The Thursday! Newsletter 2-13: Creativity, Cheese, and A Look Inside!

Volume 2, Issue 13

I'd like to share with you how I write my poetry.

As with last week's newsletter, this may not be your kind of thing. If so, I entirely understand. I tend to write about whatever's been kicking around in my head since I sent out the last edition. This week, I've been giving thought to how I get from blank page to page full of poem and whether my process is serving me well. 

Every creative person has a process, even if they can't articulate it particularly well. Sometimes, when you ask an artist how they get from nothing to something, you get a snarky non-answer -- especially from experienced professional writers. Their snark doesn't help us, though, does it? I'd go so far to say that the snarky answer like "The idea fairy brings it to me!" or "I subscribe to the Plot of the Month Club!" is a particular form of self-protecting dishonesty. The truth is the creative process (and especially that first spark that begins any creative work) comes from inside the creator, not from a specific process nor checklist. I can't tell you where all my ideas come from, but I but I can explain one origin-- a poem I wrote earlier in the week called "The Thing About Cheese". I want to take you on a trip this week from nothing to something and show you how I wrote this particular poem. My hope is you can use some or all of my process to clarify your own. At the very end, you'll get an exclusive first-look at the completed work before I publish it to the world. Sound cool? Come on. Let me show you how it went down. 

So there I was, one Sunday after church, sharing a plate of nachos with my wife at our favorite Mexican restaurant when a thought occurred to me: "The thing about cheese is, cheese does not judge. It's just delicious." This is when the poem began. Because I've been writing poetry for a couple years and, more importantly, because I have trained myself to look for opportunities to write, I saw that line as a seed from which I could grow something interesting. I wrote it down in a little notebook I carry with me. 

(If you're a creative type of person, always carry a notebook and pen or pencil. Always. Don't rely on your phone. Don't rely on your memory. Rely on ink or graphite on paper. You can get your idea down more quickly and it will stick a bit better in your head.)

(Always look for opportunities to write. Or paint. Or whatever it is you do. All the raw material you ever need it around you every day. If you look for chances to write, you'll find them. They may be weird and related to cheese, but they'll be there.)

Once I had the idea, I then had to figure out what I wanted to do with it. Would it best work as the core of a poem or might I do something better with it -- a clever little piece of graphical art, a cheeky rhyme, a story about a man marooned on a distant deserted planet with nothing to eat for the rest of his life but cheese, a smaller story about life and cheese and self-worth? Nope, I thought, let's just go with a short poem and see what comes of it. 

I do this kind of thing a lot, actually. Rarely do I come to a creative project with a firm tone or emphasis I want to impart -- encouraging or silly or cautionary or reflective. Most times I don't choose the form the poem will take at the beginning either. Maybe it'll rhyme and maybe it won't. Maybe it'll fit into a traditional meter of style and maybe it won't. I choose a length -- short, medium, or longer -- and see where it goes. Sometimes the choice doesn't work out and I have to change mid-stream, but usually I stick to my original choice. Why? As one of my favorite movie reviewers would say, "I don't knooooooow." What I do know is the choice of one boundary signals to my brain that it is time to begin. I limit myself to one choice so I don't paralyze myself with an infinity of choices. You've felt that paralysis, haven't you? You may do anything but you don't know which thing is the "right" thing. As a result, you don't do anything. 

(You have to start. Nothing else happens until you start. Whatever you need to do to get off the starting line, do. Fix problems as you do. Straighten your wings as you fly. You will have time, I promise. Just make a start.)

Now that I have a line and a length, I'm ready to write. Back to the notebook I go, mostly because I don't tend to write in a particularly neat fashion. I scribble and line things out, I start and stop and re-start and...it really does get messy. I ruin entire pages with faltering beginnings. That's okay, though. I use what I didn't like to figure out what I do like. I can look back over the stuff that didn't work and pluck out things that might. A computer screen doesn't give me that option nearly as well. You will have to find your own way of creating -- your medium and method. Know, though, that the medium in which you start does not have to be the medium in which you finish. More on that later. Right now, let's look at that first shot at a poem.

Already, you can see how I've started with most of the line I wrote at the restaurant, but not all of it. I wander in one direction, stop and start over. I wander a bit more and...ew. No. Start all over. Geez. What in the world was I thinking? Do I want the reader to think they're delicious or the cheese is? Do I want ambiguity or simplicity? The next time through, I run all the way to the end. It's not perfect and, as I remember, it took me an hour or so to get from the first version to the second, but I think I've gotten the poem where I want it, at least for now. I give it a title, which in this case stuck around. They don't always. Sometimes, a better title suggests itself in the next phrase of writing and I run with that. So long as I have one for the computer file, I'm okay. 

(Close is fine. So is ugly. We forget this easily or are overwhelmed by how far our creation is right now from where we want it to be. That, also, is fine. Do not be daunted. Do not stop. Go to the next step in your process and make your project better. You aren't done. Not even close.)

And speaking of computer file, we are at the phase where I move from pen and paper to Google Docs, my preferred computer program. I won't say Google Docs is the best thing you can use but it works for me. I don't need a lot of sophistication in what I use -- only enough to keep what I have in a place I can access easily enough. I do download backups of my poem and story folders in my Google Drive so that I have them if, one day, I find a better option. To be perfectly honest, I am not such a fan of the Google company nor the people who make decisions for it. Right now, though, it does what I need and that's enough. 

The translation from handwritten draft to computer document is when I make the next set of edits. I move lines around or change the length a couple or three lines one way or the other. I try a favorite word or phrase in a couple different settings to see how it looks. I stand my poem on the screen and walk around it, so to speak. I examine it from different sides. I read it aloud to make sure it sings (poems are musical, you see). I kick it over to a trusted friend for their thoughts. 

(Find a trusted friend or two whose judgment you trust. Send your work during the edit phase to them, in parts if it's long or in whole if it's not. If possible, have a couple different trusted friends. It isn't important that they think like you do. In fact, it's best if they don't. But you put trust their taste and their impressions. They are your audience before you even have an audience. Listen to them.)

From here, it's all prettying-up. If the working title doesn't work quite as well, I'll change it. Sometimes, I'll shift a word here and there, but that doesn't happen often. Mostly, I'm looking for egregious mistakes. When I'm done that, I have a poem I like and I'm ready to give it to anyone who wants it. I hope that includes you! 

All that's left is to share it, which will happen in must a moment. First, I want to ask you if there's anything that wasn't clear to you or any point on which you're like me to write a little bit more. I plan to talk about poetry and music (and the value of reading your written work aloud) later on, but if you find the subject intriguing, just tell me and I'll write on it sooner rather than later. Otherwise, hit me with questions or comments, okay? If I get enough, I might just write a whole letter full of answers. Don't tempt me! 

And now, a poem. 

The Thing about Cheese
by Jimmie Bise, Jr.

The thing about cheese is cheese does not judge.
Delicious and versatile, it bears up our weary spirits
As it is borne up by the unassuming tortilla chips
In my comforting platter of nachos.

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What I Wrote Last Week

• "The Parade I Do Not See" is a poem about potential and how I often miss it.

• "Chomp" Is a poem about...well, you'll see.

• "The Panhandler" is a poem about an encounter that mostly happened. Mostly.

• "There is No Moon" is a story about how the moon went away.

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One Last Thing

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