Receiving acceptance letters like this affirms that I am still capable of multi-tasking. Namely: watching basketball, writing, and ignoring my wife simultaneously. It's like dribbling two basketballs at once (which I can still do by the way).
Naturally, it is not easy to write poetry over the top of Jay Bilas, and it is even more difficult to write romance poetry when I consider his bald head. I have to work hard to capture images of my lovely wife while conjuring up words that rhyme with "microwave" or "soup" or "leftovers".
And I'm always amazed when editors write back and say things like:
This essay is good . . . but it's almost as if you were writing it while watching a basketball game. Your essay on potty-training doesn't need dribble imagery or phrases like "driving hard to the rim". Let's lose these, shall we?
OR
I really liked your series of poems on dealing with menopause (from a male perspective). But these poems have a little too much basketball in them, don't you think? Phrases like "Getting Hot" or "Just Another Bitchy Coach" or "Camping Under the Basket to Find Some Peace and Quiet" don't really fit with your assertions of love and understanding elsewhere expressed in such excellent and adorable menopausal verse. But listen, if you can revise these poems and make them acceptable to our readers (remember, our magazine is Pole-Dancer Digest, not Reader's Digest) we'll publish the lot. In fact, we'd be honored to see more of your menopausal thoughts. The ladies just love 'em around here . . . and we have a feeling your wife is something special.
Until the NCAA tournament is over, I'm sure I'll continue to multi-task into the wee hours of the morning. It seems to be helping my production.
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