I am such a loser. A pathetic facsimile of a sham of a person.
I am something of a poetry freak, if you couldn't tell by now. I read a lot of it. I think I am pretty decent at writing it, too. I don't post my own work here, though, because I don't want some dumb undergraduate stealing it and passing it off as her/his own.
Anyway, today I could have had dinner with one of my favourite poets, who is an uber-famous Canadian writer - I have loved his work since I was a teenager - and had drinks with him, as well, right now, as I sit typing this nonsense. But I chickened out.
I could have talked to him about my work, but didn't. He would have been happy to talk about it, I could tell.
I did force myself to meet him, at least - to tell him I was a fan - and we chatted for 5 or 10 minutes. Great guy. Terrific storyteller.
It had nothing to do with him. I'm just colossally shy, and though it's not as bad as it used to be, it kicks in from time to time. Today I knew it would happen because of my hero-worship of this poet.
I truly hate myself over this fiasco, and .... of course .... find myself relating it to the big IF. I am a failure on all fronts. At least if I can't make a baby I can make poetry, but seriously, who wants to read what I've done? I've published bits and pieces here and there, but there's been a big drought in the last 3 years. It is so hard to get published in this country, and I don't mind rejections, but at some point it would be nice to get my work out there a little bit. I don't even mean the big guns, like the journals Prairie Fire and Vallum and CV2. I don't care about making a name for myself. I just want to write and know that I'm writing for someone out there.
This probably all sounds dumb, but for me it's so upsetting. I feel that, as a writer, I came along 20 years too late. What I write (about my culture, quite often) was hot in the '80s and early '90s. If I'd been born 20-30 years earlier, I could have gone somewhere, I know it. But now, what I'm saying has already been said a dozen times. It doesn't matter that I lived through similar things as the writers who've come before me - the general reading audience has already heard it, read it, etc. What I have to say is a moot point. (I can't be more specific without essentially giving away my identity, so I apologize for wallowing in generalities here.)
It's very discouraging. Yet this guy could have offered some valuable advice. But I ran away.
Failure to create on all fronts.
Urgh, shoot me now.
I should add that I was a bit uncomfortable during the evening in general. People in eastern Canada are different than what I'm used to, so I often feel bursts of culture shock. Our respective social niceties don't always translate well back and forth. Oh well. I'm learning.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
This will be a truly pathetic post, so feel free to skip it.
Posted by one-hit_wonder at 10:34 p.m.
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5 comments:
I think you can still write about your culture and bring something new to it, or put a twist on something. I just read an article yesterday about writing what others have written in your own way. If they wrote something boring, you can make it funny... Too bad you didn't meet with the poet.
You know I want to write a phenomenonally motivating comment right now, but for the lack of potent words, all I will say it that with all that shyness, you perhaps could have taken your hubby along (only if he was interested). Which would have meant that when you stopped, he could have filled the conversation.
Can't you e-mail converse with him?
Victoria: I used to think so, too, but it's amazing how many people have already said what I'm saying. Of course, I have my own twist on things, but still, much of it is similar to previous writing - it's alarming. Once, I wrote a short piece of nonfiction, and tacked on a rather brilliant last sentence (I thought it was good, anyway!). Then, a few months later, I came across an essay from someone (also from my culture) who had the same concluding sentence, almost verbatim. Very disheartening!
Wise: I think DH would've been even more intimidated - writers do that to him (he is not a reader). I knew I could carry the conversation - that wasn't the problem. I don't know how to explain what my problem was! I must be a mutant. lol
I could probably e-mail. His address is probably online because he's also a college instructor. Thanks - maybe I'll do that.
When I was in high school & dreaming of journalism, my mother made the acquaintance of a reporter at the local paper, who said she'd be happy to talk to me. I never did -- was way too shy. I kind of understand where you're coming from.
I'd love to read some of your poetry -- my dh is an even bigger poetry fan than I am.
loribeth: Ah, I used to want to be a journalist, too. I did start post-secondary in that area, but gave it up because I couldn't stand the idea of approaching new people every day. I did actually end up working in the media a few years later (not as a journalist, though), and was glad that I wasn't a reporter - it involves too much time on the phone! lol
I'd love to post my poetry, but do not want stupid undergrads to steal it. (I don't know how copyright works online.) That's cool that your guy likes poetry - mine does, too, only he'd never admit it! :)
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