Writing and Family Response

HOW TO HELP FRIENDS AND FAMILY UNDERSTAND YOUR WRITING...

I saw this and it stood out like flickering neon. So, naturally I was drawn to read it. [FULL INTERVIEW HERE] The bonus was it's an interview with a poet whose work I greatly admire. 

Mary Biddinger tackles the anxiety that many poet have over family response. I'm not talking about criticism of the quality of one's writing - that could be another whole blog post.  Biddinger talks about the tendency to view what poets have written as autobiographical which can often lead to family and friends reading the poet into the poem literally or perhaps thinking they have been drug into the poem too. Hurt feelings, uncomfortable assumptions. Things less likely to plague an aspiring fiction writer then poet. 

Mary has notion as to what is partly to blame for this problem. It's also interesting to hear her perspective on all of this because she is teaches literature and poetry writing on a University level so she has experienced students who deal with this kind of anxiety but also has the personal contrast of growing up in an art rich family environment that understands the connection of artist to art. 

It's an interesting read. Speaking of which I can't wait to read her next volume of poetry due out this month titled O Holy Insurgency.

Mary Biddinger - Wikipedia 

Mary Biddinger Dot Com

Confession Tuesday - Goose Egg Edition

Dear Readers: It’s been one house color change, one closet clean-out, one crawl space clean-out, one week of writing with another poet’s coaching, another week of Mod Po class and one poem acceptance for publication since my last confession.

 Let’s head to the confessional, shall we? 

Ah, much is going on. In addition to all this there is my day job which has been demanding as usual. I confess that many days it is noon or one o’clock before I realize it. This is usually a pretty good thing because the work can at times seem long and intense. I always appreciate it when I realize that I’m already on the downhill slope to quitting time.

 We are painting our home. Or having it painted is more precise since I’m not dancing on a ladder and flailing my arms about trying not to fall and break my neck or other body parts. I came home last night to see the color for the first time, at least the base color. I confess that I had no idea what color it would be. We have known the painter for years. He did the last painting some 10 years ago. Then we close the colors. We had to budget this since we also needed to do some repairs and keep within budget. We were told that leaving some flexibility would allow the painter to get us a better deal on the price of the paint. Of course that required some degree of trust. What I saw last night I liked.

There has been a lot of activity at home this past week, movement both inside and outside the house. Not the most conducive environment for creative work. I confess that I've fared relatively well all things considered. While not painting, I've done a lot of stuff on the inside of the house. Some others have been more busy then I but all the while there has been commotion. I confess I would love a week of normalcy if such a thing exists. Oh wait… the commotion has been normalcy for us. (Sigh)

I went to listen to a friend of mine read at the Writers Place on Friday. I confess I had not seen Amy in quite a while. It was nice to catch up with her. She is an awesome poet and sometimes when I’m looking to jump-start myself when I’m at a wall in my writing there are several poets that I like to keep a copy of their work close at hand because if I read a poem or two it always reminds me of what’s possible. Amy is one of these poets. Sometime soon I’ll do a special post on poets who inspire me.

I confess that I have NOTHING out in the world being considered. How this happened I don’t know. I cannot ever recall a time since I began submitting work years ago that I had nothing under consideration. I usually get a rejection or an acceptance and have several others pending and promptly shoot work off elsewhere. Getting an acceptance over the weekend I updated my submission tracker and realized with this acceptance I had no more outstanding submissions I was waiting on. I confess this feels like a major lapse. Like you missed an important payment or something… How could this happen? Well I shall get at least one off tonight. I won’t feel right if I don’t.

Journal Bits Week of Sept 24, 2012

Bits of journal entries from the past week.

• Tree branches sway to the choreography of the breeze. 
• My weakness if we must go there/is black walnut ice cream./Black walnut, I love you more than bacon!
• Heavy lines drooped from pole to pole/eventually tied off at buildings/like circus elephants on moorings.
• If I write myself into a poem I don't like will I be able to get out?
• Planted roasted marshmallows in our mouths, then kissed the sticky off each others lips.
• Holding time inappropriately in ones hand.
• I'm tired and feel horribly grungy today...
• Picturing poets playing poker with metaphorical faces. 

Good News....

I like good news... it's the best kind.  Clear out of the blue yesterday I was scrolling down my e-mail on my Blackberry and realized a acceptance e-mail had arrived earlier in the day that I missed. Another poem finds a home. Yeah!

Saturday Morning Sigh...

After a work week that was grueling I'd like to say that I'm looking forward to this weekend but there is this thing called time and there is so much to do.

For a short (I mean very short) while it seems I was getting away from the stranglehold that time and death seem to have had on me for most of my adult life. I feel it creeping back into the picture again. It's not a good way to live...

Confession Tuesday - Paranoia, Writing, Baseball and No Baseball

Dear Readers-

It’s been one week and a doctor’s visit since my last confession. Let’s move to the box.

I confess to a bit of paranoia associated with both my upcoming flu shot scheduled for October 10 and the coughing, congested sinus thing I had going on this weekend.  Why, you ask? Okay, you didn’t but I’m going to tell you anyway. Last year I got a flu shot, just as I have for many years now.  But last year I actually contracted the flu a couple months later.  I was hit hard by this. It was one of the more memorable times I’ve been ill not so much because it was the most recent but because I felt like hell in many ways. We are talking both Flu and pneumonia.  Besides, it came on the heels of two other periods of sickness. I was weak, sore chest, feverish, headache, had a chaotic cough and had trouble breathing. So all this is to say I’m over obsessing about that period when I looked and felt like hell.

Yesterday, I began a six week writing session. I’m working with another poet (this will be the third time in four years I’ve done this) and I confess I always find it both stimulating and a little prone to anxiety. I always seem to get past the anxiety though and quite frankly it’s self-inflicted. I think every writer should do this once a year no matter how long they have been writing.  I recommend you find someone for starters whose work you really respect. I think it helps too if you know something about that person’s work ethic. I sometimes have multi objectives but the major one is always force myself outside the comfort zone.  If your writing is always comfortable how interesting can it be?

I’m excited about fall ball again this year. My San Francisco Giants have won the western division championship once again. I confess that I know they probably don’t have the best talent overall on their team, but they do have talented players and their secret I feel is that this team has real chemistry.  When they went all the way to the World Series in 2010 and won it was good pitching, good defense and out of this world team chemistry.

And now for my disclaimer for the time of year. It’s coming up on SAD time.  I confess that my family doesn’t buy the whole SAD thing. They don’t see it as Seasonal Affective Disorder but rather Seasonal Adjustment Disorder. They believe it is not about less sunlight and more about baseball, or the lack thereof. So to them SAD represents that time when baseball is gone from my life. When it returns in spring, I’m all happy again. Sure, I’ll admit I’m a happier and more amicable person during baseball season as a general rule, but I don’t think it’s that simple. 

Confession Tuesday - Backhoe Edition

It's been a week since my last confession. A cooler week and I got a haircut and mowed the grass in the same week. The weather being what it's been it had been longer between yard mows then haircuts... I think.

Come along, it's confession time and I'm sure I have something I can confess.

Dear Reader:

Yesterday I was driving through the city when I pulled up behind two other cars at a stop light. Hearing the deep sound of gears engaging I saw on the passenger side of the car a big yellow monster taking up the better part of two lanes between myself and the curb. Said yellow monster was backing my direction while on the front end it was lifting a heavy metal plate from the asphalt. All of this was under the direction of a man who was talking on a cell phone in the drivers seat. I confess that my Capricorn sensibility cause me to utter out loud WTF is this dumb shit doing? Neither I our our car was harmed in the incident. All I can say today looking back was thank God he wasn't texting. People - this does not seem like a multi-tasking sort of job. As I drove away I said a prayer that no bad incidents occurred the rest of the day at this work site.

Monday night is one night where we especially enjoy the TV shows. Major Crimes and Perception being two shows we watch. It's a night Cathy (my wife) looks forward to watching TV. So last night was a most inopportune time for our cable to crash but it did.  Now I could I could see how some people could say make the best of it and do something like... read a good book. I confess I did not do that. I too look forward to Monday night TV not only because of the shows but because it's something we do together. So last night was a downer for both of us.  I confess we ended up going to bed earlier then normal.  By the way, tech support was unable to again get it running and we remain without it again tonight and it will be tomorrow before the service people can come out.

I probably should confess something related to writing so thinking back this week I guess there are a few things I can touch on about writing. One is that I am excited that  I am about to begin a six week mentoring session with an awesome poet. This will be the third fall I've done this and it is something I really need this fall. Personally I think this is the kind of thing every poet should plan to do once a year. I confess that if I had 6 books published and another one or two waiting in the wings I would think there is value in this. So yes, I confess that I am excited. I'm always a little anxious at the same time because your work is going to be under more scrutiny in the draft form.

Coming upon the last quarter of the year I always try and take an inventory of where I am in my writing. I confess this can be a humbling experience. So I've been thinking a lot about this year a lot these past few weeks.

And last- on an upbeat note of sorts. A rejection letter this week with a positive note,,,  It read in part, "Dear Michael,  thank you for submitting to XXXXX Journal. It was great to see your work in our reading line up again. We have carefully reviewed your submission. Although it was not selected for publication this time in our journal, we wanted to let you know that your poems XXXX and XXXXXX did make it to our final round of readings for their wonderful images and subject matter...."  I confess that if you are going to be rejected, that a pretty decent rejection.