First and Foremost

In her blog post, "Confession Tuesday - the Yin and the Yang," Kelli Agodon discusses the struggles of writers, that our lives aren't always hunky-dory, that we spend a lot of time in self doubt, even when the writing is going well.

Most recently, I have spent time in the "where do I fit in?" chair after receiving a rejection claiming that the work I submitted was experimental, and then another saying that the editors liked my voice, but it wasn't what they were looking for. From submitting my first manuscript to contests and presses, to submitting poems to journals and contests, I have spent a lot of time lately wondering which editor will like my work and where I will fit in.

Is this important? After feeling this way for weeks, I came upon an interview with Nikky Finney, a poet whose advice I trust (she was the driving force behind my chapbook), in which she says:

"In that moment I knew what kind of writer I wanted to be in the world. Yes, I wanted to write about beautiful things, but I also wanted to hand something over to the reader that was more than beautiful words, something that might have the power and presence to make them stronger, better and wiser. I did not want to be the writer who was simply waiting for applause. I wanted to be smack dab in the middle—doing something foundational, something that might be helpful to another human being."

Isn't this why I've written about my experience as a mother, to shine a bit of light on someone who is going through the same experience? I wanted mothers to feel less alone, less trapped in the trade name of "mother," less prey to the chaos. I wanted to give voice to the complexity of that life and not sugarcoat it, not make it a relic. I wanted those things first and foremost, and somehow, my poems found a home. So I have to keep pushing. I have to keep writing what is true for me and reach out to those who feel as uncertain as I do.