Navigating through challenges.
Life has a tendency to interrupt the best laid plans. Whether it is your every day job, responsibilities at home or random events that leaves you breathless. As a poet, sifting through almost 300 poems that will become my first bundle is daunting, despite the fact that they are all superimposed on images, ready to copy and paste.
I am definitely not making excuses and certainly not postponing the process, but to let it make sense, is a different kettle of fish.
Nothing new under the sun.
"I think new writers are worried that it all has been said before. Sure it has, but not by you." - Asha Dornfest
I have been asked "What makes you so sure that your poetry will find a niche?"
Fistly, your vision. I write my poetry from myself, to myself and if it has the ability to change one person's life, help them find their purpose, dreams and voice, I will be content.
Secondly, forget anyone's opinion but your own. If you write with the express need for affirmation, I would say, write some more. Not everyone will find your work beautiful. Not everyone will appreciate the effort you put into it, and not everyone will understand it.
And it's ok!
Nobody sees life from your perspective, because there is only one of you, in the now. You are unique and your experiences differ from everyone else.
Look at me. Preaching to myself...
Do I feel that now is the right time? Yes and no.
The narrow and crooked path
Having a full-time job definitely has an influence on the timing of publishing. It is walking a fine line of "Do I inform my employer of my passion?" "What if..." etcetera, especially if you are the first person people see when they walk into reception.
To the people who have followed me on both my Instagram pages, you know the diversity of my writing, and I might face backlash. I respect my employers infinitely,
It will however, limit me to the type of poems I can select. And I am prepared to make "the rest" wait until I am ready to publish the second bundle.
I have set myself a deadline, and come hell or high water, I will see this through.
I believe this.
The gift to translate pain into words...
The ink will bleed your truth.
