Sometimes we all need a reminder of the value of our work, not the pats on the back or the ego stroking that some writers need to before they can write the next word, sentence, paragraph, page or chapter, but the quiet validation that others have enjoyed your work enough to publish it.
Today I tidied my study, sorting through piles of loose paper and notes scribbled on scrap, emptying and sorting the contents of magazine holders, and letting go of letters and memorabilia of my early writing days that were yellowing in the overflowing filing cabinet. From there I moved to bookshelves and, while I didn't part with any, I did manage to make them fit more snugly and sit up straighter on the shelves. I cleared the big round coffee table that tends to grow paper piles, seemingly overnight, and I threw out six bags of paper stuff I no longer needed. Such is the life of the writer, poet, and workshop facilitator, we are the hunter gatherers of paper.
In tidying my books, I set aside my own publications and others I had been published in, a modest pile, but one that tells me others have read and enjoyed my work. Tomorrow I will return to the keyboard and write in my neat study and someday, maybe, I'll have another book on my shelves with my name on it.
