Trade-Off: A Poetic Discovery

I know, I know, I’m not supposed to blog until Thursday! But this was just too fun to let go or forget. Let me start by saying that the Poem-a-day project has not been going well. Oh, I’ve been doing it all right, every single day of the new year. It’s just that none of them have been any good. Like, at all. I’m not even sure I can salvage these roughest of rough drafts. Yesterday, for instance, what started as a prose poem ended up filling almost the entire page and was pretty much just prose. I can edit it, sure, and I plan on it, because I know there’s something in there. But have you ever looked at the drafts for Elizabeth Bishop’s “One Art”? It’s gonna be worse than that.

So today I was once again facing midnight without an idea for a poem. I mulled over various snippets of ideas, thinking of anything that was on my mind: work, my story, the cat, the show on Food Network I was watching. Nothing was sparking my creativity. In fact, I rarely find myself able to write poetry. I started thinking that it was almost like I couldn’t have it both ways. I can’t have fiction and poetry, at least not at the same time. Just like how I had given up fiction in my sophomore year of college, when I claimed it again (or it claimed me, rather) I had to give up the poetry. I know it’s not completely true, I have written some poetry since last February, but it’s not like it used to be.

Then I had the “aha” moment. That’s what my poem should be about. So I started scribbling. As the words flew from the pen, a line stuck in my head. I had written “the burn of poetry.” It sounded familiar. Hadn’t I written a similar line before? I browsed through the names of older poems saved on my computer, and one stood out in my memory—a poem called “Rock” that was written for a junior year poetry workshop. I searched for the line and found myself reading the encompassing stanza over and over again:

                        I’m not the same anymore.

                        I cannot dream up a thousand worlds,

                        struggling to be a novelist.

                        You’ve burned me into poetry.

Wow. When I wrote those words, the feeling was so true to me. And now I’ve done a complete one-eighty back into fiction, back into my dream worlds.

I kept writing my poem, thinking it would go on down the page, expressing my newfound devotion to fiction and the passion it has ignited in me. But as I ended the second stanza, I did something that I normally never do. I stopped. Usually I try to beat my readers over the head with my poems. But this poem seemed to complete itself before I could muddy it with too many flowery words. It was short and concise and, for a first draft, perfect. There will be some edits in the future, I’m sure, but for now just having written a poem that I like is immensely satisfying.

As of now, the poem is untitled. But I’m thinking something brief, something that won’t overdo it. Maybe just “Fiction.”

                        You never told me

                        what I had to give up just to

                        keep you. It’s as though

                        I can’t have it both ways,

                        can’t feel the burn of poetry

                        in my soul, can’t be myself

                        because every second is spent

                        trying to be you.

                        Would I trade it?

                        Ask me instead to remove

                        an arm. The result would be

                        preferable.

Resolutions

Well, it’s that time of year again. The time for delusions. For some reason, we equate the new year with new beginnings, new opportunities. But for the most part, these resolutions don’t last very long at all. I’m certainly no stranger to this. And along with your stereotypical goals like losing weight or cleaning the apartment (which I am halfheartedly, at best, considering), my major resolutions all revolve around my writing life in some way. 

Here goes…

1. Blog every Thursday. First and foremost, the most important thing is to keep up with this blog. I haven’t been very good at it so far. And because in the past I’ve mostly blogged on Thursdays, I’m going to keep up with this trend. Part of my strategy is to plan out four blogs at the beginning of each month and get started writing them early. Procrastination is usually my biggest issue, letting the days go by and then Thursday comes without time or energy or a worthy idea. If I already have the ideas ready to go, then things should go much more smoothly from here on out.
2. Tweet, tweet, tweet. When I started my Twitter account, it was mostly to follow my favorite celebrities, mainly the (almost!) entire cast of Criminal Minds. When I started planning my literary life, a friend told me that I should be tweeting at least five times a day. So that is my goal in the New Year. Whether it be about my writing accomplishments, witty observations, or nonsensical ramblings, I vow to tweet five times EVERY day.
3. The Poem-a-Day Project. This one has been attempted several times before, but with such a concrete starting point, I feel like it will be easier to accomplish. It’s pretty simple: write a poem every day. It doesn’t have to be perfect or even good; it just has to be down on the paper.
4. 100 Books, 100 Movies: I foolishly make this a goal every year, to read 100 books and see 100 movies throughout the course of the year. I have not once accomplished this despite several attempts. I feel this is important because you can be influenced by whatever it is that you are watching or reading. So again I will take on this task. The movies must all be ones I’ve never seen, but books can include rereads (mostly because I’m a rather slow reader and I would have to count for all that time spent).
5. Get published. I don’t quite have a concrete schedule or outline for this one yet. I plan on spending the first couple of months doing extensive research on literary magazines—which ones are more accepting of new writers, which poems and stories will fit with what magazine. Then after figuring out where to send everything, it’s time to submit, submit, submit. I want my computer file of cover letters to be bigger than the one containing the scenes for my novel.

And that’s it. I know what you’re thinking. My resolution should be something like, finish my novel, or write a chapter a week. Something like that, right? Trust me, I know I won’t be able to keep up with something like that. It’s just something that I can’t push, and having these smaller resolutions seems much more practical to me.

With the exception of blogging every Thursday, I also plan on checking in with my other resolutions from time to time, possibly once a month, just to track my progress. Also, click here to see my planned reading list for the year, only 43 books long so far. Yikes!