Arc of the Poet
Part 1: Life Poetry
Part 2: Tour de Force
Part 3: True Love
Part 4: Spinning Out
Part 5: Wake-Up Call
Part 6: Serious Dreams
Part 7: Home Stretch
Part 8: Feedback
Part 9: Dear Departures
Part 10: Good Poetry
Part 11: Rewrites
Part 12: Resistance
Part 13: Fame and Fortune
Part 14: Ramblings
Part 15: Being
Thank you very much for your interest in this thread, and my ongoing adventures as a poet. This project revisits the experiences of the past 20 years for posterity, your entertainment and hopefully some enlightenment as well. This is part 11, and number 15 is the last entry I have outlined. In finishing the series up over the next several weeks, I have a few more stories I hope you’ll enjoy.
The following lines are from An Essay on Man published by Alexander Pope in 1734.
All Nature is but Art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good:
And, spite of pride in erring reason’s spite,
One truth is clear, whatever is, is right.
Out of necessity, the lion’s share of my summer 1994 professional effort was dedicated to fulfilling what I had clearly identified as my primary objective: “Get the check.” When my poem finally appeared in the October issue of Midwest Poetry Review, it had no real impact in my world, financially or otherwise. I fully intended to keep submitting what I considered to be my best writing to literary magazines and contests, but I had to focus my endeavors more productively to help Beth pay our rent and fund our expeditions as tourists and nature-lovers.
In those days, I was growing in capabilities and reputation as a screen and script writer, a trade media journalist, a film, TV and video production pro, and a sort of marketing and high-tech whiz kid. On July 5, I received a big break: I was hired by BBK Productions to work as the writers’ assistant on their pilot for an hour-long dramatic series for Columbia TriStar. One good thing led to the next; the series was picked-up by then-fledgling Fox network, and throughout that fall, I worked with an amazing crew as 13 episodes of “Fortune Hunter” came to life, featuring rising star Mark Frankel and a stunning list of Hollywood talents. This previously posted poem was written that August.
When “Fortune Hunter” ended, I picked up other contract work, like writing news releases related to the production and post-production industries, writing a feature story for a national trade magazine, and handling script revisions for more TV productions.
On those days not timed on others’ clocks, I worked on things like my own business and marketing plans, and pursuing options on literary properties of personal interest. On nights when Beth turned in early, I read, wrote and searched my soul, ultimately finding that my desire to see my creative writing in literary publications still burned brightly. With 1994 winding down, I mailed polished packages to The Atlanta Review, Sounds of the Street, Hellas, Literal Latte, Pebbles, Poetry Motel, Stone Shoes, Good Housekeeping, The Southern Review and The Paris Review, and a few manuscript contests I hoped to win.
The new year soon pulled me back into financial distress and the frenzy of Orlando’s freelance marketplace. Chasing the dollar, I had excellent company, and terrific good fortune in running mates. Then and now, few in Central Florida have been as successful as independent producer and director of photography Randy Baker, who took me under his wing as a collaborator and showed me what is possible with diligence, hard work, perseverance and charm. Between the freelance production activities Randy offered and the writing-related contracts mentioned above (many of which involved him integrally), I achieved some financial stability even without having a full-time job.
Reaching that new plateau, I reassessed the sum total of my professional achievements with the goal of focusing-in properly… and happily, I began to pinpoint some opportunities. This is from a strategic marketing plan I put together in February, 1995.
“Since every professional needs to maximize their internal and external communications and their existing inventory of rights, a specialist in industry marketing who can create strategic communications tools quickly is extremely valuable.”
Also: “A crucial aspect of future success is increased recognition through legitimate literary channels.”
With growing senses of my unique value propositions and my marketing imperatives, I continued pursuing what came my way while reaching for more whenever possible. Looking back, it’s plain to see that most of my extracurricular efforts missed their primary marks, as the rejection slips steadily arrived in the mail each week, constantly reminding me of my lack of merit and unimportance as a writer, from the perspectives of so many editors and literary gatekeepers.
Fortunately, I had some other heavy hitters in my corner. If you have followed along in my narrative, you’ve seen how important my brother has always been in my life, and how my own being has often taken a backseat to his, from my point of view. That may sound convoluted, but if you have read Wordsworth in Part 7 of this series, I expect you will understand my meaning.
On March 3, I received this fax transmittal from Scott.
Without a doubt, receiving this feedback gave me a giant swell of pride and confidence. Later that month, I received a letter from a dear friend of my mother named Gay Henderson. After Scott’s diving accident in 1991, Mom had gotten us all involved with a support group for spinal injured individuals and their families in Orlando. It was an eye- and mind-opening experience to say the least, meeting young men and women who had suffered spinal injuries but moved back into life so normally that it was very reassuring. Dr. John Ross-Duggan was one of the inspirational wheelchair-bound individuals we met there. Gay was John’s mother, and after meeting her through the support group, she and my mom had formed a solid friendship. Through wonderful long, typewritten letters that Mom often shared with me, Gay dazzled us with scenarios right out of the movies like “84 Charing Cross Road” and “Out of Africa.” I only wish we’d had the chance to get to know her and her husband Allyn better; sadly, Gay passed away in August, 1996.
The above fax from my brother and Gay’s letter remain among the greatest achievements I’ve earned through writing. Together, they provided some magic which, along with my experiences, has worked to transform my thinking on the subject of literary fame over time. Through the words of Scott and Gay, I saw that my writing had already connected me very deeply and profoundly with my brother, my mother, and one of the wisest and most wonderful people I had met in the world.
Also, I was already very aware of having built those connections without “publication,” and Gay’s encouragement led to a great deal more outreach on my part over the years aimed at getting “Wordsworth” into print. It did generate several warm responses from respected editors… but it has been brought to the public only through this project you’re reading, courtesy of yours truly. By publishing it here, I’ve honored Gay’s request, and that’s just one of many reasons I’m very proud to honor this poet’s arc. Through this self-chosen adventure I set out on long ago, with support from my wife and many other friends and family members, I have found my talents and my career. Along the way, I’ve also earned the respect and admiration of many great people… some of whom I know are real fans of my writing.
Cheers!
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