Gossip [&] the Devil

It’s official, I received my first legit publishing agreement last week from The Great American Poetry Show:

Excuse the deathly ill eye-bags, it's been a rough week, and focus on the CONTRACT.

See, this is a big deal. This was two years in the making for this ONE piece, a poem titled “Voyeur.” You may remember from previous posts that I’d been rejected over and over by TGAPS. In fact, I’d sent them over 40 pieces for consideration before they took this one. In fact even though they’d ACCEPTED “Voyeur” editor Larry Ziman was going to REJECT it anyway. (Read the short story here, in which Larry called me while I was in Birmingham seeing Amanda Palmer.) In fact, the other two editors STILL rejected the poem, but apparently Larry has the final say.

I tell you, it’s amazing what perseverance and, frankly, talent, can get you. After initialing in the appropriate places, writing my “short-bio” (which is always harder than it sounds) and sending proof copies of the poem off to West Hollywood, CA I can actually breathe a little bit. It’s also a prime example of the publishing world and the time lines on which it operates. Everyone always asks me “well when will you see it? why can’t you buy it now? well when will you know?” and it just isn’t that easy. From the time “Voyeur” was a “possibility” for Volume 2 of TGAPS until I received the publishing agreement in my hands over a year had passed. The publishing world isn’t quick and easy, by any means, whether you’re an amateur or a professional.

You have to sign with blue ink.

I’m glad they settled on “Voyeur” though. That poem has a special place in my heart as it’s one of my finest pieces of narrative poetry, in my opinion. “Narrative poetry,” as the name suggests, has a plot. It isn’t necessarily a graphic description of any one thing. It’s also a style that one of my biggest mentors, Ai, is impeccable at. She taught me how to be a better narrative writer and in fact, when I turned “Voyeur” in for workshop my senior year of college she moved it to the top of the stack. While the rest of the class couldn’t see the “artistic value” of a girl watching her boyfriend fuck another girl, Ai knew what I was trying to do with the poem and mood of the reader. It was a turning point in the class because suddenly people became a little more daring, a little more open to ideas. This is never a bad thing.

I might or might not have temporarily passed out.

Speaking of Ai, I’ll give you some breaking news: she was the first person to receive an official copy of my first chapbook, The Rough Chronicles of Bipolar Romance, last week. The opportunity arose and it seemed only appropriate.

Yes M. Orphans, my chapbook is finished and back from the printers, sitting in boxes and waiting for your eyes to devour them. They will be sold through Modern Orphan Designs, which I’ve closed temporarily until I re-launch sometime in the next couple of months. I will tell you this however, I’ve finished all the limited-edition “Modern Orphan” t-shirts and a few custom “compound” shirts, which have been hand sewn, burned, cut up, pinned and will buff up your science points. I have also made charms using recipes from the voodoo lady I was named after, and a few very, very limited Modern Orphan necklaces. In addition to all THAT I’ve finished a few one-of-a-kind mixed media art pieces using a few fan favorite poems as inspiration. Not many people know that I originally attended college on a full art scholarship that I gave up to pursue an English degree.

And if that wasn’t enough en route to my house as I type is a set of blending oils for a limited run of my special, secret oil scents you’ll fucking LOVE. (If you don’t remember, I posted a while ago about the line of oils I had years ago called Lascivious XIII – I blended them in my kitchen and sold them from my bedroom.) If you don’t know the word “lascivious” means ‘inclined to lustfullness” and “arousing sexual desire.” The olfactory system is often overlooked in terms of libido but trust me, if you smell good enough to eat, someone will want to eat you. I specialize in dessert scents and sugary musk.

Despite being deathly ill (two trips to urgent care in less than two weeks, a rapid weight-loss and perma-bags under my eyes) I’m trying to keep this thing going. I couldn’t do it without Ms. Marie. That needs said. She’s my right hand woman, web designer, bust builder, care taker and food maker. Love, love.

Hold tight Orphans–Lots of awesome coming your way courtesy of the owner of this goddamn-motherfucking-orphanage.

P.S. Current music: Marilyn Manson – Arma-goddamn-motherfuckin-geddon

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