It never pains but it roars...
• Thieves Jargon said aye to my poem, Fishing dead bodies in water. You gotta love this 'zine — beautiful layout and the poems are 100% weird meat (my cuppa blood). The current cartoon is a riot, too. Even though it's quite self-explanatory, the Italian caption adds so much more Paf! to the whole thing: "Premetto che non mi ha fatto male ma mi ha incuriosito" = "Before anything, I have to say that I wasn't hurt, just intrigued." I thought initially that the editor was referring in some way to that when he wrote that my poems intrigued him pleasantly. He admitted not knowing Italian and I seriously doubt my stuff could ever pack such a kick.
Submission date: 8 May 2007
Reply date: 29 May 2007
• After some negotiation, Smiths Knoll has accepted my poem, And Why Shouldn't I Cry Over Seinfeld? for their Autumn 2007 issue (#41)... which means I get another one-year subscription — which is the whole point I've been pestering them for one whole year and taking the rejections like a donkey. My multiple selves are going wheeee!
They've got a quick turnaround rate, too. A fortnight tops. After years of sending them work, I confirm this with zeal.
Submission date: 7 May 2007
Reply date: 18 May 2007
Confirmation e-mail: 30 May 2007
• Tipton Poetry Journal has accepted my poem, Heritage and the Gorilla Suit for their Summer 2007 issue (#6). I really enjoyed my print copy of the 'zine and thought I'd try with them again. Hope to see a lot of fellow bloggers in this issue!
Submission date: 27 May 2007
Reply date: 30 May 2007
• And last but not the least, I sent some photos to Siren on a gamble and... wooohooo! They'll be using some in their 5th issue (due out in September 2007). Am quite electrified!
To top it all —
as Agatha Christie said: "I'm a sausage machine, a perfect sausage machine."
Which means I've finished my 7th round in 30:30 today.
Won't bother posting the whole list of poems... just the idea makes my eyes drop dead. Will go for another round on June 1st, but for now I'm putting up my feet. Maybe. The husband has just offered me a data-entry job to do tomorrow, saying: "Darling, it's so boring that I know you're going to love it." How can I refuse?