(Not) Published By 2011

Last year I embarked on a campaign to get my work in print somewhere, anywhere, and labeled it Published By 2011. I was targeting small literary journals around the country, sending them what I considered to be some of my best stories. It is now November 30 and still...nothing. Usually I'm all for sticking it out until the end of a deadline but I'm going to call it- it's not going to happen in 2011.

If you're familiar with literary journals, then you know that when you submit the editors will take about three or four months to respond. If one doesn't hear back by then chances are your story didn't make the cut. And anything submitted after September isn't going to be considered for publication until the following year. So there it is.

Could a journal contact me tomorrow and say my piece will appear in their December issue? It is possible, yes. Do I think that will be the case? Only if they're disorganized. Any journal worth their ink would have notified me in October or early November to get my permission, bio, etc, none of which occurred.

I'm upset but not devastated. I could have been more aggressive in my submissions (I didn't send out stories as much as I promised I would) and I could have been more thorough in my search for a perfect home for my literary babies. My bad! But before I can embark on my new & improved Published By 2012 campaign, there have to be repercussions for failing myself this year. Otherwise, I'm just going to slack off every year without a care.

Not to imply that volunteer work is punishment, but this year, because I didn't work hard towards my goal, I've signed up to cook at a soup kitchen for "starving artists" in Brooklyn. Normally I'd use my writing as an excuse for not volunteering my time but CLEARLY I'm not working on furthering my writing career; might as well use that time productively instead. In addition, I will be packing up and donating at least 10 books from my own collection, which, because of my tiny apartment, is already limited. The empty shelf space will remind me that MY BOOKS belong there.

Finally, I figure some defined goals and the steps needed to achieve those goals need to be laid out. No more of this haphazard, submit-when-I-feel-like-it nonsense. A TO DO list must be made. So I made one.

Next year, my friends. Next year we'll celebrate good times for real.

*smooches...still hoping to get something in for December*
------------
failure is never an option

You Do Your Thing And I'll Do Mine

Last week on the Twitter, I may have allegedly said some unflattering things about poetry. Namely that I don't like it and pretty much find it corny. This is not to discredit the work of poets around the world who entice, inspire and all that good shit- it's just not my cup of Malta Goya. I do enjoy an occasional verse, mostly in Spanish, and Shakespeare can do no wrong in my eyes, but otherwise I do not like poetry. I just don't get it.

For the record, I also don't like street-lit, weirdo performance art, country music, some modern sculpture (Oh. A big ol' wiry thing. How...nice...) and a slew of other so-called fine arts.

Here's the thing, though: I don't have to like your chosen field of artistic expression to support you as an artist. And voicing my dislike of poetry or urban lit or any of the aforementioned genres does not make me mean or a hater. It just means I have a different opinion on the subject than you do. There's no need to get butt-hurt if you're wrote "Make That Money" and the sequel "Make That Money 2: Hoes' Revenge" and I said it was garbage. That's my opinion! I'm sure you have a target audience that cannot wait for "Make That Money 3: The New Gs" to hit the barber shop. And I'm sure you're able to live a decent life with your book-money. So what the hell does it matter what I say about urban lit? Or poetry? Or your dumb, orange "sculpture"?

We can co-exist in a world where I think performance art is for crackheads and you think fiction stories and/or blogging is for people without a firm grip on reality. That's A-OK with me, booboo! I still believe any artistic endeavor serves a greater purpose, so I'll clap for you no matter what medium you choose. Even if you're the artist behind...whatever THIS is...

*smooches...setting the record straight*
----------
this doesn't need to turn into some sort of Right Coast/West Coast beef, son! and shout out to the homie Fikriyyah for those hood novel titles. that mess had me giggling for days!

I Love The Smell Of Fresh Possibilities...

I have good people in my life. I really do. All of the friends I've had for over two decades have this vibe about them, and every time we're together I feel something new, another connection that binds us. And from that great feeling sprouts another.

This weekend I saw my dear love Alex (formally of Jack's Gay Chronicles, currently of The Refined Ghetto) and it was everything I thought it would be and more. Not only was he involved in the BEST. BAR FIGHT. EVER. (I'm quoting Smarty on that one LOL!!) but we discovered another parallel in the bizarro lives we've been living and everything just made so much sense.

Also, while out and about and on my way home, I was hit on by like three different guys. I mean, I'd never actually date any of them in real life at all ever, but I was flattered nonetheless because it hasn't happened in forever. I know, you're shocked because I'm a super-HAWT bitch and give off the impression that men throw themselves at me everywhere I go, but it's not the case and hasn't been for a while. I don't know if the 'fro was right or the makeup was bitchin' or my jeans were giving the illusion of a booty or if my aura was all aglow because I was spending time with Alex, but there it was, the ever-elusive male attention. I'd almost forgotten what it was like!

For the longest time, I've been channeling my energy elsewhere- my writing, my kids, my health and fitness- and ignoring the possibility of romance. Real romance. Like, look forward to seeing you romance and I'll even allow some nasty swine to be cooked in my precious kitchen because he eats pork kind of romance. Introduce him to my family romance. That shit really exists, apparently. Over bland Asian food and Dragalicious entertainment at Lucky Cheng's, I explained to Alex how for me, sexual relations have always been blah. Like, it's great the first few times and then I'm over it and I'd rather watch TV or eat some fries. He brought it home with, "Because you've never really felt a connection; with my ex it was fireworks every time because I felt a deep connection" and that was like WOW. He's right. I've never been in love or had real romance in my life with any of the men I've slept with. Not ever.

Confession, readers: I used sex as a validation tool. It was never because I felt this bond with a guy but because I knew it was something I could do well and men like sex, ergo men will like me and if I'm liked then DING DING DING I win the prize. Except there is no prize except that empty feeling deep in the pit of my stomach after he's "finished" and I'm laying there beside him looking for the nearest exit, knowing that what I just did had nothing to do with love and everything to do with just wanting someone to make me feel special. I'm sure addicts will understand that I was constantly searching for that unattainable high in all the wrong bedrooms, those butterflies I felt with my first real boyfriend, that innocent, gleam in your eye, sing from the mountaintops high a first love sprinkles over you like pixie dust. I miss that feeling!

(I can only imagine the looks on the faces of the guys with whom I've had relations right now as they read this. Sorry, boo, but at least you know why it didn't work, right?)

But my self-imposed hiatus from anything relationship-like has been so good for me. I see what I want, what I need and what I never want to have again and it starts with me being the best Raquel I can be so that I can find the best him the world has to offer. Because we deserve it.

*smooches...loving the clarity my friendships encourage*
----------
it's only been a day and I miss Alex already...

An Open, Horizontal, Leaderless Process? Ummm...

I watched this clip and just laughed and laughed and laughed...



...and then I got a little sad because this screams of "Animal Farm" and "Lord of the Flies" and yeah, I'll say it, a little bit like communism. This is the movement that is supposed to represent me? I don't know, son, I just don't know...

*smooches...sitting back and taking in the organized chaos*
----------
and the hypocrisy of some of these protesters! HMPH
shout out to The F$%k-it List for passing it on.

Dar Gracias

Me siento dichosa por mi familia entera- los que van a comer demasiado conmigo hoy y también los que no pudieron estar con nosotros. Pero más que nada, doy mil gracias por ser dominicana y tener artistas como Moreno Negron representando a mi gente:



*besos...para todos ustedes en este dia de acción gracias*
-------
get your Spanish/English dictionaries out because I'm not translating NOTHING!