Category Archives: poetry

What to write?

This question is not about this blog, but about writing in general. At present, I have only two writing projects in progress:

1. Type the harmony of the gospels I did off and on over a three year period ending in 2005, then go through it to look for gaps, redundancies, potential changes in order, etc. After the typing and editing is done, type explanatory notes for the harmony, only some of which are written in manuscript form. This is likely to take all year.

2. Work on my “Life On A Yo Yo” Bible study, of the life of Peter the apostle. This is planned, and I begin teaching it on Sunday Jan 4, 2009. This is more of a teaching project than a writing project, but I figure that every such project might become a writing project given the right amount of time and energy.

But what to do about a writing career? As I’ve reported before, it seems that life will never give me, short of my retirement planned for 8 years and 2 days from now, enough time to do all that writing demands: write, edit, improve my craft, research the market, research agents, pour time into submittals/proposals/query letters/etc., follow-up on those, and prepare for the marketing work I would have to do should I become published. All this makes a writing career a pipe dream for now.

So I have an unfinished second novel, In Front Of Fifty Thousand Screaming People, that must remain unfinished. I have a completed first novel, Doctor Luke’s Assistant, which, having earned about ten rejections, must remain in the reject pile for the moment. I have my completed poetry book, Father Daughter Day, which, defying all rules of genre and degree of religiosity, sits in exile upon a closet shelf. My non-fiction book Screwtape’s Good Advice, has only one rejection, but finding time to tailor the proposal to new editors or agents seems, in light of the current state of publishing, an effort in futility. My newspaper column, Documenting America, being a good but unique work The long list of other novels, other non-fiction books, magazine articles, etc. will just have to remain in the ideas notebook for now.

What will the next twelve months hold as far as writing goes? Stay tuned.

The People Have Spoken

The election on November 4 was a clear signal, I believe, from the American people. They don’t like the job the Bush administration has done, and John McCain was not seen as a better alternative. Hence Barak H. Obama is our president-elect. I hope he has a successful presidency, and that my fears of an 8-year economic slowdown/recession/depression about to take place as a follow-up to the Panic of 2008 (which I believe will happen regardless of who had been elected president) will not happen.

I notice the Democratic gains in the Senate were about in line with expectation, while the gains in the house were a bit below expectation. Still, the gains were clear. That is surprising given Congress’ low approval rating as determined by pollsters, but is further evidence of backlash against Bush.

While some non-professional pundits are saying this is the end of the Republican party, I think that death certificate is pre-mature.

The main negative I have heard in the last two days is that potential Republican hopefuls for 2012 are already making plans to head to Iowa. How sad we must be in a perpetual election cycle.

October Report

Time to see how I did against my goals.

1. Attend 1 meeting of my critique group. It will meet three times this month, but I’m not sure I want to devote six hours (or ten hours including driving) to this activity this month. Did this; attended the first meeting of the month.

2. Complete my submission log. I came close a couple of months ago. An hour should suffice for this. Did this, including for the rejection I received mid-month, 14 months after I submitted the poem.

3. Contact the editor who has had The Screwtape Letters study guide, mailed three months ago today. Did this; the editor came back with a rejection (duly recorded), and we had a nice, brief e-mail exchange.

4. Continue to cull through the many writing-help items I have printed from Internet sites. Read or scan as appropriate, and discard anything not absolutely essential. I actually finished this, I think. I have freed up five notebooks at home and three at work, which formerly held printed material I felt would be helpful in a writing career. Some of these I had never read, and I read them all as I discarded them. Okay, a few of them, which I’d read before, I only skimmed. I am now down to one notebook at home that contains the essential advice for submittals. That’s all I’m keeping.

5. Add a few (say three or four) posts to the poetry workshop I started at the Absolute Write poetry discussion forum. I added some to this; not sure if as many as three or four; probably only one or two.

6. Gather all my writing, all the scraps and sheets that contain things as small as haiku or as long as chapters, into one place and file them as appropriate. I’m not really too far from having this done. I think three hours might be enough. This is somewhat far along, but not quite done. I think I have everything together that was at the house. Some of that is not quite properly filed, but is AT the place where it needs to be for filing. I ran out of file folders, and haven’t bought more yet.

7. Plod along, as time, energy, and motivation allow, on three writing projects: the Elijah and Elisha Bible study; In Front Of Fifty Thousand Screaming People (maybe write one more chapter); and the Documenting America column. Although I’m not planning to market it at this time, I don’t want to abandon it totally. I didn’t do much on these; in fact, I might not have done anything on these three writing projects, except maybe write a page or two on the E&E study. I worked on other projects (only a little), and captured some thoughts for potential future projects.

8. Post 10 to 12 times to this blog. Thirteen posts, so this was a success.

Alignment

You hear of stars aligning, and astrologers will say that means something. Or you will hear someone say, “The stars must have been aligned for me!” Well, tonight events align for me. Significant events; events that demand my immediate attention, that will consume the evening.

Yes, today is payday, and in today’s mail will be my monthly bank statement. So tonight I get to balance the checkbook, see what bills have to be paid (or automatic payments recorded), and plan out my budget for the month ahead. Rarely do these two events come on the same day of the month. I will also use this occasion to enter several months’ worth of expenses into my budget tracking spreadsheet. So the evening will be consumed with the mundane.

Oh, you were expecting these events to be something momentous? Expecting me to announce a book deal, or some other publication acceptance? Sorry to disappoint. The mundane, common-place events of life govern, I’m afraid. In this regard I think of Charles Lamb, on of my favorite authors, a Romantic-era essayist and man of belles lettres. He worked at the East India House as a clerk, and did his writing on the side. His job was not strenuous, nor his hours long by today’s standards. Yet he always claimed his real work were not his essays, poems, and letters, but rather the endless ledgers in which he recorded endless sums for endless ships with endless imports.

So, perhaps, may it be with me. The works I shall be known for will not be the poems, essays, or novels I hack out in 30 minutes stretches on work day evenings or two hour blocks on weekends. No, it will be volumes of construction specifications, engineering reports, training class notes, internal e-mails and thousands of business letters. These are my works, world. Look upon them and despair.

Don’t mind me. Received a rejection last night, for a poem I submitted eleven months ago, and had long written off. I’m surprised it came, because it had the old postage on it.

And my key board here at work is acting up. Many letters I have to pound twice to get the pixels to behave, and the space bar is spaced out.

Book Review: The Ode Less Travelled

The next book on my reading list was The Ode Less Travelled: Unlocking The Poet Within, by Stephen Fry, 2005, Gotham Books, ISBN 1-592-40248-8. I won this book, the second place prise for the February 2008 sonnet contest at Absolute Write. I began reading it less than a month ago, and finished just this afternoon.

This is a teaching book, a primer on writing poetry. No, that’s not exactly right: it’s a primer on writing formal poetry–that is, metrical poems in rhyme, typically to some specific form. Here are a couple of excerpts from the author’s Forward.

“I believe poetry is a primal impulse within us all. I believe we are all capable of it and furthermore that a small, often ignored corner of us positively yearns to try it. I believe our poetic impulse is blocked by the false belief that poetry might on the one hand be academic and technical and on the other formless and random.”

“I have written this book because over the past thirty-five years I have derived enormous private pleasure from writing poetry and like anyone with a passion I am keen to share it.”

Fry does this by focusing totally on formal poetry. Free verse is not mentioned, not even as something he plans not to cover. He begins with a 121 page discussion of meter, describing all the metrical feet, how they are put together in lines, and how lines can be grouped for metrical effect. He next covers rhyme, 66 pages worth: the basics of end rhyme and internal; full rhymes, partial rhymes, and identical rhymes; couplets, triplets, envelope rhymes, interlocking rhymes, cross rhymes. Next is a long section, 136 pages, on various forms. He begins with defining stanzas, and then defines a bunch of forms and discusses them: terza rima, quatrains, rubai, rhyme royal, ottava rima, Spenserian stanza, ballad, heroic verse, odes, villanelles, sestinas, pantoums, ballades, rondeau and its many cousins, etc. Last is a short chapter on poetic diction and poetics today.

I find much to commend in this book, and much to fault. In an era dominated by free verse and the “poetry as emotional release crowd”, I find the emphasis on formal poetry refreshing, especially the section on meter. Fry also emphasises that modern poetry should have modern diction. He speaks against what he calls “wrenched syntax” just for the sake of meter and rhyme–I like that, as I believe poetry should be written in the language of the era in which it is written.

I found some things I disagree with, that were treated either shallowly or were, IMHO, inappropriate for a primer on poetry.

– The section on forms contained too many forms, and hence they were not treated either sufficiently or well. What makes for writing a good poem in that form was never discussed, only the specifications for the form.
– There was no discussion of free verse. I understand, by its content, that the book was about formal poetry. But not having stated that, the impression is given that only formal poetry is poetry and free verse is not. I’m a formalist, but I found this handling of free verse somewhat baffling.
– The order of the book seemed backwards to me. The discussion of poetic diction and the condition of poetry today should have been first, since poetic diction is common to all poems, formal and free, metrical and non, etc.
– The book had no discussion of the line as the fundamental element of poetry, nor of metaphor, simile, figures of speech, imagery, personification, and many other poetic devices. Some of these should certainly be in a primer on writing poetry.
– As I mentioned, there was little discussion on poetic quality, or regardless of formal verse or free; what makes for a good poem? You won’t learn that by reading this book.
– Fry uses his own, “made-up” poems to demonstrate most forms. Sometimes he uses the poems of others, but not often. This was somewhat annoying, though I think part of Fry’s argument: See how easy it is, with just a little knowledge.
– The book has some cursing. This is almost all towards the end, with increasing frequency the closer you got to the end. It’s as if Fry knew cursing would turn some people off, and held off with using it till the readers was well into the book and hooked. The book could have easily been written without it, and this fact alone will limit the number of people to whom I can recommend the book.

And I can recommend the book, though with cautions. It does not give a beginner’s treatment to the broad spectrum of the poetry world, but rather to a small part of it. And, it is unlikely to be much help by itself. The one who desires to learn how to write poetry will need to find other books to supplement this one.

A New "Research" Project

This morning I meant to post a report of a short book I finished, something not on my official reading list. I wrote some notes for the review last night, then laid them and the book next to the portfolio I carry to work each day. Alas, this morning, when I finished devotions at my desk, poured and doctored coffee, and opened my portfolio, the notes and book were not there. I suppose in my normal, strict routine way of getting out of the house in the morning, looking on the kitchen table for something out of the ordinary I was supposed to pick up was too much. That will teach me to go one tiny step further in the evening and put the non-standard item in the portfolio rather than next to it.

So what to do in my personal time, after devotions, at my desk? I have finished culling printed writing materials from notebooks, so nothing to do there. I was not ready to again pick up John Wesley’s letters and take up where I left off somewhat more than a month ago (expect a future post on that). Reviewing Absolute Write for a poem to critique or a political discussion to burst in on revealed nothing I had to do. But there, in my favorites in Internet Explorer, was the folder titled “Carlyle” and in it the link to The Carlyle Letters Online, hosted by Duke University. A few clicks, making decisions on what to read, found me at a letter from Carlyle to Leigh Hunt in June 1833. I decided on a letter to Hunt because I recently posted for critique my parody of Hunt’s famous poem “Jenny Kissed Me”. If my readers can stand this affectation, here’s my parody.

Hunter Licked Me

Hunter licked me on the nose,
showing me his deep affection.
Whimpering, this dachshund knows
who provided food and protection.
Tell me that my poems won’t sell,
that no muse has ever picked me.
Call me crazy, but then yell
Hunter licked me.

I read the letter from Carlyle to Hunt, and decided, “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a collection of letters between Hunt and Carlyle much as I have between Emerson and Carlyle?” So I decided to start one. I copied that letter–including footnotes and source citations, and dumped it into a MS Word document. Some formatting was needed, to put it in my typical compressed yet readable layout (trying to save a tree or two, you know), and making the footnotes real footnotes rather than embedded things at the end of the letter.

All of that took little time, so I decided to do some more. I went to the Index By Recipient, and found one more to Hunt in the 1832-34 time frame. This puzzled me, because I expected more than this. So I went to the chronological list and found a number of letters in this time frame, including the first, a brief Carlyle note to Hunt about receiving a book of his from Hunt’s publisher. By the time my work day officially started (okay, I may have done my personal stuff 15 minutes too long, but I’ll make it up this evening), I had fourteen pages of Carlyle to Hunt.

So what am I going to do with this? Don’t know yet. And I have to see if I can find Leigh Hunt’s letters on line. I know they’ve been published, but haven’t yet looked for them. I suppose you could call this a “reading and research” project. But it’s more than that. It is entertainment for me. And it should also, should I really read these letters, help with the brain atrophy I’m trying to overcome.

Mainly Reading

This past weekend I went to Oklahoma City to visit with daughter, son-in-law, and grandbaby Ephraim. I went with my mother-in-law, my wife being already there. We had a good time, a combination of baby-sitting and visiting. An excellent church service on Sunday, where son-in-law Richard preached on Philippians 4:4-9. First he read a story for the children before they were dismissed for children’s church, about a boy named Alexander (I think) who was having a no good, horrible, terrible bad day–with a couple of other adjectives thrown in. His adult sermon was on the same theme. Since I have had a lot of them lately (bad days, not sermons), his sermon spoke to me.

I need to get out of the doldrums; and I shall. It will just take time. I’ve mainly been reading as a means of pulling myself up. I finished a small book (not on the official reading list) for Life Group, Moses: A Model of Pioneer Vision by Chuck Swindoll, which I shall soon review in a post to this blog. I’m also working through The Ode Less Travelled by Stephen Fry. This is a book on how to write formal poetry, which I won in a sonnet writing contest. I’m about three or four days from finishing it, and will review it on this blog when finished.

As I read this last night, in the chapters dealing with various forms of poetry, I found myself suddenly beset with a mild case of Sidelines Syndrome. This hasn’t hit me for a while, so maybe this is a good sign of coming out of my funk. I put the book aside–since I could no more concentrate on it–and began writing two poems. I know, poetry would be the worst possible thing to turn to if I have any hopes of being published, but at least it was something for my writing.

We’ll see what happens tonight. We are supposed to have rain, so I’ll be stuck in the house, nothing important will be on television, I don’t really have to play mindless computer games, and maybe, just maybe, my brain muscles are starting to strengthen. Can a new chapter be far away?

Trying to get engaged

For some time now I have not been applying myself wholeheartedly to anything. At work, I have been in a position that doesn’t require significant application of brain power. As senior engineer in the company, I’m assisting people on their more difficult problems. I’m coordinating training courses, and on occasion teach one. That has taken up a lot more time than I expected it to do. But it’s easy. Make calls, send e-mails, repeat. I spend a lot of time on what I call research and development, studying new trends in our business, taking notes, plan some training, write some simple design guides or specifications–most enjoyable, but not brain taxing.

For the last several weeks I have disengaged from writing. All I’m doing is organizing, filing, and typing a few things I wrote some time ago. I’m also back-checking the latest round of edits on Doctor Luke’s Assistant before discarding the mark-ups. I was working on some new Bible studies to write, but I’ve set those aside as well. Oh, yes, I also wrote a couple of haiku over the last weeks. These were not simple 5-7-5 ones, but rather well-thought out for the fundamental haiku elements.

Work around the house doesn’t take much effort, nor does the reading list I’m going through. So I have felt my brain slowly disengaging. Certainly at work it is somewhat, and now off work it is as well. This is a terrible feeling in a way, for I have always had my brain engaged in many things; scattering concentrated thought around many projects. Now it seems the toughest thing I have to decide is whether to keep a certain piece of paper or not, and if kept where to file it. I wrote a triolet about this sort of thing last November:

Conflicted

I long to live that day when I will rest,
and cease to tax my brain. Then I will die
and stand before my Maker. Yet, I’m blessed;
I long to live! The day that I will rest
is somewhere out there, far beyond the quest
that now demands I try, and fail, and try.
I long to live that day when I will rest
and cease to tax my brain, then I will die.

But beginning last week, really Friday of the week before that, I began working on a project at work I had put off for a long time. It required learning a new computer program, and what I feared would be tedious work depicting a large drainage basin for calculating flood flows. Only one person in the office knew the program, and I didn’t think he knew it much. While waiting on him to answer an e-mail of a request for help, I worked on learning the program myself through reading the manual and just trying stuff. I got pretty far along, far enough to enter a dummy project and get it to run. I finally had this training session and it turned out the guy didn’t know any more than I did at that stage.

As I feared, the work is extremely tedious. It requires me to really think about what I am doing. My brain as a consequence has rebelled. By the time I finish a full day of working on that, I have nothing left to think at home. Hence I have been reading, doing a few of these simple writing things, and playing mindless computer games. For an hour or more.

My hope is that this difficult project at work will be like exercise for my brain. Can the brain atrophy, like one of the voluntary muscles? When I cease to tax my brain, will I then die–intellectually if not physically? Hmmm, enquiring minds want to know. Hopefully this will turn out to be good for me. Maybe a few more days of having to use my brain the full eight hours at work will strengthen it, and I will find myself with something left in the skull come evening. Hey, this evening I had enough left to write this post.

The June Report

Although I did not set any goals at the beginning of the month, I think I should give a report on my stewardship as a writer during the past month. If one is called, one should be a steward of that call. This month I accomplished the following in my writing.

My main activities were following up on the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference in May. This included: a large number of e-mails to faculty and fellow conferencees; recording of expenses and proper filing of receipts; filing of conference materials.

I worked on two of the three proposals requested of by an editor and an agent. One is down to final edits (tonight, I hope); another is almost complete. The third one I will start on tomorrow. This will be a main project for July. The other requested item, a couple of page outline of a mystery series I have in mind, will follow the last proposals (translated: nothing done on these last two items this month). However, I did finish the research for the third proposal subject matter.

I found a new critique group and began attending this month. It meets every-other week; I attended both weeks available, and received good feedback on the two chapters of In Front of Fifty Thousand Screaming People that I shared.

I wrote two poems: one haiku, which I posted for critique and pretty much finished; and one rhyming, metrical poem not to any pattern. This one is simmering, waiting for additional self-editing, then posting for critique.

Critiqued seven poems at Absolute Write poetry forums. Each of these was a thought out critique, with a fair amount of time in it.

Read in several books that will add to my writing efforts. This included: The Letters of John Wesley, The Lost Letters of Pergamum (re-read), the letters between Ralph Waldo Emerson and Thomas Carlyle, Dune by Frank Herbert (about 1/3 the way through), and several on-line helps for writers.

And, blogged here quite a few times.

All in all, a productive month.

The Message of the Un-Said

In my study of 2nd Kings 4:8-37 this week, as I finished preparations to teach it in our adult Life Group today, I was struck by how well the story was crafted. The full story came out only when I examined what the author didn’t say–which I learned by examining what he said and filling in gaps, examining factors of time and space, and assessing motives of people based on what little the author told.

I’ve thought about this before as I have critiqued poems at the Absolute Write poetry forums. The poet has presented us with a few lines for some purpose. He/she made choices of what to include in–and exclude from–the poem. Looking at the inclusion is easy, for the few words are there for me to pick apart, to ponder as a series of lines and as a complete work. Exclusion is harder to evaluate. What has the poet chosen to leave out? The choices are as broad as the language itself, as deep as human experiences of body, soul and spirt, though clearly narrowed by the context of what is included. I only do this occasionally, for the exercise can be very time consuming and mentally draining. I actually wrote one poem using this method, consciously thinking inclusion-exclusion as I wrote each line.

Back to 2nd Kings 4, and the story of Elisha and the woman from Shunem. How much the author has said by what he has not said! I must digress briefly to consider the nature of writing in antiquity. Paper, in the form of scrolls made from papyrus strips laboriously cut, wetted, woven, dried, and trimmed, was expensive. Ink, made up of fire ashes, water, and other ingredients, was expensive. The writing process, without the benefit of computers, typewriters, erasers, even cut and paste, was difficult. Dissemination of the completed work, through manual copying and hand delivery, was both expensive and difficult. I think writers must have learned that every word counted; hence repetition, fleshing out of characters, and back story were all kept to a minimum. We actually have a story significantly condensed from what could have been written. Often I wish the Bible were ten times longer than it is, doubling he length of the stories it has and giving five times the number of stories. Ah, but better it is as it is, methinks.

Back to the story, this passage includes five characters: Elisha, his servant Gehazi, the man and wife from Shunem, and their son, born following Elisha’s prophecy. The actions of Elisha, Gehazi, and the Shunammite woman are somewhat well described, though even for them some inclusion-exclusion analysis aids in understanding the passage. The husband, however, must be the strong, silent type, for we hear little from him. We know that he was responsive to his wife’s requests for building a rooftop room for Elisha, and for the donkey and servant to go visit Elisha. Otherwise, we see him only in the matter of his young son becoming sick while they were out in the fields with the reapers: he sends him back to his mother.

Consider, however, what we can learn about the husband from these actions of the wife, or by the actions of others.

  • He did not invite the traveller Elisha to the hospitality of a meal; possibly he was out in the fields when Elisha came to town.
  • He didn’t think about building the room for Elisha, to better aid the man of God in his travels.
  • Elisha didn’t ask what could be done for him, but what could be done for his wife. It appears, by this, that he did not develop much of a relationship with Elisha.
  • After his son died, and his wife went to see Elisha (having hidden the boy’s death and her grief from her husband), he doesn’t seem to have enquired about the boy, hasn’t found his body in the prophet’s room, hasn’t arranged for his burial.

From this, we can draw interesting conclusions about the Shunammite husband. He is somewhat absorbed in his work, not even bothering to develop a relationship with the premier man of God in Israel who regularly sleeps under his roof; he seems to love his wife and is responsive to her requests, but their relationship is best described as strange.

I have more to write on this, but the post is too long now. I will try to get back to this tomorrow, or the next day.