Is a workshop for you?

Let me introduce Ann Howells, my dear poet friend whose depth of experience makes this post a valuable one!

Bio: Ann Howells’s poetry recently appeared in Borderlands, Calyx, Crannog (Ire), Free State Review, RiverSedge, and Third Wednesday among others. She serves on the board of Dallas Poets Community, a 501-c-3 non-profit, and has edited its journal, Illya’s Honey, since 1999. Her chapbook, Black Crow in Flight, was published by Main Street Rag Publishing (2007). Another chapbook, the Rosebud Diaries, was published in limited edition by Willet Press (2012). She won first in The Legendary’s Bukowski contest in 2011, was a finalist in both NavWorks and Southern Hum contests in 2008, won first in the Southwest Writer’s Club poetry contest in 2006, and was named a “distinguished poet of Dallas” by the Dallas Public Library in 2001. Her work was read on NPR, and she was interviewed on local television in Annapolis, MD. She has been nominated twice for both the Pushcart and Best of the Net.

Picture the writer, an emaciated poet, bent over his desk, working late into the night by the light of a candle stub. He is wrapped in a blanket, but still shivers in his drafty garret room. Granted, our circumstances are likely not so dire, but writing is a solitary pursuit. Other than readings, lectures, and the occasional poetry festival, how can the writer make contacts with and benefit from other writers? Enter, the workshop.

I am, perhaps, a bit biased, as I have workshopped for over twenty years. During that time I have stayed consistently with Dallas Poets Community, but at various times, I have also belonged to two other groups. Each had its advantages and disadvantages. Not every workshop will be a good fit for a particular writer. It is a good idea, when considering a workshop, to visit once or twice (with or without bringing a poem) and take part in discussion. A poet who writes only sonnets might feel uncomfortable in a group where everyone else is writing in free verse; on the other hand, all participants might benefit from the mix. The sonnet writer might find a different type of critique helpful and be able, in return, to teach other participants something about writing in form. Also, if other participants are a bit more accomplished, you may learn from them. If they are less accomplished, you have an opportunity to teach and to view your poems as a reader might. If members are genuinely interested in poetry, offer constructive criticism and avoid ego, the group will work.

Finding a workshop takes a bit of research. You might ask at your local recreation center or public library where poetry workshops often meet. Check bulletin boards. Ask other poets for recommendations. Find a group on-line; there are many. Some have flourished for years. If all else fails, find several like-minded individuals and start your own group. I have heard tales of workshops in which name-dropping and self-aggrandizement seemed the norm and critique was often hurtful. I have never encountered such a group (and suspect they are urban myths). Another complaint about workshops is that, eventually, everyone’s poems begin to sound the same. I suppose that could possibly happen, but I find it hard to imagine a writer so willing to give up his own voice.

Some workshops charge a fee per meeting, some require you to send your work to other members up to several weeks ahead of the workshop. Some groups exist mainly to approve each other’s work and give little critique beyond spelling and grammar. Some have been meeting together for years and will be difficult for a new member to enter.

Let me tell you about my workshop group, Dallas Poets Community. Our group currently has eight to twelve attendees at each workshop, a good number for a two hour workshop. We have a good mix of sexes, ages (we’ve had as young as 16 up to mid-80s) religious preferences, and ethnicities. A wide variety of occupations are represented. Anyone seriously interested in writing good poetry is welcome. Our meetings are open. Those of us who have been with the group a while can generally recognize a poem by another member of the group by the individual voice (which we consider proof that workshopping has not made our writing generic).

We begin critique by having a member do a cold reading of another poet’s work. This allows the poet to really listen to what he has written. It allows him to catch sound patterns and places where his writing does not flow. Then, the poet rereads his work aloud. After that, he remains quiet as the group discusses the poem, trying to answer four questions:

What is happening in the poem?
What is working in the poem?
What is not working in the poem?
Where might the poem be elaborated or expanded?

We make it a point to critique the technique used and never the philosophy behind a particular poem, and we encourage everyone to voice their thoughts, even dissenting opinions. We also offer suggestions for places where the poem might be submitted, and let the poet know of any other poems on a similar topic or in a similar style that he might want to read. At the end of this discussion, the poet may ask any questions he has about the poem that were not answered or request further clarification about points made.

We bring enough copies of our poem for each person to have one on which is can write comments and either keep or return to the poet. A good workshop will allow you to see your work as an editor might see it, encourage thoughtful revision and allow you to develop your own voice. The Dallas Poets Community workshop has been meeting twice monthly for twenty-three years. We have included high school students, college students, retirees, MFAs, PhDs, and even the occasional songwriter. Some have stayed, some have moved away, some have left and returned, and some gone on to other pursuits. I credit the turnover with keeping the group from becoming stale and predictable. That said, currently five of our members have books published by national presses; one has two. Most of the group has work in a variety of small press and university journals.

If you are new to workshopping, keep in mind that your work will be criticized. If you believe revisions alter the original thought and make it inauthentic, workshops are not for you. If you feel compelled to defend every word you’ve written, workshops are not for you. If you keep an open mind and consider changes other suggest, you might benefit from workshopping, but remember, it is your poem and recommendations put forth can be rejected as well as accepted.

Use what you like, ignore the rest.

TIP!

Find Dallas Poetry Community on Facebook or their website:

http://dallaspoetscom.org/index.html

https://www.facebook.com/DallasPoetsCommunity

"Is my poem good?"

In workshops and classrooms, at conferences and the coffeehouse, writers ask me, "Is my poem good?"

Hate to say it, but the reader is the only one who can answer you, and each one is different. Even as a reader, I might say, "This poem stirs my heart, tickles my brain, makes me laugh, punches me in the gut." But does that make it good? Possibly.

"But good enough?" the poet presses me. Relax for a minute. Throw your beret on the coffee table. Let's talk. What most of us want to know is:

• Does my work inspire someone besides me? 
• Do I have talent?
• Is my work publishable?
• Will a press ever publish my book?
• Can I get accepted into an MFA program with these poems?

 Again, tough to answer. One way to find out is to submit your work and see what happens. Apply to the program and see what happens. Put together a collection and submit to small presses and contests. Your work will either float, so to speak, or it won't. Even if it doesn't, your poems might be good. Rejected, but good.

So I can't tell you if your poem is good. BUT, I can offer you a Poem Score Card. This is a self-appraisal, which means that you can lie to yourself, but be honest. See how your poem scores.

• Images (0-5 points)
  A perfect five looks like this: The poem includes concrete words that refer to objects, phrases that engage the reader's senses, figures of speech, active verbs, and specific nouns.
• Voice (0-5 points)
  A perfect five looks like this: The poem uses unusual word combinations, fresh turns of phrase, flavorful wording; it posits a specific world view, conveys a personality, and creates a character that the reader wants to hear from.
• Sound (0-5)
  A perfect five looks like this: The poem repeats consonants, repeats vowels, varies short and long phrases musically, avoids clumsy rhymes, pulses with an underlying beat or beat pattern, uses harsh letters (such as T and K) to convey harshness, uses soft letters (such as S and M) to convey softness, uses repetition of words or phrases.
• Form (0-5)
  A perfect five looks like this: The poem's lines break at interesting places. The white space is used deliberately. Stanzas cohere or follow a plan, and their lengths harmonize. Line lengths follow a pattern or vary intentionally.
• Substance (0-5)
  A perfect five looks like this: The poem offers a new insight, shares a unique perspective, explores a human truth in a fresh way, teaches about a little-known part of the world or human activity, or conveys a hard-earned lesson.

Still want to know if your poem is good? See if you can take The Poem Vow.

Repeat after me:

I, (your name), do solemnly affirm that I have used my imagination, my wisdom, my ingenuity, and my best writing skills to make this poem bloom fully. I further affirm that I have considered every line, every word, every figure of speech, and that I have given it everything it needs to go out into the world. I now release it to live the best life it can.

If you can take the Poem Vow, then don't pull out your hair trying to decide if the poem is good. Work hard on it, then send it out. Wave your handkerchief to it at the Post Office, if you must, but set it free.

What the Judge is Looking For

A renovated warehouse + cookies + guitar music + people reading poems.  It adds up to a lovely evening at Trinity Valley Community College's Poetry Festival.  I just drove home from it, and I can report that the creative vibes of the evening are still with me!

To celebrate National Poetry Month, TVCC invites a poet to give a reading and judge their student poetry contest.  The top student poets receive recognition, and all the poems appear in a journal.  This year, I was honored to be their visiting poet and judge.  THANKS to everyone who made the event such a success!

As I listened to the winning poems tonight, I remembered the qualities that made me choose each one.  A great image here, a clever line there.  An unusual topic.  A musical cadence.  They sounded even better in person!

In the back of my mind, though, I also recalled poems that fell short of their potential.  Actually, I didn't recall the poems themselves, but the missteps that landed them in the "no" pile.  Any of the contest entries could have been great poems, but only a few stood out.  How did those few grab my attention?  I'll tell you.

A few weeks ago, a bulging envelope arrived, and I sat down with a two-inch stack of poems.  My assignment: whittle it down to ten.  In the first pass, I hoped to find
1) sensory language that made me imagine sights, sounds, smells, and taste
2) metaphors, simile, personification, or other figures of speech
3) interesting topic choice
4) concrete details
5) sound play beyond predictable rhymes

With this, I eliminated more than half.  Poems that used all abstractions or rhymed in a nursery way, I set aside immediately.  Poems about love (which was most of them!) got boring fast.  Very short and very long poems felt like drafts.

Next, I reread.  Now I looked for:
1) complex emotional situations
2) heft or gravitas in the issues raised by the poem
3) humor that made me laugh, but also revealed a new perspective
4) a strong voice that used fresh language
5) harsh situations articulated with harsh sounds, like "t" and "ck"
6) gentle situations articulated with gentle sounds like "sh" and "w"
7) meaningful line breaks
8) meaningful arrangement on the page and use of white space

This gave me a stack of about twenty.  I read a third time and a fourth.  Only a handful of these twenty revealed a little more every time.  Those turned out to be the winners.  Poems that kept me coming back.

I've judged about twenty contests in recent years, and I'm going to confess something:  There's no foolproof way to rank or even fairly compare equally solid poems.  Sometimes a clear "best one" emerges, but more often I'm left agonizing, trying to find a reason to choose one over another.  At this point, each judge will go with her gut.  For me, this means asking myself crazy stuff like which poem I would want a copy of or which poem I wish I had written.  I might feel pulled to poems that touch on experiences I've had or philosophies I agree with.  I might pick a poem that seems more novel and unusual or one that attempts something challenging.  It's just plain unpredictable.

But, this is comforting.  It means that your poem might be very good and still not take first place.  Once it's polished to shine as much as possible, you can relax and not worry so much about what the results mean.  I enter contests, too, and I'm going to try taking my own advice.

Meanwhile, I hope the students at tonight's Festival enjoyed themselves, win or lose.  Just the act of writing is life-affirming and worthwhile.  To all the writers in that room:  Stay creative and keep writing!

Should I join writing group?

Every year or so, I ask myself this question!  Here's my answer.

Writers of all levels can benefit from sharing their work with a trusted reader.  As a beginning writer, I found those trusted readers at a local writing group.  I'd print out a new poem and carry it breathlessly to the meeting.  If even one person gave a positive or helpful comment, I was thrilled.  I gotta admit, though, that as I gained in confidence and experience, I drifted away from established groups and switched to sharing my work with a couple of writer-friends.  Still, I'd encourage folks to try a group.  The company of other writers can nourish us like nothing else!

TRYING A GROUP
A Google search will help you find a local group.  Public libraries often host writers' groups, too, or can point you in the right direction.  Writers meet online as well.  I like http://poetry.meetup.com/.  Just type in your zip code and - shazam! - you'll see a list of writing organizations near you.

If you do try a writing group, keep a few things in mind:

• Each group has its own culture.  If you visit once, and it feels like a fit, great.  If not, there's probably another group out there that will suit you better.
• The critique you receive will vary in quality.  You're the AUTHORity on your own work, so be open to suggestions, but trash comments that are unhelpful.
• Not all writers in the group are going to write much.  Realize that some of them gather for social reasons, putting that first and writing second.
• Some groups charge dues or fees; others don't.  Check the group's website for details.  If the group does collect money, find out what it's used for.  Typically, the cash covers the costs of renting the meeting space or bringing in guest speakers.
• Be ready to separate people's work from their personal identity.  Don't assume that the poem reflects the poet's life or you'll offend someone.  When you critique, focus on the craft (word choices, metaphor, sound play, etc.), not the political views or cultural values of the poem.

WRITING GROUP BENEFITS
Participating in a writing group gave me:
1) deadlines for writing new poems
2) permission to focus energy on writing
3) a sense of community

Though I don't belong to a formal group right now, I'm glad I did.