Company at the Desk: Writing in Response to Others’ Poems

My class in the SMU Theatre program

When I left theatre and began writing as my main creative focus, one of the things I missed was having a stage manager. When you’re in a play, the stage manager makes sure rehearsals (and then the show) start on time. As an actor, I knew when I was supposed to arrive. Even if I was cranky or distracted, I got to rehearsal and started working because people were counting on me to be there. But more importantly, I was in a collaborative environment–we’d work together to bring the play to life, and my ideas were augmented by everyone else’s.

Even though I typically write alone, I’ve found various ways to recreate that sense of collaboration. I’m teaching a couple of workshops in February where we’ll experiment with writing in response to others’ poems as a form of collaboration.

Poems from Poems: Call and Response

February 4, from 1 to 5 p.m. at Richard Hugo House  $96/$86.40 for Hugo House members

“Good poems are the best teachers. Perhaps they are the only teachers,” writes Mary Oliver in A Poetry Handbook. This workshop explores ways to let others’ poems not only teach you, but lead to new poems of your own. We’ll experiment with po-jacking, sonic translation, echo translation and other ways to use one poem as a jumping off point for another. Come prepared to write and stretch your craft – participants will leave the workshop with fresh drafts of new poems.

Registration is open online or via phone at (206) 322-7030.

I’ll teach a shorter, free version of this workshop on February 26, from 2 to 4 p.m. at the Lopez Island Library.

Let me know if you’d like more information about either class–I’d love to see you there.

Pico Iyer in Praise of Stillness

Happy New Year, dear reader. I’ve found myself thinking a lot these last few days about reshaping how I use my time. I want to scale back the number of hours I spend facing a screen. I want less noise in my head. So as I was reading the NY Times today (ironically, on screen), I was delighted to find this editorial by Pico Iyer on The Joy of Quiet. He writes:

In my own case, I turn to eccentric and often extreme measures to try to keep my sanity and ensure that I have time to do nothing at all (which is the only time when I can see what I should be doing the rest of the time).

I’m going to print the whole piece out and post it in my office, to remind me that I can find stillness and quiet simply by choosing to turn off the gadgets that keep me connected. Don’t get me wrong–I love the advantages of a fast Internet connection, cellphones, etc. But I often feel exhausted by needing to “keep up” with email, Facebook, blogs, etc. Iyer’s article reminds me that a different perspective–one that feels more authentic to me–is always available.

Read Pico Iyer on The Joy of Quiet.

I wish you a peaceful, healthy and occasionally completely unplugged new year.  Turning off the computer now. Bye-bye.

“A Small Elegy”

I came across this poem, “A Small Elegy,” by the Czech writer Jiri Orten, for the first time years ago, in Ed Hirsch’s wonderful book, How to Read a Poem and Fall in Love with Poetry, and it knocked the wind out of me.  I gasped at how intensely this terribly young Czech writer articulated a sense of isolation, outrage and disappointment in god’s failure to protect those we love from evil.

Czech poet Jiri Orten

Then I discovered that the translator, Lyn Coffin, lives here in Seattle. And I was delighted to find out earlier this year that after 40 years of translating Orten, with the poems in and out of print, Night Publishing has brought out a full-length collection of her emotionally resonant translations. It’s called White Picture, and this week on KUOW I feature Lyn reading  “A Small Elegy,” as well as a conversation with Lyn about the art of translation and about why she thinks Orten is such an important poet of the 20th century.

Listen to Lyn read “A Small Elegy,” then listen to our conversation.

Here’s a wonderful blog post from Lyn about her connection with Orten, and finally getting this collection in print. And here’s Ed Hirsch on “A Small Elegy.”

Skagit River Poetry Festival Line-up for 2012

Just got word about the line-up for the next Skagit River Poetry Festival, May 17 to 20 in La Conner, Wash.  Wonderful group of poets, including several of my favorites: Marie Howe, Ellen Bass and Carolyn Forche. Mark your calendars!

More info is available at the Skagit River Poetry Project website.

Here’s the full list:

Learning to speak all over again

This is how old I feel when I hold my cello.

First cello lesson today. First EVER. I am not picking up an instrument I studied years ago. I am starting at square one at 46 1/2. Why am I doing this? Because I have loved the sound of the cello my whole life, but until last year, assumed it was too late for me to learn.

I was talking with someone* a couple of weeks ago about starting to play the cello at this stage in life, and he or she suggested I think of it as learning to speak all over again, and to remember how long it takes children to learn to talk.  This feels like incredibly sound, helpful advice. I think it will help me tolerate the years of baby talk, mispronunciation, truncated phrasing and (let’s be honest) incoherent tantrums ahead of me.

This timing is not accidental. Since Every Dress a Decision came out this past May, I’ve been casting around for my next project, very aware that I want to write in a different way than I have so far. My poetic vocabulary feels stilted and tired. I want to shake up my perspective, revise my frames of reference, learn a new language.

I’ll let you know how it goes. If you have advice for my new adventure, please share!

*It’s not lost on me that I already have an appallingly bad memory. I’m hoping for improved brain function as a fringe benefit…

When Books Leave Home

Big thanks to Kristen Young for catching Every Dress a Decision on an end cap at Elliott Bay Books (and to EBB for putting it there!)

Letter to a Young Writer

While at Hedgebrook in August, I wrote a “letter to a young writer,” for a new series on the Richard Hugo House blog. The curator, Kristen Steenbeeke, asked us to offer advice a la Rilke‘s “Letters to a Young Poet.”

If memory serves, I first encountered Rilke’s advice many years ago, before I considered myself a writer. I was taking acting classes at Freehold with Robin Lynn Smith, one of the most transformative teachers I’ve ever worked with. She gave us several quotes from Rilke, including this one from the Letters:

Back to Hedgebrook

I’ve been given the gift of 10 days at Hedgebrook.  Ten days to be one thing: a writer, writing.

Hedgebrook was created in the late 1980s by Nancy Nordhoff, a visionary and generous woman who wanted to create a place to support and encourage women writers.  It’s on 40+ gorgeous acres on Whidbey Island, a short walk from Useless Bay.  Six women are in residence at a time, women from all of the world, working in all genres. We meet for dinner in the farmhouse at the end of the day, for a meal prepared largely from Hedgebrook’s organic garden.

If this sounds like writer heaven, it is.

Poetry of Social Change: Guest post from Susan Rich

This week, poet Susan Rich will teach a workshop on the poetry of social change at the Port Townsend Writers’ Conference at Centrum. (I’ll also be there, teaching two workshops on performing poetry aloud.) Susan’s three collections of poetry, The Cartographer’s Tongue, Cures Include Travel and The Alchemist’s Kitchen (all from White Pine Press), provide terrific examples of how poems can engage with the most pressing questions of our times.

Today, Susan gives us an introduction to this complex, compelling subject.

Four Tips for a Virtual Residency

I participated in Hedgebrook’s “virtual residency” a couple of months ago, and offer some tips for creating your own in-home residency over at Susan Rich’s blog, The Alchemist’s Kitchen today.

An actual Hedgebrook cottage, where the non-virtual residencies take place.