So it’s the first day of June, which, in my mind, means it is also the first day of summer.

On memorial day weekend a year ago I knew my attitude had to change. I’d already had one miserable summer stuck in the middle of nowhere and I was determined not to have another. Even though I was applying for jobs and had already set up some interviews, I knew the “stuck in the middle of nowhere” part of the summer was something I might not be able to change. But I could at least change the “miserable” part by changing my attitude.

I drafted a list of 23 things I wanted to do the 23rd summer I was alive (like the plot of a cheesy summer tween read or something). Throughout the summer, I even managed to tackle a lot of the things on the list. I wrote ten times as many poems in one summer than my entire three years at UWRF combined. I went canoeing, swimming, hiking, and camping as much as I could and found more ways to be outdoors. I started reading again, and managed to complete my goal of reading 30 books by the end of summer. I went to concerts that I actually enjoyed and spent my money on experiences instead of things for once. The best part about it though, is the closer it got to the end of summer, the more I cared about just being with people I love and just doing things that make me happy, no matter if it was on the list or not.

One thing that came out of that summer that was definitely not on the list (also like a cheesy tween summer read), is I started dating one of my best friends. It’s strange how you can know somebody for two years and then in one random weekend in the middle of summer suddenly look at them completely differently.

Anyway, at the start of this summer I can’t help thinking about the last. I need to take a page out of last year’s book and not only change my attitude and not be miserable again, but start working hard again. Because as lazy as I am, the harder I work and the more I accomplish, the happier I am.

This brings me to the title of this post. I was working at one of the libraries last week, having a busy, people-filled, rough day and I spotted the 2016 Poet’s Market on the new book display. I thought why not? and grabbed it to skim through over break. It’s amazing just how many journals and contests and publishing companies are out there in the world, just for one specific genre of work. And here I was, not even trying to get anything out into the world.

For the last few years, whenever somebody has asked me what I enjoy to write the most, I tell them, “Poetry.” They then stare at me with a mixture of pity and befuddlement and question what I expect to do with my poems. I always say I’ll start small, that I’ll send poems out for publications in journals until I have a bit of a readership. Then, I say, I’ll work on getting books of poems published.

I’ve been saying this for years, and the closest to being published I’ve ever even attempted doing was submitting work to my university literary journal my senior year of college. And even though it was all accepted, it was all things I’d written my first year of UWRF. I couldn’t help thinking how much more I could have accomplished during school if I’d had the nerve to submit my work during the first year.

I fear I’ve been doing the same thing post college. How can I move forward with my work if I’m not even bothering to send it off into the world? I keep telling myself I haven’t written anything good enough yet. And even though I share a lot of my poems with people, nothing they tell me ever convinces me otherwise. But I will never know if it’s good, or if it’s not if I hoard everything I’ve ever written at my desk.

So, now I sit at my desk, the 2016 Poet’s Market on one side, and my stack of 100+ pages of poetry on the other, starting to go through page by page, line by line, word by word, and edit everything into something worth sending out. And even if it all gets rejected, that’s how the publishing world works sometimes (okay, much of the time), and it’s better than me rejecting myself. If even I don’t believe in my own work, how could I ever convince somebody else to?

I’m going to start my 24th summer on this earth by believing in my own work for once.

And also by snagging a chair by the apartment pool when it opens in an hour, while the wee (incredibly loud) ones are still in school. That is also important.