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Wednesday, May 18, 2016


I have been trying to work my way back to poetry again.  Until 2005, I was a fairly prolific poet.  90 percent of my literary magazine publications have been with poetry.

Poetry died for me in graduate school; it happened subtly and painfully. It was impossible for me to just cough up poems on demand.  Poems, for me, rush in like a mysterious force, a tether of some kind to creativity. I often feel like I offended the Muse of poetry or something, dramatic as that is.

So, tonight, I decided to start using the exercises in a book I really love, The Poet's Companion.  I am grateful that my treatment for bipolar disorder has eliminated my panic at sitting down to write.  I had that for many years.  So far, I have made a list of significant events in my life!  I feel as if I am a student in one of my creative writing classes.

I am plugging along with Asha's book, and am working on getting some interviews done before Thistle is out of school.

I am extremely glad that I may have a writing group now who will critique Asha's book.  The subject is so horrifying that I do not blame anyone for not wanting to read it.  The person who helped me get back into the group was so kind and encouraging, even answering my concern about the age of a few group members (late twenties). He said that it would be good to let younger people read the book, as their critiques might help me see if the book might be read by a larger audience.  I am grateful for his encouragement and kindness. I feel very solitary with this book and could use a little push.