i met with Amanda the other day in Bryant park here in nyc. as she now lives in california, it's been years since i've seen her. i adore her. she always asks me about my writing, and encourages me. she always encourages me as well to send it out for publication. i had two professors say... well one said, 'i hope to see you on the new york times best sellers list. and the other would pass me in the hallway and say... i'm waiting for your book. and just as sweetly, when i once tried to introduce myself to one of my new professors he looked at me in all earnest and said, 'i know you, you're a poet.' (how sweet is that?)
at first, years ago, i thought i was not ready. now i am just fearful and undisciplined truth be told. while browsing through 'a cup of comfort for writers,' i'm reading an essay on rejection slips. and i thought i would like to at least get one rejection slip. you know what that might mean? it would mean i finally did what i needed to do to tell a story, or develope an idea into essay, polished a poem well enough for submission, and sent it out. i suppose someone would say 'thanks but no thanks.' but at least i know i tried. and that makes all the difference, i think. and as they say, fail forward into success.