Gotham Writer’s Workshop

This was actually February 24, 2024

I’m in New York City for the Gotham non-fiction writer’s conference and I’ll be pitching two agents to see about getting published. I’m at the tail end of my first draft and I want to test the waters. My expectations are that I learn from the event and that I begin making myself visible, which I must if I am to make the transition from trucking to advocacy for prison reform.

I attended an open mic slam for artists last night and I mustered up the courage to get up on stage and read one of my poems. I was the first one up, my first time up to an event like this. Talk about initiation by fire, but I did well, and people responded positively. There’s no question I was the odd man out, not only because of my age—at sixty-three I was thirty or forty years older than some of the performers—but because these young poets are passionate and put their hearts into telling a story. But I put myself out there in front of an audience and conquered my fears. I may not be as passionate as these spoken word artists to memorize a long poem and put every emotion out there on stage, but I’m passionate about helping young people facing risk factors that may get them in trouble with the law.

I’ll be pitching my query letter later this afternoon and I want to take some of that passion about advocating for prison reform with me for when I meet the agents; and I feel that last night, having gotten in front of a hundred people to read a poem, has boosted my confidence to speak up and be visible. I do have a story of grit and resilience, and I do have a voice that might help my community.

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