We’re not gonna talk about New Year’s Resolutions – (quit
smoking at midnight, bum a cigarette off the bartender at 12:15). Plus it’s too
early anyway. You’re probably still finishing off the Halloween candy, if you
can find it. I can’t find ours (Jeff hid it somewhere).
It’s never too early to think about how you’d like to grow
as a writer. Some of the options need to be thought about since they involve
time, and/or money. They’ll need to be included in your budget for next year.
Some involve sending samples of your work. You’ll need to think about that as
you write.
Growth does not mean your voice as a writer will change.
It means getting stronger and learning new things. I can look at an old poem of
mine and know when it was written because I didn’t understand line breaks until
I workshopped with Kevin Young.
And…just because you learn something, that doesn’t mean you
have to DO it. It’s just that then you’ll have choices, where now you don’t.
Now it’s like you’re writing a poem without a thesaurus—you might not look at
it anyway, but you can’t look at all if you don’t have it. I’m a huge proponent
of choices. A couple of little things to start thinking about:
- Read anything and
everything. You’ll read words you’ve never heard before in ways you’ve never seen before. Then you might want to try it. I’ve written before about “Bluets” by Maggie Nelson. Some people are bigger fans than I will ever be, but it did give me ideas on ways to write. I wrote my Landlady series of poems after reading this book. My poet friend James E. Lewis was going
to write a collection of “green” poems.
I can look at my old work and think
“oh, that was my Erica Jong phase”, or ”that was my Diane Wakoski phase”. I
didn’t sound like them, but the words I used could have been their words. I
wanted to learn to write with more passion. I knew there was a difference in my
writing; to anyone else reading the work, it was my voice.
Free Refill
I would like a free refill on my
heart.
It is empty, a quadrant of lime
flattened against
the frozen remnants of sweet syrup
and cold calculation. Come fill me up,
why can’t you truly be of aid to
the suffering
and not just the thirsty?
Waiter come quickly!
I need a free refill, my body is
carrying
blood and water but the contents
are dead.
I smile as if in shock, the
happiness being
the absence of unhappiness but
nothing certain,
I do not trust it, and only the
sign in the window
makes me trust you.
How can we measure how much we
love?
We say the oceans are not deep
enough,
infinity is not wide enough, we
love more than all
the stars in the sky and when we
don’t love
we are a stray at a picnic begging
for a crust
of bread it is pathetic. I for one will not be pitied.
Waiter, I need that refill along
with a side
of all I remember, all I’ve lost
and, I suppose, the check.
- You may wish to form a
book club. You’ll hear four or five points of view on what you read. And it doesn’t just have to be books of poetry or fiction, it could be the current Poets and Writers or the current Cholla Needles. Getting together to read someone else’s work will get you comfortable reading out loud. If you’ve never read at an open mic, this will give you practice. As you meet, you’ll develop a level of trust and knowledge about the other participants. Maybe it will grow it into a networking group where you look
at your own poems. The people who just say what they feel no matter how
harsh will have to learn how to be more diplomatic; that’s a skill you
should have before you go to a workshop so it would be a win-win to have a
group.
One time I was at a class and there
was a guy in there whose poems were horrible!!! Oh my goodness they were
the worst things I’d ever read. When it came time for me to talk, what did I say
to him? “you certainly have a consistent voice”. That was true. Let the
teacher, or the workshop leader say the hard stuff, if they want. There’s no
reason for another participant to cut anyone’s legs off at the knees. And you
know what? Just because I hated his work, that doesn’t mean someone else
wouldn’t have liked it. Being in a networking group will help you practice that
it’s not about you, and it’s not about your ego. They will find their niche, or
they will be rejected. Just my opinion. I’ve heard some workshops are brutal.
They will never get a dime of my money—I don’t want to be like that.
These are two of many things that will help you grow as a
writer. Over the next weeks, we’ll talk about workshops, extension classes,
privately run classes, even voice lessons…NONE of these are to make you write
different. They’re to help you write and read better.
2:39 a.m.
Lying in
bed. I Can’t Sleep. Apparently, I still haven’t Live
& Learned enough.
The window is
open. It’s me and the crickets, and my thoughts that fill the night. And a
passing car in the distance.
8 years ago today,
well, not exactly today, but close enough, this blog was born.
This comment
coming from a thoughtful (very), quiet (very), semi-anonymous Follower.
“Tethered by
community. Tethered by the community you have created with your posts.”
And then the
soft ah-ha.
Tethered to
Nothing?
No.
Tethered to you.
All of you.
And grateful…
Have the very best week xo
- - - -
Tobi Alfier's most recent collection of poetry is Slices Of Alice. She is also co-editor with Jeff Alfier of the San Pedro River Review. Don't miss Tobi's columns on the craft of poetry: insert your email address in the "Follow By Email" box to the right of this article and you'll be notified every time a new article appears.
