Holy Shit!

Not this is a not a post about the Pope on the can, or other religious silliness. It is an honest reaction of something that I've done and did not expect the response.

Before I get into the details, there is some background. A couple of months ago, I found this amazing site, named - Urbis: Applied Collective Wisdom. This a site where writers can submit their material for review.

What makes this site interesting is it is based on a credit system. To get reviewed, you have to review other people's stuff. Each review gives you credits, which you can use when you read reviews on your stuff. It is not a passive site where you can sit back and just get people to review your stuff. You have to do some work.

Over the past couple of months, I have been reviewing some of the stories that were posted. Building up my credits. The goal was to prepare my first foray into the site with one of my short stories: The Sacrifice. But on Friday, I decided to put my toe into the water with a poem I wrote back in the late 80's, A Precious Few.

Now poetry is not my strong point. This is a form which requires you to be compact and straight to the point. I have a tendency to babble, so poetry was never an area I explored. But I did write some, which I thought were a little pedantic but they worked in the short story I put them in.

Before I decided to submit The Sacrifice, I decided to test the water with A Precious Few. My expectations were that a couple of people would read it, say it is shit and that would be the end of the experiment. Boy was I wrong.

Within a day, I got 25 reviews. Most were thoughtful and helpful. A couple were just snarky, not getting the point of the poem. But each one gave me insight from different angles.

Yeah, my ego got stroked when I read things like:

This poem made me realize the different stages of friendship. I never considered a difference. I believed that friends were friends, but now I see the real differences. Thank you for helping me realize this.

or

The poem has a lot of truth to it. True and to the point. I like it.

Then I got reviews like:

Okay, I’m going to disagree with your descriptions of friendship. It just seems like you came up with random lines and applyed them to friendship in a short, damn near meaningless poem. These lines describe romantic relationship’s more so than friendship. If you changed it to that I think this would work better and actually hold weight.

or:

Friends are not that. You wrong. But it sound good. If that all for matter – then – good. Else – bad. But it have pretty wordings.

Once again, I am stunned by what I can do. I am passionate about my writing but there is always that little voice which says you are not that good. You don't have anything really to say. You are covering old ground, not being original.

I wish I could fully describe how jazzed I am by this experience. Up to this point, my friends read my stuff. They were honest and blunt. But also safe. This was my first foray into the cold, cruel world where people who don't know me from a hole in the wall were willing to spend some time to read my poem, let alone review it.

And most of the reviews were not just glowing, saying what I wrote was great. Many of the reviews pointed out the flaws, problems, etc. I was told: show don't tell. The poem was cold, make it more personal. Try this instead of that.

Honestly, I did not expect anything from my first experiment. But the result has me flabbergasted. That one review where the reviewer said that they just saw friends were just friend but now saw the difference floored me. My words made someone say that, without asking for it.

This little experiment as just reminded me the power of the artist's craft. Be it words, oils, musical notes or clay, people will react. Some will hear, some will just complain. We cannot please everyone.

The first step is to please ourself. After that, it is all just gravy or icing. That is finally kicking in for me. I have always been proud of A Precious Few, even though I knew it needed work. It was simplistic and cranky. And now, 25 reviews later, I see avenues to make it better.

What a day I have had! It has been a rollercoaster ride where I had to put my pride on hold and let other people comment on what I had to say. And fucking A! I do have a voice. I am not just some hack regurgitating drivel.

Okay, okay! It was just one post and I have more to do. The journey has just started. Right now I am that lizard, basking in the sunlight, belly up, soaking in what is being sent my way. But it feels so fucking good.

So gentle readers, I will sign off but I will give you the twelve lined poem which started this all.

A Precious Few

Friendship
A long and hard road.
Friendship
A rocky precipice.

Real friendship
A naked soul.
Real friendship
A sharp-edged sword.

True friendship
Few and far between.
True friendship
Cherish the ones you have.