Meghan Sterling

There is always the first. I am now experiencing what I imagine all poets experience at some point in their careers–the roller coaster of feeling that accompanies receiving an offer to publish a first collection. Yes, it is true–within one month of submitting my first chapbook, I have received the honor of an offer of acceptance to publish. It is something to feel grateful for–someone, an editor, read it and believed in the work, which in itself feels gratifying. I believe in the work as well, even more so as time goes by and I have some distance from it.

I have until June 5th to decide if I should publish it with this particular press. In typical human fashion, I find my mind in a whirl of fear about making this decision, as though there is a right and wrong answer. Some of the thoughts are: Is this particular press the right one? (And Groucho Marx’s famous line, “I would never want to belong to a club that would have me as a member” comes to mind, as in–would any small press that accepted me feel right?) Will publishing with this press lead to other things? Does any of this actually matter? Am I just being ridiculous?

Well, yes. After the mental whirl goes through a few cycles, I recognize that I am jumping way ahead into the future, measuring and judging the outcome, when in fact, all I want to do is publish a collection of my poems with a small press, and I have been offered that opportunity. I know, from experience, that once you publish one poem, other publishing follows. So I feel that my next chapbook (already in the planning stages) will also find a home, and so on and so on, as long as I keep writing them, as long as I find writing a collection of poems so interesting.  Until June 5, I will be considering all of this, driving myself a little crazy with my fear of commitment. Until then, “Because the lonely mind has no circles to limit it. Because the urge to create is relentless…..” (From “Birds and Bees”, the first poem in my chapbook, How We Drift.)