Complicated questions

I spent last night reorganizing my poems. I had downloaded my diary shortly before the hacker attacks but I still lost some stuff. Thankfully I didn’t lose as much as I thought, but still. I can’t even remember what the stuff was that I did lose. But I started reposting a lot of the stuff that was missing.

My mom saw me on the couch, covered with papers and my laptop propped up as I entered and checked what I was doing. I have a rather large book of poems I have written since the end of my senior year of high school. Someone had suggested to me I should publish them, but I just brushed them off. Rereading some of my old stuff, I thought it might actually be possible. I want someone objective and someone I trust to read some of my stuff and let me know if its any good. My mom suggested an English teacher from my high school. Probably any English teacher could help me out, but I really trust and respect this one lady, Mrs. Mc. So I’m starting to reorganize and assemble the poems, putting them into a folder for her to read. Not everything is worth sending, like the four page rants directed towards Manny. But some of the other stuff might be ok. I need someone objective because there is some suicidal stuff in there and there is some angry stuff in there. Some stuff, if you know me, you’ll even know who I’m talking about. She’s enough removed from my life that I trust she’ll be fair.

Course, I’m terrified she’ll write back and say they are good, but I’ll never get published. It was never my intention to be a writer, so if this doesn’t happen, I won’t be heartbroken. But it would be kinda cool! Imagine going into Barnes and Noble or Borders and seeing your book sitting on the shelf. Or going online and finding your name listed on Amazon.com. It would be kinda cool. The other step in this huge process is copywriting my stuff. My dad (the ever-wonderful lawyer) will be able to tell me what to do about that. Then the final step is sending stuff to publishers. I’ve already kinda looked into what I need to do for publishers. Pretty much, fill out a form and send them my poems. I don’t nessecarily want the poems back, but I don’t want the publishing company printing it as their own.

Ahh, I’m getting ahead of myself. I need to finish compiling the folder for Mrs. Mc. Maybe I’ll ask her to let the other English teachers read them too. The more feedback the better, right? I don’t expect it all to be positive, but it won’t all be negative, will it? I’d cry. I’d seriously cry.

So my long-windedness will end here. Dreams of being a published author, even if its only 100 copies of the book, are dancing in my head. Am I crazy for thinking this might work? Am I psycho for thinking someone else wants to read my stuff? Am I stupid for even trying?

Easy to be taken with everything you’re saying
Make us perfect and say it all again
But if every single second’s killing
Tell me I’m dreaming
I’ll sleep it all away

Tear out this love
Tear up the root
Tear out this love
Tear me from you

You know you can tell me anything you want to
Tell me something that I’d never know
Could be cautious as the words roll over your tongue
I’m stung with sick discovery

Tear me from these complicated questions
Taking all the empty spaces inside me
But complicated answers never did you any justice anyway
Complicated as we are we’re going have to burn it all away

Complicated answers take up all the empty spaces inside me
But complicated answers never did you any justice anyway
Complicated as we are we’re going to tear out this love

Complicated Questions ~ Finger Eleven