I did something today

I finished the aforementioned poem... I think. Not final draft finished, but I think the sections are all there and the words are all down, save small edits and tweaks. It's five sections, somewhat fragmental, and titled Portraits, which was off the cuff, but I've quickly grown to like it; there's much the title can imply. The voice recorder did prove its use, as I quickly drafted the fifth section this evening from my thoughts while downtown.

Normally, I would let the words come at their own pace, but I'm in a bit of a rush. I went to my first writer's circle tonight (finally not having class or rehearsal overlapping with it) and wanted to have at least a complete, solid draft ready to go, because I need feedback. Now. I'm giving my first reading- though brief- on Saturday as part of the Chords and Oil show and really wanted to have something new to show that was worthwhile. This damn well better be it. It was one of those poems that when the first few lines came to me, I knew it would almost write itself; those are the best poems. I find that if I linger over something too long, I start trying too hard, and the poem reads like too laboriously. Nothing should read like that. I think that good poetry is the type that seems improvisatory, like a prelude; like the words just came and fit, like when the words are read, they sound fresh and extemporaneous, as though they were being conceived at that moment. Even Eliot, despite all his grandeur, accomplished this.

Portraits: request and receive.

Now, because I want this particular blog to help me keep focus on my writing, I'm going to try to include general thoughts I've had about writing that day, if for no other reason to catalogue my ideals and philosophies for myself.

Poetry thoughts:
Potatoes are so poetic, aren't they? a red potato, boiled or baked, unsalted and unbuttered; just bite in, taste the earth.

The use of colors. This is pet-peeve land. I hate reading poetry that uses all sorts of wild color names when red will suffice. Does the reader really need to know the precise color, with such specificity as to the tint and shade? Words like vermilion and apricot, when used in such a way, tend to sound clunky and artificial, and that's one of the worst things a poem can be referred to as. Repeat to yourself: "Red will suffice! Red will suffice!" and when you need to let it be known that this red isn't bright like Bozo's nose, but rather subdued, use another adjective to modify it, perhaps by saying "dingy red" or you know what? Tarnished! Imagine something red and tarnished; isn't that a fascinating image? isn't that better than saying vermilion and hoping everyone thinks of vermilion as the precise shade you do? You don't need these words. Get rid of them. What the hell is vermilion anyway?

Fiction thoughts:
Use of cliche:
In exposition? No, no, no.
Within dialogue? Yes, please!

While you should hold yourself to a high enough standard to not to resort to glaring cliche when narrating and in exposition, I think that shying away from its use in dialogue can be a big downfall. And it takes a little courage to allow yourself these cliches, but they are cliche for a reason; this is how people speak. The goal here is beautiful prose and natural dialogue. Unless your characters are a couple of stuffy upper-crust Bostonians at a luncheon, they're not going to be speaking like Henry James on lucidity bender, so allow them their cliches and trite turns of phrase unless you enjoy the response to your work being rife with "who talks like this"s.