[Tim Murphy]

This morning I woke up to seven acceptances from Australia, a country that looms large in my outback imagination. Two came from Paul Stevens and The Flea, one from Peter Bloxsom and 14X14. Four from the great Les Murray and his Quadrant. Well, I was feeling lucky, exultant, so I fixed a new sonnet on being game-checked by a warden when I was eighteen, sent it to James Babb, my editor at Gray's Sporting Journal. He accepted ten minutes later. Altogether a good way to start the week.

[Maryann Corbett]

I love your thread title, Tim. Enjoy the exultant feeling, and congrats.

[Catherine Chandler]

Very nice, Tim. Congratulations!

[Rory Waterman]

A public hurrah for you, Tim. Congratulations.

[Tim Murphy]

Thank you, dear friends. Good writing and good luck to all of us.

[Lance Levens]

Gray's Journal is one of my wished-for venue's. Congrats, Tim.

[Andrew Frisardi]

Jeez, Tim, who is that man behind the curtain anyway? That's quite a haul to start the week. Congratulations.

[Steve Mangan]

Congratulations Tim, well done.

[Martin Elster]

Tim - Nice. Congrats!

[Tim Murphy]

It isn't fair to younger poets to have to beat their heads against doors that open easily for me, but I have written since I was seventeen and done an awful lot of publishing since 1995. The Dakota Institute Press just asked to see the current work file, titled Miles to Go, and asked for an acknowledgments page. (Two days of word processing, grrr.) To my amazement this sixteen-month-old file came to 104 pages, with 81 publications, despite my throwing out half of what I compose. Some people here think I write too fast, but the editors who bit on these evidently disagree. Now if only Poetry and The Hudson Review will just swallow my newly offered bait...

I wish everyone here some Mondays like the one I had yesterday. You work hard, and you deserve it.