"Here's what he said: 'The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.'"
For some reason, this quote has been stuck in my head all day long. I am not humble about certain things in my life. Anybody who knows me well will back me up on this. I'm not humble about poetry. If I think a poem or poet is crap, I have no problem voicing this opinion. I have similar feelings about literature and books and movies and music. Also, I like attention. If I write a good poem, I want people to tell me how good it is. Actually, if I write a bad poem, I want people to tell me how good it is. I like being validated. Everybody does.
A year-and-a-half ago, I entered a poetry chapbook competition. Now, I try not to get my hopes too high when I do stuff like this. I know there are a lot of good poets out there, and I also know that there's a large degree of subjectivity in the selection of the winners. It all depends on who's judging. Well, needless to say, I didn't win the competition. About four months after the winner was announced, I received a copy of his chapbook. I will try to say this as politely as possible. Ummm, let's see. It sucked.
I've spent a good deal of time licking my wounded pride since then. Now I'm about to enter another chapbook competition. I've done my research. I looked up the names of previous winners and read some of their poems. I have a good idea about the poetic taste of the sponsor of the contest. I'm prepared.
Getting published is my cause right now. If I ever hope to get a full-time position at the university, I need to publish. A lot. I would be able to decrease the number of jobs I currently have, and my kids would be able to go to college for free. All those things are causes for me. But I have to prove myself as a poet/writer.
I know my cause isn't exactly selfless. In fact, it's pretty selfish. But human beings are basically selfish creatures, unless you're talking about Nobel Peace Prize winners, conservationists, most pastors and priests and nuns, and, of course, saints. I tell myself that the reason I want to win a poetry contest is for my family. They will have a better life if I win a chapbook contest. Not only will I get a publication, but I'll get $1000 as well. That's a lot of groceries and dance lessons. I will be humbly blessed. Of course, I'm lying.
Saint Marty wants to win a chapbook contest simply because he wants to be a winner. And he wants to make other people feel inferior.
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| This would get me a job at the university |
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