So things are going pretty well, really. I've had my first meeting with Polly and it seems like my work has enough going for it to carry on... and that I've already been doing all of the usefully organised things like entering competitions (Picador Poetry Prize... fingers crossed) and sending work to magazines and collating work into pamphlet as well as collection form. I'm still not sure how to progress in approaching publishers, but I think it means being very selective and reading their back catalogues (more than I already do) in order to find a place where I think I might fit in, should they choose to take me on (fingers crossed). This is opposed to the scattergun approach to submissions, which I think can work against you.
There are just so many other super-dooper poets out there. It is a little alarming to think of all the other people doing scarily similar things to me and keeping their fingers similarly crossed for exactly the same things. It's a wonder any of us gets anywhere, really.
The cube is a super place to sit and work, anyway, and highland cows keep wandering past my window, drinking at the pond or ripping up great mouthfuls of grass with their surprisingly powerful tongues. A duck had a little fishing expedition on the water this morning, too, and I'm sure I can see frog noses or something popping out every now and then. There are a couple of beautiful jays flying about as well. Just enough excitement to keep me from going mad with isolation, but not enough to distract me from the creative pursuits which brought me here in the first place. Excellent.
My first frost of the year was experienced this morning, and I made myself run out in it in order to get the full experience of being present in my surroundings. I think it worked. Today has been my most productive so far, though I have a niggling feeling that I'm coming down with some sort of chesty cough. More fingers crossed for that one, though they're crossed for the negative rather than the positive this time.