Getting Up

Whichever term you prefer –becoming known, getting yourself out there, the road to glory and fame –the writer’s lifestyle is, as I see it, like my adolescence as a graffiti artist. (I’m the knucklehead in the navy blue cap and white t-shirt waiting my turn.) Though even now, at times it’s like I’m back on the roof of a building at one in the morning with a backpack full of Krylons and tips in my hand, helping a buddy climb up.

            Allow me to compare illegal artistic activity to academics. There really is little difference as far as practice towards success.

No one knew me or cared who I was, and the same goes before a first (or any) publication, right? You have to “get up”.

“Getting up” refers to the amount of production a graffiti artist puts out. For writers, getting up means publication credits.

            I had a crew back then. That’s my cohort; the program I’m in. Minnesota State University, Mankato’s MFA.

            Getting up in the streets works like publishing: not easy. For now, nevermind cops; we had rivals. Rivals for us are all the other writers out there in the literary world. On the street, if you get crossed out or painted over that’s the equivalent to a rejection. It’s another writer beating you out to a publication because his or her craft was tighter.

            Back then the only ones that knew about me and my crew were me and my crew, so of course we wanted to be known. But no matter how good we thought we were we had to do it –well and often– to prove it. There were at least two key elements that.  

Consistency

I drew all the time –on backpacks, textbooks, T-shirts, my bedroom walls. My hand got steady. I got better.

Practice. Discipline.

An artist cannot amass too much work. After you finish a story and you think it’s done put it away and start another.

Persistence

Whenever any of us got crossed out or gone over by another artist we always had the same idea: go back.

We went back and kept going back. If you get rejected, take it for what it is, but don’t call it quits.

My crew made me better because I wanted to be as good as them. I consider my cohort a solid one. We push each other to produce more and often.

            Utilize your cohort. Swap stories, poems. Critique to improve. Pull each other up and get published.

-Michael Torres -Poetry and Operations Editor, Blue Earth Review Crew