Sunday, February 16, 2014
so much red.
Writing. Revisiting poems both recent and years old--the latter being pretty terrible. I'm slowly weeding out the cliches, and learning all over again how to simplify my message. I keep walking away and coming back to it, probably taking breaks and thinking more than getting words on a page, but I'm determined to be kind to myself. It's been almost 8 years since I've adhered to any sort of creative schedule, and the going is mighty slow, for now.
Which reminds me, I need to remember how to write a stellar query letter. Another bag of dusty bones to drag out and unpack. It's all very exciting though, if only a little tedious. Writing again feels right and familiar, and feels like going home.