A few months ago I wasn’t doing much writing, so decided that I needed to be a Real Writer™ and start submitting. I am floored because two of my poems have been accepted by two different publications and it’s seriously wild to think that other people read something I wrote and thought it was good enough to accept for publishing (and pay me for it!)
The December issue (vol. 48) of Birdy Magazine is out and one of my poems is in it and I’m all aflutter. Birdy is a local Denver magazine and it’s really very cool, chock full of art, and devoid of the kind of garish advertising you see in more “commercial” magazines. It’s also free. The quality of the printing makes each issue pretty and collectible, and the artists featured on each cover do such a great job. I couldn’t be happier to be featured, and I want to show everyone this issue.
However, it is deeply, deeply uncomfortable publicizing my poetry. I’ve never had an issue sharing stories, blogs, articles, you name it. Poetry, on the other hand, is like my deep dark secret activity. I’ve only really ever written it for myself, and I almost never show it to anyone. With the exception of a couple poems I submitted to a writing contest once and in workshops, I just don’t share.
I brought a few copies of the magazine to work, and after the fifth person tried to open the mag and read my poem right in front of me I started awkwardly insisting they go away first. As much as I love attention it seems really self aggrandizing to blather on, and I’m not falsely humble. I’m happy to brag, it’s just such a quagmire of emotions and awkwardness to share something personal. I should probably get used to it.