Congratulations on having your poetic work accepted for publication at last! I had decided not to write any more letters since this is an outmoded form of creation. As you may know, letters are now being replaced by those plastic smellies, marketed as AROMAS.
On receiving the package, the "reader" simply pricks it open and, taking a deep breath, ingests all the contents at one go.
However, I feel obliged to issue a word or two of warning. Beware the effects of the instant literary fame. It can destroy your customary placidity, leading to excited self-regard.
How do I know this, you may ask. (Go on, ask away, if just to maintain pace and continuity.) I know because I have personal experience of instant fame.
I was a member of a pastoral poetry club in the Midlands. We were called the Hills to Combe Society. We met every Monday to read our creations. We would select the best and then arrange a bi-monthly public presentation.
One time I suffered the old problem. I had composition block! Hastily, I just snatched an old poem from my files and hurried off for the Monday meeting. The subsequent reception of my piece from the other members was unique. There was lots of head-nodding and clucks of appreciation – rather like a flock of happy hens, really. Some even applauded.
I was delirious with pleasure. A silver mist appeared before my eyes. I bowed this way and that, but finally I only achieved any sense of stability by diverting attention from my own work. I did this by reviewing the clumsy efforts of the other members.
In examining their attempts I did not restrict myself to candour or even chiding reproof. I excoriated their motives and methods with triumphant vigour. Later, when my poem was selected for the bi-monthly public presentation, I descended into personal vilification and obloquy of other people's efforts.
I did not lose my head entirely. Immediately, I instituted a Poem Rehearsal Programme for myself. in the privacy of my poem writing room I declaimed my poem to rehearse my public presentation. "I wandered lonely as a cloud . . ."
Can you appreciate the subsequent result to the above story? Just one episode hacked from a lifetime's bloody and agonising experience!
