Speaking of Poets--Happy BDay Emily!

Yesterday, (no, two days ago already) it was Emily Dickinson’s birthday. I am only just finding out because Billy Collins was on Prairie Home Companion this weekend in honor of her, and I listen to the rebroadcast of PHC on Sunday afternoons while lying on the floor. You can hear an older quite excellent interview with Billy Collins on why he loves Emily here.

Emily did not care about fame and success. She wrote 1800 poems and less than a dozen were published in her lifetime! As a child she hid at the top of the stairs when visitors came and listened. Her adult life was spent alone as a recluse working in her garden and writing poetry like a madwoman. Later she spent most of her time in bed (I am so in awe of her!)

Here’s a line from her poem, Compensation:

For each ecstatic instant

We must an anguish pay

In keen and quivering ratio

To the ecstasy.

So even though it’s two days belated, it’s never too late to read your favorite Emily poems. Or, for a little excitement, try Billy Collins reading his poem "Taking Off Emily Dickinson's Clothes."

Poets in Solidarity

It has been almost a year since we heard--mid-residency--about the massive earthquake that leveled Port-au-Prince, killing more than a quarter of a million Haitians. Six weeks after the quake, eighteen poets, self-described as a "quiet group, and often not a group at all," gave a reading in Cambridge, Massachusetts, to benefit Partners in Health, the wonderful organization started by Dr. Paul Farmer. Now, as the anniversary of the quake approaches, these poets have published Poets for Haiti: An Anthology of Poetry and Art. Seven poets read from the new collection last night at Porter Square Books, our favorite local independent. It was a packed house, the largest I've ever seen at an indy reading.

Ophelia Dahl, CEO of Partner's in Health, introduced the evening. She spoke of how the medical workers at PIH "accompany" people in the communities where they work, in the spirit of a Creole proverb that translates, roughly, as "you can't eat okra with one finger." The poets read with passion and verve. The hair rose on my neck as Haitian poet Patrick Sylvain cried out for his homeland. Former Poet laureate Robert Pinsky first read John Donne's "For Whom the Bell Tolls" before sharing his own "Ginza Samba," an ode to the hybrid backgrounds we all share. Later, I read through editor Kim Triedman's introduction. She is speaking of poets, but her words apply to all of us:

"We work alone. We listen to our own heady music. We write words that may or may not ever be heard. We tunnel deep into ourselves...but poets also represent something greater than themselves. They have always been the voice and the conscience of their generations--the conduits of change, and of hope, and of urgency."

Then, as if in an echo, I turn on my computer this morning to find posts from Jane and Phyllis. They both described a poetry reading at the Birch Bark Bookstore, presented by members of Nolan Zavoral's poetry collective. It was a frigid night in the Twin Cities and in Cambridge, but in both cities, poets, writers, and readers filled independent bookstores to hear fine words. Conduits of change, hope and urgency. Indeed.

Fine words for the end of the year. Happy holidays to all.

Observations of young writers

I've been AWOL, too. Must be the season. For me it's not a partner with a broken foot or parenting duties, or even anything to do with holidays (I'll admit I am a scrooge). No, I am immersed in end of the semester portfolio reviews.

I have 58 undergraduates all taking Writing Children's Stories in three separate classes. We are just finishing the YA section of the semester. As with the picture book and MG sections, there are odd coincidental overlaps between classes, even though they don't know one another. For example, this week alone I've had four stories about teen pregnancy. And all of them decide to have the baby, either keeping it or giving it up for adoption. There have also been a number of stories about rape. Drugs (especially hallucinogenic episodes) is another popular topic, including one where the mom is a heroin addict. A lot of them are writing about college students or older teens, a couple about kids in the army or marrying a kid in the army. Unlike the picture book and middle-grade stories, not one brings in an adult to solve a problem (the majority of picture books did). And contrary to what is hot in YA, I have not seen a single vampire, fairy or fallen angel. However, there was an appearance of zombies, and two vaguely futuristic settings, one WW II story, and one steamy gay romance (from a very brave student!)

Not sure what this all means, but since these students are between eighteen and twenty years old it is curious to note what they are reading and writing.

By the way. not one of them reads paranormal novels. In fact they were surprised when I sent them on assignment to a local B bookstore and all they saw were vampires.

Odds & Ends

I know, I know. I've been AWOL. But I have an excuse. My wife broke a little bone in her foot recently, so I'm driving and picking up and shopping, etc. It's a vertical break and a clean one, not horizontal and jagged. No surgery, just one of those tall, black soft casts. I asked the orthopedic doc if he had that in another color, maybe with a sharp high heel and a little chain across the instep. Alas.

I just saw an ad for something called "A Working Writer's Daily Planner 2011." Under 'What You'll Find Inside' there was this (partial) list: How to Format a manuscript, Story Idea Generation, How to End a Story, A Place to be Inspired," etc.

I found that book and list profoundly depressing. I'm sure it will help somebody somewhere, but it certainly isn't my cup of oolong. My computer formats my manuscripts, I ask the gods for story ideas and get them, I end stories when they're just about over but not quite, and I don't believe in inspiration, just my blue collar work ethic. I wish people would just write more and not buy yet another book about writing.

I'll bet you'd like Elissa Schappell's "St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves." Here's a quote from a TIN HOUSE interview where she's talking about adolescent POV: "Intuition -- that deep, inborn, and uncorrupted knowledge kids have -- that really interests me. Later etiquette or other screens occlude it but kids are really alive to profound stuff. They're on that weird threshold, they have this double optic: they're really alive to some adult truths but then they can pull back and view the world through kid goggles."

"Kid goggles" is very nice, isn't it? Let's all get some for Christmas.

RK

the middle morass

When my husband and I dine out, we often order appetizers, which we find to be the most inventive and interesting dishes on the menu. The other night, at a restaurant known for its creative chef, we were hungry enough to ignore that habit and ordered main courses. Mine was a very plain chunk of cod with a sauce that was indecipherable. Michael's was a steak slathered in a sauce far too decipherable, and couple of measly slices of potato. "Ugh," Michael said. "We should have known. A meal is like a book. The middle is always the worst part."

As a reader, I certainly find that to be true. I often find the energy lagging in books and I'm tempted to jump to the last few chapters (dessert!). Furthermore, as a writer I encounter the kind of writerly exhaustion to which Liza alluded in her last post, around page 150; in other words, the middle.

Some things can help. If I write the ending chapters (as I am tempted toward as a reader), I can trick myself into working backwards, so I don't notice when I get to the middle. The randomness exercises that Liza mentioned, be they Ron's talismanic words, my picture cards, or just plain reading articles on subjects far and wide, can push me through. Another way of getting through is to write chapters that I do not plan to use. Often, though, the only solution is setting the manuscript aside for a couple of months (something which I recognize is not always practical in a graduate program).

Well, I've finally finished the two books I've been working on: one adult, and one MG. On the first, it simply took years and years of writing and tossing, writing and struggling through the middle. On the second, I was helped along by a brilliant agent, whose advice supplied the key to unlocking the structure of the book. Does anyone else share this middle morass? What do you do about it?

Spice

Years ago, I was author-in-residence at a lively middle school where two exceptional teachers had created a strong writing program. A cardboard box, decorated with skull and crossbones, sat the the front of one room, with a sign reading "graveyard for dead words." Each day, students scrawled tired, cliched, or vague words on slips of paper and dropped them into the box. The graveyard held words such as "nice," "thing," "very." Great idea.

Perhaps because I've been feeling bone tired lately, my own prose seems ready for this graveyard. It tastes like Pablum, rather than chef Ana Sortun's fragrant Egyptian carrots flavored with dukkah. As a remedy, I've turned to suggestions from our esteemed faculty. The first is Ron Koertge's talismanic word exercise, where you pluck three words, at random, from the daily paper, and find a way to use them in that day's writing. My words this morning, taken from the Boston Globe: Scrooged (who knew that was a verb?); slash; taunt. I guess I was in the mood for verbs.

Last night, I spoke with Jackie Briggs Martin, who suggested that I keep a running list of favorite words. I chose the first words that popped into my head: chaparral; canyon; home. All nouns--and an odd mix that makes me think of Kelly Easton's enthusiasm for randomness. Saying them out loud already adds spice to my day.

What are your talismanic words? Your favorites? How do you add grit and spice to your writing?

Wednesday Links

There was a post floating around Twitter a month ago that said something like, Writing is 3% talent and 97% ignoring the internet. This has nothing to do with the links below.

Publishers' Weekly has a terrific round-up of the bumper crop of imprints devoted to young adult books, with quotes from the editors about what they're looking for. These are smaller houses, and if you've got a YA to shop it's a great place to start. There are imprints devoted to romance, multicultural fantasy, contemporary YA, lists that spin toward the dark and edgy. Though I take some exception to the publisher of WestSide Books' description of their list as, "No fantasy, no romance, no dragons, no vampires. We publish books that kids will relate to based on their own experiences. We don't want them to feel alone if they are going through difficult times." Because sometimes there's no greater company in difficult times than a girl with dragons to slay, or who is madly in love with someone who sucks out her soul. But that's another post.

Those of us at Hamline have had the privilege of hearing children's book expert Anita Silvey's wonderful talks on the stories behind the classics. Now she's got the Children's Book-A-Day Almanac. Every day she features a new book somehow tied to the day's date, and writes about the history and significance of the book.

Finally, the end of the year means all sorts of best of lists--and we at Hamline are thrilled that Jacqueline Briggs Martin's The Chiru of High Tibet made Kirkus' best of list--and mock Newbery and Caldecott discussions. 100 Scope Notes is keeping track of these, and has a round-up of the Caldecott lists up today. My little boy would vote for A Pig Parade is a Terrible Idea, but somehow I don't think he gets a vote.

Now, get back to work.

And Now...for a Word from Our Sponsor

Hello Storyteller's Inkpot readers,

Just a quick note from Hamline University to invite you to join two of our Inkpot bloggers for a one-day workshop on Saturday, December 4, 2010 at StoryStudio in Chicago, Illinois.

Award-winning young adult and children’s book authors Marsha Qualey and Marsha Chall will present a morning workshop and lunch to give you a sneak peek inside Hamline's accredited, low-residency master of fine arts in writing for children and young adults program. Qualey and Chall are both instructors in the program. Current students and alumni, as well as the dean of the Hamline University Graduate School of Liberal Studies, will also be in attendance to answer your questions. The cost is $25, including lunch. Attendance is free for SCBWI, CLN and StoryStudio members.

The topics presented at the workshop include 'How to Capture Your Childhood Memories and Channel Them into Your Writing' and 'How to Create Authentic, Novel-Worthy Characters in Your Books.'

Click here to learn more about the December 4 event and to register to attend. We'd love to see you there! And, if you can't make it, watch for future workshops of this kind on our website.

YOU

This is not turkey-related (sorry) but you've been on my mind lately. You in the 2nd person that is. I recently read YOU, by Charles Benoit. YOU is a dark, downward spiral of an everyday teenager—i.e., you. I mentioned it to my writing class, and this week I have four stories in second person, so "you" is now on many minds. Here is a bit of my textbook cautionary response:

Second person is by far the least used point of view in fiction. It has severe obstacles. Second person requires the reader not only to step into the head of the protagonist, but into her very shoes. The reader becomes the protagonist.

In turn, second person requires the writer to become one with the reader. The writer must convince the reader that the events are happening to her personally and that she is seeing and experiencing these events through her own eyes. Second person is often used in conjunction with present tense because both add immediacy to a scene.

Second person is more common in nonfiction, such as in instructional or advice-giving articles. It makes the lesson up-close and personal rather than formal. Think of the “Choose your Own Adventure” series, where the reader makes choices, and the outcome is open-ended. It often has a jarring effect in fiction. Your reader picks up a book to escape into another character for a while and using “you” destroys this illusion. It can feel weird--as though you are being bossed around with someone always telling you what to do and feel. This may be exactly what the author intends (or not).

I'm not totally anti-second person. It can have a lingering and powerful effect on the reader and it is an exciting challenge for the writer. Give it a whirl this weekend--become one with your reader. (put that way it sounds kind of thrilling...) Why not?

Those of you using second person, have anything to add?

Low-Hanging Fruit

A student sent me this quote from Robert Olen Butler's From Where You Dream:

"When I've finished a work, and some time passes, and I'm working up to something new, I feel that I am utterly wasting my life. I do trivial, ghastly, quotidian stuff; I hate myself; I complain about myself to my wife, and that hatred daily increases. Finally she says to me, 'Honey, it's OK, you've now reached total self-loathing; you're about to start writing.' She's always right. Soon thereafter, the door opens up to my unconscious, to my new work, and I leap in. And then I write every day and I am scared every day and I am happy every day."

This is apt for me right now. At least the first half, I wouldn't know anything about the second. The book I've spent all year complaining about is done, I've turned in the copyedits, I'm waiting to see the final draft of the cover and dipping my toe into the ocean of pre-publication panic. I am done. I am writing--absolutely nothing.

Some people write because they love writing. Some write because they love having written. I think I write mostly to keep the horrible feeling of not-writing away. It's what I'm for, simply--and when not doing it, I am for nothing but self-pity, Top Chef, and the terrible realization that I have no actual job qualifications. That book you're working on, that story you're telling yourself a little more every day, is the stuff that propels you forward. Storytelling is the driving force of life. And of course there's always the panic that you'll never have an idea again--this is it, the well is dry. I have friends who have ideas popping up everywhere, and all they have to do is walk out into their lush gardens and pick whichever one looks the juiciest. I'm the next-door neighbor whose backyard is a thicket of weeds and cracked dry soil and malevolent squirrels. Every once in a great while a tiny green shoot of something pops up tentatively, valiantly photosynthesizes, then thinks Aw, screw this! and gives itself to the boll weevils.

This happens every time, and you'd think I'd learn after awhile and chill a bit. But, I ask you, if we go around learning from past experience all the time, how would we be miserable? I'll be like this until something happens, some brave little shoot survives the parched soil, soul-sucking pestilence, and periodic hailstorms of the quotidian.

Theoretically, it could happen, right?