FRIDAY, MARCH 2, 2012
I imagine Jane Austen sitting at her tiny table, writing on small sheets of paper with a quill pen, glancing occasionally at the front lawn through the window she faced, any poetic inclinations splinter like thin glass--in the face of technological reality. For the thousandth time I ask, "How did she do it?" Of course, the question applies to the myriad authors whose work has survived centuries and millennia, but somehow Jane is close enough to have become the emblem of all that labor. Besides, I visited her house once and saw that table in that room in that genteel brick house.
For me it hasn't been merely the facility of editing and speed of comunication, the Net has provided relationships I could never otherwise have found. Support (emotional and intellectual) has dropped repeatedly into my proverbial lap as a result of some electronic connection. Not only have I found people I honestly consider to be friends, they have been uniformly generous with advice and information and encouragement.
Finding myself becoming a part of a community I never envisioned, it's amazing how the presence of those who preceded me helps to dispel the "outsider" discomfort. A little nudge from one of these new friends makes it possible to try to do this self-promotion. So herewith a note to anyone interested:
The Lowestoft Chronicle published a second poem. The first from 2011 is included in their print anthology and a list of "the best of the net."
If it weren't for that Net, I'd be sitting as lonely as Jane, though in a different sort of place and with nothing in print OR on line!