Some beautiful words about solitude and self-acceptance.

Long seeking it through others,

I was far from reaching it.

Now I go by myself;

I meet it everywhere.

It is just I myself,

And I am not itself.

Understanding this way,

I can be as I am.


Lucy the Monster on the way to her lesson with Master Tungshan.

Collecting Rejections

I’m collecting rejections. I’m collecting so many rejections I even added a new category, just for rejection. I was working on a post that would say something witty, deftly-observed and ultimately upbeat about rejections, but you know what? It was pretty fucking boring. So I thought I’d just share with you, no criticism implied or intended, a list of the publications I have collected rejections from.*

The Aurelian

White Pelican Review

Poetry (well, duh)

Schuylkill Valley Journal of the Arts



Hunger Mountain

The Comstock Review

The Florida Review

Mid-American Review

Natural Bridge

Lorraine and James

Alaska Quarterly Review



Gettysburg Review

The Pedestal



Front Porch

Painted Bride Quarterly

Arroyo Literary Review


Not bad, huh? I’m kind of proud of myself.

Now here’s a picture of some pretty paperweights:

Paperweights are generally more attractive than papers, don’t you think?

* Yes I know you’re not supposed to end a sentence with a preposition. But if you read this blog that’s just the kind of imperfection you’ll have to live with. I mean, that’s where it’s at. You know where I’m coming from?