REGRESSED PROGRESS

[Branched offParticipant 11014]

Yes you are an artist because you write to be read.

A woman is like fire -fun to play with, can warm you through and cook your food, needs constant feeding, can burn you and consume all you own

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5082]

Branched off wrote:

Yes you are an artist because you write to be read.

Or do I? I think I write to internal express firstly, and then to see if any other(s) share my thoughts through wordage…..or maybe I just want the attention through the use bombastic language. I don’t know. It is a relatively new pastime.
I was of course jesting about tail chasing the female of the species being Saturday night and all.

I think every male can relate to collapsing at the knees at the first woman who shows them genuine(or perceived) interest. Testosterone is the most potent hormone.
With all relaying of country life, I take it you live in a rural setting? Gloucestershire maybe?

[Branched offParticipant 11014]

I think one has more than one driver for many things and I don’t think many artists create only to speak to others. I think that by today’s understandings of art that would make the artist hollow or shallow and somehow second class as an artist -like the guy who writes the inside of greetings cards or who designs the pictures on billboards- these folk are not given the same respect or regarded as having the same authenticity as those who fill the Tate Modern with turds and dildos to explore how broken they (and apparently humanity in general) are inside. They want a piece of your insides these days, so the mixed motivations are probably good.

The bombastic language is attention grabbing but may be a barrier to communication I think. Maybe I am just dense but I honestly don’t know what you are saying sometimes. Years ago they gave me a first and asked me to say on as an academic in a literature based subject, so I am probably not your least capable reader. (I didn’t take that path because I lacked confidence as an intellectual and I also loved nature a little too much). Sometimes I know its not me being dense. I break the sentence down like a quadratic equation and see that it does not add up to making sense -you got lost in the fun of making it complicated. I would suggest that the bombastic language be reserved for fun poems where it is clear that you are having a joke with your audience and get them in on the joke.

When you find your inner voice (which I believe is a good one) and you have a good point to make, just speak to be understood in the most evocative way you can or you will lose your potency. At that point you are trying to touch something within your audience to call something out of them. This may be a bad analogy but it is a bit like being a good lover. Its not about show -you have already attracted them and they have agreed to put themselves in your hands- at that point you are past the show its about reaching them in a way that also works for you. We have all been with an attractive woman who thought it was all about her and been utterly bored, perhaps even a bit annoyed and women complain incessantly about handsome Chads who have all the moves but can’t “reach them”. When you have something valid to say, forget the show, find the spot and hit it right.

Where do I live? I think you would have to show me yours if you want to see mine. I have been wondering about Leicester?

A woman is like fire -fun to play with, can warm you through and cook your food, needs constant feeding, can burn you and consume all you own

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5082]

Morning Mr Branch. I largely agree about the timing of the orotund language, it needs to befit the poem. Although the confusion from the ramblings is part of them. Talking in simple format takes the harshness away. By using unusual words and phases it gets the recipient’s Hippocampus ticking.
Maybe I need to send some of these off to Mr Cooper Clarke, see what he thinks?
Within a 25mile radius of Leicester. A county next to Leicestershire.

[Branched offParticipant 11014]

Good evening Mr Combover, I guess I will have to match you for disclosure. Close to the Gloucestershire border but in another county.

Yeah why not send him some of your verses or indeed send them to whoever publishes him. It seems that those who have the b~~~~ to send their writings in, tend to get published so why not?

A woman is like fire -fun to play with, can warm you through and cook your food, needs constant feeding, can burn you and consume all you own

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5082]

Somerset or Wiltshire. Can’t be the others, not classed as “Southwest”.
Good call. Did look on his website, couldn’t find a mailing address. Perhaps I should send Mr Andre and Mr Pitt the two I wrote about them!

[Branched offParticipant 11014]

Any published work must have a publisher’s name and address in it, so I think if you just search for his works, then you should be able to find out who published them and get their address.

If you want that you must give me your county please Mr Combover, though perhaps it is more appropriate in a personal message, if you can figure out how to send one of those, something which I have never initiated. It would be OK if I was publically known as the only gay in the village but the only MGHOW might be a bit more serious.

Hermit is quiet today. I wonder if he is going to come back with a smile on his face?

A woman is like fire -fun to play with, can warm you through and cook your food, needs constant feeding, can burn you and consume all you own

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5082]

Am I correct in saying you have direct contact with Mr Clarke, or others of similar ilk?
I think you have to be a paid member to send private messages.
Zipper-head hasn’t got internet access at the trailer park, so we will have to wait until tomorrow evening to further confound his microscopic cerebellum. His smile when adorned is only a wry one.

[Branched offParticipant 11014]

I wrote you a decent reply but the flipping internet connection somehow let me down and I lost it. Short version.

I know a few published authors from quite different backgrounds and subject areas. Unless they got a leg up through family and friends (and quite a few of them did at least get help and encouragement in the right places from such people) they just sold themselves relentlessly like street girls until someone took them. A progression through stages can sometimes be helpful -published in local free periodicals, enter competitions, local magazines, internet sites, literary festivals, national magazines, the radio, get published in a book. Of course if one is lucky one can jump stages. Those who succeed say one needs to keep trying and learn from criticism. I am not really thick skinned enough. Occasionally friends have pushed me to write the odd magazine article and I have and then only when they like it might I dare submit it. Cheques came back but I didn’t dare follow it up. I am either not mentally tough enough or not confident enough or both. Those who succeed just say don’t be put off keep working and improving and keep selling yourself. Maybe one day I say…

Of course publishing has become a lot more democratic with the internet and the move away from a type set printing press. Small runs can be almost self published or at least micro published and more printed in small quantity as Amazon sell the first small lot out. This is certainly worth doing if you don’t get success in the traditional path of getting a big publisher to take you on. You go to one of these small almost private publishers and then cajole all your mates to buy a copy and write rave reviews. This is very healthy and opens things up amazingly. Before the printing press people didn’t have to prove they were profitable to write, they just wrote and if people liked it they copied it. Literature would have been quite different in evolution if instant profitability was the main criterion.

A woman is like fire -fun to play with, can warm you through and cook your food, needs constant feeding, can burn you and consume all you own

[Colin Combover in a ComaParticipant 5082]

As with any artistic endeavour, confidence is key. You could always pursue. Talent never goes only stagnates.

Me, I don’t know whether to do something with them…….

Check out my latest poem, “Couldn’t box eggs” A scenario that me and that transatlantic goon are going to play out when I visit him in his wretched skeleton. I am sure you can fathom which one of us is “Juggernaut John”

[Author]

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