So Sharon writes me with her black bic (See The Victims - Sharon Olds), "So glad you read my poem, call me sometime."
So D.B. picks himself up off the ground and gets on the blower at once.
"Is that you Sharon?"
"Is that you D.B.?"
"I got your letter."
"I got your call."
"Thing is, Shar, do you mind if I call you Shar?"
"Well the thing is Shar I've been wondering."
"You are, at this point, a prominent and well-published poet. Was there, however, a time when you were dealing with rejections and the frustration of being obscure? If so, what was that time like for you? And, what are your frustrations now, if any, when it comes to the matter of publishing poetry and reaching readers?"
"D.B. you sound like you are reading this off a page, and off a poorly lit one for that matter. But let me give you my answer: Knowing one has found a reader is a wonderful feeling, a gift of energy. So much of it is dumb luck. And one is always, I think, daily, aware of the aspects of one’s work regarded by various others as flaws--and one may well agree they’re flaws! But each of us is so limited, so specific, of course none of us will appeal to very many different kinds of readers. It’s an astonishing good fortune to find a reader, don’t you think? It feels like a miracle."
D.B. could only concur - even one would do.
"One last thing Shar, Can you offer any suggestions to aspiring writers?"
"You're still reading that page D.B."
"Come on Shar, spill your secrets."
"Take your vitamins!"
Alter Egos - I Am Done Watching This
When clicking on an Alter Egos in the sidebar, please look above this title for video content.