pi & anne

Dear reader,

Again, it’s about submitting and the fragile thing that is happening between the poet and the journal. Some of you may know that I love to post on social media and my blog. It has a very simple reason. Add the matching hashtag and ANYONE who searches for that can find you and your poem. It’s kind of close to democracy. There I can reach readers, I mean people who read and not necessarily are writers themselves.

I would love to see a statistic how many people buy haiku genre journals who are not writers themselves.

What I mean to say is putting myself out there is hard, and sometimes I choose the ‘easy’ way. The more direct way. The faster one. On social media or my blog I have the control of how it will look like,  I can add a note, a caption. I can put my poem into the community of my other poems. I ‘selfpublish’. It allows me to be in contact with others, to receive commentary and discussions. Maybe underline that: contact. And add another letter: contract. This is a contract between me and my readers, they are welcome to read, but have no say in what I post. Those who relate will stay, those that don’t will scroll on. It is a possibility to be me. Feels awesome!

Something weird happens when I know I write a haiku that I know I cannot post, because I want to submit it.

It frays on the edges.

I don’t know how to explain this.  Maybe by that my insecurity about it rises. That I start questioning it more than is good to do. That I start to compare it with those that I do post on social media without second thoughts. Those are sometimes unpolished and raw, but more often they have a spark that goes missing when I know I write this poem not for all but for a submission or an award. Maybe that I have to keep in mind all the things that journals expect, what they like to read,  what is in their eyes a proper poem et cetera. It is so freaking hard to erase that from my mind while writing! I know that is on me!

I juggle the balls of expectations then, the ones by journals, other poets, readers, mine, and ultimately also those that I have in place as coping strategies (of life). It’s messy! Complex! Cuts down my creative flow.

Makes me wonder if I can be me somewhere down the line.

This is truly weird and very subjective. Also illogical, because I can share the poem after it has appeared in the journal, right?

I do!

Another weird thing, I have noticed the feeling of pride about it vanishes quite fast. So I start to hunt for the next. And for the next. Because. And I don’t like this for me. Makes me someone I don’t want to be. So I hit the brakes on repeat.

So if you wonder why you don’t see so much of me in the journals or who the heck I even am, you’re welcome! Scroll down in my instagram feed and get to know me.

You could even choose to shoot me a message (no weird, offensive ones, those will be blocked without hesitation). Just think Jane Austen, I share a lot of my morals with her.

Hugs, Kati

P.S. I am aware I might repeat myself, but that’s my way to figure things out, moving in smaller and smaller circles, again and again.