Frozen

I'm supposed to be working on some poems right now but I keep thinking about Lorna Crozier. This is who will be judging the poetry entries in the NOWW contest. Not being very up on who is who in the Canadian literary scene (but working on it), I "Googled" her name to see who she was. And now, I'm stone cold frozen. Just the minutest chance of having Crozier read one of my poems if I make that far would be like having Stephen King read your horror novel, or Stephen Spielberg read your screenplay. None of my poems are remotely near this kind of quality. Revising, re-reading, sifting through, thinking "naw, that's not it", or "god, that sounds mundane". Surfing the net and avoiding the work. Why am I putting myself through this?

I tell myself to keep revising, keep plugging away, and try to mould something I can enter knowing I pulled out the best I could offer. This is what entering the contest is about, right? Winning is nice (who am I kidding!) - but what I really need now is a kick in the pants goal, and to keep pushing myself. Otherwise, I remain frozen and staring at a blank page. And if there is even the slightest possibility that Lorna Crozier reads one of my poems - I'll be doing flipping cartwheels! * o

Frozen