I've submitted a different batch of poems each day this week, already exceeding my goal of at least two submissions per month. But I'm not stopping. Something is telling me, "Don't waste a day you can use; you may not get one later," and I'm listening.
There's something about having a poem rejected: Very rarely do I send it out again without a second thought. Instead, I try to hone the imagery and the diction to make the poem as immediate and clear as I can.
Revising always brings to mind the evil Donovan's words to Indiana Jones in THE LAST CRUSADE: "It's time to ask yourself what you believe." Do I believe in a poem or story's original intent strongly enough to have at it with my editin' axe?
The answer isn't always yes, but that answer can change with time. I just have to be there when it does.
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