Ingrid Wendt on Salvaging Lines

Ingrid Wendt provided the craft tip in the January issue of my monthly Poetry Newsletter. I am happy that she has agreed to be guest blogger here so that I can now offer my blog readers her tip with the addition of a sample poem and a prompt based on her tip.

Ingrid Wendt is the author of five full-length books of poems, one chapbook, two anthologies, a book-length teaching guide, and numerous articles and reviews. A Poetry Consultant with the National Council of Teachers of English, she is a popular keynote speaker as well as a poet and teacher of poetry for more than 30 years. Her honors include the Oregon Book Award, the 2004 Editions Prize from WordTech Editions, the 2003 Yellowglen Award from Word Press, the Carolyn Kizer Award, several Pushcart nominations, an Oregon Literary Arts Fellowship, and the D.H. Lawrence Award. Visit "The Writer’s Almanac" to hear Garrison Keillor read two of her poems.

Saving the Savory

“Letting go” is not, and never has been, something I do easily. Downsizing, three years ago, from a 1900 square foot house to just over 1000 sq. ft., nearly did me in. When it comes to poetry, though, I’ve somehow managed to accept—most of the time—the fact that crafting a diamond out of the rough draft of a poem often means leaving out certain gorgeous lines, or wonderful words, or stunning metaphors, or brilliant images, that do (sigh) overburden the poem and so must be cut. Cut. Cut. Cut. Isn’t that what we always hear from writing instructors, ourselves (sometimes) included?

But need these words be wasted? Thrown out, never to be seen again? Good news, all you who hate to toss: you can “re-purpose” at least some of these words. And, oh happiness, some day you might use them again; they might even get you out of a jam.

Here’s my system. Outmoded though it may be, in today’s digital age, the old-fashioned loose-leaf binder still serves as a place to keep those gems of words / lines / images / ideas I’ve reluctantly tossed out. Prominent among the spines of books shelved next to the thesaurus, rhyming dictionary, and other reference books I keep above my desk, this special binder’s front pages (ahead of entire first drafts of poems “to return to some day”) bear the headings “lines saved,” “lines for future poems,” “favorite  words,” “good rhymes,” “images I like.” Etc.

What good can this do? Here are two examples.

1) More than half-way through a rough draft of “On the Nature of Touch,” which appears in my newest book, Evensong, I got stuck. Drew a total blank. Went to the notebook, leafed through it for a bit, and found an image–hair dye stains on the downstairs hall carpet like stones Hansel tossed to find the way home–which had come to me during a workshop on metaphor I’d taught several years before. Whoopie! That worked! I was off and writing again.

2) Another poem from Evensong, “Silence,” is a Cento: technically, a poem made entirely of lines cut from other poems. In my case, “Silence” is made of lines from several different notebook pages, not even close to each other, which I didn’t realize resonated with each other and belonged together till I looked at them again in a moment of stress: feeling totally dry and unable to complete the assignment I’d just given students at a retreat. Was this cheating? I did feel a bit guilty, at first. But still, the words were mine, and putting them together anew made a poem I could be happy with.

Silence

           After a painting by Odilon Redon, 1911

Caught at last in this brown caution,
this wake of sound beyond the known
alphabet, where is our refuge?

Frame of forgetting.
Frame of remembering.
Floor of a faith forever gone.

Steps we've taken, those footprints
are in us forever.  Listen.
All those words we never will say, echoing.


These lists don’t, of course, consist entirely of lines cut out of other poems. Sometimes I’ll be doing the dishes or talking or listening to music, and I’ll hear myself thinking a line that needs to be in a poem. Sometimes I think a poet is someone who doesn’t think such terribly different thoughts from everyone else; it’s just that we poets catch ourselves thinking them, and recognize their potential. So, if and when I can find some paper, I write them down.

Just to get the hang of it, try a Cento of your own, with someone else’s words (at first). Pull out one of your favorite books of poems. Make a list of some of your favorite lines from some of your favorite poems in this book. Or make a similar list of favorite lines by this and other favorite poets. The words need not even be complete lines: just a phrase or word cluster will do. After amassing 10-15 or more of these lines, choose six or eight lines or groups of words that somehow could go together. Your word processor is terrific for moving them around on the screen. Or print the page and take a scissors to the list.  Move the many smaller pieces of paper around, stick in a few connective words, if you must, or more than a few. Now take look at some of your own discarded rough drafts of poems (if you, like I, have kept them somewhere, maybe in the garage). Dust them off, pick out the grains of wheat from the chaff. See what happens when you give them even a little bit of water and earth and sun!

I Account for Myself

 Following Lisa Romeo's lead, instead of compiling a list of goals for 2012, I'm reflecting on the accomplishments of 2011. My reflections are limited to my poetry life.

Taking care of my own work:

For the past two years I gave myself the goal of spending time writing three mornings a week. I never seemed to meet that goal and thus had the feeling of being a non-productive slug. Some months ago I lowered my standard to two mornings a week. I'm happy to say that I've not only met my goal of two sessions per week, I've exceeded it. Perhaps lowering the goal took the pressure off and gave me more freedom? Anyhow, my productivity has increased. As I add new poems to my desktop folder, I can see that the list is getting plump. And I only add the ones I'm interested in sending out. The losers and the undones stay in the Ramblings folder. That, of course, is the thicker folder.

I didn't send out submissions as routinely this past year as I used to—post-book drag, I think, and the need to generate new work—but several weeks ago, probably because the folder was getting fuller, I went on a submission rampage and now have a number of submissions out. That feels good. I like the possibility each day of getting interesting mail.

I've done a number of readings, including one that took me to New Hampshire for two days. I've cut back on doing poetry-in-the-schools as I found it was really draining my energy. Just doing freelance visits so I can stipulate no more than 3 classes per day. Protecting my energy level.

Supporting other poets:

I have continued buying as many books by other poets as I can afford. If someone reviews my book, I buy that person's book. I usually try to write an Amazon review or in some way return the kindness of a review. If someone buys my book and lets me know about it, I try to return the favor when that person has a new book.

I have continued to use my blog and my Poetry Newsletter to spread the word about poetry and poets. I deeply believe in the poetry community and our mutual need to support and assist each other. I have featured a number of poets at my blog and always do a book recommendation in the newsletter and invite a poet to offer a craft tip. These poets seem to get some book sales and new fans as a result. I am really proud of the Newsletter and how it has taken off. Each month I pick up a bunch of new subscribers. They come from all over the world. Both activities are stimulating and fun, don't require new clothes and don't make me report to an office.

I organized two poetry events last year—"Girl Talk" for the third year and "Poetry Festival: A Celebration of Literary Journals" for the eighth year. Both events are scheduled again for this year. I also hosted two readings at my husband's restaurant—one for the journal Adanna and the other for the journal Tiferet.

I served as Guest Editor for the inaugural issue of Adanna, judged a chapbook contest for Wisconsin poets, and was again a reader for a book contest.

At the same time I am putting down my foot about supporting people who haven't supported my work. Don't ask me to buy, blurb, or review your book if you haven't at least bought and read my latest book. I mean, really, it's just a matter of fairness, isn't it? And please, if you haven't supported my work, don't ask me to pre-order and pay for your forthcoming book or chapbook so you can get a good print run. I mean, really. I'm somewhat low-key about pushing my books, but fair is fair. This is me protecting my time and energy (and my wallet). Crabby, yes, but necessary.

Taking it outside of the poetry community:

One of my favorite things to do is to bring poetry to an audience that doesn't typically attend readings. I recently read for the University Women of West Essex at their fall luncheon. I talked and read about how poetry reflects the lives of women. It was one of my favorite readings. They fed me, bought books, and paid me which was really cool as I'd thought I was doing the reading pro bono; thus, I felt like a generous soul and fattened my wallet at the same time.

I have another such reading scheduled for a group of seniors, also not a poetry group, and am looking forward to that.

Looking forward:

I desperately need a day of poetry with a group of like-minded poets. I want the stimulation of us giving each other prompts all day, one after the other. I should make this happen.

Feeding Ourselves with Food and Poetry

 I had a really nice holiday. The tree was pretty. One son was here for the full week. We had good food, often joined by our other two kids. My daughter did Christmas dinner for eleven and really outdid herself. A beautiful pork tenderloin, herb-encrusted, with a tasty but subtle gravy. Sweet potato dish, fantastic stuffing made with Italian bread, shallots, and dried cranberries. My brother and sister-in-law were up from North Carolina and contributed a yummy salad. I contributed a broccoli casserole and my best dessert, Boccone Dolce. It was completely devoured.

We even had a baby with us this year as my nephew and his wife joined us with 7-month old Jake who is adorable and exceedingly sweet. He just enjoyed our company and never made any noise other than some gurgling.

One of my gifts was the 2011 Microsoft Ofice which I loaded onto my computer yesterday. Now I need to learn the differences between the new and the old. And get back to my writing schedule. I've been working on revisions and have done some submissions. Now it's time to generate some new work.

If you haven't already subscribed to my monthly Poetry Newsletter, this would be a good time to do so. The next issue will go out on January 1, just in time to start off the new year. If you need some inspiration—and who doesn't?—you'll find a poem and prompt, a book recommendation, some links to writing-related sites, a poetry-related video, and a Craft Tip. This month's tip will come from poet Ingrid Wendt. Ingrid offers some great ideas on how to use discarded lines, you know, the ones you loved but had to admit weren't working in their poems, or the ones that were the only good parts of failed poems. If interested, use the sign-up form in the right-hand sidebar.

Or Go Here to sign up. Once you sign up, be sure to hit the confirm link.

Happy New Year, Everyone, and may your year be filled with poetry.

Yes, Virginia

Each Christmas I like to revisit the following essay from the The Sun. My grandmother read it to me many years ago. I've always remembered it. If you don't already know this piece, I hope you'll enjoy it. I also hope you'll have a Merry Christmas if that's what you're celebrating. And I hope you'll have a wonderful New Year. Thank you for being a Blogalicious reader. And a special thank-you to all who have supported my poetry this past year.

Eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York's The Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial September 21, 1897. The work of veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church has since become history's most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps.

Here's Virginia's letter:

"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old.
"Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
"Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'
"Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?

"VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
"115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET."

Here's the reply:

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except what they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Revision in The Poetry Gymnasium

Click Cover for Amazon

I am not quite finished with this book, but I want to mention it now in case some of you might be interested in getting it as a holiday gift. This craft book would be a perfect gift for any poets you know who are looking for instruction and stimulation. Perhaps you yourself are just such a poet? Then treat yourself.

The book seems a bit pricey at $35, but it's a textbook so is priced as such. That doesn't mean, however, that you can't use it outside of the classroom. If you're a teacher looking for a good poetry textbook, this could be the very one. If you're a poet working on your own but hoping to expand your knowledge, this book really does contain the classroom.

If you keep in mind that Hunley offers 94 exercises, then the price does not seem so high. But there's more, much more. Each exercise is preceded by a rationale and some background (tons of information here) and then followed by model poems.

I found Hunley's revision strategies particularly interesting and exciting. I recalled and looked up Kim Addonizio's words about revision in Ordinary Genius: "If you don't think your work needs revision, here's a tip: Don't try to be a poet. You will never—and I mean never—be any good." Firm, but true. She goes on to say: "If you take your art seriously, you will write the poem again and again until you get it right, or as close to right as you can make it. Revision separates the professionals from the amateurs and the wannabes."

Sometimes, of course, that's easier said than done. You have the poem in front of you, ten drafts in. You know you've got something worth working on, but you're not sure what to do at this point. On page 52, Hunley provides a list of four suggestions. I immediately embraced the first and put it to use on two poems I'd been wrestling. Here's the suggestion for revision:

Reread some of your text. Along the way, collect five words or phrases from your text and freewrite on each word. Let the word or phrase take you anywhere. See if any of this new material helps you open up the draft; can you insert the new material at the point you find the original word or phrase? Somewhere else?I found this strategy very helpful in opening up the poem and forcing me into new thinking and material. I then incorporated some of the new stuff into the draft. To the poem's advantage, I think. Then, of course, some cutting was necessary. (I confess to not doing this with all five words or phrases. I revised the suggestion a bit.)

I think you'll also find much in this book to stimulate your own work.

Just in Time for the Holidays

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I'm happy to have a poem in this new anthology, The Best of the Barefoot Muse, published by Barefoot Muse Press. Editor and publisher Anna Evans has gathered together sixty poems from over fifty poets, all of whom had their poems selected from Evans' online journal, The Barefoot Muse, which for five years published formal and metrical poetry. The collection includes contemporary examples of the sonnet, villanelle, triolet, and sestina as well as more unusual forms such as the ghazal and the fib and many poems in structures of the poet's own devising.

I'm represented by the poem, "Love Test: A Ghazal." Here's a list of all the poets:

Mike Alexander    Tiel Aisha Ansari    Peter Austin    Michael Battram    Kendall A. Bell    Kate Bernadette Benedict    Kim Bridgford    Chris Bullard     Michael Cantor     Catherine Chandler     Edmund Conti     Maryann Corbett     Robert W. Crawford     Erica Dawson     Frank De Canio     Jehanne Dubrow     Robert Klein Engler    Julie R. Enszer    Annie Finch    Carol Frith    Ona Gritz    Lois Marie Harrod    Penny Harter    Paul Hostovsky    Juleigh Howard-Hobson    A.M. Juster    T.S. Kerrigan    Deborah Kreuze    David W. Landrum    Quincy R. Lehr    J. Patrick Lewis    Diane Lockward    Austin MacRae    Laura Maffei    James Scannell McCormick    Susan McLean    Rick Mullin    Bruce W. Niedt    Eric Norris    Amber Norwood    Chris O'Carroll    Frank Osen    Aaron Poochigian    Ray Pospisil    Jennifer Reeser    David J. Rothman    Marybeth Rua-Larsen    E. Shaun Russell    Paul Christian Stevens    Clay Stockton    Peter Swanson    Gail White    James S. Wilk

The collection is now available at Amazon, just in time for a wonderful holiday gift. In fact, what could be a better gift than a book of poetry? This one is very reasonably priced at $10.95.

New Chapbook Now Available

At last! This new chapbook has been published. I say "at last" as it's been well over a year since I was first invited to participate in this series. Although I was told then that the chapbook would be available for that year's AWP, which would have been 2011, that simply did not happen. Apparently, there were some problems that caused delays. In fact, the delays went on so long that I had pretty much concluded that the chapbook just wasn't going to happen.

But happen it did. The original publisher, Pudding House Publications, sold the series to Kattywompus Press. Once the new publisher took over my manuscript, the process moved along at a brisk pace. So I went from thinking it wouldn't happen to a box of 20 copies on my doorstep.

This collection consists of 12 poems, the ones deemed my "greatest hits." Selection was challenging, but I think I have a good variety and all three of my full-length books are represented. The collection begins with an essay detailing the history of the poems. I could provide a list of the poems here, but I'm not going to. I'll leave it to you to guess. Then if and when you get the chapbook, you can see if you were right. Make a game of it!