#writing-process

#writing-process

In class, I shared a set of drafts of a poem that appeared in my most recent collection. One by one, I projected versions of the poem onto a screen. I drew attention to the red ink slashing through unwanted words. I pointed out how I added, struck, added, struck and then re-added a comma. I boasted about my careful use of my favorite punctuation mark-the delightfully overlong em dash.

There's something about the rhythm of cycling that opens up my brain. Maybe it's the repetition, the solitude, or the fact that my hands aren't reaching for a phone every 30 seconds.

I made the mistake of letting baseball become my entire identity. And when that happens, there's not much else. And that really led me to burnout.

The problem with scholarly focus is that it leads where you intend to go... when you get there, you're likely to find that your destination isn't all that interesting.

I could picture her in my head, sort of trudging around with...cleaning supplies...taking such care to never let anybody see her, never have to talk to anybody. Who is this woman and what happened to her?