January 18: Jane, Allie's Baseball Mitt, Poetry

...And she never really closed it all the way, her mouth.  It was always just a little bit open, especially when she got in her golf stance, or when she was reading a book.  She was always reading, and she read very good books.  She read a lot of poetry and all.  She was the only one, outside my family, that I ever showed Allie's baseball mitt to, with all the poems written on it.  She's never met Allie or anything, because that was her first summer in Maine--before that, she went to Cape Cod--but I told her quite a lot about him.  She was interested in that kind of stuff.

Jane and Holden are interested in poetry.  In fact, Holden seems to equate poetry with being true and pure of heart.  Allie loved poetry.  Jane loves poetry.  Holden loves poetry.  And Jane.  And Allie.   

Yes, I am typing this post at almost nine o'clock at night.  I started out this morning being really productive.  I put together the materials for a church project; however, it took me over two-and-a-half hours to get it done.  After that, I really didn't get a whole lot more accomplished.  I bought a new watch, cleaned my house, and got my broken tooth fixed.  I didn't blog this morning.  I didn't get any more of 11/22/63 read.  I didn't get a poem written today, which was my biggest goal.  Perhaps I set my sights a little too high.

I really need to start working more on my poetry.  If I ever want to be hired full-time at the university, it's all about publication.  Most people have heard the saying "publish or perish."  In fact, when it comes to higher education, it's almost a cliche.  It's an accurate cliche, however.  Writers who want to be professors need to publish books.  I have one published book right now and another manuscript finished.  That's not enough.

So, what am I saying?  I'm saying I can't afford too many days that aren't productive.  I should have submitted poems to some literary journals today.  I should have researched potential publishers.  I should have written a new poem.  All those things would help my career at the university.

Yes, poetry could help me get a job.  Not too many people can say that.  Perhaps Holden would think of me as a phony or sell-out.  I can live with that.  By selling out, I can support my family doing something that I love.  The kind of job that doesn't even feel like a job.  An Oprah Winfrey kind of job.

Now if Saint Marty could land a book on Oprah's Book Club.

I do look good in berets...