(Okay, I'm going to try posting this again. Apparently, this blog is anti-villanelle.)

Earlier this year, Tammy and I took Baby Will with us to his first poetry event, a reading by Cherryl Floyd-Miller at Wordsmiths Books in Decatur, Georgia. Sadly, Wordsmiths has since closed, but Cherryl was nice enough to be interviewed for the Poetic Asides blog.

Her most recent collection of poems, Exquisite Heats, was published in 2008 by Salt Publishing. Cherryl is a native of the Carolinas and has published two other poetry collections: Utterance: A Museology of Kin and Chops. In addition to poetry, Cherryl is also a playwright and fiber artist.

Here's a favorite poem of mine from Exquisite Heats:

Voodoo Chicken

Gots me hanker. Gots me squall, peeping tall-Tom
at your lovely, in your throat, and the itch,
hellcat itch, of it rides me like a witch
into the nights, those crafty nights, no calm
will come. You just a mule teeth puppet show.
Stop and go. Chickenhearted to the core,
you say don't cross the line or crack the door.
How sweetmeat, milk. How navy black. How crow.

But love has stayed and love is made, is all
is with, for. We almost did, just about,
said we (nohow) wouldn't (nungh-ungh) fall.
This moot jinx so far in, it's inside out.
We say we won't. But reckon do. Yak. Stall
for if. Wait for good-good. Gut in. Ass out.

*****

What are you up to?

I am helping a friend build a strong healthcare firm, writing lots of persona poems, finding very interesting ways of writing verse plays and verse narrative ... and (ah, yes) -- quilting. I am truly enjoying this "season" of myself.

You live in the U.S., but your publisher for Exquisite Heats is based in the United Kingdom. How did you go about publishing this collection?

I will have to give credit for my publication through Salt ... to Salt. Chris Hamilton-Emery is an amazing and supportive publisher. He takes the risks others won't take, says the things others won't say and publishes other risk-takers others have not seemed to publish. A poet/scholar friend suggested my work; Chris asked for a manuscript; he liked the work; and we evolved to a contract and a collection of poems. I am deeply grateful for the ways in which Salt shows it believes in me and my *voice*. The faith Chris seems to have in me as an intelligent person and an artist is the kind of faith I've found only one other place: the Fulton County Arts Council in Atlanta and its Deputy Director, Val Porter.

In Exquisite Heats, your work incorporates a variety of poetic forms. Could you speak a little on using poetic forms in your writing?

Ah ... poetic forms. They are helpful play things; by that, I mean it has aided my poem-building skills tremendously to be knowledgeable about forms and make conscious decisions about using them in my work. I've found the most gifted and compelling poets to be those who know the rules and deliberately break them in order to keep their own voices intact. At this stage in my own evolution, the use of forms is both conscious and subconscious. Most of the time I know exactly what I've done after I've done it; but I'm at my best when I don't know what I'm doing while I'm doing it. Poetic forms for me are a good musical instrument to ensure this "band" called my body of work can jam as long and hard as it likes. But I'll be a traitor and leave the forms on the side of the stage if the poem instructs me to do so. Forms come often in my work, but I'm not a slave to them. My only allegiance is to the poem.

Do you use critique groups—or a network of other poets—to help with early drafts of poems?

I don't use critique groups as much as I used to about five to eight years ago. I have trusted eyes and ears who can hear new drafts at any time of the day and give me honest feedback. Usually, these are writers who have known me and my work for a long time and have earned my respect and trust. I'm not closed to critique groups, but I am leery of group dynamics and individual dramas that can be a bit distracting to the purpose of gathering: work.

In your bio for Exquisite Heats, it’s mentioned that you’ve received several grants and fellowships for your writing. Any application tips for other poets who may apply for grants or fellowships?

Yes ... apply. It may sound strange to give this as advice, but many people don't even fill out the application and wonder why they can't get grants. Other tips:

1) Be sure you really want it. Don't apply just for the money. Make sure your values align with the org or individual who is awarding the money, and make sure you believe in what the grant asks of you.

2) Apply again, if you don't get an award the first time you apply. Sometimes, missing a grant or fellowship has nothing to do with your talent or your perfect application. It has to do with timing, the number of other talented applicants and whether or not you come across as credible on paper.

3) Do what the grantors ask. This means meet deadlines, do the accompanying essay, and have a solid plan to do what you say you're going to do with the money. Having been both a grant recipient and a grant reviewer, I can truly say, if you're not sincere, it comes through loud and clear that you're not sincere.

Your bio mentions you’re a fiber artist. In what forms of fiber arts do you work?

I am a quilter who uses techniques of collage, crochet, knitting and mixed media formats. I have no formal training in any of this. I learned quilting at my paternal grandmother's feet at age 7. I learned crochet from my maternal grandmother at age 9. I've experimented with everything else enough to be *confident* about what I create. I explore the same themes in fiber art as I do in poetry: women, the South, folklore, sound music in language, myths, non-linear structures and magical realism. Much of the way I approach art is really about not wasting a single thing. Even the words you cut from a poem or the scraps you create when you cut the fabric of a quilt can be used somewhere else.

Who are you currently reading?

Two voices I think many of us have forgotten: Dolores Kendrick and Sherley Anne Williams. I am also reading a variety of modern verse plays because I'm curious about what others are doing with the form.

If you could pass on only one piece of advice for other poets, what would it be?

Write! And then write some more. When you feel like you truly (((can))) *quit* writing, then you should quit ...

*****

To learn more about Cherryl's collection Exquisite Heats and her publisher Salt Publishing, go to www.saltpublishing.com.

*****

Are you a poet or publisher looking for free publicity? Then, check out what you need to do to be considered for a Poetic Asides interview by clicking here.

It's not every day that I get an opportunity to interview a former poet laureate. So when I was afforded the chance to read Patricia Fargnoli's Duties of the Spirit (Tupelo Press), I jumped at the chance to interview the former New Hampshire Poet Laureate (her term ended earlier this year).

Though Fargnoli is a retired psychotherapist, she just published her first collection of poems Necessary Light (Utah State University Press) in 1999. And has made her presence felt in the poetry community in a very short period of time with another full-length collection and chapbook in the same 10-year span. Oh yeah, Fargnoli is also in the final stages of publishing another collection with Tupelo Press.

Here's one of my favorites (I have many) from Duties of the Spirit:

The Undeniable Pressure of Existence

I saw the fox running by the side of the road
past the turned-away brick faces of the condominiums
past the Citco gas station with its line of cars and trucks
and he ran, limping, gaunt, matted dull haired
past Jim's Pizza, past the Wash-O-Mat
past the Thai Garden, his sides heaving like bellows
and he kept running to where the interstate
crossed the state road and he reached it and ran on
under the underpass and beyond it past the perfect
rows of split-levels, their identical driveways
their brookless and forestless yards,
and from my moving car, I watched him,
helpless to do anything to help him, certain he was beyond
any aid, any desire to save him, and he ran loping on,
far out of his element, sick, panting, starving,
his eyes fixed on some point ahead of him,
some possible salvation
in all this hopelessness, that only only he could see.

*****

What are you currently up to?

On March 22, I finished my 3 1/2-year term as New Hampshire's Poet Laureate.   And my new book, Then, Something, which is due to be published in fall by Tupelo Press, is at the publishers and soon to go into production.  We've already decided on the cover.  I've also recently finished work with two private tutorial students...all of which should mean that I could rest a while, and, hopefully, turn my energies toward writing new work. But March's calendar is full of readings I want to attend and lunches with poet/friends and teaching my private class.  And April's only a little freer.  The last week in April and the beginning of May I'm going to The Dorset Writer's Colony in Vermont for a week  (and would go longer if I didn't have a cat and no one for him to live with in my absence).  In June, I'm teaching at an Elderhostel for a week, and leading an Ekphrasis workshop in July and a workshop for Teachers in August.  In between, I'm giving a couple of readings....and will be working at proofreading my manuscript for the press...and writing a reader's guide. Whew!  Would you believe I've been "retired" for 10 years now?

You've just recently finished up a stint as New Hampshire's Poet Laureate. What were your duties? Were you able to accomplish everything you wanted?

As poet laureate, I had no official duties.  Some poet laureates do a little or nothing; some do a lot. I like that what I did was left entirely up to me so that I could use the skills and interests I have in the way I wanted to.  I'd decided from the outset that I wanted to do something for children, something for libraries and something for New Hampshire poets.  And I'm proud that I accomplished all three. With the support of the NH State Library, The Writer's Project and the NH Council on the Arts, I was able to recruit 43 poet-volunteers from around the state, and to organize a "Children's Poetry Day in the Libraries Day" the first April after I was elected. The Governor issued a proclamation proclaiming April 14th as statewide "Children's Poetry Day;"  and each volunteer put on a program for children in a library near him/her.  We published articles in almost every regional magazine promoting the importance of poetry in children's lives and served about 350 children and parents on that day.

I also initiated (again with the help of Art Council personnel) a "New Hampshire Poets Showcase" link to the Arts Council website.  Every two weeks we featured a new NH poet with a poem, bio, photo, links and a paragraph about how their poem came to be. 

I also did readings and workshops around the state and attended civil functions occasionally. And I delivered a poem at the Governor's Inauguration.

When I look back at what I accomplished I'm amazed that I could do it.  I had reservations about accepting the position in the beginning because of some chronic health problems that have limited my mobility and energy.  But I'm glad I didn't turn it down; the position was life-enriching. I made many friends and have some wonderful memories.

When and why did you begin publishing poetry?

I began writing and studying poetry seriously when I was in my mid-30's in a graduate class with Brendan Galvin at Central CT State University.  Along with 7 other women who became my close friends (and are to this day), I took the class for several years.  My first poems were published in Tendril (which has been gone for years) and Poet Lore.  In fact, Brendan sent out my work to Tendril without telling me and when, one of the poems was accepted, he called me from his vacationing on Cape Cod to give me the news.

I was hooked.  I've always loved poetry and had written it earlier...publishing in the high school newspaper etc., but I knew nothing then about contemporary poetry and the only two poets' names I was familiar with were Sylvia Plath and Robert Lowell.  However, it was many years later, when I was 62, that I published my first book, Necessary Light, after Mary Oliver chose it as the May Swenson Award winner.

The "why" is harder to explain.  Besides the love of poetry, there's the challenge of getting what can't be easily said into words; the thrill of connecting in a deep way to readers,  the adrenaline rush when you open an acceptance letter and the way writing a poem can somehow make sense of your life.

Do you have any method to where and when you submit your poems?

Hmmm.  I usually submit about 3 times a year....in late September,  January, and maybe June (to those journals that accept summer submissions).  But this isn't rigid and if I have some poems I want to send out and have the time, I'll send them.  I have a list of journals I'd like to have my poems in...a rather long list.  Over the years, I've subscribed to many of them and I know what kind of work they take.  I believe strongly that poets shouldn't be expecting editors to publish them if they, themselves, aren't supporting the work of presses, literary journals, and other poets.

I only occasionally do simultaneous submissions because it's hard to keep track of them. But I do them more lately because I am 71 and time is passing far too quickly...I can't afford to wait a year to hear results anymore...especially since the competition is so fierce and rejection so frequent.  And when I do submit simultaneously, I don't send to more than 3 journals at a time, or to journals that don't accept them.   But other than that, I have no specific method.

Duties of the Spirit (Tupelo Press) won the Jane Kenyon Poetry Book Award and your first collection Necessary Light (Utah State University Press) won the May Swenson Book Award. What do you think makes a good collection?

Oh Robert, it is so, so subjective!  I've several times been a judge or early-round judge of a book competition so I've read hundreds of manuscripts and I can tell what impresses me....though it probably would be different for someone else.  At the top of my list is "Vision."   I mean that the book presents the poet's unique way of looking at the world....some fragment of the whole.  And the poems must "matter" and, when taken together, seem like a cohesive whole (even though there may be single poems that are different from most of the others)....I don't have patience with the superficial or pretentious language that reveals nothing when you look under it.  I look for depth.  Craft matters to me greatly. And once I gave top prize to a book (a novel in verse) mainly because I fell in love with the "voice" of the protagonist. (He was an ironic everyman.) Of course, the craft was impeccable too.

What do you look for in a good poem?

Depth, beauty, spirit, craft, sound, humanity.  Sometimes fracturing and remaking of reality, so that I as a reader can see a thing newly. Some news to help me understand my own life and its meaning.

In Duties of the Spirit, you deal with nature and aging--even confronting death. These topics are big and well-traveled, yet you make them your own. I'm sure part of your success comes back to revision. So, how much time do you commit to revision? And how do you know a poem is done?

Revision is, for me, the process by which a poem comes into being. My early drafts are terrible.  I often overwrite pushing myself past all the voices in my head that say "Ugh" just in order to get words onto the page where they can be worked at.  I then will do maybe 3 or 4 quick revisions and put it away for at least a few days.  Then I work at it again.  If I can get it into what begins to feel to me like a poem and I'm as far as I can go, I'll bring it to one of my workshops (there are 2; one of them is online). That usually results in another revision. I have what I call my "WP file,"  which stands for "Working Poems."   The revised draft (if I'm still not satisfied which is usually the case) goes into that file...and periodically, I'll pull it up and work some more.

In later drafts, often, I'm picking at single words, or perhaps upping the ante on a phrase that feels flat...or experimenting with shifting the order around or changing line-breaks...that kind of thing.  I've often worked this way on a poem for years before I'm satisfied...if I ever am. And even when I send out a poem, I'll later revise it... or even after it's published.  I don't know when a poem is done....it's mostly just let go.

I think of revision as being like a sculptor with a block of marble.  The poet chips and chips away at the poem until the real poem (hopefully) emerges from the block of words.

Who (or what) have you been reading recently?

I read poetry every day...and not just a little. I have 7 bookcases (3 of them tall ones) in my 2 room apartment and they are all filled with books of poetry. I spend more on poetry than I do on anything else except food and rent.  Currently on my bedstand (which means I'm reading them) are: Robert Hass Time and Materials (which I'm reading for the second time); Mary Oliver's New Evidence; Louise Gluck's Averno (also reading for the 2nd time); Borges This Craft of Verse; Rebecca Seiferle, Bitters; BAP, Charles Wright, ed;  Henri Coles, Blackbird and Wolf; Charles Bennett's How to Make a Woman Out of Water; Ruth Stone's What Love Comes to; The Making of A Sonnet, Edward Hirsch and Eavan Boland; Dante's Divine Comedy; and the current issues of several journals: The Georgia Review, Shenandoah,The Harvard Review and The American Poetry Journal.

On order are Ann Fisher-Wirth's Carta Marina and Jack Gilbert's new book (which I've forgotten the name of).

If you could offer only one piece of advice to your fellow poets, what would it be?

Read, read, read, and support other poets, publishers and the poetry community.

*****

To learn more about Patricia Fargnoli, check out her website at www.patriciafargnoli.com.

Skeltonic verse is named after the poet John Skelton (1460-1529), who wrote short rhyming lines that just sort of go on from one rhyme to the next for however long you wish to take it. Most skeltonic poems average less than six words a line, but keeping the short rhymes moving down the page is the real key to this form.

Here's my attempt at one:

"My weekend with Tammy"

We perused
all the shoes
in Syracuse
and then cut my hair
until little was there,
and everyone stared,
though I didn't care--
more focused on wining
and elegant dining
with Tammy opining
she'd rather go mining
in the mountains for coal;
so we had a new goal,
but somebody stole
our beautiful car
delivered from Mars
(made from old stars
after the alien wars);
instead, we decided to sit
and not throw a fit
or pout or spit
(our plan already quit)
at the crowded park
where we waited 'til dark
for the invisible balloon
to carry us soon
to the crescent moon
where we'll live until June.

In anticipation of National Poetry Month, here are some poetic forms to investigate and/or play with. I know forms can seem a little intimidating for some, but they can often lead you to unexpected destinations with your writing.

• Abstract (or Sound) Poetry
  
• Acrostic Poems
  
• Alphabet Poetry
  
• Anagrammatic Poetry
  
• Concrete Poems
  
• Elegy
  
• Epitaphs
  
• Fibonacci Poetry
  
• Found Poetry
  
• Haiku
  
• Hay(na)ku
  
• Insult Poetry
  
• Kyrielle
  
• Limericks
  
• List Poems
  
• Occasional Poems
  
• Odes
  
• Pantoum
  
• Parody Poems
  
• Rondeau
  
• The Roundabout
  
• Sestina
  
• Shadorma
  
• Tanka
  
• Triolet

I hope you have fun playing around with these forms. My personal faves are the triolet, sestina and shadorma.

For a few years now, I've been aware of J.P. Dancing Bear's work--from seeing his name floating around in literary journals. It wasn't until we became friends on Facebook (a year or so ago) that I knew he was the editor of American Poetry Journal and Dream Horse Press, as well as host of "Out of Our Minds" (a weekly poetry program on public radio station KKUP). Dancing Bear is also the author of What Language (Slipstream), Billy Last Crow (Turning Point), Gacela of Narcissus City (Main Street Rag), and--most recently--Conflicted Light (Salmon Poetry).

Here's a favorite poem of mine from Conflicted Light:

Auricle

I heard the humming engine
of a heart smaller than an anvil;
in the hummingbird's forest
my ear was mistaken for a flower--
I should be complimented
for the brief moment before
the taste of my ear canal
will forever mark the thin tongue.
The hunger that was whispered
to me, woke me from a dream:

I was the drum in the redwoods,
the tongue of green prophesies,
the anvil of summer hunger,
awakened to the canopy songs
that had lain in the linens of leaves
I called my stomach. Now I hear
the hammer's rumor of sparks
on the anvil and can taste fear.
Now I realize I worked for years
in the coded silence of a paper heart.

*****

What are you currently up to?

Well, I tend to keep fairly busy most of the time.  Right now, I'm working on getting Bruce Cohen's book, Disloyal Yo-Yo, published.  I'm also putting the final touches on my next book, Inner Cities of Gulls, which will come out by Salmon Poetry next year.  I just went through and revised my other manuscript for submission to a few contests. I've been writing two other manuscript/projects, Birthday Notes and Dancing to Orphee's Radio. Then there's reading for the Dream Horse Press and the APJ.  

You're the editor of American Poetry Journal and Dream Horse Press; you host the "Out of Our Minds" radio show on KKUP; and you’re constantly getting your own writing published widely. How do you manage to wear so many poetic hats at once?

I try not to think about how much work there is to do. I try to remain focused on whatever the task is at hand, get it done and move on. I think it also helps that I normally don't require as much sleep as most people do.  I've been a 4.5 to 6 hour sleeper since I was a kid—used to drive my parents crazy that I would stay awake until 2 sometimes 3 in the morning.  And for the longest time, my writing time was between midnight and 2 a.m., but I've learned to write whenever the mood takes me.  Dream Horse requires and APJ require that I set aside whole portions of a day to work on them.  I like to work at least 4 to 8 hours straight on either.  

Your recent collection, Conflicted Light, was released by an Irish publisher (Salmon Poetry). How did that come about?

I think Jessie Lendennie (the owner of Salmon Poetry) and I were on a large group mailing list together at one point. I tend to lurk, but I will chime in when I think I have something to offer on a topic that hasn't already been expressed.  I had piped up about something and about a day later I got a message from Jessie saying she'd read my work and really liked it.  I had been a fan of Salmon Poetry (I've got several titles on my shelves) for quite some time, and well… the rest just fell into place.

What do you feel makes a great collection of poems?

I think there are any number of things that work to make a great collection of poems.  If you are asking me to step out of my Dream Horse Press editor's hat, then I would say that a great collection of poems is one in which every page is something to be savored. That you read the first poem and it is like a fine and delicate morsel of food. You want to take your time and enjoy it. You know just from that first poem that you are in for a gourmet meal. You do not want to rush to the next page, you may want to read one or two poems a day.  And reread them. And then again.

If I'm wearing my Dream Horse Press editor's hat… I like to look for collections that hold together as a larger poem. I also enjoy crafted poems that clearly show the writer's knowledge and skill without taking away from the poem at all.  In other words, I think there should be something in the poems for a second and third reading that make those just as enjoyable as the first reading. 

On a poem-by-poem level, what is the typical life of one of your poems—from idea to publication?

I tend to work in projects or manuscripts first.  So a project comes to me sometimes as a couple of poems that I can see go together, or I will sometimes challenge myself in some way, creating a set of rules that I have to follow. I don't have one set way of writing a poem, sometimes it's a line that comes to me, sometimes it's an idea or a thought I begin exploring, sometimes it's an image, and sometimes it's a voice. I will usually play with it in my head for several days. Rolling it back and forth, adding to and taking away from it until I feel there's a core something there.

Then I will write it down, usually the first draft will take about an hour. I will then read it aloud and edit it until I think it "sounds" right. Then I have a few friends whom I might "try it out" on. I'll get feedback and "try" to incorporate that back into the poem.  Then I'll set the poem aside.  I will generally write about three quarters to four fifths of a manuscript (or when I know there's only a few months left) before I start sending poems from that project.  

I do this for a number of reasons: One, it gives me distance from the first poems I wrote in the series, so I can stand back and look at them and decide if they are ready, or edit them to the point of being ready; Two, I will not get discouraged about the entire project if the poems are rejected, and therefore question whether I should continue working on the project; Three, the editing and submission functions, I find, are distractions from the actual creative action, so I don't like to do that until later in the project. If a poem is accepted, I may want to tinker with it a little more, nothing too big, a word or a phrase at most. If a poem is rejected, I will go back and review it, read it aloud several times, possibly revise it, and send it out again. At the point where about a quarter to half of the manuscript has been published, I will begin sending that out.

The exception to this rule has been my Birthday Notes project on Facebook.  The rules I set out for myself is that the poems have to be written using an application available to me when I go to the person having a birthday that day's wall, I will also put them together and publish them on my Notes/Wall page, and I write a prose poem there on their wall and it has to be done on that day. Since it's all done on the spur of the moment, it's a different kind of writing. I have to make a decision and run with it right away. Sometimes there's been as many as nine of them to write, and you just can't deliberate choices and ideas.

How important do you feel community is to a poet?

I have mixed feelings about it. Online, I tend to enjoy being "connected" to writers all over the planet. We have fun, and I think some of us are playful. I also enjoy playing word games with other writers. And touching base with them. 

The physically local writing communities really depend on where you are and who you fall in with. I think it also depends on the types of personalities that are part of the formal organization. I remember back in the late nineties a group of us used to get together, go to readings, put together potluck gatherings and had a lot of fun doing it. It was all done in the spirit of openness and we were trying to reach across political, group or community lines. The events were very informal and fun.  I've been part of more formalized organizations and it frankly wasn't my cup of tea. 

I appreciate those kinds of groups when they are done right, and one of them I think that does a good job is Poetry Santa Cruz, they present or sponsor a couple of readings a month (usually at least one with a writer who is visiting the area), and are involved in fostering a strong poetry community.

However, I tend to be better with the online community because I can work in being a part of them to compliment my schedule, I cannot necessarily do this with the physical ones.

Who are you currently reading?

Eesh.  This is not an easy answer for me because I am constantly reading. And I could answer this with any number of parameters. So first, I'll split out the dead writers and list them (in no particular order) first: James Wright, Federico Garcia Lorca, Robert Frost, John Berryman, Larry Levis, John Logan, Sylvia Plath, Ted Hughes, Lynda Hull, W. H. Auden, Neruda, Paul Celan, and Reginald Shepherd (if you ask me tomorrow, I'd probably have a different list depending on memory).  

I tend to read a lot of magazines (both online and printed) and there are certain names that I will naturally gravitate to and read first, and I would say the same holds true if I'm in a bookstore and I see their name on the spine of a book (and I am going to limit this list to authors with more than one book published): Nance van Winckel, Natasha Saje, Mary Ruefle, Roddy Lumsden, Kathleen Jamie, Ralph Angel, Jack Gilbert, Mary Jo Bang, Carolyn Forche, Tony Barnstone, Willis Barnstone, Jim Powell, Dorianne Laux, Margret Gibson, Mary Oliver, John Ashbury, Paul Guest, Mark Doty, Sherman Alexie, Robert Bly (and again, these were off the top of my head, and I'm sure I would have a different list tomorrow). I will also add that I read and seek out any of the authors that I've published.  And just to round this off, if you are a friend of mine, naturally I'm going to read your poem if I see it.

I will also say that I like to read many different writers and have an ever-expanding list of favorites. I feel, that it is essential to keeping an open mind and to being a good editor.

If you could share only one piece of advice with other poets, what would it be?

Constantly push and challenge yourself to do new things and learn new things.  If you've never written a sonnet, then challenge yourself to writing a crown of sonnets. If you've never written anything other than formal verse, write a prose poem.  Breaking down things, understanding the craft behind them and rebuilding the way you write only makes you a stronger and better writer. Never, ever think you are "there"--always be on the journey.

*****

To learn more about J.P. Dancing Bear (including Dream Horse Press and American Poetry Journal), check out his website at http://home.comcast.net/~jpdancingbear/.

To learn more about Salmon Poetry, which published Conflicted Light, check out their website at www.salmonpoetry.com.

Suzanne Frischkorn gets to lead off the 2009 poet interviews on Poetic Asides. (Woo-hoo! Yay! Hurrah!)

I enjoyed reading Frischkorn's most recent--and first full length--collection, Lit Windowpane (Main Street Rag Publishing Company), for many reasons. First, the poems are "spare," which is a fancy way of saying they are unassuming poems that pack a punch. Second, the poems seem to communicate with each other throughout--making the whole even stronger than it's individual parts, which are doing fine on their own (many of them published in publications, such as Diode, MARGIE, and No Tell Motel).

Here's a personal favorite of mine from Lit Windowpane:

Ruin

In the spider and on the web. On the branch
and in the pothole. Yellowed grass, wilted
fern, blackened growth. On the skeletal
stems of black-eyed Susans and in dawn's
stretch. The glint of street lights. The sibilant
mulberry behind blinds. Empty sky. Listen
to these old windows,
how they lend themselves to rattle.

What are you currently up to?

I’m putting together a new collection of poems, working on some essays and editing the New Haven issue of Locuspoint.

Mary Oliver describes your writing as "select and elegant," while James Hoch says your writing is "spare." I noticed it, too. Is that sparseness something you consciously do with your writing?

No, when I begin writing a poem I don’t plan how that poem will end, what shape it will take, or set out for a particular style. I let the poem lead me.

How many drafts do your poems tend to make? And, do you think your poems go through more or less drafts now than when you first started getting published?

I revise a lot when I'm working on a poem, but I've never counted individual drafts, I know it's many -- many, many drafts. My writing process doesn’t seem to have changed with publication.

Many reviews mention your focus on nature in Lit Windowpane, but a lot of that nature seems focused on the water. Is there a reason for this?

Water is definitely one of the unifying elements of the book. I once read that your childhood landscape will always be your landscape no matter where you live in adulthood. After writing Lit Windowpane, I realize that's true. Most of my early childhood was spent on Miami Beach, and for many years I lived a short walk from Long Island Sound. The poems in the book were written after I had moved inland. In hindsight of course it’s obvious that I miss being close to the water. 

Before Lit Windowpane, you published five chapbooks. What do you feel makes a good chapbook? 

My favorite chapbooks have a focused theme, either through image, style, form, or any of the numerous ways to create a sequence of poems. I’m partial to the chapbook in any case, including the chapbook without a theme that gives a sample of the poet’s work. The bibliophile in me loves the chapbook as an art object.

You have a nice website that includes information about you, your collections, and readings. What function do you think a website should serve for a poet?

Thank you. A website allows a poet to have a web presence that’s current, directs those interested in her/his work to points of interest, and includes contact information. Basically it should function as a marketing tool.

You've been published in several journals. How do you handle submitting and tracking your submissions?

I tend to either submit a lot or not at all, meaning I’ll go through regular periods of sending my work out and then find I need a break from the administrative side of poetry. My submission tracking system is rudimentary, it’s usually a word document that lists the name of the journal, poems submitted, the date of submission, and a note on whether the journal accepts simultaneous submissions or not.

Who are you currently reading?

Jean Valentine and Ralph Angel.

If you could pass on only one piece of advice to fellow poets, what would it be?

Read, read, read and read.

*****

To check out Suzanne's website, go to: http://www.suzannefrischkorn.net/

To check out Suzanne's publisher's website, go to: http://www.mainstreetrag.com/

*****

To learn how you, too, could possibly end up interviewed on this here blog, go to: http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/Call+For+Poets.aspx

If you want something fun to try this weekend, here's a poetry exercise that I often employ myself in creating drafts of poems.

First, write a line or two. Don't worry about writing any further than that. The line can be a random thought that pops into your head, or something interesting that you hear someone say. Remember: Don't worry about any larger meaning when writing this line, and don't spend more than a few minutes--at the most--completing this task.

Then, in a hour or so, write another line or two without taking into consideration the earlier line you wrote. Again, don't worry about any larger meaning. Just write the line and move on with your daily routine.

Repeat this process every hour or so throughout the day or over a few days.

Then, collect all the random lines and try to make a poem out of them.

The beauty of this exercise is that it forces you to get creative with connections and juxtapositions of ideas and images. While this exercise may or may not produce a poem you like, it helps exercise your poetic muscles in a way that you can use this same technique to help with poem revisions later on down the road.

Since I like to provide examples, here are random lines I've produced over the past week:

* Don't even change your face.
* You'll never take me alive.
* What's between here and there.
* I still write love poems.
* Plane tickets and video games.
* Here she comes again.
* I'll take you wherever I want.
* Not everybody is a good guy.

Here's my attempt with these lines:

"What's between"

Not everybody is a good guy,
and I still write love poems. Here she
comes again, saying, "Don't even change
your face. You'll never take me alive."
Plane tickets and video games
in her purse, she tries being sincere,
but we're the only ones here who care
about what's between here and there.
I grab her wrist and tell her,
"I'll take you wherever I want."

*****

As you can see, I took several lines that were unrelated and made something out of them. It's definitely a first draft, but I think it's a good example of how you can employ this technique. None of the random lines were written with this poem in mind. In fact, half the lines were things I overheard others say that I found interesting.

Anyway, here's my little poetry exercise for the weekend.

Tammy and I have been busy preparing for Baby Will (due between now and 12/19--Tammy's scheduled C-section date). In addition, I've been putting in overtime on www.WritersMarket.com related stuff, teaching poetry courses at www.WritersOnlineWorkshops.com, and even helping out with some poetry-related issues on www.WritersDigest.com. While things have definitely been hectic, I've still been finding time to write and even made a new submission over the weekend. After all, poets don't make excuses; they write, right?

Anyway, I've talked with many writers over the years who say they don't "have time" to write. Or they're stuck on a line and can't seem to move ahead. Of course, they've often not written down that line that's got them blocked, which is a problem in and of itself.

So, here are some of my poet survival tips:

1. Always carry two pens. Pens are to poets as six-shooters are to cowboys. You need them to survive. Why two? Because if you're using your pens, one is sure to run out of ink at some point, which is when you pull out the back up writing utensil.

2. Always carry paper. I fold up one or two pieces of paper to carry with me at all times. Paper fits easily in pockets when folded. By following rules #1 and #2, you should be ready to write regardless of when inspiration strikes. If you can only carry pens or paper, always carry the pens.

3. Keep receipts--if you're without paper. While I almost never forget my pens, I do sometimes forget the paper. And receipts come in handy for overcoming my forgetfulness. I've actually written whole first drafts of poems on the back of receipts from the grocery, fast food, etc. Of course, a poet always has to be resourceful in this area--other surfaces that work are paper placemats, napkins, flyers, and, of course, even your own body.

4. Text yourself. If all else fails, you can always use your cell phone (if you have one with texting capabilities) to send lines to your e-mail account. Or you can save as drafts on your actual phone, though you'll want to make sure you have plenty of memory on your phone before doing this.

5. Keep paper pads or Post-It notes at your desk. Preferably, you'll have both. Whenever images or lines hit me, I scrawl them onto Post-Its. At lunch (or over the weekend), I can then look the lines and images over and see if I have the makings of a poem.

Bonus (and maybe most important) Tip:

Take it one line (or image) at a time. When an idea hits you, don't hold onto it and wait for more to arrive before getting it down on paper. Record that line or image immediately. If there's more on the verge of coming, it will come then. If not, you've just freed your mind to think of new related or un-related images and lines. If you want to get into the habit of always writing, this is the most sure fire way to get there.

In anticipation of the November PAD Challenge (which starts Saturday!), I threw out the above question to members of the Poetic Asides group on FaceBook: What makes a great chapbook?

Here's what some of them had to say:

An interesting mix of poems on the same theme, not always by the same writer but with visable threads which tie each piece together or take the reader on a journey, turning the page again and again.

Sue Forde

*****

I think that a great chapbook is written around a theme and its variations. That theme might be the subject, the place, the people in the poem, a primary metaphor.

The variations might even involve different forms, different rhythms--a different sense of momentum.

And the whole chapbook builds on an emotional arc (it may even build along a narrative arc, if that fits the theme).

Granted, neither of my chapbooks reflects that thinking, although parts of them do. But this is the way I'm writing and developing chapbooks now.

Joannie Stangeland

*****

A chapbook is a universe, and the poet is the solar designer. The planets and moons, no matter how far out, need to follow their own laws of gravity. From the quark to the gravitational force, it needs to make sense to the poet or editor, even if it remains a mystery for the audience.

Jesse Loren

*****

Consistency of vision: a motiff, a strong extended metaphor. Kinda like making a kick ass mix tape.

Scott Whitaker

*****

Here are some thoughts:

1.) Excellent writing, whether for poetry or prose; 2.) a good editor who knows how to place individual pieces together which work in harmony and add cohesiveness to the project; 3.) having an understanding the audience of the chapbook and knowing whether the intent is to entertain, inform, enlighten and/or give some cause for pause.

It helps to have a nice cover too, to initially attract an audience, but the work has to stand on its own once the cover is opened.

Rj Clarken

*****

A great chapbook: when the poems taken as a whole allow the book to function as the final poem of the collection. I think I'm plagarizing Robert Frost here.

Charlie Cote

*****

I think with a chapbook you should either go the route of trying for as much variety as possible, to show your full range. The danger with this can be the tendency towards being uneven.

The other option is to go the total opposite and have a unifying theme, build it so it is more like a concept album with each poem exploring facets of a larger idea. This runs the risk of going in the total opposite and having everything too samey.

I think sort the framework out and then kind of forget about it and just concentrate on the individual poems.

Paul Grimsley

*****

After having read dozens of chapbooks, and sent out numerous versions of chapbook manuscripts, some as sort of a variety pack, and some ordered so that there was a definitive narrative arc, I have determined that what works best and what most editors (and readers) seem to be looking for are collections that focus on a single theme.

Because they're small, they are easily read in one sitting, so a series of linked poems -- sonnets that explore the complicated relationship with the body, an abecedarian where each poem interrogates a single letter, a series of ekphrastic poems -- is a great way to go.

My chapbook Small Fruit Songs is a series of poems written on a single theme in a single form: fruit-related prose poems. Once I had the concept in place, I wrote the whole thing in under a week, and the first publisher I sent it to accepted it within just a couple of days.

Cati Porter

*****

A chapbook is an opportunity to focus, and every good chapbook I've read had a clear theme or stance, typically with an arc of development. As a small press publisher, I find that thematic development and careful arrangement is what makes a manuscript submission rise above, as opposed to the seemingly random compilation of a selection of one's poems.

In journalism, feature articles (as opposed to hard news) often hang on a "news peg," or something that connects the feature to current events in everyday life. It's a hook, and functions just like the musical hook in a pop song. As long as it remains intelligent and avoids excess gimmickry, I think the concept of chapbook should do the same.

Nancy Pagh won the 2008 Floating Bridge Press chapbook contest with her collection After, with each poem being written "after" a particular poet. Each spread starts with the epigraph on a left-hand page, with the poem on the right, so the idea is abundantly clear. That's the hook, the concept. In a way, it's like an invented bucket (or drawer) that readers can categorize the book into, thus making the book more accessible. The real substance is deeper, of course, and in Nancy's case it's the emotional sway that underpins the poems in their darkness and fearless grit.

The art of chapbooks, of course, is the limitless pursuit of different ways to create an original theme, a hook, a stance, finding the right balance between intrigue and challenge while avoiding facile or cliched gimmickry. A good chapbook not only has solid poems, but often has an idea behind their assembly that makes me wonder "Why didn't I think of that!"

Michael Dylan Welch

*****

A great chapbook excerpts the general aesthetic of the author, while allowing a little leeway for them to explore either something new, like style or form, or topical that might not fill a book. I would argue it's not a "teaser" or a "taste," rather, a chapbook is a complete and individual, shorter work that may appear, in whole or in parts, in a larger body of work later.

Todd Dillard

*****

I've just become Co-director of Flarestack Poets, a new incarnation of Flarestack Publishing which has a reputation for producing some of the best chapbooks (or pamphlets as we tend to call them in the UK) in Britain. Here's the statement we put together that explains what we think makes a great chapbook:

We're looking for poetry that dares outside current trends, even against the grain... collections that aren't bus queues or greatest hits albums from poets who are forging their own linguistic connections with the root-ball of experience.

Jacqui Rowe

*****

Content (especially poems or prose pieces that work together to form a whole) coupled with design. A chapbook should feel good in the palm of your hand, should look good sitting on the edge of your desk.

Corey Mesler

*****

This is an interesting question since I will soon be judging a chapbook contest for Rosemetal Press. I'm interested in reading your summary post to get some insights.

The challenge I faced in putting together my own chapbook manuscript (I Call This Flirting, Flume Press 04) was fighting against the brevity of the form. My first stabs at ordering the short-shorts (it's flash fiction, not poetry) made the book read like running water. You just zipped right through with no stopping points. In this way, the early drafts seemed neutral as a whole. I was trying too hard to make it "flow." It didn't work.

I decided to break it up into sections--putting in resting points as it were. The section break pages each quote a made-up fortune cookie fortune... The sections are thematic but not obviously so. After I did this, the chapbook seemed longer and fuller. I also frontloaded it with the most powerful work (in my opinion, of course) leading the chapbook.

Unlike a novel or a full-length collection of poetry or stories, I think with a chapbook you have less time to build momentum. So your challenge is to artificially create the kind of depth a reader experiences with a longer work. A chapbook invites an all-in-one-sitting reading so I guess that ups the reader expectation in a way...

When I love a chapbook, there's a kind of resonance and completion when I hit the last page. It makes me want to look the whole little book over again, amazed that it's so short but seems long. I want to think about it, and then pick and choose favorites as I reread--not in order--the second time.

Sherrie Flick

*****

A great chapbook, to me, connects in some kind of way. It doesn't have to be a theme, but something weaves them together. Maybe it can be a chapbook about, say, a relative, and all the poems mention that relative and it can be titled after that relative. Also, chapbooks should be short (like 10-20 pages) and consist of the BEST poems, no fillers. Not poems that can't stand on their own.

Melissa McEwen

*****

Stature: If it has the stature of a book, it is a great chapbook.

Sally Evans

I don't usually post interviews on back-to-back days, but I thought I'd make an exception in this case, because it might be the last interview posted until after November with this November PAD (poem-a-day) challenge coming up. And I'm just so excited to share Nin Andrews with anyone who hasn't read her work.

You see, there are poets who seek me out for interviews; there are poets who I seek for interviews; and then, there are cases where me and another poet just kind of bump into each other. In the case of Nin Andrews, I was definitely seeking her out after picking up (at random) one of her previous collections, Why They Grow Wings (Silverfish Review Press).

Since I'm an editor, I've always got more books than I can possibly read, but I was hooked from the first line of this--to me, anyway--previously unknown poet. After doing a little research, I learned she was not such an unknown quantity, in addition to learning--to my delight--that she recently released two other collections, Sleeping With Houdini (BOA Editions, Ltd.) and Dear Professor, Do You Live in a Vacuum? (Subito Press).

Here's a favorite of mine from Sleeping With Houdini:

Sleeping for Kafka

I heard on the radio this morning that prayers can heal. Experiments demonstrate that cancer patients who are prayed for, even by an anonymous person, have a better prognosis than those who receive no prayers.

A person can purchase prayers from Grace Church in Kansas by dialing 1-800-prayers. Visa and Mastercard are accepted.

I read that Kafka, a chronic insomniac, felt refreshed after watching his beloved sleep. Sometimes he invited her over, just to admire how she draped herself over his couch, wrapped in immaculate rest.

Some speculate it was the dreams of his beloved he wrote.

Thoughts like dreams drift from mind to mind. Some are heavy and sink to the ground or disappear under water where they grow like sea plants, while others are light and glide upwards like helium molecules.

When Jacob saw angels going up and down a ladder, they were merely tracing his thoughts.

Nietzsche said few people think their own thoughts. Instead they are thought. Many people are dreamt and prayed. They are like seashells inhabited by hermit crabs.

Most of us have no clue whose dream we are.

And with that, here is the interview:

What are you currently up to?

I'm working on two projects, one which I hope might become a New and Selected Orgasms. And another, which is a set of essays and longer prose poems that are very loosely linked by an economic theme.  Or money.  (I know it sounds boring, so I'm hoping that's not the case.)  I was always told as a child not to talk about sex, politics, or money, and I always do what I am told not to do.

I've read that you grew up on a farm. How do you feel your childhood shaped you as a poet?

As a child, I spent a lot of time at the barn with the horses, cows, cats, and chickens.  I also spent hours just staring at things—catching tadpoles, or watching ants pull crumbs or dead ants, or bees load up on pollen as they went from flower to flower.  We didn't have a TV or neighbors or other forms of distraction, so I spent a lot of my time daydreaming.  I think it's that empty space or time in my days I became used to as a kid that has shaped me most. It's the space I still need in order to write or solve problems or just stay sane.

In our correspondence, you mentioned that you've noticed a shift in your writing from more surreal work in your first collection (The Book of Orgasms) to more a storytelling style in your book due out next fall (Southern Comfort). Do you think there's a reasoning or natural progression behind moving from the surreal to storytelling?

I tend to do the opposite of what I am told.  Write what you know, my first teachers suggested.  But I have never been a big fan of reality.  Reality feels like sandpaper on my skin.  Sometimes I think I would love to escape the everyday world, and just move into the imagination forever.  Music, philosophy, dance, poetry, painting – they all help me do just that. Like good drugs, they offer an alternative to reality.  So initially I tried not to write my personal story.

But then, at a certain point, I started thinking about my childhood, and my children used to ask me about my past.  And I would tell them stories.  Stories about the time the one-armed man who worked on our farm shot a rabid fox. About the time the same man got drunk and let the heifers run loose on the freeway. About this crazy lady who came to the farm and taught me to see ghosts and read palms.  Or about a man called Toby who would walk up the dirt road on bare feet some days, and then go down to the mud pond to catch snapping turtles.  He said he caught them by feeling in the mud with his toes.

My children wanted me to tell these stories again and again, especially when I imitated the voices of the farmhands, my father, my mother, the crazy people, and the different animals and so on. They said I should write them down. But it's not easy for me to write about the farm. It's a bit like trying to break an ocean into drops.  And of course, I don't have an ability to see these pieces objectively.

From your first collection to your most recent, you've written a lot of your poems in the prose format. What do you like about the prose poem?

In the beginning, I wanted to write carefully crafted mini-tales.  And the prose poem is designed for that.  After a while I became interested in all the ways a prose poem can borrow from other forms.  So there are prose poems that are like fables, myths and parables, prose poems that are like interviews, love letters, fan letters, horoscopes, plays, advertisements, news reports, etc. There's so much versatility in the prose poem format.  And  great opportunities for humor.

Do you feel the structure of poems helps influence the content?

Yes. I think line breaks, for example, are content.  The same poem written with line breaks and without them—can have an entirely different effect.  And meaning. 

I think choosing a form is like choosing a design for a house. If  you have a big open space with skylights and a stage, that's one kind of experience.  If you build a large house with a bazillion tiny rooms, that's another experience.  

You mention that the poems in Dear Professor, Do You Live in a Vacuum? are inspired by actual comments, notes and questions from your husband's students. Where do you find that you draw the line between reality and fantasy in your own poetry?

In most of my writing, I try to keep reality off-kilter somehow. To offer at least a tiny escape from reality. I do this in different ways, depending on the book. In Dear Professor, I use humor to create that escape.

In the orgasm poems, I am sometimes taking a literal reality and making it surreal.  Or a philosophical discussion and putting it in an absurd context.  I have, for example, an interview with an orgasm.  That poem began when I saw the debate between Senator Bentsen and Senator Quayle.  When Bentsen said: Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine.  Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy, I imagined one orgasm saying to a fake orgasm, Orgasms are my friends. I know orgasms, and you?  You're no orgasm.

In the southern poems, I mix up the characters, recast a father as a farmhand, an uncle as a father, my friend's mother as my own mother, so that I can gain some objectivity. I want each poem to speak for itself, not for my experience.  A poem, I like to think, has its story to tell, its own truth.   

The poems in Sleeping With Houdini seem very tightly wound together. When you're putting together a collection, do you start with an idea and start writing the poems to complete that idea? Or do you write poems and then fill the gaps after you notice a pattern developing?

I will write on one subject for months at a time.  I end up with a heap of poems that cling to one another like static electricity.  It's a nightmare to try to organize my obsessions.  To try to make a pattern out of chaos.  It's a little like attempting to take tiny pieces of old fabric and sew them into a beautiful dress.

Who are you currently reading?

I was just reading Shirley Jackson.  She reminds me a little of my father, her dark sensibility.  And Mark Halliday's new collection, Keep This Forever, which is as brilliant and smart-assed as Halliday always is.  And The Lover by Duras, which is fabulous, of course.  It's interesting, now that I think about it.  All of these books are taking a bite out of my peace of mind.  But they are all teaching me things.

I've also been reading Rick Bursky's The Soup of Something Missing, a little collection I think everyone should read.  He's a poet I'm crazy about.  And Carol Maldow's The Widening, a book about sexual awakening.  She calls it a novel, but it's not. It reads like a memoir written in prose poems.  Each page is a chapter.  Each page is a beautiful prose poem.

If you had one piece of advice to share with other poets, what would it be?

I never follow advice, so I don't usually give any either. 

For me writing is a little like keeping the barn clean.  Every day I check over my work and see if there are any manure balls I need to remove. And every day there are.  For sure.  So I'm never surprised by a rejection.  And I'm always amazed by an acceptance.  That someone took something of mine, cow pies and all. So I'm grateful for even the tiniest forms of acceptance. 

Not that that's advice.  It's just the way I survive the poetry business side of being a poet.  And how I keep writing.

*****

* Check out Nin's blog at http://ninandrewswriter.blogspot.com/

* Click here for more information on Sleeping With Houdini

Just realized that poets can sign up for my upcoming Advanced Poetry course at WritersOnlineWorkshops.com. There are no required texts, but there will be workshopping, communicating and new poems.

If you're interested, you can learn more at http://www.writersonlineworkshops.com/retail/courses.aspx?r=advanced-poetry-Writing-workshop.

The course begins on November 6th and lasts 6 weeks. Hope to see you there.

Okay, this question has been coming up a lot recently in the comments section of this blog: What counts as previously published? And, in relation to this blog, does posting a poem in the comments of this blog mean it's "published"?

Before I begin, I think it would be beneficial for you to read this post from former co-blogger and Poet's Market editor Nancy Breen about the whole publishing question in "Published is Published!"

For Individual Poems

Many editors consider anything published anywhere at any time under any circumstances as published. This can even include public readings. And if a publication specifies what they consider published in their guidelines, it would behoove a poet (or any writer really) to respect the editor's considerations.

With such editors, a poem posted anywhere counts as publication, whether it's posted in a public forum or blog, or even a private, password-protected location online. In such cases, poems posted on this blog would be considered "previously published." However, there are editors who take a slightly different view.

Some editors consider a poem unpublished if it only displays on a personal blog and/or is in a "draft" form in a forum or blog. That is, if your poem on Poetic Asides is only a rough draft and not the final version, it would not be considered "previously published." If editors do not specify what they consider previously published, there's a good chance they fall into this camp.

For Poetry Collections

Except for rare cases, most editors/publishers of poetry collections accept previously published poems as long as the collection itself has not been previously published. Actually, the fact that poems are previously published usually helps in getting the collection published. That said, do NOT try to use poems posted on a personal blog or public forum as a publishing credit. Such credits hold little weight, since there is usually no screening process, because eveyone can get published.

My main point here is that individual poems that are considered published by journals can still be considered unpublished as components of a poetry collection. And that even individual poems that are considered published are welcome in "original" collections of poems.

In fact, "new collections" can be made from selecting poems from previous full-length collections and chapbooks.

So, How Should Poets Proceed?

Armed with your knowledge of what is and is not considered published, you've just got to pick your battles and act accordingly. For instance, most of my poems are not published on my blog, because I want to have as many publishing options available to me as possible. I share drafts of these "unpublished" poems with close poet friends to solicit feedback for revisions.

The poems I post as parts of prompts, I consider "published," though I would not use it as a publishing credit if I tried including any of them in a collection, because I also consider my poems on this blog to be "vanity publication credits." I make an informed decision to write a poem a week just for the act of creation.

Considering how much money most published poets make anyway, I don't view this as such a bad decision. But every poet has to make this decision on their own.

This interview came about from an earlier interview with poet and actress Hélène Cardona. Sometime in June, Hélène mentioned that John M. FitzGerald's most recent collection, Telling Time by the Shadows (Turning Point), was actually a collection of secret love poems written by him to her.

"These are the poems John wrote when we first met," says Hélène. "We met at a reading he did at Beyond Baroque in Venice. After that we communicated through poetry, sending each other poems by mail or e-mail for the longest time before we even had a date. It's a very 18th century story."

Needless to say, I was definitely intrigued. John originally sent his poems to Hélène as "prayer poems," so as not to let on they were to her. Eventually, the secret broke, and they both went on to live happily ever after.

FitzGerald, a dual citizen of the United States and Ireland, has published in numerous journals and anthologies. Spring Water, a novel in verse, was a Turning Point Books prize selection in 2005. His other collections include The Mind, The Charter of Effects, Question Creation and The Zeroth Law. He recently completed his first novel, Primate, and turned it into a screenplay.

Here's a poem from Telling Time by the Shadows:

"Magus"

I would be one of the wanderers,
with heaven watching.
Observe, you reflections, I glance away.

Notice the wonder spring forth in ancientness,
steep the spell held in spices, hypnotized.
In dreams I descend twenty steps at a time,

am afraid how I'll land if I fly too high.
I try not to say I, and claim myself,
a sign of consciousness uncovering.

Who calls me, from such transience?
We will ourselves into vastness,
like children at graves,

a wind with just one chance to blow,
both toward and away from itself in surprise,
or life is waste.

There are shooting stars, then that which lingers,
even hovers like a hawk, a halo, a messenger.
None can bear looking straight into the sun.

We see it reflect off the ocean by day, the moon at night.
Imagine someone's sun fly away.
What must it search for, in its burning?

Galaxies witness it bursting through silence.
May it hover to the end in spite of where it finds itself.
Let innocence cling to the universe, swirling,

get high and go hungry, distill our minds
till we can't control what pours from inside,
and at heart remain addicts, ever humble.

And with that, let's get into the interview:

What are you currently up to?

I recently finished a new manuscript of poetry, The Zeroth Law. It's actually more of a cross between poetry and literary nonfiction that compares the beliefs of the world’s major religions to history, myth and science.

You're in a relationship with poet Hélène Cardona. So I'm wondering if you could share what it's like to be in a relationship with another poet?

Hélène is great. She is the love of my life and my best friend and a pleasure to be around. People say we're joined at the hip. I'm not so sure that being in a relationship with another poet is so different than being in a relationship with a person in any other occupation. You have to make time for both the vocational and creative aspects of life, while continuing to recognize the things that brought you together in the first place. I was used to being alone to write and it took some adjustment for me. But it helps that we have a lot of the same interests and can bounce things off of one another. And it helps that she is brilliant, too.

Your collection Telling Time by the Shadows is actually a collection of "secret" love poems you wrote to Cardona, which you called Prayer Poems at the time. Could you re-cap a little on how this developed, including when/how Cardona finally learned their actual purpose?

Yes. It's a collection of poems of love and longing. I first met Hélène when she approached me after a reading I did at Beyond Baroque, in Venice. She told me how great my poems were, and of course, I was immediately stunned by her presence. As time went on, we kept meeting again and again at local poetry events. We talked and exchanged poems.

But Hélène is an impressive person. I was always certain that it was only the poetry she was interested in, rather than me in a romantic sense. We began to meet and take very long walks along the beach, from Santa Monica to Malibu, almost daily. During these walks we would hardly speak at all. We would then each return to our separate homes, and send each other poems and letters by e-mail and post.

At that time, as it happened, I was working on what I then referred to as "The Prayer Poems." These were prayers in the traditional sense, that they were directed toward a deity. But in these poems, God is really a woman.

In your own opinion, what makes for a good "secret" love poem?

I think a good secret love poem is one that is universal. You cannot give yourself away completely. Hélène actually began to hope the poems were about her.

You work as an attorney, which I'm sure eats up a lot of time and can be psychologically draining. How do you balance your poetry with your day job?

I write every night. It's just a matter of habit. I wouldn't feel normal if I didn't do it.

Could you explain what inspired Spring Water (Turning Point), a novel in verse about the life of a serial killer?

When I was in law school, I read a number of cases in criminal law and criminal procedure, in which defendants being tried for murder raised the defense of insanity, stating that God, or the devil had told them to kill. But the case that stuck with me the most did not arise in the context of crimes, but in the context of wills and trusts. It was the infamous Tylenol case, to which we now owe the tamper-proof cap.

In this sad case, a newlywed couple was called on their honeymoon in Hawaii, and informed that the groom's brother had suddenly and unexpectedly died. The couple cut their honeymoon short, and returned for the funeral. After the ceremony, there was a reception held at the home of the deceased. Both the new husband and wife took the very same Tylenol, and died within an hour of one another. Since they both had wills leaving everything to the other, the issue was which one to enforce. The killer was never caught. That really stuck with me.

You have lived in England, Italy, and Santa Monica. I'm going to put you on the spot and ask which is your favorite place to live and why?

Santa Monica. I love it here. I was born here. But I'm also a citizen of Ireland. I lived England 2 years and couldn't wait to come home. But now I sort of miss it, and will make it a point to go back – for a visit. My mother's side of the family has a vineyard in Amorosi, near Naples. It's pretty great there too. But since you said "live," I'm sticking with Santa Monica, for now. Who knows, I might feel the need to move to Ireland, depending on who wins the election.

As a follow-up question, do you think travel helps with the poetic writing process?

I'm sure that anything outside the ordinary, everyday experience must help with the creative process. As beautiful as Santa Monica is, you can only write about the beach so many times before you bore yourself to television.

If you could share only one piece of advice with other poets, what would it be?

Read, read, read.

*****

Check out Turning Point Books at http://www.turningpointbooks.com.

Check out John's website at http://jmfitzgerald.com.

And finally, check out Cardona's website at http://www.helenecardona.com.

*****

Poetic Asides is loaded with great poet interviews. To view them all, go to: http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/CategoryView,category,Poet%20Interviews.aspx.

Earlier this week, I received a long e-mail from an anonymous Poetic Asides reader who asked important questions I'm sure all poets have asked themselves at some point or another in their poetic development. Here's some of the e-mail:

"I want to put together a book of poetry. I have the subject already in mind. Here's the thing. I am a fly-by-night poet. I have a hard question for you. Do you think I have what it takes to make it as a poet from having read some of my work?

"I sent in six poems to a local competition this year and didn't make it even as an honorable mention. I also sent in five or six to the Writer's Digest competition in December. I haven't heard anything, so am assuming that I didn't make the cut. Now we are talking 100 poets who made it, and I didn't get there.

"Anyway, I turn to you in a moment of despair. I am feeling low and just want a crumb to pull me out of this mist. However, honesty is what I need."

And my honesty is what this poet will get.

First, I don't advise poets to try thinking about putting together books of poetry until they've published some individual poems. It's not that a poet can't do this, but by entering competitions, I'm assuming that a poet wants some kind of recognition, and publication is a great form of recognition.

Second, contests are great, but they are competitions, which means there are several other poets battling it out for the top poem(s). If Writer's Digest recognizes 100 poets, for instance, then they must receive thousands of entries for the competition. Keep in mind that most competitions produce a minority of winners and a majority of losers.

Third, I'd suggest spending less time entering competitions and instead submitting to online and print publications that publish poetry that fits your style. Yes, this means you should devote time to reading online and print journals to see what fits. (Note: This is also a great way to learn from what works and doesn't work in other poets' poems.)

Fourth, it sounds like you need involvement with other poets, whether online or in person. I would suggest trying to get a small critique group together, either by contacting other poets online or trying to do so locally--either through your local library or bookstore. You'd be surprised how many poets are all around us.

Finally, only you can say if you have what it takes to be a poet. Do you feel compelled to write poems even facing the possibility that no one will ever read your work? If so, you are and will always be a poet. Poetry is not a form of writing that will earn you much fortune and glory, so using recognition as your "poet worth" gauge is probably not the best idea.

However, recognition can be a powerful fuel for the poetic motor. So get involved with some other poets; read and submit to publications; and keep writing. The rest will take care of itself.

Some of you have asked over the past few months if I do or will teach any online courses. Well, after speaking with Joe Stollenwerk at www.writersonlineworkshops.com, I will start teaching some poetry courses online.

My Fundamentals of Poetry Writing course will begin on 9/18 and it should kick butt.

To learn more, including a description of the course, just go to http://www.writersonlineworkshops.com/retail/courses.aspx?r=fundamentals-of-poetry-writing.

As you'll see on the page, you can sign up for my class directly. And I think they cap the classes at 15 students--so thought I'd give y'all first crack at signing up.

Some of the poets I've interviewed for this blog were sought out by me; some have been recommended by other poets; and some have come to me on their own. In the case of Martha Silano, author of Blue Positive (Steel Toe Books, 2006), it was kind of a combination of these events.

In my interview with Julianna Baggott, Martha Silano was mentioned as a new poet she took a shining to. I started to check out Martha's work, but then I got sidetracked on some other projects. Next thing I know, Martha is introducing herself and mentioning that Julianna sent her in the direction of my blog--and would I be interested in interviewing her? Anyway, one thing led to another, and wow! Silano is a great new (to me, at least) poet.

There are many excellent poems in Silano's Blue Positive collection, but the one that really grabs me is the following:

Harborview

By the roots of my hair some god got hold of me
--Sylvia Plath

By the roots of my hair, by the reinforced elastic
of my floral Bravado bra, by the fraying strands

of my blue-checked briefs, some god's gotten hold of me,
some god's squeezed hard the spit-up rag of my soul, rung me

like the little girl who rang our doorbell on Halloween, took
our M&Ms is your baby okay? Why did they take him away?

Some god's got me thinking my milk's poison, unfit
for a hungry child, some god's got me pacing,

set me flying like the black felt bats dangling
in the hall, some god so that now I can't trust my best friend's

healing hands, the Phad Thai she's spooning beside the rice (ditto
to the meds the doctors say will help me sleep) Poison poison!

as if the god who's got hold of me doesn't want me
well, doesn't want my rapid-fire brain to slow,

wants this ride for as long as it lasts, wants to take it
to its over-Niagara-in-a-barrel end, which is where

this god is taking me, one rung at a time, one ambulance,
one EMT strapping me in, throwing me off this earth,

cuz I've not only killed my son but a heap of others too.
Some god's got me by my shiny golden locks, by my milk-

leaking breasts, got me in this hospital, wisps like white scarves
circling my head, wisps the voices of men back to bed you whore!

Some god till I'm believing I've been shot, guts dribbling out,
till I'm sure I've ridden all over town in a spaceship, sure

I'm dead, a ghost, a smoldering corpse, though not before I'm holding up
a shaking wall, urging the others to help me (a plane about to land

on our heads), though soon enough thrown down by two night nurses,
strapped to a bed, though for weeks the flowers my in-laws sent

charred at the tips (having been to hell and back), clang of pots,
hissing shower, the two blue pills my roommate left in the sink,

all signals of doom, though some god got hold of me,
shook and shook me long and hard, she also brought me back.

And with that, let's get into the interview.

What are you currently up to?

I'm working on a book of poems--it's almost finished, I hope--tentatively titled The Little Office of the Immaculate Conception. It's about this mother who gets knocked up, considers fleeing, fights with her husband, almost gets a divorce, has the baby, gets seriously depressed, and continuously (alternately) screams at and revels in/adores her two children. Betcha can't wait to read it!

I've also recently begun a series of poems (I would like it to be a chapbook) about body parts. And I'm working on another full-length collection about space aliens, extra-terrestrials, Galileo, ants, space junk, the universe, and related subjects--but this one probably won't really get going till my youngest starts kindergarten, when I plan to apply to every writer's colony in the country.

I recently read in an interview that you had to suffer through postpartum psychosis to write your collection Blue Positive. Could you elaborate on that experience? For instance, I'm interested in how it affected your daily life and whether you were still able to write, etc., as you went through postpartum. Also, I'm wondering how it was initially detected.

Oh gosh, that's a big question. Thanks for being bold enough to ask it. I've encapsulated what happened during those first six months of my son's life in two essays; one appears in the April ’08 issue of Redbook, the other in Poets on Prozac: Mental Illness and the Creative Process, just out from Hopkins U. Press.

Let's just say my daily life was quite different. I don't remember much about the first week at all; I was actively psychotic--hallucinations, delusions, the whole kit and kaboodle. I mean, I thought I was in cahoots with the Unibomber. When the drugs put a stop to the active psychosis, I was left with paranoia, extreme insecurity, acute anxiety, agoraphobia, and severe depression. "Writing" consisted of scribbling down a few notes about the guy down the hallway who was out to get me. When I got home from the hospital I was still in pretty bad shape--afraid to venture down to the basement, take my son on a walk. I was also prone to gut-wrenching panic attacks. Worst of all, I'd forgotten how to laugh. I remember going to see the movie Best in Show, and not being able to figure out what was so funny (I saw it a year later and laughed my ass off).

As far as the detection issue, that was pretty much a comedy of errors. After my first panic attack (ahem, slip into psychosis), I was diagnosed with sleep deprivation and given a prescription for tranquilizers, which I never took because, of course, the doctors were trying to poison me. The next time I got hauled into Behavioral Health they finally began calling what I had postpartum depression (semi-true) and put me on antidepressants, the worst thing you can give to someone who's manic. Three cheers for modern medicine! The Paxil actually sped up the process from mania into full-blown psychosis, landing me in the ER that much faster.  

More doctors and nurses are beginning to understand there's a connection between the postpartum period and bipolar disorder, but in the year 2000, at Harborview Medical Center, in the very progressive city of Seattle, I was treated like a "crazy person," not a new mom suffering from PPP. For instance, I got a wicked urinary tract infection because my hoo-ha was still bleeding and they didn't remind me to take my requisite daily sitz baths.

The collection Blue Positive seems to me to be a collection celebrating life--it covers topics such as sex, pregnancy, motherhood, and food. How did you go about assembling the poems that would go into this collection?

I hadn't thought of Blue Positive as a particularly celebratory book, but—psychosis be damned!—it's quite a mirthful romp, isn't it?

The oldest poem is "Salvaging Must Lead to Salvation"--an I-want-to-get-married piece I began in 1998. For months I was writing these pathetic (very ordinary) little square-shaped poems that were going nowhere, and then it was like the levee broke and this voice came out--not quite "me," more this potty-mouthed gal who both thoroughly adores and completely despises this man she's going to end up marrying. I knew this poem didn't fit with the manuscript I was sending out at the time (What the Truth Tastes Like), so I guess it's when I knew I had another book in me—always a relief.

Then I got hitched, knocked up, and wrote all the preggy poems ("Getting Kicked by a Fetus," "What they Don't Tell You About the Ninth Month," etc.). Then I thought the book was done (2000), and sent it out to a dozen or more places the week before I went into labor with my son. What a joke! When I "came to" after my 6-month trip through crazy-land, I realized, duh, I had actually only written a 1/4 of a book--okay, 1/2 at best. So I kept writing, and of course all the poems were now about being a mother--"While He Naps," "Explaining Current Events to a One-Year Old," "His Favorite Color is Green," etc. Urged by a friend, I sent a revised version off to the National Poetry Series; it was chosen as a finalist.

Once I knew I'd even slightly enticed a neutral reader (i.e., not my mom or sister), I kept adding, cutting, and shaping. It took two more years to (1) write the title poem; (2) figure out that I needed to begin the book with my own childhood, then move chronologically through adolescence, courtship, marriage, pregnancy, and the birth of our son; and (3) be awarded an 8-month writing residency in the wilds of southern Oregon’s Rogue River canyon, so I could get knocked up again and write the thirteen poems that close the book. And that's how it finally got finished.

Motherhood factors into a lot of your poems. How do you work in time to write around being a mother and teaching? Do you have a writing routine--or just write when you can?

Oh, goodness, I envy those people who can write whenever they want. But actually I was always poor with time management. I like rearranging junk drawers, pouring over old photos, gabbing, etc. So it's actually turned out that I write more now than ever. But okay, here's a little secret: self-imposed writing retreats. I've done three in the last year. The first two were paid for by a grant (thank you, Washington State Artist Trust), but the most recent one cost me less than $100--two nights in a friend of a friend's beachfront studio. It didn't have a stove or a bed (I slept on the floor), but hell if I cared.

Otherwise, I write when I can: on the kitchen floor while my 3 year old plays with her dinosaurs, at the dentist's office, in traffic (yes, in a moving car), at the beach, on airplanes and on fishing docks, during snack time, while they're sleeping; in between all the rest. 

How do you decide where to submit? Do you have a particular process for deciding where to submit and when your poems are ready to go out?

1. Under most circumstances I don't send to a place unless I’ve read a back issue/perused their online offerings or am a subscriber.
2. I've gotta mostly completely love the poems, the fiction, the art work, the layout, the whole shebang, or no thanks.
3. I avoid submitting to mags where I don't have a prayer (I'm not talking long shots, I'm talking completely different aesthetic).
4. When a poem is getting close to feeling finished, I email it to a poet/editor friend or two, just to make sure I'm not about to make a total fool of myself. If I skip this step, and sometimes I do, it feels risky, sorta cocky--I mean, how the hell do I know? I've sent things out too early--who hasn't?--but mostly I try to sit on my hands as long as I can, even if it feels like a poem is finished. I can't always wait a year, but usually a month or two at the very minimum allows me to find all the stupid little mistakes, OR to realize the poem is actually a piece of sh*t. 

I've enjoyed reading your Blue Positive blog where you deal in equal parts personal and poetic. What are your thoughts on blogging in relation to your writing? Would you recommend blogging to other poets?

I can't say I recommend blogging, though it IS a blast. It might be keeping me away from the real writing, but so far it hasn't interfered much. I like writing about magazines and writers I'm stoked about, asking questions, sharing personal stuff that's not quite poem-worthy, keeping my prose muscles toned. I really haven't thought about whether it's beneficial to my writing in any way; it's just stuff I would have told a friend or written in my journal, so why not put it out there? It reminds me a little of being a DJ at a tiny college radio station in Iowa. I would say these outlandish things, make little jokes, purposely mess up the PSAs--probably only a few cows were listening, but that was half the fun of it.

Could you name a couple poets you're currently enjoying? And why you're enjoying them?

The hard part is keeping it down to a couple. Here’s five:

1. Heidi Lynn Staples—wacky, wild, mind-blowing leaps;
2. Matthea Harvey—startling line breaks and imagery, lots of surprises;
3. Jenny Browne—I love how her poems are both grounded and surreal;
4. Sandra Beasley—oh man, has she ever changed how I see the world, but especially cherry tomatoes;
5. Lee Upton—her music is sump.tu.ous. Here’s a gal who knows how to edit down to the bone.

As mentioned earlier, you teach English at two community colleges. Do you feel teaching has helped or hindered your writing?

My students bring satchels and satchels of enthusiasm, excitement, and adrenaline into my life--our conversations wind me up and set me spinning. I love holding back on what I think and instead asking more questions. I love how they talk to each other, teach each other, teach me. Without them, would I still be writing?  I grow old; they stay young. I grow set in my ways; they kick me in the pants. It's an incredible honor to teach, a calling, really. If I didn't love it, if it didn't feed my creativity, I wouldn't do it. So, the short answer: helped.

If you could impart only one piece of advice to other poets, what would it be?

1. Ignore all oracles.
2. Don’t be too cocky or too humble.
3. Figure out the poems you were given to write, and get to it. 
4. When an established writer gives you the critique you begged for, listen carefully and do your best to keep mum.

*****

To find out more about Martha Silano, check out her website at http://www.marthasilano.com/.

The site includes poems from her collections Blue Positive and What the Truth Tastes Like (Nightshade Press, 1999), as well as ordering information.

*****

If you're a poet or publisher interested in setting up an interview (or just a poetry lover, who wants to make a recommendation), then check out my Call for Poets. It worked for Martha Silano, and it could work for you.

While this might be too basic for some of the blog readers, I thought it wouldn't hurt to share some poetic terms for poets who've not taken formal courses in poetry. Personally, I love knowing more about the various terms, and I've got such a bad memory that sometimes it's good for me to have a refresher or two on the basics.

The stanza in its most basic sense is each group of lines in a poem. For instance, in a sestina there are 7 stanzas with the first 6 stanzas containing 6 lines and the final stanza consisting of 3 lines.

Stanzas can come in several different lengths, from one to one million (or more) lines in length. In fact, some of the shorter stanzas have official names that can be applied to them.

1-line stanzas are monostich.

2-line stanzas are couplets.

3-line stanzas are tercets.

4-line stanzas are quatrains.

5-line stanzas are quintains (or cinquains).

6-line stanzas are sixains (or sestets).

7-line stanzas are septets.

8-line stanzas are octaves.

So, getting back to the sestina, we could be all smart and say it is composed of six sixains followed by a tercet.

Or we could just say a sestina is composed of a sadistic pattern of end words that leave many poets curled up in a fetal position chanting, "There's no place like home," while clicking their heels together with their eyes shut tight against the world.

Our Poetic Asides inaugural Poet Laureate, Sara Diane Doyle, has been busy-busy-busy this summer working with teen writers. But not too busy to share with her fellow Poetic Asides crew a new poetic form she developed with one of her students, David Edwards. Since Sara knows the form best, I'll let her explain the form to you in her own words.

*****

A few months ago I began exploring various poetic forms. With each form I tried, I would post my attempt on a forum for teen writers, where I am a mentor. One of the teens, David Edwards, got interested in forms, especially the “created” forms. He asked if anyone could invent a form and I said “sure!” Then, he got the crazy idea that we should create a form together.

To start, we wanted to throw in every poetic element that we really liked. David came up with the meter and feet and I added in the repeating line. We came up with the rhyme scheme and length together. The result is a form we call the Roundabout. In this form, the rhyme scheme comes full circle while offering repetition of one line in each rhyme set. 

The Roundabout is a four stanza poem, with each stanza consisting of 5 lines. The poem is written in iambic and the lines have 4 feet, 3 feet, 2 feet, 2 feet and 3 feet respectively. The rhyme scheme is abccb/bcddc/cdaad/dabba. Roundabouts can be on any subject. 

Several of the writers on our forum have written Roundabouts and have had a blast." We would love for other poets to give it a try! Here are some examples to get you started.

Crash

by David Edwards

Around around the carousel

across the circles face

we cry we shout

we crash about

across the circles face

and ever always breakneck pace

by this unending route

and twists and turns

and breaks and burns

by this unending route

of ever always in and out

the yearling quickly learns

to run and yell

at ocean’s swell

the yearling quickly learns

to run and leap and then he earns

but he will never tell

there’s not a chase

that wins the race

but he will never tell.

When Spring Trips ‘Round

by Sara Diane Doyle

When wildflowers bloom once more

and raindrops touch the earth,

the faeries come

to start the hum

and raindrops touch the earth!

Come join the song, the dance the mirth!

Enjoy the juicy plum.

beneath the sun

'til day is done-

enjoy the juicy plum!

The clouds let out the beating drum-

rejoice with us as one.

Our joy we pour

for pain we bore-

rejoice with us as one.

Of gleeful hope, the snow knows none,

but speaks of faeries lore,

of magic birth,

the greatest worth

but speaks of faeries lore.

It's been a while since I've covered a new poetic form, so what better form to cover than a humorous one: the parody poem.

A parody poem is one that pokes fun at another poem or poet. For instance, I recently read a parody of "We Real Cool," by Gwendolyn Brooks, in an online version of Coe Review called "We Real White" that cracked me up. I even showed former Poetic Asides co-blogger Nancy Breen, but now it's apparently disappeared in the ethernet.

Soooo... I'm going to provide my own example that is not nearly as funny as the "We Real Cool"-"We Real White" parody. Instead, I'm going to parody one of my all-time favorite poems by Walt Whitman--"Song of Myself."

Here goes:

"My Song"

I congratulate myself and talk to myself;
I make a bunch of assumptions and descriptions;
what I talk about you listen to me talk about;
I talk about myself a lot;
but that's okay;
and boring.

The original version was much longer,
but nobody read it,
because it was longer,
because it had too many long descriptions,
because I have an affinity for exclammation points!!!!!!!!!!!!

So let's cut to the chase,
and get this over with,
and celebrate me,
and celebrate you,
and whoopity-doo!

So here's the short version,
and you better read it.

TanyaB--one of my friends on Facebook--recently sent me some poetry-related Q's she'd like addressed on the blog. One series (of three) had to do with editing. So, I'm going to list the questions below and try to answer them the best I can. Any blog readers who have a different take are more than welcome to contribute their thoughts in the comments (even if you completely contradict my advice, I'm always open to the possibility of being wrong). :)

Btw, these questions have to do with editing your work.

How do you get started with the editing process?

As far as I'm concerned, the editing process is sometimes going on as early as the actual first draft when I'm deciding what to write. But that said, I often try to just write and let ideas and images come out. When I do this I can sometimes start editing as soon as I finish the draft, but more likely I'll have to let the draft sit for some period of time before revisiting. That period of time could be anywhere from half-an-hour to several weeks (or longer). That's why I copy all my poems down into notebooks--so that I can always revisit old ideas and develop into new pieces if the mood strikes.

There are many things I look for when I revise, but those are based off comments I've received over the years about things I tend to do with my writing. For instance, I try to eliminate the word "it"--unless I can justify its existence. And I prefer active verbs over passive verbs, etc. Also, I read over the poem for rhythm and examine the poem to see if I can give it structure without sacrificing the meaning or flow. And there are many other things--someday I may write a book on them all.

How do you know when it's finished?

A poet friend of mine likes to say that a poem is never finished, and I tend to agree. I mean, look at Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman--it went through the revision process until there was a "deathbed edition." There's no perfect poem; therefore, you can always play around with them. When you can't find anything new to do to the poem, though, it's usually a good time to try submitting it. If it's accepted, great. If it's rejected, the time apart from the poem may give you new ideas on ways to play with it.

Should you hire an editor or just go with your gut?

I think poets need to develop their guts; I also think poets should never hire an editor. In addition, poets are served well by developing relationships with other poets who can help critique their work. And the critiquing should go both ways. The process of thinking about what works and doesn't work in another's poems can be very beneficial if you then look for similar flaws in your own work. And the feedback you receive from other poets will give you the opportunity to defend your poetic decisions or admit that improvements could be made. No matter what, you should thank anyone who volunteers their time to give you feedback--even if it's not an easy pill to swallow.

Hope that was helpful. And if you have additional comments, please share them with everyone in the comments section below--so the whole group can benefit from your insight.

If you happen to have questions of your own you would like to see addressed on the blog, feel free to send 'em my way with "Poetry FAQs" in the subject line to robert.brewer@fwpubs.com. I can't promise I'll answer them all, but I will try to do what I can.

A-ha! Here’s an interview with a poet who participated in the April PAD Challenge and wrote his first ever sestina as a result. As Joseph Mills, author of Angels, Thieves, and Winemakers (Press 53, 2008), comments, “It was smart of you (meaning me, of course) to put that towards the end since by then we were invested in finishing.”

In recent years, Mills has published two collections of poetry through Press 53; the other collection is Somewhere During the Spin Cycle (2006). With his wife, Mills has also put together two editions of A Guide to North Carolina’s Wineries (John F. Blair, 2007). It seems only natural that Mills’ knowledge of wine-making and poetry would create its own poetic blend.

Here’s a favorite poem of mine from Angels, Thieves, and Winemakers and originally published in North Carolina Literary Review:

“Aging”

To speak of a wine’s future

is to speak of our own desires,

how we hope as we age

that we’ll become more

harmonious, less acidic,

that our tannins will mellow.

We recognize right now

we have a burst of flavor,

an energy, a liveliness,

but also a harshness

which later may soften

until we’re more balanced,

more approachable,

easier to appreciate.

Hold onto us;

we believe

we’ll get better.

What are you currently up to?

At the moment, I’m working on a novel set in “Carolina Wine Country” and a young adult novel that deals with the nature of time.  I’m also drafting a sequence of poems about my mother’s dementia and other work for my third poetry collection tentatively entitled “Love and Other Collisions.”

So, what led to an entire collection of poems about wine?

In the last half dozen years, my wife and I researched and wrote two editions of A Guide to North Carolina’s Wineries.  As we traveled the state, talking to winemakers and winery owners, I found myself with material that wasn’t appropriate for the guidebook, but that I was interested in exploring and using.  I wrote a few poems dealing with wine, and they appeared in my first collection of poetry, Somewhere During the Spin Cycle.  The wine poems kept coming, and once I had more than a dozen I realized that there would be enough for a collection, and that this would give the volume a nice coherence.  Eventually I wrote well over a hundred and then culled the best.

Do you think of yourself as writing for poets who enjoy wine or for wine lovers who enjoy poetry?

For the guidebook, I had a clear audience in mind--people interested in touring or at least learning about the state’s wineries.  It’s nonfiction with a straight-forward purpose.  For poetry, however, I never think of an actual audience.  I write for myself.  I work on a poem, and I try to shape it as best as I can.  Sometimes I’m not satisfied with it, and I shelve it.  Sometimes I’m satisfied enough to consider sending it out for publication which is a way of both inspiring me to work on it more and, once it’s sent, having it out of my sight for a while.  Even with publication in mind, however, I don’t imagine an audience, someone actually reading it.  I learned a long time ago that when you publish poetry, you shouldn’t expect any kind of response.  If you do, you might be waiting a long time.

I hope the book appeals to more people than a Venn diagram middle of poetry lovers and wine lovers.  In fact, maybe it will get people more involved in both. My brother, who is a teetotaler, has told me that the poems make him want to drink wine, and my wife likes to say that it’s “poetry for people who think they don’t like poetry.”

In your collection, you use specialized terms, such as "thief" and "angel's share." Do you feel jargon helps the writing process?

I love the specialized language of a field when it is in some way metaphorical.  For example, the “angel’s share” refers to the evaporation in the barrels.  I find this thought-provoking as opposed to technical language like “thirty inch cartridge filter housing.”  I’m interested in the language that’s evocative rather than intimidating or limiting.

Jargon can sound pompous and it can obscure, but the specialized vocabulary of almost any field can be fun.  On a film set, when you “cheat” something, you’ve set up an unnatural relationship, moving things too close together, so that it will come out on the film looking right.  I find the term fascinating.  In music, there’s a chord called “the devil’s interval” which is a terrific phrase.

Religion seems twisted into the wine. Do you find that writing about both religion and wine is a natural?

Because of the nature of grape-growing--the seasonal cycle of pruning and rebirth in the vineyard--and the way wine involves a transformation of grapes, even people who aren’t religious tend to use spiritual language to talk about it.  Since what I love about wine are the stories, and historically wine has been an element in so many religions, it’s probably inevitable that I would write about the relationship at least a little.

Who are your favorite poets?

I love the work of John Ciardi, James Wright, and Philip Levine.  Billy Collins consistently delights.  There are poems by W.H. Auden, Margaret Atwood, Elizabeth Bishop, Randall Jarrell and Gary Snyder that I have returned to dozens of times over the years.  I’m a fan of “The Writer’s Almanac” because I like reading just a poem at a time, integrating it as part of the day, and having its selection be a surprise.  (It’s why I like the shuffle feature of my iPod.)

What are your favorite wines?

The ones I drink with my wife and with family and friends.  The joke in our household is that we only “cellar” wines that we don’t like.  If we like it, we drink it.  The second part of the joke is that there are only two bottles in the cellar.

One piece of advice for other poets: What is it?

Consider it a life’s work.  After twenty years, I’m finally writing poems that I think reward attention.  I hope in the next twenty years, I’ll learn to write poems that hold up.  And in the twenty years after that…

You write a little bit at a time, consistently, and it adds up, and the work improves.  I’ve often had the experience of discovering a way to finally revise a poem that for years hasn’t been quite right or how to use a few lines or ideas that I have squirreled away long ago.

Finally, you're stranded on a deserted island and can only have 3 things with you: What are they and why?

My wife.  She’s the only person I know that whenever we leave each other, I immediately want to call her up and see when we can meet.  Plus it would finally be a chance for us to have an island vacation together.  I would take our two kids, but they would probably get bored, so how about my iPod with a solar charger.  It not only has thousands of songs, but also audio books and lectures on subjects that interest me, such as Mark Twain and the Civil War.  I also would want a writing utensil that would work until we were rescued and something to write on.  Wait, that’s two, isn’t it.  Can we consider “a writing package” one item?  How about an incredibly durable solar powered laptop?  But, then I wouldn’t need the iPod, so what about a guitar with indestructible strings?  That’s it:  wife, laptop, guitar.

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For more on Joseph Mills, check out his Web site at http://www.josephrobertmills.com/. 

Here are some of his poems available online from New Works Review:

* "The Thief"

* "Release"

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If you're a poet or publisher interested in an interview on the Poetic Asides blog, read more here.

Over the weekend, I was asked by a poet for tips on how to handle criticism as he tried thinking out whether he should join a writing critique group. With his work, he was afraid of a few things:

1. He wouldn't be able to handle the critiques. That is, he was afraid too much negativity would lead him to give up writing.
2. He wouldn't find the right readers to give critiques. He'd written a massive blank verse poem, and he's afraid the wrong group won't appreciate his words.
3. He won't appreciate the written words of his peers. He seemed to have a particular view of other contemporary writers--thinking much of today's writing is kinda like spam.

Now, I'm not going to get into a debate of his stance on contemporary poetry, which I personally think has very good vital signs. However, as a former participant of several online critique groups and a student that logged more than 60 credit hours in writing courses at the University of Cincinnati, I will speak a little on the value of critique groups.

So there, I've already tipped my hand: I think critique groups are valuable, even if you don't agree with the critiques. And here's why:

First, the only way to gauge if something is actually working for your readers is to solicit feedback. Sure, you know what you're trying to do, but you don't know if anyone else is picking up on it unless you hear it from your readers. After all, you can't go around explaining your intentions to every reader--unless you actually want a very small audience.

Second, bad feedback is still valuable, because it forces you to look hard at your work and try to justify exactly why a particular line or image is fine as it is. And you need to be honest with yourself. If you can't honestly defend your work, then you may have an area that needs revision.

Third, there's nothing better than good feedback. After taking in all the praise though, be sure to develop a certain sense of paranoia. Is everything really okay? Can I change a line here or there? I've found that when I receive absolutely no negative feedback that I'm usually more self-critical of my work. After all, there's no such thing as a perfect poem.

Fourth, critique groups give you the ability to talk out problems you're having. If you know something's not working, you can ask the group to pay attention to x or y and give specific feedback.

Fifth, critique groups provide camaraderie with other poets. And that's often hard to do, especially if you don't live in a major city--but even there, poets are a bit hermetic and love to fly solo.

So there are some reasons why critique groups--as well as workshops, conferences and creative writing programs--are a good thing (in my opinion).

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As far as handling the criticism, as mentioned above, you should always be prepared to defend and scrutinize your work. It's a crazy tightrope act, but one that poets need to perform to get the most out of their lines.

Personally, I always bring a new poem to my critique group hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Usually, I find my words are somewhere in the middle.

Currently, I'm not a part of a critique group, but I still have some trusted readers for poems that I feel are close to getting where I want them to be. These are the readers I trust to let me know if my writing is hitting the mark or falling short. I know they'll let me know, because we've built up a level of trust over the years--both in giving and receiving criticism. Hopefully, if you haven't already, you will be able to find such a group of trusted readers.