When you’ve spent the money, have got the MFA, have melted the VISA, are just so done with workshopping, can no longer say the word “publisher” without edging into a rant and don’t get you started on editors, eh, have run out of energy, have hit the wall, are exhausted by poetry contests that cost $20 a pop, feel like civilization’s Best Before Date is actually a Long Before Date, when all else fails, plant a seed and walk away for a few months. Then approach your mind from a different road, with a long angle lens  and see what has been growing in your absence. Look at that! Two SF novels almost ready to go! No contest.

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P.K. Page told me once, “No one ever wrote a poem by working hard.”

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