Instead of meeting my goals, this month I have been collecting hours sitting aimlessly in my rocking chair, reading books and staring at the birds.
Last week, while sitting aimlessly, I watched a bald eagle land on the shore of my lake. Immediately, a hawk swooped down from a nearby tree, shrieking and pecking at the eagle. The eagle hopped between legs, dodging the attack when another hawk flew in, diving at the eagle with a loud cry. Knowing he faced two aggressors, the eagle leaped into the air and retreated to the other bank of the lake, where ducks wandered peacefully.
Those thirty seconds of afternoon contained such concentrated goodness. I have returned to them again and again in memory, grateful to have been a witness.
Recently, I asked my poetry professor if she had any advice on generating more poetry. She suggested I prioritize “encountering the world.” She explained that poetry doesn’t spring from nothing, but is birthed of a life lived.
Sometimes I think busyness means I am living well, but then, on a slow afternoon in a rocking chair I see an eagle attacked by hawks, and am reminded that life and productivity are not synonymous. Sometimes an aimless sit is the most livingest of things a person could do.
How’s the novel, you ask?
In January I had great plans for revising my novel. I paid $33 to print it all out at the library and spent a whole week chopping & sorting pages to get a feel for what I had. In summary: garbage. I had a great deal of garbage on my hands.
That’s not self-degrading, it’s true. I expected as much when I finished the draft. I knew how messy and undefined this project was, but the goal was to write a first draft, and that’s what I did.
What I didn’t expect was how preposterously boring my novel would be to read through. I couldn’t finish. It was SO bad.
The badness of my story ruptured my intentions, and instead of revising I spent a solid month thinking: wow, if I don’t start revising soon I’m really going to regret it. And now I’m here, regretting it.
But I put in an order for some tools I thought might help, and they should arrive this week. When they do, I’m jumping straight back into editing (you can count on it! maybe).
What about the poetry?
Poetry. Man. It’s rough out here. I am so incredibly lucky to have found a really badass group of poets to meet with every other week. Of course, I have launched my Poetry Post Cards, so I am minimally required to write a poem each month. February’s poem is a sonnet that I labored over. And, boy, am I thankful for the internet and rhyme lists. If you want February’s post card, nows the time to subscribe!
Book Recs for February
Black Woods, Blue Sky by Eowyn Ivey– A woman meets a hot, burly man in the Alaskan Wilderness only to discover he’s a bit more wild than she anticipated. Read if you like nature descriptions, wildlife, contemplative romance, and a little bit of horror.
Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton– A memoir about a woman’s teens and twenties as she searches for love, finds it, loses it, loses it for real, redefines love, and finds it again, but differently than she expected. Read if you love Bridget Jones Diary, if you want to reflect on your twenties, or if you need some lighthearted entertainment.
Cook Once, Eat All Week by Cassy Joy Garcia, NC– The perfect cookbook if you hate meal planning, making grocery lists, and eating the same food you’ve always eaten. Recipes are delicious. Also, gluten free! (We just add bread whenever we want it).
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