Don't Be Discouraged

by

Lily Rex

 

When I was between the ages of thirteen and sixteen, I sent a great deal of embarrassing poetry submissions to literary journals. I had no idea how to do it right, and I had an even tighter budget than I do now as a college student. Obviously I wasn’t buying sample copies of the journals, so, even if my work had been on par, I would have had a tough time getting accepted anywhere because I didn’t know what they liked. However, submitting (and getting rejected) at such a young age taught me a great deal.

To date, one of my favorite articles about writing is “Go the Distance: What Rocky Taught Me About Submission,” by Benjamin Percy. The title is self-explanatory: You’ve got to go into it like Rocky Balboa goes into a fight—and that means a lot of energy has to go into your submission process as well as your writing game. Think of the writing as the fight and making a submission schedule or researching a journal as running up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

I have recently decided to start submitting to journals again. The truth is that when I turned sixteen, I didn’t stop and decide I needed to take a break from submitting. It wasn’t that I was writing less or that there weren’t markets for my work. I lost my Rocky.

I lost confidence in my work, and that is the worst disservice you can ever do yourself as a writer.

There is a market for everything. If you don’t believe me, peruse the journals that publish only cowboy poetry or mystery tales involving cats in the nearest copy of Writers’ Market.

Editors out there want your writing. You just have to find them. You’ll go through dozens of rejections in the process.

In his article, Percy talked about an “unpublishable” beast of a story he wrote that was thirty-four pages long. He got it published in the end, but he had to send it to a couple dozen journals. I’ll leave you with a few more words of encouragement.

·         Publishers told Emily Dickinson she needed to learn to rhyme

·         Gone with the Wind was rejected by 25 publishers

·         John Grisham sold books out of the trunk of his car before he was a bestselling author

·         Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein when she was 20

·         Laura Ingalls Wilder (author of the Little House on the Prairie books) wrote her most popular work when she was 64



That doesn't--I mean does not seem right

by

Lily Rex

 

                Revision is, no doubt, the most important part of the writing process. It involves a lot of thought about what you mean to say and whether or not you can say it better as well as consideration for rhythm. Self-analysis is the key to deciding how to present the content of your poem, but careful poets should also pay special attention to the way their work sounds and flows when it is read out loud.

                Very few of us turn around and begin submitting a piece that we’ve written within a few days of finishing it—we recognize that the poem or story might not be ready for publication because it needs revisions that won’t come to us right away. When revising poems, it is a good idea to have a waiting period before you revise as well as a waiting period before you submit.

Since many of us writers have an academic background in literature, it can be hard to resist the temptation to interpret your own poems the way you would analyze a poem by Frost or Dickinson. While this can be a very valuable way to figure out what you want to say and how to say it best, beginning the process of self-analysis too early can make the elements of your poem sound forced. I like to refer to this as getting too close to the architecture of the poem. You’ve likely experienced this if you sat with one poem making revisions for too long and began to feel like you were making the poem too abstract. Setting a poem aside after you finish a first draft can be very helpful. If you give yourself enough time to forget exactly how you were trying to convey your message, you can look at your own technique with fresh perspective. This allows you to revise in a way that is friendly to readers rather than to writers (other poem architects).

            About the sound of poetry, Maya Angelou wrote in her memoir I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings that reading poetry aloud helped her recover from a traumatic event in her childhood that made her scared to speak. She had a kind neighbor who introduced her to poetry, but that neighbor told her that one cannot truly love poetry unless they read it out loud.

            Reading poems out loud isn't just poem appreciation—it’s also a useful revision technique. Poems have rhythm and musicality. Even if a poet is not a spoken word artist, the way a poem sounds is a large part of the poet’s voice and the overall impact of the poem. Very often, I make small revisions in real time when I read a poem out loud. As I’m speaking, I will sometimes make changes as small as spelling out a contraction or changing "this" to "the." However, if a real-time change feels more natural in speech, it's worth considering a revision to the written version of the poem. Sometimes one extra syllable in a line of poetry can change the rhythm in a way that edits the voice that is supposed to be present and the dynamic of the whole poem.  Other times, one extra syllable can be enough to make a line seem crowded when read silently and feel crowded when read aloud.

                When the content of your poem might not be quite right, let it sit for a week or two. Next time you think a poem is perfect, read it out loud to make sure. These two tips can improve subtle elements of your writing, whether it is fiction, nonfiction, or poetry, by catering to your reader’s mind and ear.



How to Stand on a Stage, Yell, and Gesture Wildly Without Getting Booed

by

Lily Rex

 

 Spoken word poetry, or slam poetry, is generally characterized by topics that the audience can relate to and a writing style that is conducive to performance. Spoken word poems are quite different than the average Dickinson or Levine piece. If you're interesting in writing slam poetry, there are several things you should do when you write in order to fit the genre, and knowledge about spoken word is also transferable to any public reading situation.

Slam poems are similar to songs in length—usually three to five minutes when performed. Some of the complicated metaphors and abstract ideas we like to use in our shorter, more “literary” poems require multiple readings on the part of the audience. This mastery is great if your goal is to show your prowess in print, but it doesn’t work so well in a crowded room. Keep in mind that your audience will only hear this poem once. As a result, the poetic devices you choose should be easily understood the first time they are heard. Rhyme is a good way to keep your audience engaged. End rhyme can sometimes sound contrite or cute, but internal rhyme, used within lines or stanzas rather than at the end, can be a valuable asset. Repetition and alliteration are probably the easiest and most effective devices to use in this genre because they cater to the ear rather than the eye or the mind.

Speaking of the mind, it is imperative that you choose a topic you are passionate about.  Spoken word performers are often known for political activism, and their poems frequently feature social commentary. Choose a topic that you know a lot about—one that you would like to, and could, talk about all night given the opportunity. Spoken word must be emotional, and it is often deeply personal. Chances are that if the topic you have chosen makes you emotional or gets you excited, either your audience will know and care about it too, or the vigor you possess while speaking about it will inform them and at least keep them interested.

Both choosing your technique carefully and picking a topic that is dear to you play into one of the most important aspects of spoken word. A spoken word performance is always best if you have memorized your poems, and that is easier to do if you love the subject of your poem and you wrote the poem in a way that allows you to easily remember what comes next and to improvise if you get stuck.  Now, why is it so important to memorize your poems? Reading a spoken word poem should really be thought of as a performance rather than a reading. Your voice, face, and hands are just as important as the content of the poem. You’ll need your hands free so you can gesture, and you need to connect with the audience on a level that can’t be achieved looking down at a sheet of paper. Similarly, if you know your poem well enough to recite it without reading from a hardcopy, your familiarity with the poem will be heard in your voice. You’ll become more comfortable reciting it on stage—and that leaves extra room for pathos and improvisation.

                Spoken word poetry has gained a lot of attention in recent years--and not all of that attention is positive. While some people are praising the renewal of the oral tradition, a few others say this new style is an insult to what the oral tradition used to be and all the good qualities of printed, literary poems. However, spoken word, like any genre, is not effective unless it is done right. Remembering to write for a live audience, love your topic, and memorize your poem is a great start.

More resources on spoken word poetry:

Sarah Kay’s TED talk: “If I Should Have a Daughter” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0snNB1yS3IE

Example performances:

Phil Kaye and Sarah Kay: “An Origin Story” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=esgfG3BoAPc

Lauren Zuniga: “To the Oklahoma Lawmakers” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=leE4_k9zxEI