Having recently learned about Canada’s tar-sand mining operations, I have found them to be a monumental man-made disaster. In Alberta, the depth and impact of this immoral business grows daily, expanding exponentially, with devastating consequences for the earth and its inhabitants; just some of us now, but eventually, everyone. Right now, the Keystone XL (KXL) pipeline venture is on a fast-track to approval in America, promising to bring crude from Canada’s oil sands to refineries on the Gulf of Mexico coast of Texas – at high risk to our air, water and other precious natural resources. Many people are unaware of this story, which boils down to greed versus responsibility. Unfortunately, the blame for “allowing this to happen” touches us all.

It’s very easy to think this issue is not too important, but right now, lobbyists are pushing KXL through very easily. Their backers are set to win, and get richer and richer, at what expense to our environment? Fueled on by unlimited demand for oil and more oil, all those influences ensure oil companies continue turning massive profits every year at the expense of our environment; after all, those corporations are only doing what our laws and actions allow them to do.

It seems clear that only people can protect nature, and although we might reasonably expect our leaders to do so, if we don’t raise our voices in concern, they really cannot stand up and fight. Sadly, I feel that the damaging effects of the planet-altering tar-sand operations occurring inside Canada’s Boreal Forest speak for themselves. Of course, to those making money in that business, negative environmental impacts are trivial compared to tantalizing “jobs” and so-called “energy independence.” Many accept those claims without thinking and seem ready to defend KXL to its bitter end. Respectfully, we invite everyone to stop this madness and help us pursue new sustainable energy solutions. We should not risk trashing America’s natural resources!

With all of this in mind, you and I have a very important job to do right now… so please join me in signing this Change.org petition: Stop the Tar Sands Oil Keystone XL Pipeline

Next, please go to tarsandsaction.org to learn the latest about the catastrophic environmental armageddon underway in Canada by oil companies, the misleading claims coming from those companies, powerful lobbyists in America and even some of our most respected leaders… and the irreversible toxic assault set to escalate against America’s natural resources if we don’t stand together now to stop it. Those behind this site are also organizing a demonstration in Washington D.C. on Nov. 6, so this is an excellent time for you to weigh in and help us advance this critical cause in your own ways. Please act soon, as the President may issue his final order granting or denying the KXL pipeline as early as November 1, so we have no time to lose.

Thank you very much for your attention, your peaceful, thoughtful action and leadership, and any constructive feedback you wish to share.

That January, I had sent the following letter to Tom Tilford at Midwest Poetry Review to thank him for publishing Ethereal Stones, share more work and continue building our relationship. The sticky note he returned with my letter appears below.

Jan. 13, 1995, letter to MPR.

1995 note from Tom Tilford of MPR.

When April came, I had more poetry to share with Tom. Into my care package I optimistically added The Gondoliers Sing Love Songs, which as you may recall, finally had its world premiere several weeks ago, in part 2 of this series. The response came by postal mail; dated on my 29th birthday, it appeared soon thereafter in my Esther Street mailbox. Much to my surprise, it was not from Tom at all… but rather, John K. Ottley, Jr., the magazine’s new publisher.

May 5, 1995 letter from MPR.

Since receiving his letter so many years ago, I have found that Mr. Ottley is a very accomplished poet and publisher in his own right. You can see that he was quite personal with me right away; the volume and depth of his correspondence really had my head swimming. At first, I was very flattered to have anyone provide specific comments on poems I’d written – so naturally, hearing them from the new publisher of a magazine I’d come to cherish, my attention was undivided… and I was literally living a dream. Unfortunately, by the time I got to the bottom, I was fuming. I wrote him back immediately, telling him to remove my poem from consideration.

I do not have the letter I sent to Mr. Ottley, but his reply dated May 19 indicates how little time passed between our respective snail-mailings – and the general spirit of my missive, for whatever that may be worth.

May 19, 1995, letter from MPR.

This entry contains no poems. Rather, I will just end with my follow-up response to Mr. Ottley. To all of this, I’ll add that the experience has been instrumental in my education as an aspiring poet, as a writer and as a professional. Among those I consider to be gateways into the literary world, I feel very lucky to have met both Tom Tilford and John K. Ottley, Jr.

What would have happened if Gondoliers had appeared in the July 1995 issue of Midwest Poetry Review? It would have been great, for sure; I can’t imagine how things may have proceeded from there, if only I’d been better at dealing with Mr. Ottley’s quirkiness, and his straightforward criticism. The man took an interest in me and really seemed intent on publishing my work; for those honors, I remain humbled and extremely grateful.

As my journey has continued, I’ve always tried to value any input received from anyone I respect, even if we disagree. I know that openness and willingness to bend is critical for achieving things with others… and that, with a little help, anything really is possible.

May 16, 1995

John Ottley, Jr.
Midwest Poetry Review
Box 20236
Atlanta, GA 30325-0236

Dear John:

Thanks for the letter. I honor your right to reply and appreciate your following through with me. That you are opening up your hopper is important to note; that I so brashly assumed you’d continue the previous policy as I did is humbling. I apologize for mistaking your judgment along those lines.

Meanwhile, I will also echo the sentiment that prompted my last letter: I sincerely wish you’d stick to the point and concentrate on communicating your message.

Your clean letters consist of terse paragraphs with no typos. Your presence in them is respectable. Your humor is also appreciated. However, I do believe some of the words you’ve chosen to send my way have undermined your messages.

For example, a tad more consideration might have led to your finding another way to relate the act of returning my poem to pulling a log from a woodpile and continuing to describe how others tumble down to fill the space. To me, that doesn’t indicate much respect for the work or the folks behind it, especially since you said it to me (a writer). Also you tell me you look for poems which hold themselves together despite the form. The way I think, rhyming poetry excels by virtue of the form, which many ignore or otherwise don’t take the time to understand. Although I realize you can’t get inside every person’s head, what I’m saying is that you can make choices which would endear me (a writer) more toward you (a publisher).

I’ll elaborate a bit more. To be real honest, I sense a contemptuous tone throughout your last letter, right up until you wish me the best, bro, and sign ‘yours sincerely’ (GULP). Since that’s your closing, I do thank you for the warm sentiments. If I haven’t imagined it, the leer must be unintended.

To help you see my perspective, I’ve so far written four screenplays for feature films (two written for-hire), an original half-hour teleplay currently under consideration by Toronto’s ShowCase Television, a dozen short film scripts (half have been produced), many commercials, PSAs, marketing scripts, articles in prominent national film, TV, pro sound and recording industry trade magazines and volumes of creative work. Over eight years of production work, I’ve helped produce presentations for top film industry executives and recently participated in productions on pilots and episodes for Columbia Pictures TV.

Thanks again for your sincerity, for relating what issues did come across loudly and clearly in your letters (you did like my work, you’re at the helm publishing a new MPR, that you take a personal interest in poetry), and for sticking with me as I try to help you make the most of the opportunity you’re shaping.

Best wishes,

Roger Darnell

Arc of the Poet
Part 1: Life Poetry
Part 2: Tour de Force
Part 3: True Love
Part 4: Spinning Out
Part 5: Wake-Up Call
Part 6: Serious Dreams
Part 7: Home Stretch
Part 8: Feedback
Part 9: Dear Departures
Part 10: Good Poetry
Part 11: Rewrites
Part 12: Resistance
Part 13: Fame and Fortune
Part 14: Ramblings
Part 15: Being

Thank you very much for your interest in my education and exploits as a poet over the past 20 years. With Arc of the Poet, I’m aiming to share the most interesting highlights and lowlights as briefly, and as colorfully, as possible.

Even before 1990 had officially begun, I recall feeling anxious for it to be over. It truly was an endurance test for me, involving one marathon ordeal after another. I turned 23 that year, with no fanfare, and I took that as a sign of maturity. I also persevered in seizing my military and college experiences with the best of my thoughts and abilities, which I saw as evidence of my growing strength and confidence. By the time it ended, 1990 gave me a great deal in return for all my efforts.

Looking back now, 21 years later, I think my determination to forge my own career path as a freelance professional is the richest of many valuable life lessons I carried into 1990. For that reason, I now have extra appreciation for this poem I stopped to write back on December 30, 1989. Its final stanza puts that important mindset into clear perspective.

Another idea I embraced during those days was that there’s no such thing as defeat, only education. In January, I set my sights on graduating in December with two B.A. degrees. In the course of earning the 33 upper-level college credits necessary to pull that off, I took on new duties with my Air Force Reserve unit, and worked as a freelance word processor and audiovisual stage-hand. All that work barely kept me above the poverty level, but my motivations were clear; since every choice was completely self-driven, I was determined to succeed.

Through all these experiences, I was being graded by instructors, supervisors in many industries, military officers, professionals stretching from the top to the bottom of the creative industry, and even editors and readers at my university’s newspaper. For the last 16 months before graduating, I wrote a weekly humor column entitled “Observations.” Looking over the journal I kept, I can see that one day in October, the editor in chief told me point blank: “I think some of what you write is shit…” I cut myself some slack, knowing how hard I had to work to write those columns, but took her criticism on the chin, and kept on learning and trying to improve. Around the same time, I failed to win a big scholarship I had applied and interviewed for, and experienced some other disappointing setbacks.

Fortunately, a few key positive developments shaped up, too, and together with the unwavering support from my family, my good friend and roommate Jay Lerew, and many other close friends, that proved to be all I needed. My humor column helped me win a Scripps Howard Foundation Fellowship… but much more importantly, it also helped me win the heart of an amazing girl named Beth Ann Kiefert. Friends, I am very proud to say that the addition of this young lady into my life is the key ingredient in the joyous, rewarding life walk I’ve been enjoying ever since.

From June through August that year, Beth took off with a few friends to backpack across Europe. Ultimately, that period was intensely productive for me, as I maniacally threw myself into one duty or commitment after another, trying my best to stay busy until her return. I set goals to write a novella, a full-length screenplay, and a collection of my poetry specifically for children. Although none of those projects came together during those weeks, I did organize my poems chronologically, type them up and begin preparing a few submissions for local writing competitions.

By the time December was ending, I had collected my diplomas and my honorable Air Force discharge, and started building a new life with the girl of my dreams. Suddenly, my next-level goals were coming within reach. At that magical moment in time, I saw literary recognition and success as one possible path to financial freedom, which I felt would allow me to read and write to my heart’s content. While I also had to recommit to the opportunities I could line-up as a freelance wage-earner, I began mounting serious efforts to get my creative writing into print. Guiding and supporting my ambitions was this beautiful, energetic, vivacious girl, who that year gave me the most prized of worldly possessions for keeps: true love.

I have just posted the full time capsule, featuring the thoughtful, humorous, satirical and/or fictional work of a rather atypical central Florida college student at the turn of the 1990s, online at www.rkdarnell.com (in the “What’s New” section, please see the “Observations” entry). And although this is not the best or most coherent of the bunch, I thought I’d use this space to share the entry that appeared 19 years ago to this day.