Let me introduce myself: I'm Bill Bowling, and I'm a writer and a poet. Well, perhaps I should amend that straight on and say that I'm a self-published writer and poet. In fact, I recently published a book under my own auspices entitled Perturbance: Flash Journal, the Sevenlings; it's on Amazon. I called it Project Little Red Hen; you know her, from fable--'who will help me publish this book'; "not I," said the snobbish, arrogant publisher; 'who will help me polish my book'--"not I," said the self-important editor, "you can't afford me." I said, "I'll do it myself," and that's what I did. Yes, yes I was chief cook and editorial hatchet man; it felt good to hold that book in my hands; you, of course, would consider it garbage perhaps, but it was, as Maslow would say, a peak experience.
I'm writing at this time to talk a bit about your recent call for poets in your grant program. I was interested until I came to the part that deems me unworthy because in an act of foolishness, or reckless bravery I dared to do it myself; how interesting that I can't even in most artsy-fartsy circles get a nod for chutzpah, if nothing else; my act of creativity isn't even worthy of a look, much less full inclusion and consideration. How many possible finds does this rule out? It's simply an obvious question, maybe a rhetorical one, since no one cares, obviously. I'm not saying that I'm necessarily the lost poetic discovery, merely extrapolating off your precisely worded policy of exclusion. For your collective reassurance, I won't bother you with an entry; I certainly don't want to make your job too difficult: After all, you might have to do a little searching to find out that I'm a nobody.
Anyone who knows me can attest to one thing: I have an absolute unwavering passion for the arts; I've taught art and writing; I love spreading the word about the arts; I love the notion of a true and abiding education deriving from the arts; I believe in the notion that everyone, I mean everyone, should be exposed to and have creativity in their lives; I believe that communities should be based on the creative process in all sectors; I believe the arts make us better. There, Ive said that part. With that being said, I want you to know that I still love you, at least what you think you stand for. Any promotion of the arts in our lives is good by me, and a biased rendering is better than no rendering at all, or something like that.
So, you go on doing what you do, and I'll keep on click clacking along, and working on some more Little Red Hen Projects, and hope for the best; I'll spread the word in whatever venue will have me, and if I have to read my poetry on a street corner, I'll do it. Just want you to know I'll be okay; hope you find a good, well-established poet to give that dough to. I won't quit my day job.
Best regards from self-published land.
Yours in a mutual love of the arts.
Bill Bowling