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WHEN “I” DOESN’T MEAN “ME”: Lesson #1 From My Latest Poem

ByLee Ann
This entry is part 8 of 11 in the series The Creative Process Unmasked

It’s easy to assume that when a writer uses the first person in a poem or story, the “I” she’s referring to is herself. Not so! Well, sometimes it’s so, but more often than not the writer has made a creative choice, and there are many different reasons to decide to write something in the first person. This decision is a big part of the creative process.

Here’s an example: a poem I recently wrote with a first-person narrator. Click here to read it; I’ll wait while you do that.

waiting patiently while you read

What’s Real and What’s Not

OK, welcome back! Now, a number of people have told me how interested they were to read about my grandmother and the experience I described from childhood. The thing is, I had no such grandmother and no such experience. In fact, the entire back yard scene was conjured up by my imagination during a “free write” session in a poetry workshop. I saw the scene clearly in my mind and wrote it down, up to the point where the young girl is trailing after the tall, muttering old woman. Certain elements – the rooftops, the clothesline – matched my actual grandmother’s back yard. Beyond that, the key elements – the sniffing, the predictions, even the wicker basket – all made up.

My Mimi’s clothesline did not look like this

I actually decided to make this a first-person narrator because first-person is the best way to give readers direct, unfiltered access to what’s going on inside a character’s head. The character herself is telling the story, not a separate narrator once removed. It’s more immediate than if I’d written “she set out to practice”, or “she learned”. Try replacing “I” with “she” when re-reading the poem, and see if you agree.

Time to Marinate

When I wrote the scene, I knew I wanted to expand it into something, but I didn’t know exactly what. So I filed the scene away and didn’t look at it again for over six months. The creative process involves a lot of marinating. I’ve written about this already in this series: draft versions take time to develop into a finished product. They benefit from being set aside for a while. In this case, when I read the scene again with the fresh eyes that six months’ distance gave me, I immediately started to wonder about how this young girl character might respond to her grandmother and this power. Which led me to the second half of the poem, and the decision to use a first-person narrator.

“Rain’s coming,” she’d say.

In the next installment of this series, I’ll write some more about the second half of the poem, as I continue to “unmask” the creative process for you. Meanwhile, remember: beware the temptation to assume that the use of “I” in a story or poem means the writer is writing about herself! It’s a choice she makes as part of the creative process.

Lee Ann

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PERSPECTIVE

ByLee Ann
This entry is part 7 of 11 in the series The Creative Process Unmasked

The creative process has a lot to do with perspective. I was reminded of this a couple of years ago when I went to a painting party. Over a few hours, an artist showed a group of us how to create a simple painting of a sailboat at night. No two pieces of art, even though they represented the same subject, were the same. Each nascent artist brought a specific perspective when creating their painting.

Of course, an artist’s skill level also plays a role in the resulting piece. Do you know the most important skill any artist needs to hone? Observation.

Keen observation: the building block of artistic perspective!

Think about it. Even in the context of the painting party, each person’s ability to observe – the interrelation of the boat’s parts, how parallel lines converging give the illusion of depth and distance – in large part determined the success of the final product.

Observation + Perspective = Art

Poet and author Molly Peacock goes so far as to say that a poet’s skills are “noticing and comparing one thing to another.” She says a poet must become “an expert in observing.” I think this goes for all artists, whether their medium is poetry or dance, painting or song.

What an artist notices and what they think about that is the heart of any piece of artwork. If an artist is very skilled at observing and then expressing from their observations – well, they’ll have endless creative output! Plus, a skilled artist often brings to us new insight via their work.

If you want to read a delightful example of observation and perspective, look for American poet Alicia Suskin Ostriker’s book, The Old Woman, the Tulip and the Dog (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2014). It’s a collection of over 30 different poems, each written from three perspectives: that of an old woman, a tulip, and a dog.

Meanwhile, why not try practicing keen observation of what is in your world? Notice what you notice! Then express it somehow, even in a post-it note that you stick on your monitor. You just might begin to awaken your inner artist!

Until next time, here is my tribute to Ostriker: “Aging from Three Perspectives”.

Lee Ann

TAKING A SHOT

ByLee Ann

I don’t often use sports metaphors. I’m more of a face-in-a-book, dreamy, poem-writing type. But recently, I was sorting through a number of poems I’ve been working on and I decided I wanted to “do something” with a few of them. They didn’t suit being turned into Poetry Art – they were either too long, or didn’t have a suitable photo – so I decided to enter a poetry contest.

The Canadian Authors Association National Capital Region runs a contest every year; I’ve entered before, but not for quite a while. When I noticed this year’s judge was a poet I admire – Governor General Award winner Lorna Crozier – I started picking and polishing what I thought were my three best.

And I took a shot.

And here’s where the sports metaphor comes in.

You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.

Canadian hockey great Wayne Gretzky

What is not often quoted is what he said right after this:

… even though there is only a one to five percent possibility of scoring.

Here’s the thing. I felt a bloom of pride when I did the work, decided the work was worthy of a shot, and made the effort to submit. Even though this is a contest open to poets across the country, which made the possibility of my poems “scoring” one of the top three prizes about the same as Gretzky’s chance of scoring a goal.

But that’s OK. I picked and polished and submitted anyway. And I tell you: that bloom of pride is something to aspire to, something very worthwhile.

As it turned out, Canadian Authors notified me that one of my poems was shortlisted: one of six poems selected by Crozier as finalists. It went on to win second place in the contest.

This, of course, is a very big deal for me as a writer! I wanted to share my delight with you, yes. But more than that, I wanted to describe to you that blooming sense of pride that comes from doing the work – whatever that means to you – believing in the work, and taking one step towards making whatever you’ve worked on even bigger than it already is. I wanted to remind you to take the shot.

Do it!

Lee Ann

P.S. Thank you for your patience as we sorted out the lost subscriber list! If you are reading this, you don’t need to do anything to “re-subscribe,” you’re in!

If you had unsubscribed from my site in the past and suddenly got notification of this new post, my apologies; we had to cobble together a new list from past ones, so you inadvertently got re-subscribed. Of course, I’d love it if you stayed with me, but if you prefer, you can easily unsubscribe by clicking at the bottom of the email notice you received about this post. I’m truly sorry to see you go.

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THE CREATIVE PROCESS, PART 5: How Confinement Can Expand Creative Expression

ByLee Ann
This entry is part 5 of 11 in the series The Creative Process Unmasked

COVID has taught us something that I think relates to the creative process: being confined can lead to greater creative expression. We can’t get together with friends for dinner, so we sign up together for an interactive cooking class online. We have to wear masks everywhere we go, so we find some fabric that makes a statement or makes us smile. Europe is out of bounds, so we discover new places we didn’t know existed, right in our own neighbourhoods. This is how, in the pandemic world, confinement can lead to new creativity.

I am a poet whose typical style is free verse. By definition unstructured, free verse has few rules beyond those that relate to good writing. But sometimes I feel the need for a poetic structure with very specific rules. Surprisingly, it’s that very restriction that can expand the creative expression in a poem.

There are so many forms of structured verse that entire fine arts graduate courses are taught on this. Structure can be found in rhythm, in rhyming sequences and in the number of lines or stanzas in a poem, to name a few.

How Shakespeare Did It

For example, Shakespeare’s preferred rhythm structure is what is known as iambic pentameter. The best way to think of iambic pentameter is that it’s like a heartbeat. It goes like this: da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM. Here’s one of Shakespeare’s more famous lines in iambic pentameter (see if you can get the rhythm structure):

If music be the food of love, play on.

William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

Nice, eh? Shakespeare, of course, was a master of rhythm, using its structure to help express all kinds of different emotions.

When Every Syllable Counts

Haiku is a structure that consists of three lines, the first line with five syllables, the second line seven syllables, the third line five syllables. Here’s one that I wrote after my dad passed away:

LAMENT FOR MY DAD IN HAIKU FORMAT
We always ended
phone calls the same way. Now, for
all time: “love you, ‘bye.”

From the straightjacket of those three lines can come very big thoughts and emotion.

Repeating Lines

When I started writing my most recent COVID poem, I was feeling the squeeze of Ontario’s latest stay-at-home order. The first draft was in my usual free verse, but I was unhappy with the result. It did not convey the constriction I wanted to express, so I turned to structured verse. A pantoum uses four-line stanzas in which the second and fourth lines of each stanza serve as the first and third lines of the next stanza. The last line of a pantoum is often the same as the first.

Demanding? Yes. Constricting? Actually, no! I found that pantoum’s structure itself provided the sense of restriction I was feeling. That sense became an integral part of the poem, without me having to spell it out. So, structure allowed me to expand the creative expression in the poem, beyond what I could have done with free verse. This is how, in poetry, confinement can lead to new creativity.

I hope you’re finding innovative ways to live within the restrictions of COVID. Maybe this structured poem will help you to appreciate how sometimes, being confined can lead to greater creative expression. Here’s Hope and Chaos; I’d love to know what you think!

Lee Ann

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THE CREATIVE PROCESS UNMASKED: Part 4, Rest Time

ByLee Ann
This entry is part 4 of 11 in the series The Creative Process Unmasked

Hello there! I hope 2021 has been good to you so far. It’s winter time in my part of the world. To respect that, I am allowing myself a season of rest. That doesn’t mean doing nothing! But it does acknowledge the natural rhythm of the seasons. Winter is a time when energy levels are naturally a little lower, and hibernation is the theme. The winter season also reminds me of the value of rest time in the creative process.

My garden at rest, January 11, 2021

Issues With the Freshly Written

You may remember that last year I wrote several pandemic poems. (Maybe one or more of them struck a chord with you. Maybe they help you express what you might be feeling during the isolation. I hope so.) I had the opportunity to look again at these poems in November, when The Ontario Poetry Society held a Pandemic Poetry Contest. Well, I learned anew the importance of letting something newly-created rest for awhile before proceeding.

One poem in particular stood out. I had struggled with the ending of “Reframing the View” when I first wrote it. I wanted to lead the reader to a conclusion, but not dictate that conclusion, allowing each person to look at the accompanying photo and decide for themselves what they saw. This is always a challenge for a writer. You want to respect the reader’s intelligence by not spelling everything out and giving her a figurative hit-over-the-head. Yet readers do appreciate being led towards the writer’s intent and/or what they might conclude.

My writers’ group members (the insightful Lynn and Jen) told me the poem did not lead the reader quite far enough. Neither of them were entirely sure what they “got” from looking at the photo after reading the poem. When I looked again at the poem with several months’ distance to sharpen my view, I saw they were absolutely right as usual! And more to the point, I knew what I needed to write in order to fix the problem, which I couldn’t see when the poem was freshly written.

Why Artists “Let it Rest”

This is something that seasoned writers know well: to put something aside for a period of time, especially if it’s not working. That rest period will sharpen the general sense of unease and expose the specific flaws. More importantly, that time away will often result in the writer realizing what it will take to create a much finer piece… and by that I mean one that readers can respond to more strongly. And that connection is what every artist is striving for.

“Reframing the View” now leads the reader more directly. It also has a more structured “poetic turn” at the end. This is a technical term that poet Kim Addonicio describes as: “picks the reader up in one place and drops them off somewhere else.”

I’d love to hear what you think. Do you have a preference for one version over the other? Do you like poetic turns as much as I do? Were you surprised to learn about the value of rest time in the creative process?

By the way, “Reframing the View” (the words without the photo) was awarded an Honourable Mention in the Pandemic Poetry Contest and will be published in an upcoming anthology. Further encouragement for me to remember the importance of rest!

May this season’s slower pace help refresh you.

Lee Ann

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WHAT IS POETRY FOR?

ByLee Ann

This month’s post was going to be a few paragraphs to answer the question, “what is poetry for?” This is also the subject of this month’s poem, and after trying several times to write some paragraphs, I decided that my best answer to the question is in the poem itself. So here it is.

My other answer to “what is poetry for?” is more personal. Although I am the published author of historical non-fiction books, short stories and magazine articles, poetry is my first love and focus. It’s how I express. It’s what I turn to, to figure things out. It’s how I respond to my world, both internal and external.

Billie Holiday

Here’s a recent example. As I grind on and on coping with COVID (along with the entire world) I found myself putting my feelings into a new pandemic poem. This one is a bit different than the ones I wrote when the crisis was newly upon us. This one is a blues poem. Yes! There is such a thing as a blues poem. Like the musical genre, this form has its origins in the American Black experience. It has as its structure two repeating lines, then a third line, all with end-rhymes. Sorrow and heartache are staples in terms of content, but so is triumph over adversity and sometimes even humour.

I offer this to you today as part of my answer to “what is poetry for?” If it expresses some of what you are feeling too, or what you’ve experienced too, or what you might want to say to explain what it is like to live in these times… well, then, there’s your answer!

Here’s The New-Normal Blues. Hope it helps.

Lee Ann