Billy Crystal’s character tells Danny Devito’s character in “Throw Momma From the Train,” that “a writer writes, always.” It’s true. Just like a painter paints and a sitter sits. Where my quandry emerges is, not unlike a tree falling in a forest, if one is not published, are the words still more than simple emotive and physical scribbles on a page?
I saw on Craigslist a call for poets to submit their poetry about losing one’s mother. I happened to have lost two mothers, one by birth and my “real” mom by adoption. I have poetry about their deaths.
There is no pay involved and if one or more of the selections are chosen, one receives a copy of the book. I’m certain it is self-published and will come, if at all, with flimsy plastic pages and smeared print. So, why, you may ask, am I submitting my precious gifts at all? Because, my friends, a writer writes always and then they get published.
Am I cynical in believing that what shows up on my resume counts, even if it is a small self-published document like this? Is it important for me to know that perhaps thirty people will own a book with my poetry in it, even if most of those people are the publisher’s family members?
I think it is important. It is valuable at a few levels. One, it states that one believes in his or her work enough to submit it to another person, a stranger, for consideration. Two, if it is published, it is a legitimate entry on one’s work history. Three, someone is there to hear the tree fall in the forest. Someone, outside of the few intimates around one can share in this artistic rendering. With all that going on, one should be very pleased.
Art is about choice making. Every word, brush stroke or note is a message from the author/artist/ composer about who he or she is and what is in their heart. Sharing those choices adds to the pool of veracity and beauty available for the greater consumption.
Yes, it is about self-discipline. Yes, it is about the work. Ultimately, however, it is about the willingness to open ourselves up to others joining the party in our spirits. It is about joining together, artist and patron, to share a common experience.
My door is opening and this is my journey over the treshhold. It is exciting and unnerving and about time.
So, write writers! Paint painters! Compose composers! Always! Just remember to celebrate your art by sending it out to just one stranger if you get the chance. But, finally, it’s your choice.