This is a topic I'm so passionate about because I see it holding back so many talented writers. For me, the real 'click' happened when I started the 'Fictional I' exercise.
Writing from the perspective of a 19th-century lighthouse keeper taught me more about my own voice than a dozen autobiographical poems. I highly recommend trying it!
OMG you are so right! I have a follower on Medium who slays me every time I post and says things like….”You need to find something in your life besides a man”.
I tell her every time it’s not me talking that I am fine but she persists in thinking I am so love struck I am hopeless.
Again, I clarify but then I had to ignore…she just wasn’t getting it. Thank you for writing this!
It's very common Laney that readers connect a poem's content with the writers personality, to the extent that many poets hesitate to write about certain subjects, which is a shame.
Writing poetry is a very physical act. I write with my whole body. I break bread with myself. And you reminded me of that cold chisel process with this powerful, passionate essay.
With poetry, I work very slowly, word by word, line by line, with (mostly) absolutely no idea of where I'm going. I don't care. Direction takes care of itself, thematically and technically. I trust my imagination and love of language to get me there. Music is what I hear, and I go under its spell. I'll work on a poem for days or weeks, and watch as it reveals itself in stages. I think it's dangerous to establish a theme and then try to write to it. Endings are always difficult, though I know when it's over. The only similarity to fiction is in the rewriting. Crafting syntax is something I adore, but again, with poetry, the process is magnified and amplified, and very slow.
A favorite analogy of mine for the poem is the eye chart, when you this big E, at the top of the chart when you take an eye test. A poem should start with a big E, you know, something everybody can recognize. The gambit of the poem is not making any demands on you emotionally or intellectually. It's sort of setting something up that's undeniable. Something like "I'm sitting here at the window with this tree. It's snowing." I mean, the reader can't say, bullshit, I don't buy it. And then as the letters get smaller the poem can move into areas of ambiguity and subtlety, or fantasy and hypothesis. The poem should start in Illinois and get to Oz.
Thanks brother. Id love to start a correspondence with you. Subscibre to each other and follow up on our work! I imagine that our bonded will power with these exercises will bear much fruit. I'll be in touch! Looking forward to reading more from you. Thanks for the deep self reflection. Illuminated by your powerful writing. I do believe that you are a powerful thinker with mad skills
Taylor, thank you so much for this incredibly thoughtful and articulate comment. It's less a comment and more a beautiful miniature essay on the creative process. You've really honored the post with this level of engagement.
I like your description of writing as a physical act, of "breaking bread with yourself." That's a perfect encapsulation of the immersive, almost cellular, commitment it requires. Your process of trusting the music and letting the poem reveal itself slowly is a testament to a deep and patient connection to the craft.
Your "eye chart" analogy is brilliant, truly one of the best metaphors for a poem's structure I've ever heard. "The poem should start in Illinois and get to Oz." I'm going to be thinking about that for a very long time. It perfectly captures that journey from the universal, undeniable image to the subtle, ambiguous, and magical.
Thank you again for your generous words and for sharing your own profound insights. It's a privilege to have you in this workshop.
Thank you tom! nice of you to say. know you appreciated my thoughout comments and written reflection. But I wanted to ask if you could replenish my effort with a subscription? This will keep me accountable and motivated with reading your upcoming posts. As I have done the same for you. Since your work deserves it.
This is a topic I'm so passionate about because I see it holding back so many talented writers. For me, the real 'click' happened when I started the 'Fictional I' exercise.
Writing from the perspective of a 19th-century lighthouse keeper taught me more about my own voice than a dozen autobiographical poems. I highly recommend trying it!
OMG you are so right! I have a follower on Medium who slays me every time I post and says things like….”You need to find something in your life besides a man”.
I tell her every time it’s not me talking that I am fine but she persists in thinking I am so love struck I am hopeless.
Again, I clarify but then I had to ignore…she just wasn’t getting it. Thank you for writing this!
It's very common Laney that readers connect a poem's content with the writers personality, to the extent that many poets hesitate to write about certain subjects, which is a shame.
Writing poetry is a very physical act. I write with my whole body. I break bread with myself. And you reminded me of that cold chisel process with this powerful, passionate essay.
With poetry, I work very slowly, word by word, line by line, with (mostly) absolutely no idea of where I'm going. I don't care. Direction takes care of itself, thematically and technically. I trust my imagination and love of language to get me there. Music is what I hear, and I go under its spell. I'll work on a poem for days or weeks, and watch as it reveals itself in stages. I think it's dangerous to establish a theme and then try to write to it. Endings are always difficult, though I know when it's over. The only similarity to fiction is in the rewriting. Crafting syntax is something I adore, but again, with poetry, the process is magnified and amplified, and very slow.
A favorite analogy of mine for the poem is the eye chart, when you this big E, at the top of the chart when you take an eye test. A poem should start with a big E, you know, something everybody can recognize. The gambit of the poem is not making any demands on you emotionally or intellectually. It's sort of setting something up that's undeniable. Something like "I'm sitting here at the window with this tree. It's snowing." I mean, the reader can't say, bullshit, I don't buy it. And then as the letters get smaller the poem can move into areas of ambiguity and subtlety, or fantasy and hypothesis. The poem should start in Illinois and get to Oz.
Thanks brother. Id love to start a correspondence with you. Subscibre to each other and follow up on our work! I imagine that our bonded will power with these exercises will bear much fruit. I'll be in touch! Looking forward to reading more from you. Thanks for the deep self reflection. Illuminated by your powerful writing. I do believe that you are a powerful thinker with mad skills
Taylor, thank you so much for this incredibly thoughtful and articulate comment. It's less a comment and more a beautiful miniature essay on the creative process. You've really honored the post with this level of engagement.
I like your description of writing as a physical act, of "breaking bread with yourself." That's a perfect encapsulation of the immersive, almost cellular, commitment it requires. Your process of trusting the music and letting the poem reveal itself slowly is a testament to a deep and patient connection to the craft.
Your "eye chart" analogy is brilliant, truly one of the best metaphors for a poem's structure I've ever heard. "The poem should start in Illinois and get to Oz." I'm going to be thinking about that for a very long time. It perfectly captures that journey from the universal, undeniable image to the subtle, ambiguous, and magical.
Thank you again for your generous words and for sharing your own profound insights. It's a privilege to have you in this workshop.
Thank you tom! nice of you to say. know you appreciated my thoughout comments and written reflection. But I wanted to ask if you could replenish my effort with a subscription? This will keep me accountable and motivated with reading your upcoming posts. As I have done the same for you. Since your work deserves it.
I have subscribed and also recommended your Substack newsletter.
Wow. thank you very much, Tom! Won't forget the name nor your distinctive writing voice. Will be back reading your next post!