Monday, September 7, 2009
So, no real drafts accomplished this weekend. I'm struggling to be okay with that. I know that for me, I need a clear schedule of writing time; however, with the long weekend and a visit to my in-laws (which was a good time, btw), my schedule got tilted a bit. I've done lots of piddling work for my writing world: blogging, reading blogs, finishing up my library at goodreads, etc, but that's not the real work. On a happy note, the outlook for the rest of the week and next weekend looks good for quiet time, so I'm looking forward to what comes next.
Last week I read this on Victoria Chang's blog:
If a poet publishes a book every 3 years, how many poetry books are out there and who will buy these books, especially if even we aren't buying each other's books?
It's a really interesting post about why poets don't want to talk about sales numbers. Prior to this statement, I was feeling pretty good about myself because I had learned last month that Anhinga had effectively sold out of my first 500 books. They had 7 left in the warehouse. My first print run is 1,200, and I never imagined I'd get close to that. (Anhinga now wisely prints in batches, so that they don't have to store large quantities of books.) That's cool with me. I was proud of my number.
Then, I read that "3 years" statement above. I found out that Blood Almanac had won the Anhinga Prize in October of 2005, and the book appeared in summer 2006. Here it is 3+ years later no matter how you count it, and I'm slugging through the submission/rejection process of book 2. Apparently, I'm slower than average!
I was glad to read the post, but these are exactly the kind of things that I have to consciously strip from my mind when I'm trying to work. Once this is posted, I shall try to stave off any more thoughts on the subject.
Happy Labor Day...may yours be laborless.