Where This Blog Will Go

No clue.

I like to think that I will be able to write in the style of these first few blog posts in a long line of blog-voice expositions that focus on my writing life, histories of poems, the world as it relates to poetry and poetic thinking in my tumbling butter finger fumbling mind.

Then again, I might end up with a handful of posts that act as introductions to who I am and what I’m about as a writer. Maybe imaginary threats and very real snickerings of the academy will scare me into deleting everything (as I’ve done in the past).

Maybe this’ll turn into a place to publish digital broadsides of writers I adore & respect. Maybe it will turn into a magazine. A name change would have to occur for either of those to work.

Maybe it will stutter under a maddening cloud of restrictive, duty-like insistence to post every day and so become a diary that is mostly about my cats and my feelings. Definitely the cats, though (who have since moved out with the ex).

Hell, maybe I’ll sell pens and books and tote bags and literary coffee mugs through affiliate links after revamping my purely creative blog into a creative brand. Blagh.

Every serious writer needs this $50 pen!

Maybe I’ll sell the totally inappropriate and crude t-shirt designs my brothers and I have been cumming up with.

Obviously, I don’t really know where this blogging adventure will lead. It could just be another failure on my way to something successful. It could be how I get to teach a college course on blogging. It could be where I share almost all of my work and get in contact with amazing writers.

I don’t know. But, then, I’m not sure if I care about knowing where it will go. I just want to go.

Whatever it is and whatever it will become, it is definitely worth doing well, and there are two things I am absolutely sure about with this blog:

I won’t care what the academy might possibly could think about what I have to say


I want to meet like-minded, creative and interesting people.

Oh, and definitely share the cats (damn, that’s depressing to read after that relationship ended).

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