Incredible as it seems, this is my 400th post on Archetype. I began chronicling my progress in the dual English and Creative Writing graduate program at Chapman University just over three years ago and have posted personal commentary, criticism, a poem, a favorite literary quote or passage, event information, a submission opportunity, or an excerpt of my original fiction or nonfiction every two to four days since.
When I sit down to post, that the content is relevant or poignant to me is paramount. Every poem, passage, or image I’ve posted has interested or moved me in some grand way. It has so affected me, in fact, that I want to share it and therefore hope that, by the post’s title or introductory lines, it will capture the attention of both subscribers and random literary blog browsers. In the beginning, I was well aware that many of my posts lived in the blogosphere unread. And, oddly, I was okay with that. There was a satisfaction of simply knowing that my words were out there…wherever “there” was.
Until recently, my compulsion has always been to write, not necessarily to be read. My beloved Poe referred often to this intrinsic value of art without function. Ah, yes…l’art pour l’art. I get it – I truly do. But three years of writing workshops with peers, submitting my work to professors, journal editors, and conferences, and presenting my essays and fiction pieces publicly have transformed me from a someday-I’ll-write-a-book diarist to an organized, ambitious, and semi-thick-skinned essayist, short story writer, and aspiring novelist determined to transcend literary obscurity.
I work, I attend classes, I read, and I occasionally vacuum. Outside of those hours, I write. When I like something I’ve written, I celebrate with a glass of champagne. And when I really like something I’ve written, I post it here for the world to read. Or not.
It is thus that we live, they say, driven by an unseizable force. They say that the novelists never catch it; that it goes hurtling through their nets and leaves them torn to ribbons. This, they say, is what we live by – this unseizable force.
~ Virginia Woolf, Jacob’s Room
Four hundred posts and counting…
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