The Thursday! Newsletter 1-44: One Crazy September
Volume 1, Issue 44
I'm going light in this issue.
You won't get the usual long essay full of (hopefully) helpful advice and useful information. Instead, I'm going to share with you what I'm doing right now and how I decided to ignore my own advice about saving some creative energy. Remember that idea pot I mentioned a while back? Yeah. That. I'm treating that like I'm Elijah's widow woman with my a miraculous supply of ingredients.
The short version is I'm writing and publishing a poem every day of September. You'll notice, once you get past this section of the newsletter, that the first week of the month has gone pretty well. I left you a bunch of poems to read. Please don't feel obliged to read them all, though I'd like it if you did. You won't have wasted your time. Heck, you can even read one or two of them each day and keep pace with me because next week's newsletter is going to have a load of links, too!
The long version is this: My first book is a poetry book. I wouldn't have chosen that myself but I've found that, very often, we do not always choose our best paths. We simply walk them as they present themselves and only later do we learn how good they are for us. I didn't set out to be a published poet and I'm not altogether sure I'll ever publish a book of children's poetry again. What the book did show me, though, is that I have a knack for writing poems. After a few months of reading and playing around with words and lines and forms and such, I decided to figure out whether or not I can really write poetry. I don't mean quick and clever little four-line dittys. I mean the bigger stuff. The stuff that flows and sings but that might not rhyme; the stuff that dances to an uncertain but recognizable rhythm. I also want to see if I can spin a little ditty into a larger "song". Can I write poems that seem like they're for kids but that carry a larger emotional payload? The only way I know how to do that is to write poetry until I figure it out.
Here's the problem. There is no objective measure for what makes good poetry. Once you get out of the "forms" of the art -- meter and rhythm and rhyme -- you wade into the muddiest waters I've ever seen in art. Literally no one I've asked can give me an answer to the question "What makes a poem good?" All they can tell me is what they like and even then the answer shifts and squirms about like an eel on a fishing line. I include myself here, too. I don't always know why I like one poem over another. Most times I can tell you why I like one poet over another. For instance, I'm not such a fan of Wallace Stevens ("The Emperor of Ice Cream"; "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird") because I find his poems too dense for me to get into. I can't penetrate the outer hull, so to speak. I like T.S. Eliot ("The Waste Land") because he invites me in and shows me mysterious things. I like Ogden Nash ("The Panther", "A Word to Husbands") because he is quick and clever but also deep and interesting. We complicate this more when we share poems with each other because what appeals to me won't necessarily appeal to you. It's not like I can take one poet's work and translate it to another quite as easily I can with authors that work in a certain genre. If you tell me you like Agatha Christie, I can recommend Ruth Ware with confidence. Who can I recommend to you if you tell me you like Billy Collins?
Now, extend that to creation. I want to be a better poet but I have no standard by which to measure my poems. I can't say one poem is objectively better to another because that measure simply doesn't exist. How, then, do I get better?
Write a lot of poems. I set myself to a mission. Thirty poems in thirty days, on top of all the other things I still do during a month (such as this!). That's where I am now. Today is Day 7 or 30. You can see the six poems I've written already in this One Crazy September (which is the tag I'm using on my website to collect this bunch). You're welcome to come along with me. I'm emptying my creative pot on purpose, to see if I can do the hard work of writing when the ideas don't overflow and the deadlines loom. I'm pressure-testing my creativity by forcing it into an unfamiliar place and demanding improvement where no certain measure exists. I'm asking myself at creative knifepoint to collect poems wherever I can find them because I can't afford to throw anything out. And I'm trying to learn a little bit about how to be a poet with each one.
It's 23 days to October. We have a full head of ambition, a half a tank of ideas, it's dark, and we're writing poems.
Hit it.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
What I Wrote Last Week
"A Cookout" is a haunted house poem. Kind of.
"My Friend Lives Next to a Graveyard" was inspired by my friend who...well, you get it.
"The Outbound Run" is a little Lovecraftian tale, but without the squamous rugosity.
"The Pink Bracelet" is a poem about a bracelet that may or may not have special properties.
"The Key to a Buffalo Skate Party" is a poem that contains useful information you might need later!
"To the Person In Front of Me in the Passing Lane Driving Exactly the Speed Limit" is a poem for everyone who's gotten a little...mean...behind the wheel.
"My Favorite Park" is a little end-of-summer poem about a beautiful place.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
One Last Thing
This is where I ask you to help me out. I don't like asking for help but there's no way I can share Thursday! far and wide without wonderful people like you who dig what I do and are willing to tell other people about it. Please, feel free to share this or any past newsletter with anyone you think will love it like you do. You can also buy or share my cool book, give it a solid review, or get an autographed copy (ask and I'll tell you how!).
If you're seeing Thursday! for the first time, HI! I'm glad to meet you. If you want more, subscribe right here.
As always, you can always talk back to me by hitting the reply button! I can't promise I'll always answer back, because I'm quite forgetful, but I'll read everything you send.