gratitude

imageIn May, I participated in a poetry competition that is unique in that the work is evaluated anonymously by the other writers in the competition. At the conclusion of the contest, you can access your feedback and see the names of the other participants if they’ve chosen to reveal their identity.

I use this contest to expose my most experimental writing to the feedback of several potentially unbiased poets.

When I’m in the spirit to start revising the works, I pull out that feedback and glean what gold may be found therein.

In the past, I’ve been disappointed by weak feedback and in many cases no feedback (where you are assigned a ranking against five other competitors but no comments). In my value system, a low ranking with detailed commentary is invaluable. I’ve even garnered a writing colleague from that very circumstance. A first place finish with no feedback is nice, but not particularly useful for my reason in participating in the contest. It is pleasant to feel that your work is liked, but if you don’t know what is or isn’t working for your readership, it is harder to gauge if something could be done to magnify your impact.

Going through the comments from my last submission, I was touched and encouraged by a few thoughtful comments on my work. It struck me that rather than have those comments lost in cyberspace, that I could memorialize them here—in gratitude.

Thank you to all of my evaluators for your constructive comments on my work.

“A very exciting read. I really enjoyed these poems. I like the experimental style, because it doesn’t come out as “forced.” It’s like «the content» has decided «the shape», and so it feels natural. The poems carry with them a fascinating blend of “mundaneness & passion & longing & coolness & city life & honesty & craving,” and the richness of this whole submission really speaks to me. Great work!” — Gisle Skeie

“The poems you have penned were great views into a new world for me. I was very interested in the many journeys I was able to experience. The unique perspective and levels of description definitely separate you from other poets[…] I feel like you are never afraid to try new things and challenge tradition. The knowledge mixed with vulnerability in some of your work creates a connection that very few can escape.” — Marcus Wright

Slim Tuesday was absolutely heart-breaking. The lines in your poem, Part [For] Me, “baby don’t call me callous when your looks are engraved in me scripted all along the back of my right shoulder” hold such powerful imagery that to call them merely beautiful seems like an insult to your artistic talent. They are raw, they are honest, and they made me feel in the depth of my heart this fire and anger and longing to be heard…god damn it! You should be proud of your work.” — Anonymous

writing competitions

Istained glass maple 2 have a love/hate relationship with word count. I want the story to take all the time it needs to unfold, on the other hand…I am intensely attracted and insanely infuriated by the challenge of the limitation. I think I could tell any story in 2000 words but in 1500 or even 1200? That is where your writing rubber hits the narrative road. My current project ended at over 2700 words and needs to get down to 1500 and still deliver its emotional payload. I edit and edit with the deadline approaching vacillating between a fury of frustration with myself to keep all the threads of the story present and in order and spiritual euphoria when what I am wanting in the story comes to me. A short short story requirement forces the aesthetic of poetry on the form of prose.

the historian ibn khaldun once said

“To write is to risk being misread or misunderstood. Words that survive their author are cut loose. They drift, take new shape, sprout new meanings. And there is always their ordinary ambiguity.”

I have taken a little bit of heat for my short stories that I do not feel is justified. After giving the criticism some consideration, I’ve concluded my stories are not for everyone, and misunderstanding can’t be avoided. Some people can only hear what they already believe.

struggle

author stephanie robertsi realized today, that the biggest struggle of an artist, next to doing the work, is the fight, not to become discouraged. a breeze can bring you down, but it takes a construction team of a hundred, and a bucket of your blood to build one sound story. – march 31, 2011

Writing fiction…

Quote

Writing fiction helped my poetry because writing is good for writing.