Tag Archives: poetry quality v quantity

24 Posts 26 Days

I suppose the title gives things away. Despite all my good intentions this will be post 24, but it is 26th January. Two days have been swallowed up by that mad whirl of naps, TV and procrastination. I can pull two days back quite easily, so it isn’t a problem for now. Be prepared for two supplementary posts over the coming days.

I had an email from an editor yesterday, two more acceptances, bringing the total for 2025 to 55. I know numbers mean nothing, because it’s about quality. But at the same time it does mean I’ve been applying myself to writing and I carried the plan through.

It’s the same with a blog a day – it doesn’t mean I’m writing better blog posts but it does, I hope, mean that I will improve because of the constant practice.

The same goes for ideas. In the past I have hoarded ideas, ready for the day when I feel that stars have aligned and the day is propitious for one of my great ideas. However, theory, and reality, seem to indicate that the more ideas you use, the more you will generate. It does seem to work.

In other contexts, I don’t consider this a good thing. Every time I think about it I remember being in a meeting once where one aspiring volunteer (or aspiring chair, if the truth is told) said “My strength is having ideas. If anyone needs an idea, just ask.”

What still makes me grit my teeth at this, is that everyone can have ideas, but what you need on a committee is people who will work.

That’s the secret with most things. I can have all the ideas I like, but if I don’t work, nothing happens. That’s why quantity is important, it means you are doing the work which will lead to quality. And if you are doing the work and achieving the quality, you may, with luck, become good.

Sunset at Sherwood

 

Day 199 (Part 2)

Outside, the sky is yellow and hazy. It’s not pleasant, but it is probably a fitting end to a day that included a new British temperature record (40.3 degrees C in Lincolnshire, an increase of 0.1 degrees on the record set at Heathrow in the middle of the day.)

I used Tesco Whoosh to order groceries when Julia cam home after work. They had run out of ice cream but they did have ice, beer and cream cakes. They don’t all appear in the recommended ways to combat the heat, but if that’s what she wants, that’s what I order. Having spent most of my day inside, I didn’t need beer, but the ice, when placed near the living room fan, worked well. And the cake – a cream slice, was nice and cool too.

The rest of the day was mixed. I sent a group of tanka off to the British Haiku Society Anthology editor yesterday and had notification of acceptance today. He chose the one i had been least happy with, but that’s life. It was a bit of a cheat because members are guaranteed to have one accepted. However, I’m in a slump and wanted (a) a success and (b) one more acceptance to make it number 100. Now I’ve reached the 100 mark I am going to give up counting. It seems like a milestone but really it’s just a number, and no indication of quality.

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This was slightly marred by the interview I listened to last night where a writer said that publication doesn’t seem as important after the “first 1,000”. I doubt I could write 1,000 good poems.

I had a phone call on the land line. It didn’t ring long and I missed it. Same thing happened twenty minutes later. I counted the rings – seven. Who rings a landline and quits after seven rings. Who rings a landline apart from nuisance callers? The answer to that is The National Health Service. Despite knowing that I work and prefer contact via my mobile at least one of them prefers to use the land line for purposes of security and clarity of connection. Practicality and my preferences have no part in the process.

I contacted the Treatment Centre and was told they had tried to contact me twice and I would now have to make another appointment. I explained that they had hardly let the phone ring, and that they knew I preferred contact by mobile as I am rarely home, but the answer was still the same. It’s the results of my chest X-Ray, which I need before I can start my new arthritis treatment. That has all had to be put back two weeks because someone is too lazy to use their notes or let a phone ring. You’d think that having tried the land line they would have tried the mobile number.

Then, having waited for the phone appointment that never came, I was free to ring the Court about getting permission to use a taxi to court for my jury service. They don’t have parking for people with mobility problems, and bus/tram isn’t practical for various reasons.

I opened my email to get the phone number, but found I had another email from the court. They have written to the Jury Summoning Bureau to have me excused from serving. It seems there will be quite a bit of walking in the court and (the real reason, I feel) they don’t generally pay for taxis, despite mentioning it in the documentation.

Looks like I’m officially a cripple now,and not required to do my civic duty. Not sure whether I’m happy or not. I was looking forward to seeing how the system worked, but I am relieved I won’t have to spend two weeks sitting listening to lawyers twisting words. I’m now considering whether to become an advocate for disabled rights – are disabled people to be excluded from their civic duty because it’s inconvenient for the court?

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