I'm trying to figure out whether I'm being pessimistic or realistic. I guess I just have to wait and see.
I read three poems this evening that I first read during my poetry writing course. Last year, they struck me as very stirring and provocative poems. Tonight I read them and had little response. I guess that's why it's so difficult being a poet. People's responses change over time. I hope I will be stirred by those poems again someday.
I have this urge to write poetry, but I'm trying to focus on my story. I only call it a novel in my head because it's nowhere close to being of novel proportions. That being said, there's still much to develop in this narrative. I really see it developing into a full-fleged book, but there's a lot of work between then and now.
Well, I don't know when they'll call tomorrow, but I suppose I should get some sleep in case they call in the morning. The wait for the news is almost over...now I just hope it's good news.