the rix mix

I'm disappointed. I thought I had an essay included in an important anthology, & I got bumped from it in the final stages when it all gets squeezed together. I can accept the editorial decision without anger, those things happen, I've been on both sides of that desk. I know where I stand in relation to many of the other writers in the book, I felt honored to be considered for inclusion, especially since I'd forgotten about the essay, wrote & published it in a 'zine about 20 years ago from an even older journal entry. It's an amusing piece, I wouldn't have given permission if I thought it misrepresented me. I don't have high standards, but I do have a few, & one is that I would never let an old crappy thing get reprinted in hardcover. At least I escaped the embarrassment of finding out at the release party. Fortunately, I hadn't bragged about the book to anyone. I must have a copy of the omitted piece around here somewhere, I'll dig it out & blog it, a fantasy on B movies. But as sometimes happens when my prose weaves a certain way, I sensed a poem in the fabric, which I shaped into this economical faux sonnet for Karen Black, from the 1980s. Although the essay slipped away into storage boxes, I kept the poem & liked it enough to stash it in the bag of words anyone can open.

Labels: about writing