My misery yesterday did know some bounds. Attended a seminar on “Marketing Your Book on a Small Budget.” Drank an unusual frozen-coffee drink. Drove to a café, and while waiting for a client ate a pecan roll. Handed over her manuscript. It’s a cowboy romance novel, a good one. She gave me a check. At home, friend had left message, couldn’t visit or reschedule. Worked some, did laundry, but felt empty. Didn’t feel like eating except a marshmallow microwaved between graham crackers. The loneliness of the long-distance writer.
Then I get the mail. Oh glorious Saturday mail! To think that the Post Office wants to end Saturday mail! And what’s in it? A thin envelope from a strange place: Metro transit company. What did I do, lose my bus pass? Open it to find one of my poems (I sent three) won one of 15 spots in the Poetry in Motion competition. It’ll be designed into a poster that’ll hang in Metro transit cars and buses for a year.
This shocked me. A pleasure so unfamiliar it didn’t feel like pleasure at first. Good news, so specific and pointed – for me? I reeled. Felt tipsy. Felt bolts of lightning stutter in my brain. Oh so weird, so different! Had forgotten all about it.
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