Poetry Postcard 5

I mailed out the fifth postcard yesterday, January 5. One day to catch up on writing before next week's batch of poetry postcards go in the mail.

Today is busy for a Sunday. We'll finish packing up our holiday decorations because it's the Feast of the Epiphany. Our beloved Ravens face the Indianapolis Colts tomorrow at 1 PM -- Mr. S should be home from his parents' house in time for the game. And, I am reading with some friends at Minas Gallery in Baltimore, 4 PM. (Remember this cartoonification of local poets?)

All this, plus getting the kids ready to return, at long last, to school.

What I need in my life is some balance. That and a notion that one can persevere, but maintain a sense of lightness.

"A collection of original butterfly watercolors by the early
19th century artist Chevalier de Freminville" from
the Cecil B. Day Butterfly Center, Callaway Gardens, Georgia.

Symmetry

Trick mirrors reveal

the human face is never folded

in perfect halves. Perhaps

this is true of the butterfly, too.

Pin one up and there’s

a cuffed wing, damaged tail,

scales so thin with wear

sunlight comes through.

After hundreds of miles,
one might call them frail.

Laura Shovan

Speaking of lightness, this poem recently lost a first stanza.

It was about a 10th grade Biology project: trapping and preserving insects, identifying them and displaying them in a shadow box. Whether it was laziness or disgust, I couldn't do it. An 11th grade neighbor let me "borrow" some of the specimens from his project.

Remember when MFA candidate Jennifer Della'Zanna visited and we were talking about on-ramps in writing? That high school memory was a poetic false start. It was a necessary entry into the poem, but only for me as a writer. The butterfly doesn't need to be weighed down by my issues.

 

There is an extensive collection of insects at Nottingham's
Wollaton Hall, which Julia enjoyed photographing.
The most recent Batman movie was shot there. Wayne Manor?

What's this poetry postcard project all about? Read about it here. Want a postcard? Let me know.

Craft Talk: False Starts

Beginnings keep coming up when I’m discussing writing. It doesn’t matter whether the person I’m talking to writes poetry or prose. We all seem to create some kind of way-in to the story or poem, just like a ramp onto the highway, so we can build up speed and get on the route to wherever the piece is taking us.

Look out, writers, for the slow merge.

The problem is, the on-ramp that worked for us, as authors, now feels clumsy or tacked on. It’s hard to see that in your own writing. I had a poem I was struggling with. I knew it was a good piece, but every time I sent it out, it got a rejection. After a year (a *year!*), I realized first stanza was an on-ramp. The lines made sense to me as I was finding a way into the poem. They were an accurate record of my line of thought, but the poem itself was better without them.

Here is my dear friend, historical fantasy author Jennifer Della’Zanna, talking about false starts and on-ramps. Jen is an MFA candidate at Seton Hill University’s popular fiction program.

Writer Jennifer Della'Zanna.

False Starts

Thank you for having me over here at Author Amok, Laura! I’m a big fan, as you know.

One of my favorite posts of yours talked about beginnings of poems, and how sometimes we use those beginnings to get into what you really wanted to write about—kind of like an on-ramp to the actual poem. I thought it was funny, because the same thing happens when writing a novel, although sometimes that on-ramp can last for a chapter or two, adding up to 20 or 30 pages. That’s a long on-ramp!

I wanted to share with you my own experience with this problem. My first novel is my thesis for my Master of Fine Arts degree in Writing Popular Fiction at Seton Hill University, and it had to gain my two mentors’ approval in order for me to graduate.

I was in love with my opening chapter for the longest time. It started in medias res, as we all know these things should. Lots happened—birth of a baby, attempted kidnapping, magic that the main character didn’t know she had. As I wrote, and as more people provided feedback, many readers were confused about the events. My novel is a historical fantasy set in ancient Egypt, so the setting was foreign to most readers. I decided I needed a little bit of a build-up, so I wrote one. I started the story a little before the action—really only a few hours in the time of my story! I took the time to describe the setting and the “normal life” of my character. The only problem was, my mentors now thought it moved too slowly.

So I thought it was time to defend my choices. My story follows the “hero’s journey.”

Jen's "Battle Plan" for her book hero's journey.

In this type of story, it’s important to set up the world of the common day, make the reader identify with the hero and be drawn into the world and the story before fantastic events start to happen. I thought this supported my new chapter; however, I decided it did need more tension. I set up conflicts between the main character and her mother, the main character and other priestesses, and the priestesses and the main character’s mother. There were lots of conflicting feelings going on, and I rubbed my hands in anticipation of success.

Writing a novel can be like doing construction work.

Alas, both mentors still thought the opening was too slow. I was at a loss as to what to do next. Then, a friend confided that he’d submitted his work to a contest and didn’t win. The contest was to send the first 250 words, and the winners would get to send their first three chapters to an agent. His first 250 words didn’t make the cut, and I felt bad because I had critiqued his novel through several rewrites, and I thought it was strong. I suggested that he send me just the first 250 words again, without anything else.

How revealing! His first 250 words were not compelling. I couldn’t believe they were the same words I’d read many, many times.

So, I tried the same thing with my own work, and I got the same result! Standing on their own, my first 250 words don’t work quite as well as I thought they would. Result? It’s time to perform some major surgery on my first chapter. My on-ramp is too long, and it needs to be chopped off. Now, I just have to figure out where to cut it!

From this experience, I think we can agree that any kind of writing—poems, novels, newspaper articles, and research papers—can all benefit from a look or three at where we begin, and, most importantly, what that says about where we end.

Thanks again for letting me stop by your blog, Laura. I had a great time, and I look forward to hearing what your readers have to say about their own experiences with beginnings in their own work.

Thanks for guest blogging, Jen! Congratulations on your upcoming graduation and good luck with the book.

Writers: I think Jen gives great advice here. Take the beginning of your piece – the first stanza, chapter, or 250 words – and put it on a page by itself. Ask someone to read it, or put it away for awhile before you look at it. Is this a piece of good, intriguing writing on its own? If not, it’s probably time to lose your on-ramp.

Jennifer Della’Zanna was very happy making a living as a freelance writer for several years before a story invaded her head and wouldn’t leave her alone. She found National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) in 2006 and thought she’d get the story out of her system. She did, but then another story occurred to her, and another, and another. A couple years ago, she sat her family down and broke the news that she wanted to go back to school to study fiction. She now writes historical fantasy set in ancient worlds, with a strong emphasis on mythology. Although her family remembers fondly the days when she used to cook and do laundry, they have been extremely supportive anyway, and she will graduate from Seton Hill in January with a Master of Fine Arts (MFA) in Writing Popular Fiction. Chaos Rules, a historical fantasy set in ancient Egypt is Jennifer’s first book. She and her family live in Columbia, Maryland.

Seton Hill University is located in Pennsylvania.