Eleanor Bourg Donlon
Poets, as a class, are business men. Shakespeare describes the poet’s eye as rolling in a fine frenzy from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, and giving to airy nothing a local habitation and a name, but in practice you will find that one corner of that eye is generally glued on the royalty returns. –P. G. Wodehouse
Everybody–and his Aunt Nellie–has a novel stashed in a desk somewhere. Most of them are pretty dreadful, some are rather good, and a few are moderately brilliant. Nearly all of them will never be published and those that are will not necessarily include the good or the brilliant.
For those who aspire to a literary vocation, this state of affairs is disquieting and dashed frustrating. We write, revise, dream, and labor, investing emotions, energy, and time, all the while hoping and praying for a break. [Read more...]