Work Ethic

We’ve all been back to work this week in our house, after the wonderful relaxation of the holidays—all kinds of work, in various places. My daughter’s at work now; my son has returned on the train from the city, where he worked till the end of the week. I’ve done editing work, writing work, and theatre work, plus household chores, and my husband did some painting and coaching. There will be more hanging out and chatting, game playing and puzzle doing, and plenty more eating, but for now I have been counting up my rejections for the ongoing 100 Rejections project.

I failed.  Again!  To get 100 rejections.  Evidently I failed even to send out 100 packets.  I sent out 94.  I got 51 rejections this year, which is pretty darn good.  Fifty-four percent failure rate!  I got 26 acceptances.  I think that’s about 28% success rate.  Plus 20 packets pending. It doesn’t all add up, thanks to 1) math challenge and 2) weird situations.

Compared to the last full-year tally, from September 1, 2011 to September 1, 2012, I am down on packets out—got 120 out in that accounting—and pretty similar in the Acceptance/Rejection ratio.  I had 64 rejections, 34 acceptances, and 25 packets pending the last time I did this.  And I think that’s enough for me.

It takes a lot of work, patience, and relentless faith to get one’s work out there in the world.  Sigh….  But it’s also fun, and feels good when someone likes your work, benefits from it, and lets you know.  Here’s a sweet bit of news.  My chapbook Nocturnes turned up on this list: 2012: Best Chapbooks of the Year. Many thanks to The Scrapper Poet, Karen J. Weyant.

I will keep writing and sending work out, but I may not do any more counting and reporting here. Forgive me, my brain hurts. And my fingers are glued together, from poetry collages as Christmas gifts, so it’s hard to count.

Thanks to Arts in a Changing World (their Facebook page) for the Artwork is Work poster!

Merry Christmas Eve!

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good eve!

Lump of Coal

I was such a slattern yesterday that I spent almost the entire day wearing an apron covered with flour. This did, at least, result in delicious chocolate oat bars made with organic oat flour and some cinnamon-sugared roasted soy nuts and chocolate-covered roasted soy nuts. I think I got the roasting right on the latter. Is it possible for soy nuts to take root and grow in the belly if not completely roasted? Let me know!

I guess I also did laundry, taking off the apron for that. Or maybe that was Friday, on which I also wore an apron. The days of the week are getting scrambled now, just like the eggs.

When I was out shopping, I saw some grinchiness--impatient driving, scowly face from a woman who thought my dad bumped her gigantic white SUV with his car door. He's 80, it's icy, the lot spaces were not designed for her gigantic car, etc. He did not dent or mark her car, but the scowl did not leave her face. Sigh...

Also, a lot of sweetness and friendliness out there, thank goodness.

But I have been a bad girl at Goodreads. While it's a great place to keep track of what you read, I don't keep good enough track. Also, I joined a lovely poetry reading group, and, while I am reading my usual amount of poetry, I am also not keeping up with the reviews there. I deserve a lump of coal.

Bad Girl at Goodreads was the alternative title for this entry. I thought better of it.

All Kinds of Light

It's the shortest day, longest night of the year, the winter solstice. If you missed my solstice greeting at Escape Into Life, here you go.

Here, I'm wishing you all kinds of light, whatever kind you need.

Silent Night

Silent Night

And now it’s raining.
It’s raining now.
Elsewhere, they’ve come home
from the funerals.
In this house, candles, burning sweetly.
Balsam fir, brown sugar and fig.
All over the country, cowards
insult us, not signing their names.
All over the county, people weep
for one another, for the children
and the grownups.  Even now,
some of us are signing our names
to letters and petitions, to pleas.
Even now, some of us are cleaning
or loading our guns.
What will we do next?
Here, it is raining.
Somewhere, it is snowing.

--Kathleen Kirk (December 20, 2012)