Loathing, Fear, Apprehension, Misprision, Strange Rejection


Josh Corey has a few things to say about my PhD crisis over at his blog. Thanks, Josh, I appreciate it. The thing is, I feel like I have faked all the other hoops, and it will be much harder to fake the dissertation. On the other hand, I shouldn't have to fake it--I'm writing about things I like. So why so much apprehension?

I have a secret fear that I'm dumber than everyone else. That's part of it. I also know that the job market is pretty rough, especially for someone who specializes in 20th century poetry. Or, uh, now it's 21st century poetry. Of course, I can work the rhetoric angle, but truth be told, the only thing I actually use my rhetoric training for is to win arguments with my brother or to scold Kirby Olson. And here's the thing--I know that I'll be competing, when I graduate, for the same 2 or 3 jobs that folks like Josh Corey and Aaron McCollough will be in the running for. Uh, guys...whodaya think's gonna come out on top there? So I'm very depressed. Karen, on the other hand, my mentor, seems to think I'll be fine, and that I'll get a good job. But it's her job to tell me that. I just want to disappear for a while.

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In other news, I received an odd rejection yesterday. The editor, who has rejected me in the past, usually with a form letter and some scribbled notes, returned the entire submission. This is notable because my cover letter says to recycle unused poems. In any case, he returned the submission and even added extra postage to ensure its safe delivery. There was no rejection letter at all. He had simply taken one of the poems, red-penned about 1/3 of the lines, and refolded it separately from the rest of the submission. I don't know what this means. Does anybody know what this means?

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I may be going crazy. Or maybe it's just too hot here. I long for Autumn. I think I am going crazy, or at least becoming over-sensitive. I mean, I took it personally when I heard that Carl A. was moving back to Boston. Is that insane?