TWAS THE LAST NIGHT OF 2013

Twas the last night of the year and what do I see?
A pile of rejection letters staring at me.

Oh, woe’s me. I fill up my glass, plop down in front of the fire,
hoping for an idea, a thought, something to inspire.

But the clock is ticking and the kids start to shout,
“Are you done with your writing? It’s time to go out!

I think to myself as I start to smile,
the thoughts that are coming may take a while.

With pen to paper I sit and the words begin to knit.
With any luck it won’t be complete shit.

The fire is popping and I am not stopping.
The main character is talking, her love is walking.
There’s flying and spying and oh God, someone’s dying!

I scribble and scratch to keep up the with cast.
Who knows how long this creative genius will last?
I can barely read what I wrote;
does that say “he grabbed a chicken” or “he dusted a goat?”

It’s not important now. I’ll figure it out.
Maybe the bad guy fights with a trout, or grows a snout, or maybe it’s best for now to just leave him out.

Yes! It’s brilliant! Stupendous! Magnanimously great!
The poetic words are flowing.
All night I keep going.
Now I can show them. Now they’ll see.
THIS work that I’ve done is why they must sign me.

I smile a triumphant smile, a smile of relief.
2013 will NOT end in defeat!

I’ll send the query tonight before the clock strikes twelve.
My new agent will call me with a contract to delve.
She has an editor lined up and ready to buy, and the movie, well, she knows a guy.
The foreign rights? Oh, they’ll sell too.
“Just sit back and collect the money, that’s all you have to do.”

My very own giggle wakes me from sleep.
An empty glass in my hand, pen at my feet.
No words on the page. No agent has called.
No movie. No guy. Oh, for the love of God, WHY?

The horror! The outrage! How can this be?
I raise my fist to the sky but then have to pee.
While nature is doing it’s natural thing, I think to myself
and the words start to sing.
I have them, they’re here, each little pearl.
I haven’t forgot. I go to work with a whirl.

I start with the rejection letters and throw them into the fire, they’ve done their job which of course was to inspire.
Never give up. Never stop trying. The only thing to keep me from getting published will be dying.

So another year begins with me typing away, and just as it should be day after day.
I’ll write down the dreamy dreams in my head.
I’ll write about wondrous things I’ve heard said.
You can’t hear them or see them till I put them on a page, but when I do, it will bring you to tears, laughs and rage.

Take heart all my brothers and sisters of the craft,
May you prosper, may you write,
May your 2014 take amazing flight.
Put pen to paper and fingers to keys,
May your words bring tears, laughter and bended knees.

Peace to all, and to all a goodnight!

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