Today I was workshopped. That's what they call it around here when it is your piece of writing that's being shredded to pieces. Actually, it's a very good, constructive process and as a new writer I found it extremely helpful. Yes, you heard me right. Or read me right, anyway. I'm a new writer. New to fiction, anyway. I've never had any formal creative writing instruction. It's all been academic and journalistic. This is different.
Yesterday, I attended a presentation on a form of Poetry called Ghazal. It is a poetic form of Arabic origins, but became popular all over the middle east over many centuries and eventually throughout western Europe. Like many formal, poetic forms, it mandates certain parameters. Each Ghazal begins with a lament. Each two-line stanza must stand alone. There is a specific rhyming scheme with the last word or several words matching in each stanza. Finally, Ghazal requires the author of the poem to include his or her name in the final stanza.
Here is my first and only ever attempt at Ghazal:
That drowsy time of day, a nap
would feel so good to sleep now.
The writing's new. Advice is vast.
The learning curve is steep now.
Lightbulb appears. Ideas are sparked.
Into my brain they creep now.
The glass is thin, this window pane,
Outside I hear a beep now.
This cornball verse, it's classic Todd.
I feel it getting deep now.
I read this in class. Brave me, yes? It got a laugh, which is always what my poetry's been about. None of this heavy, deep thinker stuff. If it's not fun, forget it.
Today I learned that too much back story is not a bad thing in a first draft because it provides lots of material to cut and weave into crux of the tale. It is a bad thing in the final draft, so get rid of the fluff and keep it simple, clear and meaningful. I now also know that adverbs are my mortal enemy. I shall proceed from here on out to seek and destroy them at all costs.
My only fear now from this residency is that people might ask me how I liked Alaska. I'll have to tell them that the trail I walked between the dormitory and the classrooms 45 or 50 times over the course of two weeks was lovely, blooming with wildflowers. It had a fresh greenness born of new summer's growth... yada yada yada... (I need to stop hanging out with poets.) There were some really hungry mosquitoes along this path. So while Alaska is the largest state and huge by any measure, my experience here has been restricted to a half-mile path and a few conference and classrooms. But like I said, the path is nice.
A hui hou. Aloha!
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