One of the most stressful phases of submitting requested material to agents or unsolicited short stories to lit mags is the waiting. Waiting to hear back can drive a writer crazy. Or, to new levels of creativity. In some cases this waiting manifests in the insatiable urge to check email every few minutes. *refresh, refresh, refresh*
Sometimes the checking is so often that the email program cries.
Now this obsessive checking comes and goes, some days are easier than others. I am now in the habit of checking the spam folder after my manuscript request got lost in that quagmire of a folder. With no news in my inbox, and no surprises in the spam folder my boredom seeks an outlet. Now, here it is.
This poem is made up almost entirely of the subject lines in my spam folder. The words in italic are my own. The rest is….
What is your purpose in life?
Maybe you want to..
Become king of the bed,
see your love tool grow, or find out
what secrets do your love cards hold?
The time is now, the time to
embrace your personal power,
look into the future, and find
peace in the middle of war.
Still, the drama continues…
countdown to 2012.
We have anxiety medication, steel casinos,
sleep and hope for all.
See, it all makes sense.
The good you do comes back to you, and
the new day is here.
Just make sure – you don’t get swine flu.
I am one in a million
I’m glad I found this