Thursday, September 11, 2008

Tell Me, Mr. Poetry Magazine, Do You Still Love Me?!

I don't know what I want in a writing relationship. I feel in love with this certain tall, dark, and mysterious poetry magazine months ago, and sent it some of my favorite pieces. But I never heard back and never heard back, and eventually came to the sad conclusion that it was never meant to be, that the magazine had folded and I was to be alone forever. So today I sent an email withdrawing my poems. And then I received a response.

It was beautifully written all lowercase prose, although it was broken into stanzas like poetry. "why?" it asked me. The loveliness was almost heartbreaking. "you are talented, your poems will find a home elsewhere."

I don't want my poems to be elsewhere, I want them to be there! I tell you that generally my whimsy guides me, and my whimsy wanted this site and this site alone. My heart was stolen and I can never get it back. Even their response to my withdrawal was evanescent and lovely.

So I begged. "I thought you were nonfunctional, I went about this all wrong, please reconsider!" I had broken off my engagement and now I wanted to take it back. But the question is, will I be forgiven? I'm dying to know.

It's a rookie mistake, and I am most definitely a rookie. I'm learning new things every day, and now I know not to make assumptions and that I should query before withdrawing. I learn from my mistakes, but I would be so much happier to learn from an *almost* mistake.

I've been asked if I'll ever write about Niko and Williams. I have, in a way. I submitted an essay to Real Simple that I never expect to hear back on. I'd like to do an article sometime, because I think a Williams parent could write it differently than anybody else could. But at the same time, it's too hard. I've tried so many times, and they either come out clinical (our life isn't clinical) or weepy (our life isn't weepy). They don't turn out how I'd like them to, because it's still so raw. I don't know how to explain my son to those who don't know him. One of my friends told me to write my essay like I was writing him a letter, and it did help. It was much looser and informal, but still not quite right. But do you know what is right? This blog. I can speak about Niko on my terms, in my own way, and I feel like there isn't judgement. It's...very nice.

1 comment:

Agnes Minerva said...

Oh dear, you shouldn't be writing to Real Simple, you should send your Niko essays to Wondertime. It's the best magazine for parents of little kids ever, and I often see little notes in the magazine asking for readers' submissions.