Spent today poetry booking and I can’t even TELL YOU how joyous it will be to complete. For reasons that may not be as straight forward as one might expect…

For the hardcore cult members keeping up, we’ve tediously been through ‘blah blah publishers make my guts twist’ ‘blah people should write for themselves first… blah…’

Put shortly, putting out a book of poetry is serving up a thrashing of beatings that I never really saw coming.

First and foremost I don’t really expect anyone’s going to buy it. So right there I think I’m lacking a large element of gratification when one puts out a publication. Yes yes it’s not all about financial gain, unless you’re broke… like me…

Besides, to me the words have already served their purpose the minute they refreshingly spilt… printing them out and demanding dollars for them simply seems odd…

HOWEVER I adore the idea of having a collection of work that spans twelve months even (July 2009 – July 2010) to lock away in a binding so that I feel like I can have a fresh start.

Prior to actually doing this, I hadn’t experienced that kind of satisfaction. Sure I’ve finished books, scripts, and short stories… but they don’t define me like my poetry. I suppose that’s why I’ve kept it private in the past, minus the handful of incidents where my handwritten words have wound up in the possession of from whom they spawned.

It’s actually kind of an uncomfortable feeling. I paced a lot today… I cried… I waved my right first in the air and flipped off my computer monitor sporadically… Not in the turning off way, the middle finger way…

The book is going to cost $11.50 which puts a big fat $1 in my pocket should one ever sell. I actually had to cut out some stuff to get it down to cheapest cost possible without turning it skeletal.

It will be available very shortly…

… and then we can play video blog.