Let’s be real.

I can’t write as hard as I want to. My society can handle it, but the agents controlling the pathways to the publishers cannot and the publishers cannot. Something needs to change. The best current writers are not the ones sitting on bookstore shelves.

That’s my opinion.

 

Matt

(I’m lucky and blessed to have been published by amazing publications. I’m referring to the large publishers that tend to publish the same old, same old. The best piece I’ve submitted to agents once triggered this response, “Yea, I can’t touch that.”)

I’m on the writing trail!

I’m 700 words into my new Horror Story, “The Stump Maker,” I can’t wait to submit this! I know how it’s going to end….it’s just a matter of letting the words flow and filling in the dots. …

I hope everyone is doing as good as possible and that your day is treating you well. And please, remember, it’s a beautiful life if we let it be, even when it rains.

 

Matt

 

Bodies in The Basement won Publication of the Year, non-poetic, on SpillWords Press, NYC. I invite you to read it..

https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/bodies-in-the-basement-awarded-publication-of-the-year-non-poetic-spillwords-press-nyc-2019/

 

Cut the negative out of your life, and thrive.

“I’ve read his writing. It’s not very good.”

This statement was made, concerning my writing, by a very toxic individual whom we’ve invited out of our lives as of last year. When told by a mutual friend that I have been published, again, and that I have a book signing at the end of the month, the above, was stated.

These are the kind of games narcissists play. They know the remark will be delivered.

However, I’m terrific at tearing narcissists apart. They fear me. The remark, an attempt to knock my achievements, is empty, hollow. As the saying goes, ‘Live well, and you’ll find success,’ I’ll certainly continue to do just that. I have a blessed life, with an unbreakable faith. I hope they find joy and feel no pain.

Here, was the ending of my post.

But in a serendipitous moment of time, it went on. With Karma leading the charge. Blaine’s comment literally came moments after I wrote the above.

“Thanks, Matt! I’ll have to take you up on that offer. 😃 You’ll have to pardon my sense of humor. You know how to word those situations in life where, something happens, then we’re looking around to see if anybody else just saw the same thing? Because, if I’m doing a double-take, then surely another eyewitness must be, too. 😉 I’m glad I found you and wordpress. Nice to find out a few others, did in fact, see what I saw. LOL” Blaine Thompson.

Blaine goes on-

“Your best friend said it best. It’s no wonder why your writing resonates with so many readers. I don’t know how many times I’ve read one of your entries and immediately a specific life experience appeared in my memory. And, there’s no way I could have found the words to paint the same picture myself. It’s awesome when the writing itself is superb, but it’s even better when it has some Socratic kind of punch behind it. Glad you share with all of us what comes from your pen.” Blaine Thompson

“I can’t wait to read what you have coming up. Whatever it is, we will all benefit. You’re doing a lot more than just sharing the aesthetics of words with all of us. You’re inspiring us all, too. I hope we can return the favor to you by reading and responding.” Blaine Thompson.

Please visit Blaine. His timing is real.

https://thebluegnat.com/

Matt

I don’t know how, Blaine, but you were tuned in. Cheers.

 

The Waiting Game

Here I am sitting in line at the car wash
feeling guilty for not writing.
In fact, it’s much more than that.
I haven’t submitted anything so far this year.
As many of you know, it’s a long waiting game,
and not submitting makes the waiting all
that much longer. However, I also need to remind
myself that while writing I need to remember to live.
And it’s OK to take time for both.

Soon the submitting will begin again.
It’s what writers do.

-M. Taggart

My published work:
https://mtaggartwriter.wordpress.com/my-book/

poem

Sometimes I don’t want to write
and I do anyway
The voices are different
The walls are the same
and not, too
Doesn’t much matter
I’ll always write
and the walls
will always be there

-M. Taggart

poem

Not long ago someone recommended I write a particular story
about an idea they had.
It doesn’t work like that for me.
I told them, no thanks.
I write about what sinks into me.
I need to know it. To feel it.
It could be a story about a piece of wood.
Or even about a dog who only ran sideways.
But I’d need to know the wood and the dog.
It’s possible I could write the story for them, but
it’d never be mine and I would feel detached.
Even if it was my own father, and it was.
It just doesn’t work like that for me.

-M. Taggart

Dreams – And The Creative Process

I’ve literally been ‘given’ lines of poetry in my dreams. I wake up, do my job, and write them down.  -M. Taggart

This thought was spurred into being by an intriguing post written by Angel Zuma. It appears that Angel is a relatively new blogger.

Please, let’s flood Angel’s blog with support! Visit Angel’s post here:

https://theangelindistress.wordpress.com/2019/11/29/the-higher-power-that-is-responsible-for-the-creative-process/

Poem-

I like my morning.
It’s crisp with a rawness from the approaching storm.
Sleet, ice, some snow and rain
are in the mix for the next 24 hours. So they say.
I watched, as Megan walked Gavin down our driveway
to wait for his bus. If the storm is bad in the afternoon,
we’ll jump in the truck and pick Gavin up at his school.
I like to do that for the bus driver on bad weather days.
We live on the side of a mountain and the road is steep.
Megan has the day off.
I don’t know what we’ll do today, but clearly, I’m already
ignoring ‘work’ and writing about simple things instead.
I like simple things. Maybe we’ll go to the movies, a simple
and random thing to do on a Monday.
And maybe we’ll go for a drive on a dirt road and listen
to the sound of the sleet as it pangs off the windshield.
Maybe I’ll take a photo to share, something rustic and wild.
That’s the thing about being a self taught writer/poet-
It’s All poetry to me. The waiting for the bus, the watching
out the window, noticing a slight breeze, the thinking of what to do,
the enjoyment of the matrix of life. It’s all right there,
in front of me, waiting to be seen.

-M. Taggart

A slight clarification and a blobityblip

“I woke up in a bedroom not mine.”

buahha…Megan read that and said, “It sounds like you were in a bedroom you shouldn’t have been in.”

Let me clarify, for anyone who may have had a, WTH moment of thought, concerning this line. A bedroom not mine, was actually, our spare bedroom. I was so clogged up from the cold that I kept Megan awake the previous night. So! After the Celtics lost, out of consideration for Megan’s sleeping needs, I slept in the spare bedroom where I could cough all night without disturbing Megan 🙂 There you have it. I just like to play with words and ‘I slept in a bedroom not my own’ was much more entertaining for me to write rather than a standard line of blobityblip.

I hope everyone is ready for the weekend!

Matt