Five chapbooks were chosen this year for paper publication and promotion. Mine was not one of them.
Ten other chapbooks were chosen for online "publication" and possible inclusion in an anthology. Your Only Shiny Thing is one of those chapbooks!! Mission accomplished, by my standards! My teammate Zach is also one of the ten "runners up," congratulations to him as well.
However, there is a book contest taking entries in January. If I fatten up Your Only Shiny Thing, I have a fair chance at winning that sucker.
ROCK N ROLL!!
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Envelope Addressed To Myself
So my SASE arrived in the mail yesterday, and just seeing the USC insignia on the stationery got me excited. Inside were two pieces of paper thanking me for entering the chapbook contest and reminding me that the winners will be announced at the state museum this Saturday.
On facebook, the poetry initiative invited all us poetry-types to the museum this Saturday as well. When I saw a list of names for "contest winners" and only 8 of them, I nearly snapped. "None of the three of us won? And there are only EIGHT instead of fifteen?! This is the DUMBEST con-- oh, from 2007. Hee he." Among them is Ray McManus, who will give another great reading. The man has yet to disappoint ever since the first time Severin and I saw him at the SC Book Fair open mic. He also did a great job teaching my creative writing class for a day and was the most interesting part of the Ed Madden celebration.
This Saturday, then! As long as there are only 14 contestants better than me, it should be a proud day!
On facebook, the poetry initiative invited all us poetry-types to the museum this Saturday as well. When I saw a list of names for "contest winners" and only 8 of them, I nearly snapped. "None of the three of us won? And there are only EIGHT instead of fifteen?! This is the DUMBEST con-- oh, from 2007. Hee he." Among them is Ray McManus, who will give another great reading. The man has yet to disappoint ever since the first time Severin and I saw him at the SC Book Fair open mic. He also did a great job teaching my creative writing class for a day and was the most interesting part of the Ed Madden celebration.
This Saturday, then! As long as there are only 14 contestants better than me, it should be a proud day!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Ingredients For Chapbook Contest
- Manuscript, reprinted in 1.5 space after the double-spaced copy turned out to break the page limit
- Check for $15
- Cover letter, short, sweet and signed
- Two title pages, one with contact info and one without
- Self-Addressed Stamped Envelope (SASE)
- Double servings of my made-from-scratch optimism and self-esteem
- Postmarked by Sept. 30
Now to wait a week! (mailed 9/26)
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Sliiiiiide! Safe!
There are still minor edits to be made, and the exact order is by no means final, but here is the tentative final "tracklist" for this project:
Under Pressure
Life Lessons
Ripe
Weeding Is A Savage Affair
Daddy Cut Diamonds
Living Medicine
From Athens To Greece In Zero Seconds Flat
How Many Birminghams
Unearthing The Blue Bomber
Lights Out
Hold Your Applause
October
Ours Was An Easy Dish
Lullaby in Crisis
Idea of Happiness
Bus Ride Nostalgia
Rousing A Glow
Just To Hear The Tone
Your Only Shiny Thing
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Home Stretch
Right now I have about 14 out of 20 poems prepared for completion -- 10 finished poems and 4 good ideas that need fleshing out. Fleshing out is often the fun part of forming a rough draft; getting the seed idea
is what causes any irritation.
And 14/20 isn't a home stretch, that's a work in progress! But today I attended a poetry workshop and reading by Naomi Nye, and wow, now I have some five more solid ideas to round out the chapbook. She's a very kind, bright, and aware person, and deserves whatever positive reputation spread in her name. Her voice is as fitting for poetry as it is for song, and I'm jealous of her students.
Aracelis Girmay, a young, accomplished poem in her own right, performed as well. She's talented, but I'm less receptive to "social injustice and war crimes" poetry. However, she saved
her stunner for last, a poem named "Loesfoeribari." It was the equivalent of being shown a plain white toaster and having its unremarkable features described, then ending with dropping a butter knife into the red-hot burners and watching the whole thing flash and explode. It was the stealthiest burst of joy I've ever heard in a poem, and added "Loesfoeribari" to my vocabulary.
My online order of Nye's book didn't arrive in time for her to sign it; I was forced to buy one of her books that's partially included in the ordered "Collected Poems." I didn't mind one bit.
is what causes any irritation.And 14/20 isn't a home stretch, that's a work in progress! But today I attended a poetry workshop and reading by Naomi Nye, and wow, now I have some five more solid ideas to round out the chapbook. She's a very kind, bright, and aware person, and deserves whatever positive reputation spread in her name. Her voice is as fitting for poetry as it is for song, and I'm jealous of her students.
Aracelis Girmay, a young, accomplished poem in her own right, performed as well. She's talented, but I'm less receptive to "social injustice and war crimes" poetry. However, she saved
her stunner for last, a poem named "Loesfoeribari." It was the equivalent of being shown a plain white toaster and having its unremarkable features described, then ending with dropping a butter knife into the red-hot burners and watching the whole thing flash and explode. It was the stealthiest burst of joy I've ever heard in a poem, and added "Loesfoeribari" to my vocabulary.My online order of Nye's book didn't arrive in time for her to sign it; I was forced to buy one of her books that's partially included in the ordered "Collected Poems." I didn't mind one bit.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Optional Robot Design
While I eagerly await whatever mechanical masterpiece my cousin sends here to use as a chapbook cover, I've found another robot candidate who looks lonely and like he is nobody's shiny thing:
Friday, September 12, 2008
This Is What A Rough Draft Looks Like
Below are the scraps of a poem yet to see even a rough completion. It's a cell rapidly dividing in the DNA of my imagination, but hasn't filled its petry dish. The concept and premise are clear: Lady and Robot go running, Robot has heart attack, Lady brings him home where he recovers, Lady hasn't learned a drop extra about compassion. The idea's in place for her to show the tiniest sign of coldness by leaving his shoes by the door instead of bringing them to him; this comes back as the nastiness it really is when he's still wheezing in bed and she leaves his medicine out of reach.
In terms of poetic concept, I am dead-set on having the poem use iambic pentameter or tetrameter before and after the heart attack, and free verse during.
"
I left your shoes at the side of the door for you
to find. Tie them, and together we'll run
between patches of shade and ignore this heat,
ignore the steps softly falling behind,
your figure curling into the pebbled road.
My pace before your cry for help was swift,
but I lost [speed]
Your voice whistling
to be heard,
hands weakly reaching
to be felt,
my foot on the gas
to put you to bed.
Two aspirin wait on the side of the nightstand for you
to find.
"
Now I just have to fill out the details of this miniature soap opera, which is always the trickiest part. Every element has to say something beyond the obvious, yet tell the basic story as well: where are they working out? How do they get home? What are his symptoms, what do they say to each other? The answers to all of these questions will tell the reader who these people are and their place in the world and each other's.
One of my loftiest goals for this chapbook is to depict two people (one is possibly a robot; this is beside the point). There are other poems dedicated to their moments of happiness and calm, but this is one of the peak points of their incompatibility threatening the relationship's very existence. He must play the victim, but seem to be arrogant beforehand. She must seem heartless, yet sympathetic, even as she blithely tends to her sick partner.
She sure as hell isn't going to cry or contemplate her mortality.
We'll see how recognizeable (and better? maybe?) this poem is in in its final stages.
The Object of My Poetic Desire: "That?"
A chapbook generally has two methods of assembly:
1) Go through your many poems written over the course of years and stick all the best ones together that have anything in common or relate to each other, either in similarities or opposites. All of the hardest work is already done by virtue of being a poet, with only edits and re-arranging to toil over.
2) Pick a major theme or story and write one from the ground up. Torture yourself over every poem in the sequence, whether you try to envision it from beginning to end, in random order, or even "signature pieces" with in-between space to be determined.
I chose the second one, and it is as rewarding as it is seemingly futile. Poetry is often about the unexpected and spontaneous, and crafting something with a deliberate story in mind can be treacherous. It's the difference between being nominated to an already-existing political party and starting your own: you'd better have goals you believe in and energy to chase down every last possible voter!
A little over a week ago, I had to choose between two paths for the chapbook to take: devote all of it to one perspective, or use two perspectives and let each have a half? Each comes with its own advantages and disadvantages, but I chose the mono-view and hope it doesn't get old with readers or myself.
There is a poet whose stage name is Black Madonna, and she has the motto, "Don't write poetry because you can, write it because you can't not!" I whole-heartedly agree. I write poetry because I can't not, but I write these poems because they were assigned their places. It's like always having a passion for painting, then being commissioned to render the horizon over Chicago: "...that?"
**EDIT** The part about building from the ground up may turn out to be a bold-faced lie. I've just purged my old poetry folders for material that looks like it would fit in with the other poems already slotted for the chapbook, and there are 3-5 good picks. Of course, everything is up for aggressive editing and expansion as my two collaborators and I pick at their content, but regardless, there is some imported content involved. Now you know!
1) Go through your many poems written over the course of years and stick all the best ones together that have anything in common or relate to each other, either in similarities or opposites. All of the hardest work is already done by virtue of being a poet, with only edits and re-arranging to toil over.
2) Pick a major theme or story and write one from the ground up. Torture yourself over every poem in the sequence, whether you try to envision it from beginning to end, in random order, or even "signature pieces" with in-between space to be determined.
I chose the second one, and it is as rewarding as it is seemingly futile. Poetry is often about the unexpected and spontaneous, and crafting something with a deliberate story in mind can be treacherous. It's the difference between being nominated to an already-existing political party and starting your own: you'd better have goals you believe in and energy to chase down every last possible voter!
A little over a week ago, I had to choose between two paths for the chapbook to take: devote all of it to one perspective, or use two perspectives and let each have a half? Each comes with its own advantages and disadvantages, but I chose the mono-view and hope it doesn't get old with readers or myself.
There is a poet whose stage name is Black Madonna, and she has the motto, "Don't write poetry because you can, write it because you can't not!" I whole-heartedly agree. I write poetry because I can't not, but I write these poems because they were assigned their places. It's like always having a passion for painting, then being commissioned to render the horizon over Chicago: "...that?"
**EDIT** The part about building from the ground up may turn out to be a bold-faced lie. I've just purged my old poetry folders for material that looks like it would fit in with the other poems already slotted for the chapbook, and there are 3-5 good picks. Of course, everything is up for aggressive editing and expansion as my two collaborators and I pick at their content, but regardless, there is some imported content involved. Now you know!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Influence On Purpose
A couple years ago in a poetry class, I was asked to name a poet who could be considered an influence on my writing. The response was "a mix of Charles Bukowski and Louise Gluck," mainly because they love free verse and personal issues and still mainly because they're easy to imitate.
Every creative profession is prone to being full of the cleverest thieves who retro-fit other people's work into something just different enough that the plagiarism isn't noticed. The worst writers are thus the most entertaining ones who must hide their shameful secret. The best writers are the slow-cookers who read as much as they can in the field but then go the extra mile to consider, "What does this teach me about my own writing? What awareness does this poet share that I can apply in my own way?"
This has less to do with tools as it does with style. Every poet should have metaphors, similes, meter, and rhyme in their toolboxes. But how they choose to tell a story or relate an idea, that can be as suffocating in its freedom as in its writer's block. So it helps to look at how other writers did it, if only to get an idea of what works and what the budding writer likes on the page.
For example, the past few poets I've been reading have all colored my ideas for "Your Only Shiny Thing." In the past, I stood by my answer of Bukowski/Gluck, but now that I don't have to read poetry for assignments anymore, I can read for personal growth and not an exam-approved interpretation.
The results put me to sleep sometimes, and spark my mind with lightning other times. A few examples:
Sylvia Plath finally entered my oeuvre in recent weeks, despite her reputation as the Institution For Insecure Girls and Somehow-Inferior Confessional Poetry. Haha, no, ivory towers, Plath does in prose and poetry what people love about good writing: it's engaging and emotionally invested and uses tons of writing tricks without existing SOLELY to show off her ability with a sestina. "The Bell Jar" was spellbinding, even when it became a progression of more and more self-hating schemes to lose the protagonist's virginity and self-esteem. "Ariel" reconfirmed all the talent a second time, and now I'll happily align myself among her followers.
That's just one example. This blog is going to be almost nothing but examples, so stay tuned! There'll be copyright-infringing excerpts and everything!
Every creative profession is prone to being full of the cleverest thieves who retro-fit other people's work into something just different enough that the plagiarism isn't noticed. The worst writers are thus the most entertaining ones who must hide their shameful secret. The best writers are the slow-cookers who read as much as they can in the field but then go the extra mile to consider, "What does this teach me about my own writing? What awareness does this poet share that I can apply in my own way?"
This has less to do with tools as it does with style. Every poet should have metaphors, similes, meter, and rhyme in their toolboxes. But how they choose to tell a story or relate an idea, that can be as suffocating in its freedom as in its writer's block. So it helps to look at how other writers did it, if only to get an idea of what works and what the budding writer likes on the page.
For example, the past few poets I've been reading have all colored my ideas for "Your Only Shiny Thing." In the past, I stood by my answer of Bukowski/Gluck, but now that I don't have to read poetry for assignments anymore, I can read for personal growth and not an exam-approved interpretation.
The results put me to sleep sometimes, and spark my mind with lightning other times. A few examples:
Sylvia Plath finally entered my oeuvre in recent weeks, despite her reputation as the Institution For Insecure Girls and Somehow-Inferior Confessional Poetry. Haha, no, ivory towers, Plath does in prose and poetry what people love about good writing: it's engaging and emotionally invested and uses tons of writing tricks without existing SOLELY to show off her ability with a sestina. "The Bell Jar" was spellbinding, even when it became a progression of more and more self-hating schemes to lose the protagonist's virginity and self-esteem. "Ariel" reconfirmed all the talent a second time, and now I'll happily align myself among her followers.
That's just one example. This blog is going to be almost nothing but examples, so stay tuned! There'll be copyright-infringing excerpts and everything!
Monday, August 25, 2008
Synopsis, Origins
Before I knew this would be a chapbook, my writing journal was slowly filling with experimental stanzas and titles without content. Then word reached me about a chapbook contest and I figured that a title would give me a theme by which to tie 20 or so poems together, as beneath a standard.
I went through some songs on my computer's playlist and noticed one of my favorite Tom Waits songs, "Shiny Things." That made a great title, as well as used the word "Your" to pull in passers-by, but a split second after choosing the title, the cover image came to mind. My cousin, Elle Liamson, has a hobby of painting robots on canvas, and what better "shiny thing" to display than a robot walking along?
This led to an attempt to fulfill inspiration, and I wrote a rough poem called "Your Only Shiny Thing," except it ended up being about an old woman unwilling to help herself or acknowledge the warmth in her life. I wanted it to be about a robot who secretly loves his owner! But the theme meshed easily and convinced me: the chapbook would be about one-sided relationships. But there's more to the equation -- there has to be, or else I would just be writing angsty "me me me" poems and realize it before the journal was even shut.
No, other poets have been teaching me. Figures that the most vital poetry lessons would arrive after graduation!
I went through some songs on my computer's playlist and noticed one of my favorite Tom Waits songs, "Shiny Things." That made a great title, as well as used the word "Your" to pull in passers-by, but a split second after choosing the title, the cover image came to mind. My cousin, Elle Liamson, has a hobby of painting robots on canvas, and what better "shiny thing" to display than a robot walking along?
This led to an attempt to fulfill inspiration, and I wrote a rough poem called "Your Only Shiny Thing," except it ended up being about an old woman unwilling to help herself or acknowledge the warmth in her life. I wanted it to be about a robot who secretly loves his owner! But the theme meshed easily and convinced me: the chapbook would be about one-sided relationships. But there's more to the equation -- there has to be, or else I would just be writing angsty "me me me" poems and realize it before the journal was even shut.
No, other poets have been teaching me. Figures that the most vital poetry lessons would arrive after graduation!
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