I am replacing yesterday’s post about my writing process with just the second half of it as I realized l wish to let my books stand on their own without much information on my intentions. And I added a new very short last paragraph.
I am happy that the memorable books of poems I’ve read since this past April, besides rereading my own first two books, including A Village Life by Louise Gluck, Fleurs de Reve or Flowers of a Dream by May Ziadeh, and Tea in Heliopolis by Hedy Habra, along with just passing by a stranger on the streets of Boston who very much had the look I fathomed to evoke in my poetry book in progress, and then later on, discovering while closely reading May Ziadeh’s French poetry to choose the best English words for them myself, that my third poetry book in progress could contain ‘Part Two’ that was met through passing ‘Part One,’ and all these helped make my inspiration or vision more real. I have also found an imagined place of the past coming through in these poems.
I recently submitted three revised poems to a literary magazine online and I’ve collected other magazines I’ve come across. Having works in progress easy to find and organized helps me, like having folders in my Poetry folder with names like #Drafts, #3, and #Submissions. I save my poetry on Google Docs and can access it on my phone from anywhere.
I remember hearing this quote in a college creative writing class that great writing ‘sounds as if it was written in a moment’s thought…’ But not necessarily that it took a moment to write it. And I’ve been through different personal stages to make sense of what this means for my own poetry writing.
It has been illuminating to continue to read poems aloud to myself and to be able to write in ways that are familiar to me but also broaden my writing by being just as excited to read others’ poetry as I write poems of my own.
This single thought of mine came to mind last night: “I write as if the reader knows exactly what I am talking about even if they don’t.” And I treasure that.