I like to be all high and mighty and claim that I’m never jealous. Except that it’s a total lie. I’m not jealous of my friends online or otherwise (shout out to Averil!), but when I found out that [name redacted] from my grad program got her book published by [redacted] and that that stupid annoying girl from high school is the darling of the [redacted] world, I get a bit tetchy.
But let’s be serious. Stupid annoying high school girl had a book written when she was 24. I did not. She has continued to write steadily now that she’s thirty-slightly-fewer-mumbles-than-me, and not just poem drafts that never get realized, but real book-length works.
As for the readings. This winter I realized that people don’t just fucking call you up and invite you to read places. You call them and pitch your case. And sometimes you get readings. And then you show up and blow them away (figuratively speaking, of course).
And save your jealousy for picking apart the poetry of Harvard/Iowa girl (Downith translation: highly privileged and selective undergraduate education combined with a supposedly top-flight MFA program that coined the debate on writing MFA or cookie-cutter poems) over a generous glass of whiskey. Be specific and be funny or go home.
What are you a hypocrite about?