The Bearable Heaviness of Being Published
I already had another story ready to share today, but this is the one that’s coming out instead.
It was a prose poem, which makes sense because usually what I write is more on the literary side. I realize that sometimes what I need most as a writer is to disengage and state my thoughts plainly, like in a journal entry, depressurizing the writing process.
The poem that I wanted to repost today was agonizing, which I didn’t realize until it was too late. When it was out. Published.
I felt it more keenly when I saw it in print, the weight of it. It covers various themes wrapped up in a childhood home: How I both loved and hated elements of growing up there, how much I miss Georgia and hate not seeing the house one last time, perhaps a tacit explanation of why that might be. Plus, you have some thoughts on young love, law enforcement, religion, drunkenness, medicine and other, you know, “homey” things. I’ll share it soon, once I’ve processed it.
In my head, it was unassuming: some mildly traumatized diatribes from an ordinary person with regular sadness. On the publication market: difficult to place before significant formatting edits as it originally had line breaks that weren’t working. On paper: the dream realized brought the emotions back until they became unbearable. I found myself weepy today…
