While it’s nice (pronounced ‘Fantastic!!!’) when a publisher decides your story is good enough to publish, it’s rather unsettling – if you’re used to doing absolutely everything yourself from editing to cover creation – to hand the reins over to someone else and wait in the dark for weeks, even months, wondering what the hell is going on, if indeed anything, and whether you’re really going to get published after all. It’s a little like sitting beside a freshly laid egg and waiting with increasing impatience for the chick to emerge, and wondering whether there’s really a chick in there at all or only a potential omelette. I mean, at what point do you tap on the shell and say, ‘Hello? Is there anybody in there?’
It has been a busy month work-wise. I have been doing some writing, which may go somewhere, but the most interesting thing this month has been a Google+ community for Meta-Haiku, which are mostly 5-7-5 senryu focussed on works of art, for example:
a truth acknowledged
naked Darcy is admired
universally
But art includes poems, and thus includes haiku and even meta-haiku, so it’s possible to write meta-haiku which talk about themselves – rather like a lot of people!
this artless wordcraft
is synthetic illusion
not meta-haiku
It suits my sense of humour to a T. On the subject of drinks, time for some blood and steam:
Posts
- blood on your lips – sacred pleasure, Round-up of September’s haiku and meta-haiku.
- Shameful Poetry, On the furtive act of scribbling verse.
- Dressed in tender flesh, An academic exercise that turned very steamy.
- Blood and Weetabix, What if you wake up one morning and you aren’t a vampire?
Francis James Franklin 