Cop-Out

I take full responsibility for this, but creatively dry, running low on time, and overall angry with my ACW class I wrote a quasi poem about cancer. (Dad died of cancer 9/15/10. I don't want to go there.) I did it because when you write about "person" topics people leave you alone, and that week I wanted to be left alone. I didn't want to hear about "solid" imagery vs. "squishy" imagery, I didn't want people to argue about subject matter and I wanted to sit in the hot seat for as short a period as possible.

It worked. Famously.

But it really got me thinking about my goals as a writer and if poetry is even worth my time. It's not my passion. It's not what I want to spend the bulk of my time with. It's not anything I feel has any worth coming out of my head. (And then this professor tells me my poetry is better than my fiction. Good joke, guy. Good joke.)

So writing world, sorry for copping out, but I wanted to be ignored for a little while.