I’ve always had this nebulous goal in life to do something, anything, related to words. For a while I was buying old used books and reselling them on eBay. For me, it was enough. Searching through stacks of books, I felt at one with them. Finding one that had been sitting unrecognized for months and pulling it out, wiping it off, knowing its value…it was enough.
Then, through happenstance, through my love of reading, I found a job as an editor for Parasite Publications. It published all of two authors. Now it has only one. But I edited books! I edited books that went on to be bestsellers on Amazon. I am still elated with this, but it makes me want more!!
Sven Birkerts calls it the Paper Chase.
I feel like I am ever so slowly getting there. I have returned to school, as an English major. My poetry professor called me in to his office last week. He said my poems are graduate level. He said if a graduate student handed in my poem he would have been ecstatic. Grad school costs money. My husband expressed his frustration when I talked about it. He was kind enough to let me go back and finish up my undergrad. Now I’m talking grad school.
I feel like I’m not being selfish. It’s for us.
Is it selfish?