Saturday, February 8, 2014

Random Weekly Summary 2/8/14

Hello, visitor! 

Thank you—for whatever reason—for stumbling onto my blog. I cannot guarantee you’ll like where my mind goes sometimes, for my mind is mine and doesn’t stay on the same path as yours, though I do tend to wander and we might meet up ever-so-often.

The first topic I want to address today is Book ADD. My life is filled with books right now that have a page here or there read, ranging from “Casino Royale” straight through Montesquieu’s “The Spirit of Laws.” I still haven’t even finished “Atlas Shrugged,” which I started about a year ago—though that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped reading it completely. I don’t think there’s a cure, and I don’t really want to look for one, because doing so would limit my interests. I find interest in just about everything.

Speaking of interest, yesterday I took a personality quiz for work. I took one that wasn’t work-related last year, and came up with INTJ. Well, the one I took yesterday shows that I’m ISFJ. So, as far as I know, the two middle letters are always changing. The first and last letters are constant. Anyway, ISFJ’s are known as the Guardian Protectors, like Dr. Watson, which is odd when considering Professor Moriarty is INTJ.

I found a list of common traits on

People with ISFJ personality types tend to have the following characteristics:

Reliable, stable and down-to-earth
Enjoys order and structure
Dislikes conflict and confrontation
Kind, warm-hearted and considerate
Likes concrete information
Very aware of other people’s feelings
Has a great memory for detail

I actually agree with all of these—especially the last one—but I do have moments where I’m not really all that stable. Of course, after some alone time, I usually get back into the groove. Without my alone time, I will admit: I am a bitter woman. The funniest thing (which is also true) that I read about ISFJ’s is the fact that they unwaveringly stick to their guns. I am like that on many issues. Also, the mention of family and friends was spot-on: I cling too tight to those I love, which can seem somewhat overbearing, even if I do mean the best.

On the topic of best, I took the SAT a few weeks ago. The horror story of that, other than the math, is the wait. I have five days to go before I know if I passed or not, regardless of how many nightmares I have. I’m pretty sure I did really well on the reading/writing sections, because that’s stuff I do for fun, but math... ha, ha, ha. I wish there existed an option to opt out of a test, or take another test in place of one you hate. I would definitely take a social studies test over a math test. Or... they can like... give me a test on math history, with Euclid and all that jazz. But... no... there’s obviously a ton of math involved in obtaining a bachelor’s in management at Kennesaw! Functions, slopes, circumference, diameter, ew. The stuff makes my skin crawl. If they really based the questions on real life applicability, they would give me percentage questions because I shop; fractions because I can cook (basic foods, anyway); or even questions with dollar signs on them—because I LOVE MONEY. Seriously, though, I doubt I passed the math section. I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist.

Thankfully I have a good boss who is letting me off the day after I find out my scores, which happens to be Valentine’s Day. Who am I kidding? She is more than a good boss. She is awesome. I get the day off; and I get to use the spa day gift certificate she entered my name for last year. Being an introvert, I will definitely be nervous when everything gets started, but I’m determined to have a good time and get my mind off my scores. Tons of love for her, should she happen to stumble onto this blog.

Not so much love for the literary magazines that keep sending me rejection letters. Other than Fjords Review and Literary Orphans, I have been turned down over and over and over again. Maybe, since I’m not mainstream, my poetry doesn’t connect to most individuals. Then again, most lit magazines want money for entries. Money I don’t have. I feel good about finding the free ones—until they send me rejections, which they’re pretty fast about. Maybe I should drop the idea of submitting poetry and try submitting fiction instead, since the writing websites I was involved in before this gig often praised my fiction. Then again, my readers probably did that because they were hoping I’d go to their work and enjoy it, which usually resulted in spending an hour editing. Maybe I should stop submitting completely and focus on editing. I don’t know.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not discouraged or anything, because I’ll continue writing until death come’s knocking, but the letters are always saying stuff like “it’s not what we’re looking for,” which leaves me confused. Or one I received recently “We enjoyed your poems. However, they are not what we are seeking...” You enjoyed the poems? Isn’t taking the time to enjoy something worthy of saying, “Ah, yes, that’s precisely what I’m seeking in my magical literary ball...” How cryptic! If I was the editor for a magazine, I WOULD NOT CARE ABOUT HOW OVERLOADED I BECAME—I would send an email that stated precisely WHY the magazine couldn't accept the piece of work. I sure as hell won’t have a typo in the email—and, trust me, I’ve gotten my share of those from the “high and mighty” editors. After all, a good readership stems from having work from masterful wordsmiths, using each word with sharpest intention. Emails like this only confuse and irritate the writer.


Didn’t mean to rant.

I mean, after all, the strongest point is for me to remain true to myself, above all else. I’m thinking about a self-published book of poetry called “Renee’s Rejects.” Nice ring to it, right? I tried the self-publishing route and didn't like it all that well. At least with this route, despite the rejection letters (usually about three sentences long), I really am enjoying myself.

I shall close this blog entry with my latest reject:

“a living misnomer”

eyes half closed
drifting, diverting
warp speed unravels
cosmos’ weaving

while you search:
a living misnomer
in dead space

somber captain,
event horizons lure you
with black-hole destined

seeking a people
starved by stale moonlight
& eaten by time

your travels continue
in the span of my radiated arms
and my solar mouth,
where pulses emit
without end

while you age

& crumble like stardust


  1. I can't figure out what the magazine's want, either. Your poetry is so strong and evocative, You're voice so unique. Keep trying. That's all I can say. At least you have the courage to submit. It terrifies me. Maybe we should start our own poetry magazine.

  2. Thanks, Susie. I love your poetry, too. I think years of not winning contests on writing sites sort of hardened me a little. I don't think you should be terrified. There are a lot of good magazines out there, thirsting for... something. I'm yet to find what exactly. What would we call the magazine?

  3. Rejection Letters. Ha! I wonder if anyone would read that magazine.

    1. Actually, I bet they would. lol