On My Mind: 04.09.12

by Rachael on April 9, 2012

Mondays at The Variegated Life: links to some stuff I’ve liked …

At House of Flurfel, an explanation of why I’ve been able to write the first drafts of some new poems in the last few weeks (I write a first draft in about five or ten minutes), whereas second, third, and more drafts are hard won (these take much, much longer): interruptibility (via Blue Milk). Thus, reading at Ploughshares that “there are hundreds of terrible drafts behind almost every single poem” published by Matthew Zapruder (whose Come On All You Ghosts I’ve been enjoying over the past week or so), I don’t know whether to feel very, very happy or completely desperate. Happy = there are many, many chances to get it right! Desperate = how on Earth am I gonna get the time to take so many chances?

At Blue Milk, the truth about fairy tale princesses.

Christine at Quasi Agitato, on finding fulfillment through motherhood:

I expected motherhood to be all about my kids. But it has proven to be more about me than anything I’ve ever done. I thought the goal was to take myself out of the equation but I was wrong. I had a role that could only be played by me. And, to be successful, I would have to put my whole heart into it.

Leslie at Lights and Letters, on life as the mother of boys:

I like this role, mother of boys, it fits me and it feels good. I just hope that they stop bonking me in the head sometime soon.

Funny, this role seems to fit me, too. And I never even liked boys all that much when I was a little girl.

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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

Christine @ Quasi Agitato April 9, 2012 at 10:31 AM

Thanks for the mention, Rachael!

I agree that the role of mom to boys fits you, too. I always liked boys but did not necessarily want to be responsible for their well-being. Thank goodness, that changed!

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Rachael April 15, 2012 at 10:38 AM

Well, thank you, Christine!

I must say I’m relieved to be off the hook for the princess crap. But oh, the gun play. It drives me nuts! And the Critter doesn’t even have any toy guns — all it takes is an index finger!

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