I think it's safe to say that I haven't had much more than four hours of sleep every night I've been here. I don't know if it's the bed, being away from home, the storms, or the poetry that won't let me sleep, but I wake constantly, wake early, and it's starting to take a toll on me. Several people told me I was looking rough today, which made me laugh and try a little harder to stay awake. Which is difficult. Like right now, I'm slumped in my desk chair with my head dropped onto the back, and it's all I can do to keep my eyes open to make this post. But I have to.
As I've already told pretty much everyone I know, I found out yesterday that my first real publication will happen next spring. Two of my poems are going to be published in the Zone 3 literary magazine. I knew when I wrote My Uncle Sings La Cucaracha that it was my best bet to get out there first, but I was pleasantly surprised when Echoes of Bovary tagged along! Wow. It's sort of just hitting me that those names are officially mine, that they're going to printed with my name and my material, and it's the first time I've ever really felt like a legitimate poet. I mean, I considered myself a poet before, but it's a whole new level knowing that your work will be in a book that people can buy and read. Completely amplified by the fact that one of my favorite poets had a poem in this publication before, and it's like, wow, am I really experiencing this? Am I really going to be in a book that has previously housed the likes of him?
I have been incredibly fortunate in the short expanse of half a year. Murray turned out to be a really great step for me. If not for going there, I never would have met Blas, who has helped me immensely in my writing. I can't explain or believe how much my writing has improved since having him as my mentor. Having read his poems, I also can't believe that he took interest in me, because he's so great. But I am extremely, extremely thankful and not taking it for granted. It was all I could do not to jump up and down like a fool last night when he told me wanted to publish my work, and not just one, but two. Now, if only Spring would hurry up and get here! But I can't complain. It's worth waiting for. I just wish I could describe how in awe I am over the fact that I have come this far. Now, when people ask me what I'm getting a masters in, I can attach the fact that I'm published, and maybe I won't get that same old pitying, prissy look from people! And I know it's not my very own book of poems, but it's still amazing, and it's still something I can pass on to my kids one day and be like, look this is what I did. This is my name in print. At least one person liked what I did.
Anyway, I could go on and on about that all night, but for the sake of my sanity and need to attempt to sleep, I'm going to cut back to my residency here. I went to hear Mark Doty read last night, and I was incredibly impressed. I had to immediately buy his poetry after the reading, I was so in love. And it's not just his writing, but his voice. He had a great presence at the reading, was friendly, humorous, and open. He didn't seem blinded by an ego, like some people. Super nice.
Today, another mentor class, another genre seminar, and two graduate teaching presentations, then a reading, a reception, and me ducking out as soon as possible to get back here to write and sleep in a hurry. It was a good day, but I really don't remember much of it, because I think I was walking around in a stupor with my eyes barely open. Zombie-like. I guess I was too excited last night, so I had an even more difficult time trying to fall asleep. But, still, not complaining! I've also written about six poems since I've been here, including one that I would really like to have as the central focus of my thesis. Or maybe that's not the right way to put it. It certainly is the center of my subject matter, but I see it more as a poem in my future attempt at a book. Toward the end, if not the end, tying everything cleanly together. It's just in its second draft, but it has all the components of what I want. It has also given me a name for my thesis/book. Even though it's a lot of work, it's really exciting thinking about putting it together. The thesis is intimidating, but its product--my book--is thrilling. I don't want to give too much away in order to save some sort of anticipation for anyone who is, or might ever be, interested in reading a collection of my poems.
Not only that, but I'm very much done typing. All I want is sleep. Though I won't hold my breath, as I hear thunder again, and the last storm kept me very much wide awake and freaked out. I know I was wary of storms before, but ever since February, I'm immediately assuming the worst, looking over my shoulder, so to speak. In short, terrified. I was hoping this feeling would subside, but maybe it never does for people that have experienced this sort of thing. Well, either way, I have to try to sleep. I'm not sure how many more days I can go as a functioning human being without it!
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