Today has been too exciting. A student is upset with me, really, really upset with me because I called him a goat. This was a joke, there was a clear context, it’s a biblical thing and I’d much rather be a goat than a sheep, thank you very much. He’s said he will go to the dean, but I hope it doesn’t come to that.
Last week, more trouble. A student complained to my department head because I complimented her. Yes.
But today—my story, “Always,” published in Atticus Review, was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. And I have an essay, a gorgeous essay, up at The Rumpus. My Eyes Are Watching God. An artist did illustrations for it and I am amazed. Now I want everything I do to be illustrated.
Still haven’t gotten my books yet. Surely they will come soon. I’ve yet to get any serious reviews on Amazon.
I’ve joined the Good Reads author program and I think that will be very helpful, getting the word out. But I have to be realistic—this is a book of poems, a first book. Poetry doesn’t sell. But selling isn’t the point. The point is having the book, the precious thing, the sorrow of it, the joy, the I-made-this, this dream of a thing. Love.
God is moving closer. We are moving closer. The sun may burn us all.