God, it can feel awful. It can feel wrong – I’m still not 100% convinced it’s not – putting yourself out there, as a (I hesitate to call myself this) poet.
I have worked very hard for a long period of time on my book. And I am reconciled to doing absolutely as much as I can to promote and shout about it and share it with anyone who might be interested.
This afternoon I finished a kind of email newsletter that I had read was a good idea. Online gurus talk about how it is fundamental to be in conversation with those who might support one as a writer. It is all about community. And I now get it. Connect and communicate. Share.
The newsletter has a poem from my book, a bit of new about readings, etc and publications I am included in. It has a bit of the feel of a family Christmas cheesy round robin . As soon as I sent the send button, I had one of those tight-skinned “Oh God, what have I done now?” type feelings. Which, on reflection, is kind of exciting. Perhaps this is against type. But what real harm can it do?
If one is making art, it is inevitable that one must also be promoting one’s work. Even the “anti” promotion of those who will not advertise themselves, is a form of exactly that.
It’s not like I’ve killed anyone, but still the bottom of my stomach feels like it’s out. But I remember this: my best learning experiences have been painful and at the time felt like dire.