Poetry Friday

I am not a poet, nor even much of a reader of poetry, but my research for Women of the Bay State has led me back into the works of Louisa May Alcott. Alcott is not, of course, known for her poetry. Her bread and butter was always her stories for children.From a very young age, however, she wrote poetry. In the poems of her youngest days we see the germ of the great writer she would be come - the eye for detail, the evocation of emotion, the turn of a phrase, along with the inclination to draw a lesson from daily life and then apply it. Obviously we also see conventions of an earlier time -- bear with the author, born and raised in a time so very different from our own!

Consider this cheery bit of philosophy, written when Louisa was about 14:

A Song from the Suds

Queen of my tub, I merrily sing,
While the white foam rises high,
And sturdily wash, and rinse, and wring,
And fasten out the clothes to dry;
Then out in the free fresh air they swing,
Under the sunny sky.

I wish we could wash from our hearts and our souls
The stains of the week away,
And let water and air by their magic make
Ourselves as pure as they;
Then on the earth there would be indeed
A glorious washing day!

Along the path of a useful life
Will heart's-ease ever bloom;
The busy mind has no time to think
Of sorrow, or care, or gloom;
And anxious thoughts may be swept away
As we busily wield a broom.

I am glad a task to me is given
To labor at day by day;
For it brings me health, and strength, and hope,
And I cheerfully learn to say--
"Head, you may think; heart, you may feel;
But hand, you shall work alway!"


Throughout her life Louisa wrote poems in times of powerful emotion. One of her first works published over her own name was a poem she wrote for the John Brown Association commemorating the abolitionist's death. I haven't been able to find a complete text, sadly - it was published in the Liberator in 1860.

I conclude then with a much more sober poem, written in October 1886, when Louisa, already suffering from the long-term effects of mercury poisoning, mourning the loss of her youngest sister May in far-off France. No bright details or perky rhythm here, but still the connection of earthly detail with her philosophical bent, and still the theme of lessons learned:

My Prayer

Courage and Patience, these I ask,
Dear Lord, in this my latest strait;
For hard I find my ten years' task,
Learning to suffer and to wait.

Life seems so rich and grand a thing,
So full of work for heart and brain,
It is a cross that I can bring
No help, no offering, but pain.

The hard-earned harvest of these years
I long to generously share;
The lessons learned with bitter tears
To teach again with tender care;

To smooth the rough and thorny way
Where other feet begin to tread;
To feed some hungry soul each day
With sympathy's sustaining bread.

So beautiful such pleasures show,
I long to make them mine;
To love and labor and to know
The joy such living makes divine.

But if I may not, I will only ask
Courage and patience for my fate,
And learn, dear Lord, thy latest task--
To suffer patiently and wait.

Note: This week's Poetry Friday Round-Up is at Charlotte's Library.

Words, Words, Words

I’m exhausted. I’m generally an early-to-bed-early-to-rise kind of person but this week, I’ve been staying up to watch The Democratic National Convention. Lest you think this is going to be a blog entry about politics, never fear. I’ll be just as tired when the Republicans have their turn. I’d stay up late if the Independents had a convention.

No, I’m a speech junkie. (“Hi, my name is Muriel, and I’m a speechaholic…”)

I love a good turn of phrase probably because I grew up listening to some mighty good lines:

“I have a dream…”

“Ask not, what your country can do for you…”

“That’s one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind.”

I studied great speeches:

“Four score and seven years ago…”

“…a day that will live in infamy.”

I even played records by groups named after speeches:

The motto of my publishing business is “Words are Magic”. I really believe that.

Words can do so much. They put us down:

“You’re fat.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, thanks.”

They lift us up:
“Nice job!”

“Love your hair.”

And, one of my personal favorites: “We’d like to offer you a contract for your book.”

They make us cry:
“Pay this amount:[of taxes]” “We regret to inform you...”

I love to listen to a speaker move an audience. Hence my addiction. Generally, when the big guns speak at political conventions, you’re going to get some good stuff. Why? Because they work at it. Last night, for example, it was reported that Hillary Clinton was tweaking her speech until about 20 minutes before she was due to give it. Her party gave her a big job: bring unity out of division. No matter what our political leanings, we all understood what kind of pressure this woman was under. The people who make a living at reviewing this stuff seem to feel she did the job.

I wasn’t just curious about whether the former first lady would pull it off, however. I was looking for other stuff and I got it. I like memorable phrases that make me laugh and make me think:

“We don’t want 4 more years of the last 8 years.”

“…and to my fellow members of the sisterhood of the traveling pantsuits…”

“My mother was born before women had the right to vote and my daughter got to vote for her mother for president.”

So, what, you wonder, does this all have to do with being a writer for children? Notice that every memorable speech is succinct. We not only remember ideas. We remember actual phrases. Listening to good speakers reminds us what takes to be good writers: a willingness to edit and a working delete button. Imagine if John F. Kennedy had said, in his inaugural address: “My fellow Americans, don’t bother to ask the federal government to take care of all of your problems because that’s not going to happen. Instead, we should all think about the ways we can help the federal government accomplish its goals.”

Not quite as snappy, is it? That's the point. Great writing is snappy. Now, go cut a bunch of words out of your manuscript.

Journaling: Another Option

In 1999, when I began my first term in Vermont College’s MFA in Writing for Children program, the graduating class was preparing to receive their diplomas. I’m not sure if it was the Class of ‘99 or classes before them that began the tradition of presenting incoming students with journals during the graduation ceremony.

The books the outgoing class gave us are huge, magazine-sized--not the typical diary one easily can throw in a purse or backpack. The dark gray cover is decorated with a pen-and-ink drawing of a woodpecker. The bird had special meaning for the Class of ’99 and there was a story that went with the choice—though I don’t recall what it was. (Probably something about tenacity? Digging deep for the “meat” of a story?)

I remember being frightened by the prospect of filling that book. In the past, I’ve done a bit of diary writing, but it was mostly when I was in a bad mood and needed to vent privately. Some of my fellow grad students kept journals of story ideas. I didn’t want to do that. If I had an idea, I didn’t want to detour it into a journal and lose my momentum. I’d rather start a new manuscript. Other writers kept journals of writing exercises, character explorations, visual descriptions to use in future stories.

All nice, but not for me.

I finally found a way to keep the journal that would be useful for me. One of the requirements for the MFA program is to read professional articles and write a commentary on them. I found I liked the dissecting of ideas. I decided to keep up this study of other writers in my journal. Over the years, as I read articles in professional magazines or books about writing, I find certain sentences or paragraphs that I want to remember. I copy them into my journal:

“Writing is not psychology. We do not talk “about” feelings. Instead the writer feels and through her words awakens those feelings in the reader.”
Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones, p. 68

“I’ve learned to base my characters as much as possible on real people. There are ‘characters’ all around us, and there is really no need to embellish…The most interesting characters I’ve ever read about are ordinary people place in extraordinary situations and forced to react.”
David De Batto, “Breakthrough” The Writer, Feb. 2007

Sometimes, I keep the quotes simply for re-reading. Other times, I comment on them. When I’m finished, I don’t need to hang on to magazines full of ads or articles that don’t apply to me.

The process of writing down the words we read is a form of kinesthetic learning. Educators deal with this topic every day as they try to present lessons to children in a multitude of forms so that students who learn best visually, orally, or kinetically can process new information. We as writers can do the same for ourselves.

Try it. It sure beats having a mess of old magazines hanging around.

Poetry Friday--Poems Turned Picture Books

Four or five years ago, the Write Sisters gathered in Kathy's kitchen to critique one Friday night. Janet brought an adult poem to run by us. She was thinking she might send it to Yankee Magazine, and wondered if we thought it was a good fit. She read Sail Away, Little Boat, and the decision was unanimous. Ditch Yankee Magazine. With just a little tweaking, she could turn that old poem into a picture book. (That's my nod to Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney, who turned many an old barn into a theater.)

Being open-minded, Janet gave it a whirl. She tweaked and toned her poem, and sent it off to Ellen Stein at Carolrhoda. Ellen loved it, and signed up Janet's poem-turned-picture-book for Carolrhoda's Spring 2006 catalog. Just like that. No rejections. No hand-wringing. No self-doubt.

And now Janet has joined the ranks of picture book poets, among them Clement L. Moore with The Night Before Christmas, Robert Frost with Runaway, Arnold L. Shapiro with Mice Squeak, We Speak, and our own Kathy Deady with All Year Long. I'd say Janet's in pretty good company, but you can judge for yourself.

"Let's launch our boat through the wild, roving brook
And watch as it slides and swirls through the nooks
Of a root-tangled bank where deer like to eat
The tasty green moss growing thick at their feet."

"Sail Away, Little Boat to search for new friends.
Just follow the brook, till it reaches its end."

"Past the slicky-back otter and his slippery friends
Who rollick and roll through the brook as it bends
Over smooth rocks and cool rocks, a wild water ride
As lickety-split the sleek otters slide."

"Past the bullfrogs that hide in a thick cattail forest
And croak out the notes of their splish-splashy chorus."

--Andy

This week's Poetry Friday Roundup is at Read. Imagine. Talk.

'Nough Said

Many thanks to Rebecca Rule for her wonderful review of Women of Granite: 25 NH Women You Should Know.

Look for it in the Nashua Telegraph, The Concord Monitor, and other newspapers or right here on-line:

http://www.nashuatelegraph.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080817/COLUMNISTS45/638435330/-1/columnists