A mixed bipolar episode, for those who don’t know, means the afflicted is suffering from down-in-the-dumps depression along with higher-than-high aspirations at the same time. For the past few months, I’ve wanted nothing more than to jump headfirst into an active volcano and erase all that is Robin from the face of the earth. While thinking that, I also managed to write a book of poems. I still don’t know what I’ll call the collection but I’m hoping it’ll be in print by this summer or fall. I really have in mind one publisher to handle my book, Copper Canyon Press right here in Port Townsend. Their requirement is some of my poems had to have been published by other concerns. I’ve thus taken the liberty of sending out my poems for consideration in the hope that, if I get at least five or ten of them published, Copper Canyon would sign my book. We’ll see.
In other news, I’m in the middle of editing the galley of my first book, Wetland and Other Stories. It’s looking good so far. I should be done by tomorrow. I don’t have a timetable for its release yet but I’m guessing it should be out in two or three months. Yay! I’ve released books before but those were on my own college company, Sound Off Press. I wish I could find those juvenile books now. They had not only short stories but also poems and illustrations. Ah. The good ol’ creative days at Iowa State.
You know, in this day and age of self publishing, I’ve often asked myself, “Self, why do you continue to send out your short stories and poems for publication consideration from established magazines?” True. No one has to. With the proliferation of literary blogs, a writer can just as easily sit at home and display their linguistic cunning to the world without the help or backing of a literary agency. Indeed, all one has to do is post one’s site on various blog channels and the readers will come running. Or so it seems. I think, for me, I like the idea of others championing my work because it says, one, that I can write and, two, I’m worth reading. It’s kind of like a pat on the back that says “good job, well done.” I guess I’m still at that stage where I need some reassurance. Rejection does hurt but the occasional acceptance is a panacea for the pain.