After taking a week or so to allow myself a break from writing and reading, I decided that this week would be a return to what I’m hoping will be a summer of dedicated creativity. I finished two books of poetry yesterday and today worked on one of my chapbooks a bit before sending it out to some smaller chapbook submissions.

I am never going to feel as though I am ready to have a collection published, nor will I ever feel as though the collection itself is ready. All I can do, then, is send out individual poems and chapbook manuscripts and see how they’re received. Rejections are fabulous teachers for when a poem or a collection isn’t quite ready for wider publication. (Rejections don’t necessarily mean the material needs more work, but that can be one of the reasons they’re not being accepted, especially if they’ve been rejected dozens of times.)

And even if the chapbook gets rejected by every place I’ve sent it to, just the process of sending it out will be motivating.

As for what I’m doing with my thesis, well, I’ve been working on expanding it. I have many other poems that could fit inside of it, but one thing I’m weighing out is the structure of the book. Do I want it to be cut into sections? How would I separate it? How am I going to organize it? A lot of these questions won’t need to be considered for a while, but they are in my mind. I’m excited to spend the summer reading as much poetry as I can to try and find inspiration for what I hope to have finished by the end of the year. It’s also possible that I might need to give myself some structured revision time and time away from the manuscript entirely.

I guess another step in this process is listening to what the work is asking for, as well as listening to what I need to be the best receiver of my own work.

This month is Camp NaNoWriMo and I gave myself a lofty goal that I know I am not going to reach. But that’s okay. I’m still getting writing done, especially over the weekend and into this week. It’ll take time to settle into my after-MFA writing practice, but I’m excited to watch that unfold. Mostly, I’m just excited to see where this new chapter takes me. So much has happened over the last two years, it’s hard to know what to think and what to feel about it all.

Okay, I actually know what I feel, and it’s a lot of mixed emotions. Lots of complicated contradictions. Part of me wants to word vomit about it all, and it would make for truly interesting content because some really toxic shit went down, but I think I need some time to process it first. Plus, I had such an amazing time at graduation and afterward at the karaoke we all went to, that I’m choosing to revel in the positive experiences. Moreover, thinking about certain people and what they put me through is draining. I’m in therapy to heal from the toxic shit that went down, as well as to heal from my marriage and my miscarriages, and I’m doing that so that I can actually write about/talk about what happened without inflicting more damage onto myself.

I was told on the night of graduation that I “handled it all beautifully,” and I think I’m going to hold that close and let it soothe. I will write about what happened, just not yet. I don’t want resentment to fuel what I write. I am and likely will be angry about this for a long time, but there is a difference between letting anger inform what I write and letting anger control what I write. The former allows for nuance and the acknowledgement of humanity, both mine and theirs. The latter is simply vindictive.

How we tell the truth makes a huge difference.

Graduation was beautiful. I read some of the poems I wrote for my thesis and was told by several people who attended that they were powerful, moving, breathtaking, and that they would be truly healing for a lot of people. I’m not comfortable receiving praise for work I write that’s about my miscarriages. It feels awkward. But I want my poems to be a source of solidarity, power, and healing for others who have experienced pregnancy loss. So to hear that others think they will/already are, means more than I can ever express.

Writing is supposed to connect. Even when we write about ourselves, those pieces must still move outward to include the reader/audience. I hope, as I move away from the MFA program that (literally) allowed me to reshape, reform, and rebirth myself, I’m able to create work that begins with me and expands out from me.

It’s time to get to work.