Rolling, Rolling, Rolling
Or, Fuck you, Evan
You're not going to believe this. I
don't believe it. This afternoon I received an acceptance from NFG for my poem "She Tried to Teach Me Poetry," making this the third acceptance I have received in a row -- the third in just over a week. (I don't believe it so much that I keep writing "rejection" instead of "acceptance" and have to keep backspacing and changing it.)
This poem is ... well, not really a poem. I just call it that. It's a modified freewrite, one from back in my Creative Writing days. The rought draft was actually freewritten during Creative Writing lecture, making the "she" of the title somewhat obvious. This is also one of my "Fuck you, Evan" pieces -- true classics, including "Waterside Old Age Home, Room 245" and "Drowned Men Can't Have Kids." (Evan was my workshop "leader," for those of you who are confused.) Seeing as all three pieces have now been accepted and/or published, I think that "Fuck you, Evan" was a very good attitude to take. Even if Evan didn't agree.