Labor Day Weekend DIY Writing Retreat

Starting this afternoon I am dog sitting for a family member and starting a Labor Day Weekend Mini Writing Retreat. I have reading material and essential writing material all ready. I want to focus hard on cranking out some new poetry. 

A few of the books I'm taking along...

• Creative Journal Writing - Stephen Dowrick 
• Stones of the Sky  - Pablo Neruda  / James Nolan Translated
• The Children's War and other poems -Shaindel Beers
• Trauma Mouth - Jessica Smith
• The Art of recklessness - Dean Young
• Hourglass Museum - Kelli Russell Agodon
• The Routledge Companion to Experimental Literature

I hope to be able to report this was a success come Monday night.

The Poet Prism

Always a poet, always searching in wonder.  To me, some things can only be seen through the prism of a poet's mind.

 

Its seems to me that much of my life has been an internal dialogue which in the past twenty years has manifested itself in written word. The Welsh poet R.S. Thomas has remarked that "All people talk to themselves. Some are overheard, and they are the poets." I suppose this is so, and I was trapped in this path long ago.

 

Maybe there are more people that are on the cusp of becoming poets and don't quite realize it. I've always felt that there are people I know that express disdain for poetry and yet I feel they don't really know what it is they don't like. It's more of a idea that they are arguing with themselves over they any concrete purpose. They just haven't quite figured out how or to whom to express it. If they did, maybe they world cross over the line and become one of us. 



Talking to Poems

So it's Friday night and what are you doing?

Me, I'm transitioning from Diet Coke to Chardonnay.  I've been working for several hours on a poem and our conversation had grown old and tiring so I've stopped for now.

Do you talk to your poems? Ok, more specifically your poems in progress. Drafts. First drafts, second drafts, twenty third drafts?

My conversation with this evening's poem-in-making has started out asking  a single line where it would like to go. It said take me to the other side of what you just said. So I said ok and abridged. I asked what will we do after we've contradicted our opening line. I go no response. (sipping wine) I don't know about you but when I ask a direct question of a poem-in-making I expect at least that it will clear it's throat and appear to be thinking of a reply. I was about to repeat the question when it said you assume too much.

I'm not sure how I feel about a poem - especially one in the making assuming it knows what I'm assuming. I thought it important at this point to make it clear that I had no preconceived notions about where this poem was going. It quickly shot back, "Good!"

I studied my words on the page.  Flipped a stanza. Cut some words. Another "Good" arose from the page. "You approve then?" I asked. I was told yes, but for the time being. I thought about moving the opening line to another location in the poem. Cautiously I was told that was worth considering, but encouraged to consider too making the opening line the title of the poem instead. I said I'd keep that in mind.

My head is spinning at this point and I suggested that I really thought it might me time to step back and let this all rest upon the page a while. Maybe overnight. There was a sigh...  "No offense, but working with you can be tiring."  I responded, "Oh, you think so?" and I saved the work in progress.

The Planning Poet

Friday and Saturday I did some writing and was pleased with the progress. Tonight I've taken another route. Tonight I'm the Planning Poet. I've spent time scouring the various venues for publication with concentration on submissions for the next 90 days. I'm identifying who I want to submit to and matching my calendar with their reading periods.

One thing I'm being is realistic. I'm not trying to send work to 10 places in one weekend. First, I want to be able to stay on a steady work schedule. The last thing I want to do is set myself up for failure from the start.

Knowing at the beginning of one week what publication I am focusing on that coming weekend allows me time for quality forethought to each submission package.

I've gone crazy cranking out submissions in the past like all in one weekend and they instantly cold for months. It's no secret, I said it many times before, I dislike the process of submitting work. Still, I'm well aware that it's all part of the process. Unless I'm just going to write and throw all my work in a trunk and forget about it, then I need to get real about my commitment to the whole process.

By the end of May, I'll let you know how this is all working out for me.

I Need A Cup Of Mania

The best laid plans for my day have been misplaced. So have a couple of older poems on my laptop.  I'm thinking ahead, I just wish I had started doing so before 10:00 AM. I'm convinced our cat Evie would have liked a shot at me earlier. She's a sweet thing if you just accept the fact that she is in control.

Looking to pull together some poetry to submit. It's a bit hard to believe that I've had replies to every one of my submissions I've made. I never like to be without something outstanding. I'm referring to the word like you would a check that hasn't been cashed yet not the quality of the work, but outstanding work is good too. And that word check, I suppose that could be foreign to you. It seems to be going the way of things like typewriters, carbon paper, phone booths... I could go on but then I'd just have more to explain.

My Duotrope control panel tells me that I have an acceptance ratio of 8.1% and congratulates me and says that is higher the the average of users that have submitted material to the same markets. That's also sad. (I've added the last part)

It's actually not quite that late- but it seems like it should be. Time haunts me. It always has. I was a blue baby when I was born. A preemie not a smurf.  So obviously I came out of the gate early, not exactly galloping but starting ahead of time. I never thought of it till now but you might say that I was cheating.

There is Evis, her deep meow and footsteps. She could be warning me but I'm not retreating to another room just yet.

I do need to get on with things. I can't continue with nothing under consideration. I've got to stuff to send out again and I've been looking at venues trying to decide what might be a best choice for each pieces.  It's a task I dislike but as long as I keep writing - I have to keep sending.

Sylvia Plath 80 years later-

Today is the birthday of Sylvia Plath. Plath is perhaps one of the first poet that caught my attention in such a way to interest me in poetry as an avocation. There were poets who I found interesting prior to Plath (Frost for example comes to my mind) but it was Plath that first really spoke to me about the power of language in such a way that I wanted to experience first hand that rich trans-formative process that occurs when one's mind and soul battle in an inner discourse to find the right words for the page.

Ted Hughes once said (and I'm paraphrasing here) that he believes she never failed to finish a poem. She may have started with one idea and ended up somewhere else entirely (who hasn't) but she was seriously driven to by her writing. From biographies and her own journals I know that she was constantly alert to the world around her for - looking for material for her next poem.  I believe this was very much a part of her brilliance. I would say that she lived a poet's life; always a poet in the moment. I believe this is one positive  lesson that writers can take from Sylvia's life.

Summer of Discontent?

Will I look back on the summer as the summer of discontent? The heat, the lack of rain, a time when the leadership (with a small l) in our nation's capital was largely dysfunctional. And then there is the Aurora, Colorado mass shooting.

It's a summer when I've lowered my comfort standards by increasing what I consider to be a palatable temperature.  As for the disappointing circus in Washington, D.C., I refuse to lower my standards.

I've tried to find the good in things this summer and that's not always been easy. In people too. I try giving grouchy people a bit of a break because given the heat I figure we've all had some days in which our own irritability seemed to take over. Actually, I've found in many instances it's not quite so easy to find reason to get upset with others and this is a good thing. I'm not professing to be perfect at it but I'm vastly improved in this area and that makes me a happier person.

I've also been in search of the art in life. I keep telling myself there is art everywhere if we look hard enough. It means finding a different view of things so that you see some other meaningful aspect what might otherwise seem normal.  I like to find art in the randomness of things. If I can find art in the everyday then how much easier to find poetry in the split open bagel or the uneven seem of a concrete walkway.

This summer is not over and maybe I'm being too judgmental trying to chalk it all up to the negatives. Like the water over the rock slabs above there is movement. Things are happening and the year is in motion as well. I'm ready for some surprising good news, good things and feeling good.

I hope others are looking for art in their own day to day world. After all, art is for everyone. Art is for the masses and for all time.
 

Celebrating 38 Years of Marriage

Before I retire for the night I feel compelled to say a few words about the number thirty-eight. Poets normally deal with words but at the moment it's the number thirty-eight that pretty much sums it up.

It was thirty-eight years ago on the 22nd of June, that my wife Cathy and I were married.  We dated for three years prior so really our lives have been entwined for essentially 4 decades. No one lives 4 decades without trials and tribulations and we have had ours; but I cannot think of having gone through my life without the partner I've been privileged to have by my side.

Through numerous endeavors over these years I have been blessed by her support, her faith in me, and her gentle encouragement at times when I have needed it the most.  I'm not an easy person (I'm a poet for God's sake) at times. She has tolerated the many flavors of idiosyncrasy that I tend to embrace. Overlooking faults and bring out and celebrating the best in me at times when I have trouble seeing the best myself.

~0~

Love you Cath!!  Looking back all these years later I might have done a lot of things with my life different, but not you. I would do this all over. Here's to a long life together!



Follow the bouncing ball...

I did...  I followed it to Target tonight.  This is one of two large balls outside one of the entrances of the Target Store. I chose to post the picture because this is a part of exercising my creative muscles.  Let me explain...

I've come to the realization that my creativity has suffered in recent weeks. Hell it's probably been stalled for over a month if truth be known and I decided it was up to me to do something about it. Of course this requires me to chart some kind of proactive plan.

In the car this morning I asked myself what I needed to improve my writing - I mean besides actually taking the time to write.  If my self-evaluation of my past few weeks has been that my poetry has been too little and less then satisfying, then perhaps my problem is like artistic atrophy. I think it is safe to say that I do feel my poetic strengths have been weakened and are feeling pretty light weight. So I decided I needed to start a creative exercise program.

My drive into the city then became a workout. I decided to pay special attention to things I encountered on the drive and think about them not simply what these things were - but how I saw them. The TV tower was not just a tall steel structure but as it poked through the clouds it was a portal into the heavens. So throughout the day, I've tried to be mindful of things around me and my exercise of the cerebral muscles was to see them in a new light.

My initial day of flexing my imagination went well. But like any exercise program the results don't come overnight. I'm going to follow the bouncing ball each day and see where the poetry takes me. Wish me luck!

Mixed Bag - Wednesday

Ouch!  I realized today that I plum missed Confession Tuesday.  On the upside, I took time out of work during my lunchour to make Ash Wednesday Mass so maybe I can have special dispensation.... Please!

Received a rejection letter from Rattle today but I won a poetry book, Dreaming in Darkness Jessica Kristie. Anxious to to read this book. Always love to be exposed to new poetry. I get a real rush from it.

Finally Friday

It's finally Friday. Yeah!

A bit of an oddity to report - I went nearly two weeks without a Diet Coke but alas I had one last night. That's a really long time for me to abstain. It is a legitimate food group in my book.

Lot of ups and downs this week, and there is nothing metaphorical about that comment. Some grueling work days and some good stuff too. There was Valenine's Day.  That evening - well, after midnight our time we got a call from our youngest daughter Meghan. To set the stage you need to realize that clear back to her high school days Meghan would always stop if she reallized it was 11:11  be it AM or PM and say, "11:11 Make a Wish."   So a 11:11PM (her time) she is awaken by Brandon who tells her it's 11:11 and to make a wish.  (I picture her as perhaps a we bit foggy as she is waking up...  anyway, I'm sure her eyes popped wide open as he presented her with an engagement ring. How freek'n romantic is that! The guy has class.

I'm reading tonight at an open mic. I have no read in a while. I used to read publicly fairly frequently but not so much these days. Having been under the weather off and on these past three months - at times with incessent coughing, I'm a little nervous about tonight.  I've been beter these past few days but even yesterday as I was ingagued in a lenthly meeting with a cliant my throat became a little horse and I was fighting back coughing sperts.

A mail bag note for the week:  On Wednesday I received a cool Valentine from Kelli Agodon...  The poet Pablo Neruda on the front... it was a cool picture and of course what poet would better represent the best of Valentine's day. Thank you Kell!

That's it for this morning... wish me good luck tonight!

Confession Tuesday - Valentine Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been a week since my last confession. Actually 6 days if I'm going to be totally honest.

It's Valentine’s Day and I stayed especially busy at work. Shouldn't Valentine’s Day be a holiday? A paid day off? Of course it should... I know you must agree.

My wife and I did not do cards today. She has really become kind of negative on buying cards. I gave serious thought to writing a special poem for the occasion but my work on it the past week did not impress me and I could not expect it to be received by her any better so I scraped my various drafts. I will work on it again in the future when I am less pressured by time.

I confess that it was while on the way to work this morning and bummed out that I had not satisfied my original plan that another thought came to my mind. I dropped my wife off at her office and proceeded to my own. That was during the 7am hour. I decided to text my wife with a short note as to something I loved about her. And then sometime each of the next hours until 5pm I repeated another text with another love proclamation of some type. Several hours into the day I received a text saying, "you're too sweet."

I confess that a couple of the texts she found amusing. There was some light heartedness - it was not all serious stuff. Not bad for a Capricorn huh?

Nothing New

"Most of my life was spent not understanding, and I can assure you it was not easy."  ~ Rilke

Superbowl Sunday and I have no desire to watch this years game. The puppy bowl is no alternative because once you've seen it - you've see all there is - ad nauseum.  What I could go for is simply a special feed of the Super Bowl commercials back-to back. 

Yes, I sound a little cranky.  I'm cranky for a number of reasons of which one is the fact that for the third time since Thanksgiving, I'm sick. Three times in three months!  Who is responsable for inflicting these germs upon me? I'm ready to turn my body over the Dr. House knowing full well he'll make me sincker before I get better... but then I will have the answer.  Calling Dr. House!  Calling Dr. House!

"Patients sometimes get better. You have no idea why, but unless you give a reason they won't pay you. Anybody notice if there's a full moon? ... let's rule out the lunar god and go from there." [citation]

I'm not a person who does sick well (in case you haven't noticed) and my family knows that once I get down, it means really not feeling well because I'm the kind of person who fights it. All the time the body signs are screaming "your sick," my matra is the repeat, "you are not sick, you are not getting sick, you will not be sick..."  I suppose you could argue that there is a degree of deleriam associated with my view of the surrounding facts. 

So here I am, tired of lying around this weekend - caughing till my chest and head are sore. Feeling closed in.  Knowing that what I want to do is throw the windows open and let some air (albeit cold) throughout the house.  I want to do something besides look at the ceiling from the bed and I certainly don't waqnt to watch the Super Bowl OR the pupy bowl tape loop - both of which make my stomach turn. Yes, I know the puppies can be cute. but it isn't long before it's like reading principally the same poem written by six different people. There is nothing new. 

Confession Tuesday - the Late Edition

Dear Reader:  I put the trash on the curb this morning and therefore I know I missed the first Confession Tuesday of the New Year.  As a result, here I stand humbled by my lapse but ready to make amends.

I confess that I usually write the old year on things for weeks into the New Year but have not done so once yet. Do you think this is a sign I was so ready to be done with 2011?  I may be off on my days (Monday seemed like Sunday since we had it off therefor today should be Tuesday but Thank God It’s Not!) but I do know this is a whole different year!

I confess that I have my sights on publication in a specific Journal this year. I won’t divulge which one… Actually I have several in mind, but one in particular that I’d like to see my work in and no; its initials are not N.Y.  What I have my sights set on would be a big step for me but not that big!  I am realistic if nothing else.

I confess my Iowa GOP predictions were slightly off last night. I anticipated Ron Paul winning by a squeaker when in fact he was 3rd by a squeaker.  I also told one of my associates I didn’t expect the GOP turnout to be any higher then 4 years ago.  Again, wrong.  They were slightly ahead of 4 years ago in terms of participants. Still, it was no the massive turn out that many suggested.   I confess that all my direct Iowa political experience is on the Democratic side and that as far as the Republicans are concerned it has only been as a keen observer.

I’m not real big on New Year Resolutions because I kind of feel they are doomed to failure from the start.  I’ve got a few goals for the year and that is how I refer to them. I confess this makes them seem manageable. I do think the New Year affords us magnificent opportunity annually.  It’s like opening day in baseball. The clock is reset and everyone (theoretically) is on par. For one day everyone is tied for first place regardless of advantages, payroll or handicaps and the race begins. It even smells fresh – like the cut grass on the field.  I always have felt baseball, life and poetry are interchangeable metaphors.  Hey, I’m a Capricorn and a romantic. What did you expect?  

11x3

11-11-11   I like the symmetry in the way this sounds. I suppose I should make as wish... can I make more then one? I know, that sounds greedy doesn't it? Anyway, won't reveal wish(es) as that's bad luck which would sort of defeat the karma of 11-11-11.

It's nice having the day off. I suppose there is an irony in having Veteran's Day off seeing how the active Veterans are really never off. But to the active duty and the retired Veterans we all owe then so much. And to their families we are equally indebted. They all make a enormous sacrifice along with the service men and women.

Reading some interesting material these past few days on creating the best lines in your poems some of which is related to line breaks.  I hope to share some more thoughts of this later over the weekend.

I've read quite a few poems on line lately but I've been meaning to mention one that was in the latest Autumn Sky Poetry edition.  If I Must Paint You a Picture by Joannie Stangeland. Joannie has done poetry justice using minimal words - no spare parts. She has captured the moment and made it her own and allowed us to linger in that moment until we are walloped over the head with an incredible ending. My hat is off to her and to Christine Klocek-Lim, Autumn Sky's editor for making a marvelous selection.

Weeks Mail Bag

Nothing new to report through yesterday. Just the run of the mill bills and advertisements, etc. Nothing poetry related **sigh** - same true for email. At least no rejections. I hope to send out more material this weekend. I'll let you know by Sunday night how that goes (my way of accountability).

Off for a morning Chiropractic visit - more later

A Time To Write

This week I explored some notions about time and writing and what follows are a compendium of my thoughts:

• We all have 168 hours each week to work with.
• Time spent at the office during the work week including hour allocated for lunch is 45 hours.
• Allocating 8 hours a day for sleep eats up another 56 hours.

Those are pretty much fixed expenditures of time. I could be a little more precise by throwing in travel time to and from work but leaving this as it is, the leaves 67 hours for all that other stuff,  [family time, travel, recreation, doctor appointments, grocery shopping, cleaning, shopping, lawn care, writing and so on...

There is a lot of stuff to eat up that remaining 67 hours. As a writer I have to figure out how and when to carve out time and then to make sure that allocated time is optimally used.  I've thought about the amount of remaining time and decided that I should schedule about 10% (rounding up to 7 hours)  of the remaining time for writing. It seems like a lot on one hand and yet it really not quite so much on the other. For example, I I am accustomed to writing often in 30 minute segments then I can think of it as a hour a day for seven days and it them seems like a lot. Now there are plenty of times that I buckle down and write for more then an hour at a time, working on new stuff and rewrites.  But that is not a daily occurrence and more likely then not to happen on a weekend. So a full hour every day then seems like a lot. On the other hand, if you think of your writing as a career/avocation then it hardly seems like much - 7 hours a week.

Another consideration is are we talking about writing or everything including writing related. If I start adding in the latter then we suddenly are talking about a lot of other things that could encroach upon that 7 hours. For example:

• Submitting work
• Organizing material in a retrievable fashion / backing up, etc.
• Reading (all writers need to be reading)
• Researching topics
• Researching markets
• Networking
• Attending events for peers and giving readings of your own work.

All of the above things are what I tend to refer to as administrative functions of a writer. They are not writing but they are ever bit a part of the process unless you just plan to write and stash your work in that third drawer of your dresser that you don't use for anything else because you have to stoop down to use it.

For now I have decided to embrace the 7 hour plan for a while and see how it works for me. I have yet to decide how much of that I will allow to allocate for writing related tasks. Realizing anything that comes out of time not a part of the 7 hours is essentially reducing the remaining 60 hours left after sleep and work.  These things have to be done but perhaps with a balance of not taking away too much from writing or remaining unallocated time.

I've decided that I need to do my best to elimination of distractions from the specific periods that I write. Some of those I can control and some are less easily effectuated but I need to try none the less.
For example - I can't stop to check my email or post on face book. I should park my cell during this time. TV off. Maybe add one of my writing play lists to the room to help reinforce what I am doing and as a way others entering may realize what I am doing at that specific time.

Getting 7 hours in would allow for example to take a night off to do something else and adding that extra hour to the weekend so I don't end up staying up late one night to get in an hour if we've been out for the evening. It allows for some flexibility with the weekend hours.

This is what my approach will be for the immediate future and I will address how is is or isn't working at 2 weeks and 4 weeks and make adjustments if necessary.

So how do you spend and allocate your writing time?

A Pleasant Find

I was looking through some of my sent mail and cleaning out stuff tonight when I ran across a draft of a poem written in July of 2009 that I sent to some poet friends that were sharing drafts back then.  There was a draft that I had forgotten though reading it after all this time I realized it was a remarkably strong draft to have since been overlooked. This was a surprising find and I promptly moved a copy of it to a working draft folder.

This likely is not an isolated incident for me.  I'm pretty sure I've a trail of promising drafts that have become neglected orphans. I need to revisit my old journals and old e-mails more often.

Do you have rough diamonds languishing in your sent folder, an obscure file folder on your computer or hard copies stashed in a drawer someplace? 

Opening Up~

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
 ~ Anais Nin

It seems to me that Nin's words above,  like so many of her bits of wisdom are in fact powerful maxiums we can all lean on in life. Everyone... but they seem so relevent to the writer's life - a life that often challenges one to risk opening the blossoms that reveal

Do you recall a time when your writing risked blossoming?

Bubble Wrapped Morning

When I started the day it looked like the near future had rain in store for us. Suddenly the sky got the green light and the rain came. 

Tonight I am supposed to be in Excelsior Springs for a reading. North of Kansas City - more small townish than urban and what seems to be a somewhat well beaten path for sever storms that pass north of Kansas City.

My fingers are crossed that the weather isn't cause for people staying away from the event. 

Of Ponderance and Brain Freeze

Great questions posed by Jeannine - Relative Success, Relative Failure - Life as a Poet.  Lots of food for thought.  No easy answers to these questions. Also the dialogue Nic Sebastian has been having on exposure for poetry - (see her post at Want Poetry Readers? Publish in multiple formats - some free) gives poets a lot to think about.  Then I read an article today... The author as entrepreneur, and the dangers it poses.  The author talks about a program similar to Kiskstarter but specifically for writers.

There are just so many things for writers to ponder today.