I have nineteen poems published in ten publications and even got a light bill paid, once for my trouble. I shall soon have up a novel, and within a year, two or three poetry books, a book of Turtle Diaries and one of Fables. Pursue your writing with all of your heart, and what will come to you shall, self fulfillment guaranteed. Mark Twain wrote something like this once: One day God had a parade to honor the greatest poets who ever lived. There was Basho, Lorca, Shakespeare, Donne, Hopkins, and on and on, and at the head of the pack was a boot maker from Tennessee nobody had ever heard of and who never got published, but, no matter, nobody could remember his name, afterwards, anyway. So goes it.
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