Simultaneity

April 10

What a grand day! I had lots of work at The Day Job, cranking away under a deadline (which we missed, actually; ah, well. So we moved the deadline to tomorrow. All's well). Then I came home and finally made a real meal-- peppers, mushrooms, fried rice. Delicious, and more than enough left for a fine lunch tomorrow. That's me being forward-thinking. I trust you're impressed.

I paid bills! I bought car insurance! I was both virtuous and 'sponsible!

After that, and some good and deepish talk with Meg on the phone, I went to the café. I wrote two poems-- a love poem, and a spec piece called "Glass Boy" which I can actually sell to a magazine that pays, probably. The poetry wasn't coming very easily yesterday, but today it was like drinking water after a long hot walk -- natural, soothing, and me thirstily finding the words.

I walked down to Bookshop and spent money (oh, but I've been so good about money lately! I'm allowed!). I got The Wellspring by Sharon Olds, because I don't own enough of her stuff-- just the poems included in some anthologies I have. I also purchased Matinee Light by Diana Hartog. I met Diana a couple of times at the mainstream writer's group I briefly attended here in town-- she's a Canadian living for the moment in Santa Cruz. She's a cool woman, but when I tried to read her one novel, I didn't like it very much. I knew she considered herself more of a poet, so I picked this old used poetry collection from the "Local Authors" shelf. It's worth the ten bucks-- good stuff. Finally I bought Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods, because I've heard such good things about Bryson, and I'm in the mood for nonfiction, and it's about the Appalachian Trail, part of which used to be basically in my backyard when I lived in Boone. So tra la, good poems and other loveliness. Still reading Wildlife and accepting the lack of a real overarching narrative. It's cool to read the section that comprised the novella "Mr. Boy" again-- I haven't read it in years, and it's awesome.

It's early yet (especially if tonight turns out like last night did, and I stay up until 3). I don't know what's ahead. I have a bit of ice cream left, and The Simpsons on television if I want passive entertainment. I have letters to write. Poems to get ready to submit. Contracts to prepare... Sigh. One of the poets I accepted a piece from contacted me today to tell me he's already sold the poem to another magazine. My guidelines don't say anything about simultaneous submissions; it's something I forgot to mention. I think I'll ask Timprov to add a line to the effect that I don't want simsubs. I really dug that poem, and wanted to publish it, so now I'm sad and bitter at simultaneous submissions, heh. I don't mind 'zines that refuse to accept simsubs, because I have so many stories (actually) and poems (theoretically) in circulation that I don't worry overmuch about being able to send each one to only a single magazine at a time. But if any of you writerly types disagree, if you really love simultaneous submissions, drop me a line and try to convince me.

Maybe I'll read some Bryson. Maybe I'll take a hot bath. Maybe I'll write more poetry.

Mmm. Good night.

Omit needless words! Omit needless words! Omit needless words!

-William Strunk, Jr., as quoted by E.B. White