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Happy Poetry Month!
I received a nice surprise in my mailbox a week ago—the April issue of Cricket.
My poem “Chinese Lantern Plant” is on page 16. I just adore Irene Rinadi’s wonderful illustration. The garden in full bloom gives me hope that spring might finally be here with summer right around the corner. We had snow last week, but this weekend is supposed to be beautiful, sunny, and warm. I hope your weekend is filled with spring weather, buds, blossoms, and poetry.
Chinese Lantern Plantby Sheri Doyle
Who has hung
a hundred paper lanterns
heart-shaped
tomato red
rustling in the garden
above a grassy dance floor
where crickets sing and
beetles jitterbug?
I’m so happy to be a part of Irene Latham’s celebration today. Her blog is a great source of inspiration for me and many other writers and readers. I will add to the celebration with my original poem all about writing and following one’s instincts as WILD as they might be.
trust your instincts
saw two pterosaurs fly overhead today
you probably saw two blue herons, some might say
ha, I laugh, two blue herons
the pterosaurs drifted across the clear bright blue
graceful, wild, beautiful
in a sweep of near-silence, without a flap
gliding in from 200 million years ago
or so
ha, two blue herons
if I believed what some say
I’d never write poems about pterosaurs
© Sheri Doyle
Writer Matthew Burgess and illustrator Kris Di Giacomo have captured the playful spirit of E. E. Cummings in this charming biography for young readers. Burgess reveals how Cummings’s love of nature and his sense of imagination as a child developed into an exploration of language. The delightful illustrations blend fittingly with lively displays of text—words and letters dot the trees, spot tulip petals, hover in clouds, and spout from an elephant’s trunk.
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From a young age, Estlin Cummings expressed his fascination with nature through his poems, which his mother recorded in a book.
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Quotations weave in and out of the story of Estlin’s life. We learn more about the poet through the words he spoke, the words of those around him, through full poems, and poem fragments.
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Burgess and Di Giacomo introduce Cummings’s experimental style in a way that is intriguing and accessible.
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Children will be fascinated to see Cummings as an inventor of words who broke rules and faced criticism.
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Readers will discover that despite the criticism Cummings received, he pursued his dream and went on to become respected and loved for his work as a poet.
Surrounding examples of the poems is the poetic telling of Cummings’s life—Burgess’s words are as playful as the poet they describe. Throughout the book, Burgess and Di Giacomo reveal the interconnectedness of the enormous and the small.
E. E. Cummings is an attractive personality for children to explore. Young readers are sure to connect with the poet’s playful approach to expression wonderfully expressed in this book.
Enormous Smallness: A Story of E. E. Cummings
by Matthew Burgess
illustrations by Kris Di Giacomo
Enchanted Lion Books
2015
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Have you picked up
The Complete Poetry by Maya Angelou? It was released in the spring of 2015 and I was lucky enough to get my hands on a copy right away. I wrote a review of this book for my local newspaper. You can find an online version of the review
here. Lovers of poetry and fans of Maya Angelou—please check out this book! It is wonderful, of course. But it is also an amazing feeling to hold the weight of this
phenomenal woman’s lifework of poetry. As I read through the poems—some I’d seen before, many I hadn’t—I experienced a whole range of emotions, I reflected, and I learned.
While reading the book and preparing my review, I had begun reading outside again in parks for the first time this year. It was very early spring, snow patches still melting under pine trees, maple buds just beginning to appear. I had decided to reread I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, which I took along with The Complete Poetry to a park in Elora one sort-of-warm but mostly-cool March day.
With my husband beside me on a park bench (reading The Orenda by Joseph Boyden), I began my session with the poetry collection and moved on to the autobiography, placing The Complete Poetry behind me against the bench to shield my back from the cool breeze. (Survivors of Canadian winters know that even poetry books protect against the cold if positioned creatively.) In all honesty, it wasn’t too cold. We even took off our jackets for a short time (five seconds) to remember the feeling of outdoor air on skin. So really, it wasn’t necessary that I put The Complete Poetry behind me on the bench. I shouldn’t have. You can probably tell by now where this is going.
I am ashamed. I left the book in the park. On the bench. I don’t even live in Elora. We had taken a little day trip to the charming tourist town. We were now back at home. It was the next morning. I was seated at the breakfast table with my first tea, sun rising above the backyard maples, a red cardinal singing on a bare branch. I reached over to my pile of books to pick up The Complete Poetry. It wasn’t there.
We considered driving up and looking for it, but we had only an hour before we needed to get ready to go visit friends in the opposite direction of Elora.
I got myself another copy of The Complete Poetry and entertain myself imagining all the possible outcomes of the one I left on the bench in the park. Teenagers found it later that night attracted to a glossy shine on the word Poetry in the moonlight. One of them took it home and is now hooked on poetry.
Or perhaps after a night of paying bills with borrowed money, a man, led by a dog, discovered the book the next morning. He is now a Maya fan and has started writing poems again.
Or could it be that two sisters walked together at sunset after finally settling a dispute that separated them for years? In the park, they happened upon a beautiful poetry book and to this day they pass it back and forth after their rekindled weekly coffee meet-ups.
Wherever the book is, no doubt it has brought some inspiration to the life of its new owner.
Something clicked for me as a teen studying poetry in my Grade 11 English class—poems seemed to say what we wouldn’t dare say out loud in regular speech. Or maybe we couldsay these things out loud—poetry dared us to do so.
To my younger self, the bold admission “I’m Nobody” in Emily Dickinson’s famous poem confidently expressed what many might feel but never say. The words flipped over the shame of it, experimenting with the idea that we might even be proud of such a statement.
Then, Dickinson bravely asks, “Who are you?” To my younger self, it was a question that reached out for connection. Those three daring words seemed to ask for more—are you like me, or are you not?
The words that begin the second stanza are relevant ideas for today’s young readers—“How dreary—to be—Somebody!/ How public—” The preference for and beauty of a private life couldn’t be more fascinating and timely an idea today as our lives are more public than ever before. The Selfie Generation might be surprised by the confidence voiced in the confession “I’m Nobody.” It might even seem impossible, or perhaps only an exciting thought experiment, to imagine refraining from telling “one's name” to the “admiring bog” or what we might compare to social media.
This famous poem is the third to appear in My Letter to the World and Other Poems from the Visions in Poetry series published by Kids Can Press. It’s one of two poems presented complete on pages of their own, while the others are spaced out carefully over several pages. On a first transparent leaf, an introductory poem functions as an invitation for readers to approach the book as a letter: “This is my letter to the World…”
Seven poems strung loosely together follow, but some spreads present two or three stanzas, some six.
Other pages display three short lines, or just two. It seems natural for Dickinson’s short lines to be spotlighted this way, bringing new light and insight to the poems you’ve read before. Meanwhile, a young reader discovering Emily Dickinson’s poems for the first time will be mesmerized by the careful placement of lines and stanzas on these pages.
Award-winning illustrator Isabelle Arsenault captures Dickinson’s loneliness, seclusion, and separateness but also her thoughtfulness, introspection, and contemplation of the world around her. Within many of the illustrations, Dickinson is depicted with her eyes and face downturned. In a few of the illustrations, her eyes look out, searchingly, as if just over the reader’s shoulder, not making contact with the reader’s own eyes, suggesting meditation with a touch of resistance. I think that young readers will be attracted to the depth of expression in words and illustration that offer a glimpse into
Dickinson’s private world.
My Letter to the World and Other Poems
written by Emily Dickinson
illustrated by Isabelle Arsenault
from the series Visions in Poetry
Kids Can Press, 2008
Ages 10 and up
I’ve been revisiting the beautiful books in this series and plan to feature a few others for upcoming Poetry Friday blog posts. They were published in hardcover and paperback between 2004 and 2014, but if you haven’t checked them out yet, My Letter to the World and Other Poems is a wonderful place to start. It’s my favourite in the series.
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The Poetry Friday Round-Up is at RandomNoodling today. Please head on over there for more inspiration!
WHAT I”VE BEEN READING
Having read and loved Jandy Nelson’s first novel
The Sky is Everywhere, a few years back, I was so excited to pick up her newest book,
I’ll Give You the Sun. Once again, gorgeous writing and unique storytelling! I’m about 100 pages in and have fallen in love with the characters, especially Noah. I’m absolutely mesmerized by his portraits in the “Invisible Museum.” I just love the way Noah sees the world and how he shares his perceptions through his artistic imaginings.
WHAT I’VE BEEN WRITING
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With my new YA novel on submission, I’m starting to think about some of the ways I’d like to restructure the plot of a previously written YA novel. The setting of this one is a private music school, and I’m looking forward to turning up my playlist for this story to help bring me back there.
WHAT WORKS FOR ME
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Options. I love that the world is full of possibility, alternate turns in the path, secret roads, surprise detours. This is my answer to writer’s block. Changing where, how, and when I put time in on a WIP can bring about unexpected and positive results. I still love my routine, but changing it up a bit feels good this fall.
WHAT ELSE I’VE BEEN UP TO
It’s been a busy back-to-school season here. I think we are all in the swing of the new fall schedule. Time is zipping by. I bought a Fitbit and inherited a treadmill. Now to put them to use…
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I’m looking forward to reading your What’s Up Wednesday posts. If you haven't participated yet, you have until midnight tonight to post a link at Erin's blog or Jaime's blog.
WHAT'S UP WEDNESDAY
I’ve been following What’s Up Wednesday through the blogs of Jaime Morrow and Erin Funk for a few months now, and I’m happy to join in this week.
WHAT I’M READING
I’m just about to start We Were Liars by E. Lockhart. I’ve heard and read great things about this book and can’t wait to dive in. I think it will be a quick read, which will please my teen daughter anxiously waiting for me to hand it over to her. We often trade books back and forth—she is currently reading my copy of The Diviners by Libba Bray. Meanwhile, she just bought Out of the Easy by Ruta Sepetys and Thirteen Reasons Whyby Jay Asher and I’ll be next in line for those.
Also on the go is a reread of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. This time around I am listening to it as an audiobook with my husband while following along with a hard copy. I picked up a few poetry books from the library yesterday, among them My Letter to the World and Other Poems by Emily Dickinson—a read-over-and-over little book gorgeously illustrated by Isabelle Arsenault.
WHAT I’M WRITING
Over the last several months, I’ve worked on a few rounds of major revisions on my YA contemporary novel. I am now in that final edit phase. Most of my writing time is focused on sharpening my cover letter and synopsis. I’m also dedicating a small amount of time every week to the writing of songs that will be included in my other completed YA novel as a part of the main character’s songbook. My poetry critique group has been a great support and source of inspiration for that project.
WHAT INSPIRES ME RIGHT NOW
Trees. I have always been a lover of trees, but I am rediscovering them this summer. Trees play a small but meaningful role in the YA novel I am about to start pitching to agents. I’ve been taking a little time each day, even if only 15 or 20 minutes, for forest bathing. I’ve been noticing the different sounds they make and have been focused on identifying a few of the trees, before I see them, by the noise their leaves make. Poplar, for example, sounds very different in the wind than the maple or oak.
I’ve been photographing trees all summer.
WHAT ELSE I'VE BEEN UP TO
I’ve been spending a lot of time with my mom. I could have included this point in the paragraph above as she has been a major source of inspiration for me. She is beautiful, wise, hilarious, generous, and grateful. She is so strong—a survivor. I continue to be blown away by the lessons she passes on to me.
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Wishing you a wonderful and productive week!
Last fall, this little snail got tired of waiting for mail back in my garden so she made her slow journey across the street and over to our shiny mailbox. I like to think that she is my messenger.
I had never seen a snail on a mailbox.We get a lot of snails in our neighbourhood after it rains between late spring and early fall. They decorate sidewalks, gardens, and front doors. And they serve as good reminders for me. Go slow. Be patient.
A snail on a writer’s mailbox seems to say something very important. I tried to decode a possible snail message here by working through a few ideas.
1. Even the most patient among us might secretly yearn for the reply to come sooner.
2. Sometimes a watched pot does boil. And if you’re there waiting and watching for it to happen, you’ll be the first to see it.
3. It’s okay for a snail to be obvious. A snail attached to a mailbox is cute—a writer attached to a mailbox is not.
Message: Hide impatience. Watch for mail carrier from afar.
This lesson can be applied to email. It seems I am always waiting for an important message to come in. Though I may look very much like the snail, stuck to my inbox—I shall feign patience, always.
Here is the lesson again presented as a syllogism:
A snail stuck to a mailbox is cute.
I am not a snail.
Therefore, I might not look that cute stuck to a mailbox.
So, back to work and practicing patience as best I can.
With the exception of delivering Mimi’s New Year wishes, I have been away from my blog for the last few months. I’ve been avoiding it, really. How do I just write something book-related and not even mention the loss of my father? But I didn’t want to dive into that here. Then again, not too long ago I wrote a tribute to my dad on his birthday, so how can I not mention it?
I’ve watched other writers and bloggers share losses and I’ve appreciated the words and taken comfort in them. I wish I were able to do the same. But here I am, four months to the day afterward, and I’m still at a loss for words.
At the end, in November, my dad and I put together some words. It was four days before he died. I asked questions and his answers became the words of a poem. My own questions stemmed from one unanswered question he wanted to address but hadn’t found just the right words for yet. I knew, from our many discussions concerning the memoir I was helping him write, that he wanted to answer this question and that it had been on his mind for years. It was the only remaining area that we had not covered for the memoir, this question.
The poem that resulted pleased him so much. He had found just the right words, finally.
We edited on his bed the next day. He was 90 but somehow just a young boy in his white t-shirt. Never did he wear a t-shirt. He was a man who always wore a dress shirt or one with a collar. He was a young boy—that came through somehow in the way the soft, white fabric rested against his chest. He was fiercely curious and hopeful, still, the way a boy would be. And he was a wise, old man. It all seemed so impossible to me—he was at the end of his life and still so young. I think he knew, but he had things, many things, to work on, he said. And things to dig up for me in his office. Always things to work on even when being in his office, right beside his bedroom, was too far a journey to walk and something only possible in his mind.
I have a small box of his things here in my writing space. They are mostly objects he kept in his office. I plan to put some of them up above my desk and over by the bookshelf. I imagine that if there is a heaven, he is up there working away in his office and workshop—puttering, envisioning, inventing, categorizing. I still see his eyes looking up at me from his desk and above his glasses. And now the keys that hung in his office will hang here in my office. I’m hoping they will remind me to be courageous and to find just the right words.
Wishing you a year
filled with
comfortable working conditions,
frequent indulgences,
enlightened perspectives,
healthy stretches,
inspiring dreams.
Happy Poetry Month!
I’m sure I’m not alone in thinking that when we witness an amazing and spontaneous occurrence in nature, there is some kind of meaning or message in it for us. The poem I am sharing today describes one of those moments. It happened a few years ago on a foggy summer morning. I was sitting in the sunroom on my purple yoga mat, staring out at our backyard and doing a little stretch before work. Then I lay flat on my back for just a few moments, closed my eyes and took in some deep breaths before sitting up again. Within the seconds that my eyes were closed, something had happened outside. Right there, standing on the nearby rocks at the edge of our tiny pond, was something staring in at me – a heron. I didn’t move. She didn’t move. And she didn’t stay for long. Two minutes—maybe? Later that day, I went out back to skim that little pond. Right there, in the tangle of lily pads, was one water lily in full bloom – the only one that ever bloomed during the short time that we lived in that house. The heron visitor seemed to have just sprung to life out of the petals and fog. I’d never had a heron visit my backyard before that day, and I haven’t had one visit since.
heron
sprung from
pink water lily
petals
she
appears
an apparition
in August
morning mist
a messenger
a still-life
a dream—
‘be patient’
she might say
but in a
blink
she is gone
—by Sheri Doyle, all rights reserved
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| The one and only water lily that bloomed in our pond that summer. |
Robyn Hood Black is hosting the Poetry Friday roundup
here.
Welcome! The Poetry Friday roundup is here.
My dad turned 90 this week. We celebrated his birthday last Saturday night with a potluck buffet, cake, music, and good conversation. He received a set of famous moustaches from my sixteen-year-old, and the guys had fun posing as Charlie Chaplin, Hulk Hogan, Salvador Dali, Magnum, P.I., and Mario. My dad wore the Albert Einstein moustache, which seemed to suit him perfectly.
When asked about his secret to living a long and full life, my dad had a simple answer – he credits his longevity to “being happy.” Well, he also offered a few practical tips: share your life with a good partner, or one good friend, look after your body, leave your worries behind when you go to sleep. But it’s my dad’s happy glow that seems to keep him young in spirit.
My dad has always been an optimist, although he has lived through his share of struggles. He was a child of the Depression, served in War World II, and nurtured a business through many ups and downs. He has seen friends and loved ones come and go, and has managed his own health challenges. Over the years, he has taught me through example to find happiness in simple things.
Now, as I assist him in writing his memoir, I am reminded again and again of this strength in perspective.
The poem “Miracles” by Walt Whitman comes to mind when I think of my dad.
Miracles |
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Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water, Or stand under trees in the woods, Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love, Or sit at table at dinner with the rest, Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car, Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon, Or animals feeding in the fields, Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright, Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring; These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles, The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.
To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, Every cubic inch of space is a miracle, Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same, Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.
To me the sea is a continual miracle, The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves— the ships with men in them, What stranger miracles are there?
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I just noticed that “light” is a theme for many of the Poetry Friday posts. By coincidence, I am sharing a poem about light by William Butler Yeats.
Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
By William Butler Yeats
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Perhaps many of you already know and love the poem. But have you heard it set to music? I hadn’t but was blown away by Mark Sirett’s composition based on Yeat’s poem.
My daughter’s high school choir performed “Cloths of Heaven” and I’m hoping that you’ll be able to hear it in the YouTube video I am attempting to embed here. I love how the choir embellishes some of the words by drawing them out and/or repeating them.
I created a video that shares the sound recording but displays the poem so that listeners can read along. But you can also click to play it and then scroll up to the top of this post where the poem might be easier to read.
Hope you enjoy it!
My heart goes out to everyone affected by Hurricane Sandy.
To help with the relief effort, Kate Messner is hosting KidLitCares—an online talent auction.
Please check out the Skype author visits, manuscript critiques, and other services available to bid on here. Winners will make donations, their highest bid, to the Red Cross disaster relief fund.
Such a great idea!
Although there were some discussions over whether or not we should postpone it until Hurricane Sandy's last winds had blown through our city, Halloween was a go here tonight.
So we strung pumpkin lights, carved jack-o'-lanterns, and set out bowls of treats.
Some friendly baseball players handed out candy to the trick-or-treaters
so that I, Mary Shelley, could get some writing done.
Perhaps it was the haunting mood of the entire evening that allowed the words to flow.
I'll put my pen down for another night, but my mind cannot rest. The story is always with me.
Happy Halloween!
After several drafts and many rounds of revisions, my YA novel is a polished document stored on my desktop and a few other places. As I step back and look around, it’s obvious that I need to do something about all of this paper. I want a different approach to organization with my next novel.
So I treated myself to a new writing tool—one I’m hoping will help get some of the paper organized into one tidy place on my computer. Yes, I finally got Scrivener and I’m excited to start learning how to use it. The corkboard feature sounds especially helpful for organizing scenes. I’m hoping Scrivener is the answer to my very organized paper mess.
I know that I won’t eliminatethe use of paper altogether, but I’d like to reduce the amount of it I use. Looking around my office, I’m noticing six types of paper I use often. Each type serves a unique purpose.
I use
notebooksfor plotting, the pre-writing of scenes, ideas for alternate scenes, the brainstorming of names and places, doodling and daydreaming about characters. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give up my beloved notebooks.
I turn to cue cards to create plot walls. Scrivener’s corkboard feature can definitely help with this.
When I’m typing away, I so often reach for
notes to jot down a reminder about a character or an event so that I can go back and make sure I’ve been consistent with changes I’ve made. I reach for the notes to write down words, images, or scenes that I want to see in a future chapter while I’m already hard at work on a current chapter. These notes pile up and I can imagine that there must be a better way of managing them. Scrivener?
When I break from the computer to go get a tea in the kitchen, I’ll often think of a better way to word something, or come up with solution to a problem. I always end up grabbing
paper towels or mail
envelopesto scribble on and those pile up with the notes back up in the office. Maybe I can work out a system to type up written notes and store them in Scrivener as well.
Computer papertakes up the most space in my office. I can’t imagine editing without a hard copy of my work at every stage of the game but I’d like to keep critiques sent via email from writing partners in my computer to cut down on printing.
I will share what I learn about Scrivener in future posts. If you use it, I’d love to hear about it. I know I’ll still reach for sticky notes and paper towels and I'll definitely scribble out ideas in a notebook, but I’m hoping that Scrivener will de-clutter at least some of these piles of paper.
A little over a week ago, we travelled north for an hour and a half to visit the Georgian Bay area for a few days. Once there, we enjoyed the sun and beaches, the pines and poplars, and a movie outside under the stars.
The hilly drive there and back is something I always look forward to because of the gorgeous farms that we pass on our way. For miles, bright green or yellow fields stretch out toward the horizon as far as our eyes can see. Roaming freely over those hills, are the stars of this scenic show. Horses gallop within white fences or sip from streams, their manes flowing in the breeze. Cows graze in pastures, or rest in the shade of trees. Pigs lounge closer to red barns set against blue skies.
We never tire of this scene, interrupting each other in conversation to point and say, “Look!” and the teenagers in the backseats exclaiming a combined “Aww!” with more volume than you’d expect. The fact that they were wearing earphones might have had something to do with it but I still enjoyed their enthusiasm.
The farm fun was not over as we pulled into our driveway, arriving back home. We noticed a box half-hidden by our doormat. I broke open the box to find the adorable faces of cows, horses and pigs looking up from book covers at me. The books I wrote for Capstone’s new Farm Animals series are now available!
The books are intended for PreK-Grade 2 readers. Through leveled text, kids will experience 'a day in the life' of each farm animal. The photographs are absolutely stunning and feature cows grazing in fields, pigs at play, and horses in action. Kids will learn interesting facts like how soon after birth a calf can stand, why pigs like to roll in mud, and how tall the biggest horses are.
You can preview the books at the
Capstone website. Once there, simply click on the book cover or title. On a new page, you'll see a preview option directly underneath the book. Hope you trot on over and check them out! : )
Throughout the process of writing my novel, I stopped in my tracks and tried walking in another direction. At other times, I slipped off my main character’s shoes and walked a mile or two in the shoes of other characters, which helped me think outside of the first person perspective. To achieve all of this, I opened up a new ‘experimental’ document.
This technique worked on two levels. First, when something felt a little ‘off’ in the direction a character decided to take in my original document, I could still move forward knowing in the back of my mind that I could experiment later. Sometimes the ‘off’ feeling was smoothed over once I wrote a little more and realized why my character needed to do/say what he or she did. Having that ‘experimental document’ just sitting on my desktop, waiting to be opened, allowed me to move forward with a possibly iffy decision.
But then if that off feeling only worsened, that’s when I’d turn to the experimental document. Writing in the openness of the new document, allowed my character the freedom to feel out or test other trails, stumble upon new things she hadn’t known about herself.
Having the safety net of the original just sitting there for me to go back to allowed for risk-taking. I
Writing my novel has been a process of ‘two steps forward, one step back’ because I was not able to take the advice of some writers and just plunge forward without looking back. I did turn around and ponder. I sometimes second-guessed the motives or choices of my characters. I challenged them to take risks. I tried different approaches to scenes.
As I wrote and I changed something about a character, or about the plot, I couldn’t help myself from going back and making related changes throughout the novel as I wrote the first draft. I revised as I went along. I took breaks. I set the manuscript aside often to gain perspective. After two years of working this way, I finally finished a first draft of my YA novel.
At first, I was in shock. My reaction? No reaction. Again, I put the manuscript to the side and took a deep breath. I exhaled. And then, a few days later, came a great sense of satisfaction. Not that my novel is anywhere near perfect or ready for submission but this first draft is complete. It is currently 68, 696 words and 242 pages in length.
Now, as I wait for feedback from a few people, I am hoping to develop some emotional distance from the novel so that I can be as open as possible to critiques.
In a week or so, after absorbing feedback, I’ll move on to another round of revisions.
When you finish a first draft of a piece of writing, how do you prepare yourself for the next stage of revision?
It's actually Sunday, April 29th where I am but Blogger's time zone, I just realized, is Pacific Daylight Time so this post will come up as Saturday, April 28th. I am still up at midnight so I decided to post now.
I’ve had so much fun discovering a new line in the Progressive Poem each day this month! Thanks again,
Irene, for organizing this.
If you are reading this
you must be hungry
Kick off your silver slippers
Come sit with us a spell
A hanky, here, now dry your tears
And fill your glass with wine
Now, pour. The parchment has secrets
Smells of a Moroccan market spill out.
You have come to the right place, just breathe in.
10 Comments on Kidlitosphere Progressive Poem - Day 29, last added: 4/30/2012
I’m a little late getting my Poetry Friday post up but it’s still Friday and I had a lot of fun putting this together.
This week, I played around with some ideas for found poems. From what I understand, a found poem is one created out of words and phrases that are pulled from another work. The words and phrases are then placed together to create something entirely new and unique.
A poem can be ‘found’ in a speech, a song, a letter, a manual, an advertisement, a newspaper article, or in any written text.
Here is a found poem I created out of a rejection letter.
April
thank you for
green
we do hope
and continue to search
thank you again for
green
we do wish
And here is a found poem I created from an acceptance letter.
consulted for his wisdom
look forward
we will run around the world
cut and paste
an ancient language,
tongue twisters,
limericks and haiku
if you find
a convoluted path
don’t worry
make the poems
your own
Here’s a found poem I created out of some album titles.
This Women’s Work
After the Gold Rush
Ladies of the Canyon
Shine a Light
1 Comments on Poetry Friday: Found Poetry, last added: 4/29/2012
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Sheri, what a beautiful tribute to your dad! Happy Birthday, 90!
Thank you for hosting this week's Poetry Friday. Amy VanDerwater and I had fun co-writing "Unplugged," illustrated by my son, Chip Ghigna. We've posted the results on her blog at The Poem Farm and at the FATHER GOOSE Blog
Thanks for hosting, Sheri! "Miracles" is a beautiful Whitman poem. Love your tribute to your dad! =)
Hi Sheri! Congratulations to your dad on reaching 90 years! He's right--being happy is the key to longevity! I have an aunt who is well past 90 and still going strong. I know her happiness is strong, life-affirming, and contagious.
My three posts will all go live after midnight. Thanks.
Hi, Sheri. Thanks for posting links early! Happy birthday to your father. Ninety -- the miracle of a long life is worth celebrating. Friday is my birthday and I'm winding down my weeks-long poetry postcard project. I mail out the last card today.
Today's poetry postcard is about February 22. http://authoramok.blogspot.com/2013/02/poetry-friday-poetry-postcard-38.html
Thank you for hosting Sheri. Wonderful post for your father. I like your writing about his 'happy glow'-his gift to everyone I imagine. Happy 90th Birthday to him! I have two original poems inspired from a blog post by Joy Acey at Poetry for Kids, about 'minute' poems.
Thanks for hosting and CHEERS to your dad!
This week's poems is called "A Thought" http://mmsocks.wordpress.com/2013/02/21/a-thought/
Enjoy!
M. M. Socks
What a lovely tribute to your dad, and thanks for hosting!
Happy birthday to your dad, and what a perfect poem to offer! I've submitted my link above, but in case it doesn't work (a few weeks ago, I posted it three times and it never took), here's the link: http://mattforrest.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/poetry-friday-monster-supper/ (won't be live til just after midnight)
Thanks for hosting!
Happy Birthday to your Dad -- what great photos of him, and a perfect poem to celebrate the happy occasion!
At Alphabet Soup I'm sharing Robert Bly's "Things to Think." (My link goes live at 6 a.m. EST)
Thanks so much for hosting this week.
Gorgeous entry! Thank you for hosting!
Oh, whoops, I just realized I posted the wrong link. The other day I wrote a poem ("The Poem House," that's the link above) about my daughter reading some Dickinson and Sandburg poems to me. For Poetry Friday, I've shared the poems she loved best, which are quoted in my poem. If you follow that. ;) Anyway, here's the PF link: http://melissawiley.com/blog/2013/02/21/poetry-friday-between-two-hills/
Hey, Sheri--thanks for hosting! Welcome to the Kids of Parents Who Are 90 Club! How wonderful that you and he are writing his memoir. Over at TeachingAuthors we're tossing out recommendations of our favorite books on teaching the craft of writing, and I've posted an original poem on jealousy. :-)
Thank you for sharing your father's wisdom and this beautiful poem! My post about J. Patrick Lewis's Monumental Verses is here: http://readingtothecore.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/poetry-friday-…-patrick-lewis/
Thanks for hosting!
Beautiful tribute to your dad! I'll bet you are doing a terrific job with his memoir. Thanks for hosting!
Beautiful post. Happy 90th birthday to your father. Thank you for hosting today.
Sheri, Miracles indeed! Love this snapshot of your dad -- and what a wonderful project to work on together. Thanks you so much for hosting and for sharing this bit of your life.
Thank you for hosting today, Sheri! It must be such a gift to you both to create this memoir together, a wonderful opportunity to share and learn.
Sheri, I submitted my link last night, but it's not showing - so I just re-submitted it. Here it is again: http://mattforrest.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/poetry-friday-monster-supper
Thanks,
Matt
I tried to submit my link, but it says it's too long. Here it is: http://thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com/2013/02/poetry-friday-sonnet-for-my-sub.html I have an original poem today.
Thanks for hosting! It's true -- there are miracles everywhere we look.
Sorry you had trouble.
I was able to submit your info and link and it worked. : )
Thanks, Matt!
Matt (above) had trouble too. I was able to submit his info for him. The form asks for an email address and I can't see one on your blog. If you'd like to send me your email address, I'll submit your link and hopefully it will work.
Thank you, Charles!
Thanks, Bridget!
Happy Birthday to your Dad! And thanks for the reminder about the everyday miracles - great poem!
Thanks, Diane. I love that happiness is contagious!
Happy birthday to your inspirational dad! I loved his advice and think it is just wonderful that you are writing together. Thank you for hosting today's roundup. Over at The Poem Farm, I have a poem that I wrote together with Charles Ghigna... http://www.poemfarm.amylv.com/2013/02/unplugged-writing-with-friend.html
Thanks, Sheri!
Hi Sheri,
Thank you for hosting Poetry Friday today! I just love this tribute to your dad. He sounds like a great man and a wonderful role model! Happy 90th birthday to him.
Today I’m feeling grateful and have written a blessing septet at The Writer’s Whimsy. http://tamerawillwissinger.squarespace.com/the-writers-whimsy/2013/2/22/how-lucky-can-one-gal-be.html
Thanks again,
Tamera
Thanks! Happy Birthday to you! : )
Yes, my dad's 'happy glow' is definitely a gift to everyone - I like the way you put that. Thanks, Linda!
Thank you! : )
Thanks, Laura! : )
Thanks, Sheri. I got some help and learned how to shorten the url! The form took my link and I learned a new skill, too. :-)
Thank you, Matt!
Fabulous post! Happy birthday to your dad -- lucky you to still have him with you, to be helping with his memoir, to get to see that infectious smile on a regular basis!!
Thanks for hosting this week.
Happy birthday to your dad. Enjoy every moment with him. What a great poem
Here's my link: http://maclibrary.wordpress.com/2013/02/22/poetry-friday-getting-ready-for-national-poetry-month/
Thanks.
I filled out the form for you so you'll see the link up in the list too. : )
Thank you for sharing all of this. Moustaches! What a wonderful gift. And your Whitman poem. What a great gift to all of us. This is exactly the perspective we need to carry with us.
Thanks for hosting.
Ny selection is -- "Be glad your nose is on your face and other poems: some of the best of Jack Prelutsky" with illustrations by Brandon Dorman.
Here's to your dad's next full year and your work together! Thanks for hosting and the Whitman words.
Happy Birthday to your Dad - what a beautiful smile. And a beautiful cake! Thank you for reminding me of Walt Whitman's poem - and for hosting.
This week I say Happy Purim via Debjani Chatterjee and Brian D'Arcy's wonderful anthology Let's Celebrate!, as I had the great good fortune to have a coffee with them yesterday.
Thank you, Jama!
Thanks! : )
I entered your info again so the PF link appears now. : )
Ha - glad to be a part of the club!
Thanks, April!
Thank you for reading my post! : )
Thanks, Tabatha. Yes, the memoir has been a lot of fun. : )
Thanks!! : )
Thank you, Irene! Just discovered over at your blog that we were both in the mood for some Walt Whitman. Awesome.
Oh, yes - I'm definitely learning a lot.
Thanks, Tara! : )
Oh, good!
Thank you!!
I just got done reading the posts. Thanks so much for hosting and for the beautiful post you wrote.
Thanks, Amy!
Thank you, Tamera!
Lucky is exactly how I feel. Thanks, Mary Lee. : )
Yes, we had a blast with the moustaches. So glad you enjoyed the post. Thanks!
Thanks, Janet!
Thanks, Lorie Ann!
Thank you for the kind words, Marjorie!
Thanks again, Ruth!