What Really Works

I just got done reading the most recent postings on the blog for my MFA program, Tyger Burning. It's been updated to include pictures from alumni and lots of postings about what folks are doing these days. Some I don't know because they graduated from the program before my arrival in January 2005, but many I knew (know) and love. I'm so happy for their successes.

And insanely jealous.

I feel as though my creative life is stalled. I feel as though all the publications, awards, all of that--it could be mine. I know I have the potential to achieve great things in the field. But ever since graduation, it has been like pulling teeth to coerce myself to invest the time and energy into writing truly noteworthy poetry--let alone sending it to people who would note it. I've made some halfhearted attempts over the past several months, most of which have come back as rejections. I understand that this is the game--you submit, submit, submit, like throwing jelly at a wall and hoping some will stick while the rest runs off. I know that it takes more than one try. And in honesty, I know I have not given it enough tries.

That doesn't make it easier to receive those rejection letters, or to see the success of an acquaintance. I'm proud to say I know those people; proud to say I come from the same stock as them, that I was taught by the same esteemed teachers. But I worry that it didn't rub off on me in the same way. Continually, I return to the question: "if this is what I love, why is it so hard to make myself commit to it?"

And the usual answers surface: work takes a lot of time, as does the commute to and from. The miscellany of preparing to buy a new house. My need to also devote time to my physical health and well-being. My investment in my marriage. Wanting to be there for family. All of those things are legitimate distractions. But it feels like my creative life is suffering from neglect, as well as the non-paying profession that I'd like to turn into a more lucrative one. I love being at Davenport, the feeling that I have gotten my foot in the door of academia, but it would be nicer to teach more creative class, literature, all of that....

And now if you'll excuse me, I have to go bust some students on Facebook.