Setenta y cinco.

I am looking forward to National Poetry Month. This much, I can say for sure.

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Kinda disappointed, gente!

I put out calls for submissions for Microlandia! the journal-zine of microwriting last month, here and at my Tumblr.

Did I not press hard enough for submissions? Or give enough incentive? Was there some sort of magical formula that I could have used to garner writing from around the ether?

I grant that, on my part, there’s more than enough to preoccupy; I have to work out how not to get evicted from my humble abode, find work, and at least print a rough Issue Zero. I’ve also been recovering from a horrific brace of events, including two frustrating yard sale Saturdays, getting hit by a car (bruises and scrapes, but still traumatic), days in bed with a cold, and marking the third anniversary of my mom’s death day.

Still, I was hoping for some response beyond likes and vague happy noises. So imagine, if you please, my utter disappointment and frustration at the lack of enthusiasm–nothing, zip, zilch, nada, zero!

Now if I have to, I will go Little Red Hen and publish this as a chapzine. But I would have liked to read microwriting from other folks.

Time to regroup, I suppose. But I do mean to get Microlandia! off the ground, with or without other contributors.

So if anyone’s listening, and wants to leave their mark, stay tuned for a new deadline. But if this one falls on dear ears and numb hands, well, I’ll push on, all the same.