Chip and winnow

I've collected old and dusty pieces from that long and far away time when I used to write relatively frequently. Several I have submitted for publishing that were never published. I never tried again.

I've never received any feedback on my work, either - that may be / is part of the problem. 

I reviewed several poems and was pleased to see I still liked them - I'm not sure why I assumed time would turn them into absolute crap, but that's what I was expecting. One I've been particularly smitten with I did not need editing, even. 

But most did. 

My tactic here was to read, re-read, read out loud, then stream of conscious Virginia Woolf style bust out onto paper what I didn't like. I let that simmer for a few days to see if I still felt the same way, then began to actually edit.

Here is a sample of what my notes looked like:

I don’t like the title and it needs a new one.
The second stanza is awkward. The point of it should stay but it needs reworking.
More info on flowers needed specif. sheathes? Is that right? That might not be right.
The last line needs a touch up - point to remain, but defined clearer. A punch at the end to tie it all together.
And the second line in the fourth stanza I am not in love with. Needs more crafting.
First stanza needs a little tweaking on word choice but structure is sound.

It still doesn't have a different title and I haven't been able to come up with anything better.

I'm a little miffed at myself for my vagueness. What did I think I meant by, "needs more crafting," specifically? But then I really shouldn't be too terribly surprised at myself. A few months ago I came across a scribbled down recipe was clearly lacking in needed details:

Three cups of what?! Two and a half whats of milk?! I am still really unsure what this recipe is supposed to make - pancakes? Dumplings? ... glue?

So what I've learned is that my flash approach to editing doesn't really work for me. I absolutely need to take the time to be specific with myself.

I didn't have the time tonight to tell you about why this doesn't work and to find out what actually works for me, so it's something I'll have to come back to. 

If anyone wants to take a stab at reviewing the piece I reference here, please send me a message! Furthermore, if you're brave enough to try out this mystery recipe (or have any clue what it is,) by all means, share!

Twitter!

Well. I just realized that the Twitter poetry community uses Twitter to write micro poems.

That is awesome. I will do this often, now. 

So inspired, all the little poemlettes I am seeing.

I am quite pleased with the days discovery.

The lyric speaker

My writing struggle has always been writing from the self. My own gaze feels ordinary and plain and unworthy of the depth needed to make a piece of value.

Like everything I would have to say is vapid.

Part of the struggle was finding my voice, and I did eventually land on a topic that I could pour passion into. While it is not all I am, my chosen identity in my writing is woman/mother/wife, sometimes daughter (the latter I'll be touching on in my next post about personal history which ought to dovetail nicely.)

I've had my nose in Helen Vendler's Poems, Poets, Poetry: An Introduction and Anthology (which, as a quick aside, is a gorgeous text to accompany any writer,) and have been going through chapter 7- Poetry and Social Identity in prep for this post (I have the second edition.)

She writes,

"Poetry is one of the great means in which one identity reaches out to another, tries to explain itself to another, brings up images to clarify itself, finds a diction that speaks its mind, and finds a stylized form to enact its appeal. There is a danger that a reader will take the identity in a lyric as more simple than it is [...]"

I think what daunts me most is that the strongest voices, the most powerful, speak with a voice that an entire culture also agrees with and identifies with. Next to this notion, my own voice feels weak and mouse-like and without merit. The "danger" that Vendler speaks of is my real fear, here, and I think it's quite valid.

So those are my thoughts this morning, and in conjunction with them is the fact that our new neighbors happened to spot me in my husbands giant rubber boots wearing tights and a shawl, feeding the birds in our yard chunks of stale homemade bread. Oh, yes and standing next to this years Christmas tree which is sitting on the patio. I think this morning earned me at least six Crazy Cat Lady gold merits.

The one about wikihows

There is a wikihow on poetry writing and it is fabulous.

Throughout college, the only way I could successfully begin any piece of writing was to start off with an appetizer of two bottles of Miller Lite. Otherwise, I would stare at the word processor, gripped by a fear that the first words I would type would be, "all my thoughts are crap and my writing sucks," and not be able to stop, Jack Torrance style. And that's what I would be forced to submit as my paper. 

When I began to write this, it was not an appropriate time for beer (although I'm not saying I don't support day drinking, because I absolutely do!) In looking for inspiration, I came across this neat and tidy wikihow, breaking writing down in it's most simple of forms. I was over-thinking things. 

This helped. 

My goals for this blog are somewhat broad, currently. I'm hoping as I keep creating, I can winnow and crystallize my objective. As it stands, I hope to share my thoughts on the writing process, investigate forms, possibly review, and possibly maybe ask for help with my own pieces.

I absolutely welcome all feedback and thank you for following along with me.