personal draft #5 June 26, 2007

Explain your experience and approach to writing workshops:

When I first starting writing poems regularly, while an undergrad, I often brought my first drafts to the workshop. (I would never do that now.) If it was a class full of people my age, to be honest, not many changes were made to these early drafts. It took being in class with several better writers for me to get the criticism I needed. When I could, though, I took my writing classes at night because there tended to be more variety of who registered for these classes. Sometimes, I would be the youngest person in the room. I think it’s good to get out of your comfort zone in a workshop. I welcome criticism, and try to be as honest about my writing process as I can in that setting. I also enjoy discussing other people’s writing, helping them come closer to a finished product. But I recognize that their solution isn’t always the same as my solution. And if someone else’s work is over my head, I will still try to find some way to be of use to him or her – by adding notes on line structure or on the sounds of words. I don’t think anyone should walk into a writing workshop and leave empty handed. But I’m not a downer – I think positive criticism is just as important as learning your mistakes. And I would hope my fellow writers in the program would treat me the same way!

The spunky genre June 26, 2007

Came across Michael Chitwood’s introductory column in the Raleigh News & Observer today via Poetry Daily.

Some highlights:

“…When poetry is taught as former U.S. poet laureate Billy Collins has quipped by “strapping it to a chair and beating a confession out of it,” it can take all the spunk out of one of the most spunky literary genres. And apparently there are a lot of folks still walking around with a sour taste for poetry in their mouths after being part of its torture…”

“…If you aren’t reading contemporary poetry, you’re missing some of the liveliest, most entertaining and emotionally strong writing being committed today.

In many ways, poetry is the hummingbird of literature — fast, agile, full of flash and making a pleasing buzz in flight. Poetry can deliver a punch, tell a joke or capture a whole way of life in a very short space. You don’t have to be extra smart to “get” it. God knows if that were the case, I surely wouldn’t understand the stuff…”

Looking forward to more!

SNL Poetry June 24, 2007

Last night I went to the “Starbucks Poetry Connection” (queue the Muppets tune) at the Starbucks I used to work at on Providence Road. The featured readers were Jonathan Rice and L.B. (Lou) Green, followed by an open mic. I wanted to go to hear Jonathan read again, plus I was curious about the Charlotte Writer’s Club, which hosted the event.

I ran into a few familiar faces – Charles Israel and Terri Wolfe from Queens, plus a few unfamiliar faces but nice ones nonetheless. I felt a little embarrassed because a few, including miss Lou, said they had either had heard me read before or recognized me. The on-the-spot-ness also put me in an unprepared open mic reading – I didn’t bring anything but since Jonathan had a handy copy of Iodine, I was pushed to the stand for an impromptu reading of my poem, “After Solstice,” which was actually pretty timely come to think of it. 

Some other writers in the group read as well, and it was nice to hear some new voices. Most everyone fell into the same camp of writing – Southern, narrative poetry – so there wasn’t the diversity I was hoping for from a club representing the city’s writers. Plus, I wanted to see some younger faces. There were a few in the back of the room, but they left before the open mic started. I asked Charles about his experience with the group; he said it’s ok but that I might want to be particular about who I workshopped with if I joined. Jonathan wasn’t a member – he said he’s too busy. Busy has been my excuse, too. I’m not sure how much time I could dedicate to the open forum, and I’m on the fence about other influences from the group. I would rather start something up with my friend, Lindsey, who just moved back here after completing her MFA at Sarah Lawrence. But she’s busy, too, haha.

Currently Reading June 23, 2007

Mistaking the Sea for Green Fields by Ashley Capps

(a Queens undergrad & Iowa MFA grad)

& 

Madonna Magdalene by Kim Garcia

(Whom I read with at the Iodine event; she’s in the Houston MFA-PhD program)

Shelfari June 23, 2007

I’m now on Shelfari as realitywrites – look me up!

(I tried adding the widget to this page but it doesn’t work for WordPress yet.)

Literary Idol June 20, 2007

So, I’ve been soaking in all the recent buzz* among literary blogs, articles and speeches about how poetry needs to step up and become more a part of pop culture. And about 20 minutes ago, I was on my way here to write a little diddy about how we should have a reality TV show dedicated to poetry, when I decided to make a pit stop at New York Magazine’s site just to review what new articles they had up. And that’s when I came across this little piece of work: the Literary Idol.

Guuyyss, you stole my idea! (That, or I just need to get out more.)

But seriously, with the success of poetry slams on HBO, and the rise of experimental poetry combined with media such as YouTube, why can’t we have a variety show of some sort, or as others suggest, at least a radio show with live readings? I’m sure there’s a way to make one that’s not a snooze. And you really can’t deny how captivating some of these reality TV shows can be, even if you’re not interested in what’s going on.

(*Thanks to Poetry Hut for some of these links, as always.)

Personal Essay Draft #4 June 16, 2007

I was raised from the age of three by two families that lived 10 minutes apart on Signal Mountain, Tennessee. My home with my mom and stepdad was conservative and Christian, and tucked away on the rural side of the mountain. My home with my dad and stepmom was liberal and secular, and on the newer, suburban side of the mountain. My only sibling was a stepsister 2 years older than me, who oddly had the same first name – Emily. Needless to say, my identity was a little convoluted growing up.

The Bible was probably the first book I ever knew. My mother introduced me to it first through picture storybooks, then bedtime readings, and then through a stack of verses written on notecards for me to memorize. Our family attended a pentecostal Church of God, where speaking in tongues and political sermons were the norm. My sister and I were enrolled in a private Christian school when I was 12. I was comfortable with many of these things because I felt it easier to comply with whatever safety nets were set for me than to rebel. I did not party, drink or date until I was out of high school. But as a kid, I always had an idea of where I might fit into the opposite lifestyle presented through what I saw in art and literature classes, movies or books – or through the lifestyles exhibited by my older sister and my dad and stepmom.  More often, I found myself in arguments with my parents over the slightest self-expression – a strappy top, a poster on the wall, or a secular magazine. Or, on the flip side, I lacked the expected interest in social norms such as athletics, high test scores, or Girl Scouts. I was emotionally-charged and often told that I “take life too seriously.” At school, I hung out with the art and drama kids, but never really felt that I was good enough at either at those things to do it for the rest of my life. In secret, I wrote feverishly in journals about the life I wanted for myself, with the same imagination a child gives to her fairy tales. I scribbled poems about sin and redemption — things that I would have been expected of me – until I started studying more writers in my last English classes of high school. By that point, I thought I knew what good writing was and decided that what I wrote I was not it. Like most young people, I connected more with the lyrics in secular music and the freedom of fashionable expression. But there were many times where I found my life so trite and abnormal that I was frozen by it.

But in college – which I conviently picked at six hours distance from my home — I began to take shape in my unsheltered life. I took a creative writing class that introduced me to contemporary writers who wrote from a daily life I understood. I started writing my narratives in creative nonfiction, but I later found my voice in poetry – the genre I had left behind years before. I think I fell in love with poetry because it can say so much with fewer words. Poetry gave a window into other writer’s lives, or other ways of seeing the world. And I could sort out the scattered pieces of both my sheltered and unsheltered lives in poetry, without all the cluttered explanations.

The images and narratives that first showed up, and continue to show up in my poetry, trace back to my childhood and how I was raised versus my current lifestyle habits and beliefs. I am interested in the relationships of opposites, such as between the religious and secular, and the gray areas between.  I am also interested in personal exchanges of closeness and separation. I write from real life, and within that is some biography, but I do not consider myself a confessional poet. Poetry is not therapy for me, but rather a way for me to communicate and connect with a larger consciousness.

I hope that through an MFA program I can find a way to thread my poetry together into a common thesis, which may or may not have to do with the narratives I am already exploring. I wouldn’t be surprised if, given the added time an MFA gives to write and research, I began working the similar ideas covered in my personal poetic narratives into dramatic poetic narratives for another persona(s). These are the things I am looking foward to exploring in a graduate program, along with improving my overall exposure to writing.

Personal Essay Draft #3 June 16, 2007

Describe your weaknesses as a writer. 

Since I work with narrative a lot in my poetry, I can slip into the telling more than the showing mode. Sometimes I have to go back over my work and ask myself: Is this the right language for this description? Is there an image that could tell it better? I have been making a strong effort to improve my vocabulary over the past year because I feared that my poetry was getting too comfortable with common language. I still want my poetry to be terse and straightforward at times, but I also don’t want it to read like a children’s book. I need to experiment more with language, imagery and constructive styles.  I read widely, but I could use better skills in reading non-narrative poets. I am also inexperienced with formal poetry other than a sonnet here or a sestina there. I wish I was a better self critic. I really love the workshop setting, but I need to know how to make my poems complete so I can write better on my own. Sometimes I’m not sure if a poem is finished. I guess overwriting is a good strategy to begin with but it is also easy for me to stop myself with self-doubt, or rush through the drafting process because I like editing so much.

  Describe your strengths. 

Some of my smaller poems successfully condense several thoughts or images into a tight unit. I have also been told that my longer poems “push” the reader through them or to another level of thinking. I can over-analyze a situation to the point of renewal. I am a storyteller who doesn’t necessarily have to work chronologically. I’m good at braiding a single metaphor throughout an entire poem. I mostly work from real life but will use a little artistic license to better a poem. I do well at describing a transitional thought or weaving precise images together to form an idea. I often consider an idea a subject. I also take care to see how each line reads. I enjoy splicing my poems so that my words fit on the page a certain way or leave a sound in the right place. I’m not afraid to use humor in poetry.

Personal essay draft #2 June 16, 2007

What are your reading/writing habits?

I am not much of a morning person, so I typically write after work or before bed at night. I would write more in the afternoon, as I do on the weekends and as I did when I was in college, but the 9-to-5 gig kind of gets in the way. (Although I have been known to email myself a quick draft of a poem or an idea for a poem from my work computer!) And since my current schedule involves the day job plus weekly freelance work, I get to write or edit my poetry only one-or-two days a week. I have been averaging about two completed poems and four drafted poems a month since I changed jobs last January. I would like to change that average to about 6-to-8 poems a month, with several more drafts of poems to carry over each month. And I would like to be working on poetry every day, no matter what my schedule.

 * 

I write inside my apartment either on the couch or in bed. I also like to sit outside when it’s nice weather – and sometimes take my notebook to the park. I start with handwritten drafts and then finalize on my computer. Sometimes I will let poems “brew” for a while in draft form before adding more to them or editing them down.

*

In the matter of what I read, I lean toward contemporary poetry, usually narrative but not always. Contemporary poetry is the kind of poetry that made me want to write poems again in the first place. The work of Linda Pastan, Mark Strand, Mark Doty and Adrienne Rich were the types of authors I was drawn to in college, and still what I return to when introducing other people to poetry. Since I changed jobs to one that has a lighter work load, I read throughout the work day (apologies to my boss, but he hasn’t noticed). In between tasks, I peruse through numerous online literary journals and poetry archives, and other resources available online such as articles of literary criticism and interviews. I also usually pick up a novel or a creative nonfiction book during my lunch break. At home, I read from a poetry book by a single author, usually 3-4 times a week. My library includes several books by poet laureates or Pulitzer Prize winners. I also pick up books by poets I know or whom I have heard read – either visiting writers at community events or local authors. But I would like more diversity in what a read. I know there is so much more out there, and I want to learn how to read different styles of poetry better – even if it is on the opposite scale of my own writing. I also read a lot of magazines and newspaper articles that have nothing to do with poetry.

*

In the reading of poetry, I also write more. I often close a book and reach for my own notebook, and begin the freewriting process. In my current writing life, I go through several drafts before I consider the poem complete or near complete without another’s editing notes. On average, with my new job, I complete somewhere around 2-4 poems a month. Of course, with the help of a MFA program, I would like to raise that number substancially.

Personal essay draft #1* June 16, 2007

What is the reward for writing? Why do you do it? 

Writing poetry is the only thing that as I’m doing it, the “I” in me disappears. It’s me at my most humble. I stop worrying about what everyone else thinks, and lose myself in the language. Conversely, poetry is the only art form in which the true me comes through. I write because I cannot imagine not writing. And even when I’m procrastinating writing, I am thinking about writing. For the longest time in my life, I struggled with why I apply meaning to everything. I have been told that I “take life too seriously.” Poetry gave me the reason why I do this, in addition to giving me an outlet. But I don’t just write poetry to confess or to heal. It is the purest way in which I can express and connect. I don’t know why I do it other than to share it with another. In poetry, each word, character and line is weighted. In life, things probably happen much more casually, but I can’t help but see more meaning in some exchanges. I am interested in the words said and unsaid. By comparing and contrasting in my poetry what is in my life, I feel that I make some sense of it. Poetry is the collage I make from what I know.

 *

(I have studied visual art for many years. I have the technical skills to sketch and paint from real life, but I feel that my vision is always lacking in my compositions. This is not the case with poetry. With poetry, I feel at home. It isn’t some other person’s goggles I put on for a while to see how well I can see through them. I see poetry with my own eyes.)

*I should note that some of these questions I am using in this exercise come from Tom Kealey’s handbook.