If you dream you are writing, you are not writing.
While I had already heard of "no-shave November," a few years ago my students taught me this month is also National Novel Writing Month. For NaNoWriMo, many brave folks give themselves the goal of writing 50,000 words, chopping away at it one day at a time.
The thought of producing even 1,000 words gives me heart palpitations (this post clocks in at a mere 324 words), so more power to all of you NaNoWriMo folks out there. This month I have set myself a writing project that may be equally daunting. I've joined Tupelo Press's 30/30 Project to draft a poem every day for the first 30 days of November (MyPoWriMo?).
I've been on this wild writing train once before, in March of 2017. Some wonderful surprises came from dedicating time, even if I only could carve five minutes, to hauling my butt to the writing seat every day, especially when I had used up and was forced to reach beyond language and images that at other times felt close at hand. Also, the small community (that becomes the large community of 30/30 alumni) Tupelo creates around this common goal was and is a lovely thing.
The 30/30 project is a fundraiser for the press, and that part made the most poety part of me squeamish. But the announcement early in October that Ahsahta Press is closing up shop reminds me it is important to seek out literature in and financially support small, independent magazines and presses. You can access a lot of amazing, important poetic work in the free commons of the digital world, but a vital literary culture also needs the slower pools and eddies of edited publications to thrive and last. These pools need resources to keep gathering literature.