Hello again. How has your writing gone this month? It’s been such a joy to write with you all, and to hear about how the prompts are working for you, in the comments here, online, and in my email.
I have not written as many poems as I’d hoped, but what I have done in these thirty days is work on caring for my attention. The past year plus of being on the computer for really every aspect of my work and writing life has kind of broken my brain a little, and I’m working on repairing that through being more purposeful with how I use my attention - how many tabs I have open, how many tasks I’m trying to manage at once. I’m also working on making space for a little more nothing in my life.
The walk with my kids to and from their school is one of the best parts of my day. We take the same route each time, so the sameness of it frees us up to notice what’s changing from day to day: tulips blooming, a neighbor fixing their porch where a tree fell on it last summer, the hostas starting to come up in other yards. (Thank goodness other people garden, because I do not.) One house has two cats that often sit in the two windows that face the street, just watching the world go by. I’m trying to be a little more like those cats.
For the final prompt of the month, I thought we’d return to the Real Things we started with in Prompt #1. The prompt is the same, but the world is different now, and you’re different, too.
Prompt #30: More Real Things
(with thanks again to Twila Newey, who pointed me toward the Linda Gregg essay linked below.)
Go for a walk and record at least ten real things. As Linda Gregg says, these should be “not beautiful or remarkable things, just things.” Focus on nouns. Be sparing with your modifiers. No metaphors or gorgeous descriptive language. If you notice flowers, birds, dogs, etc you don’t know the precise name of, try to look them up. (I learned the word catkin this morning after my older son noticed the pattern they’d made on the sidewalk. Amazingly, I got the word by googling “tree shaggy pollen things”!)
Write a ten-line poem, with approximately one thing in each line. If you like a tighter formal constraint, aim for ten-syllable lines and/or use each thing as an end-word.
A Few Notes on What’s Next
My younger son sometimes leaves these little vignettes on my desk for me. He dug the rainbow, an old fingerpaint daycare project, out of a bin and paired it with this little Duplo fellow. I like to think he’s cruising into a sunny, vaccinated future.
I’m going to continue this newsletter in a biweekly format, alternating between little essays about writing and interviews with smart people who can help us think better about living a creative life in a world filled with horror and distraction. It’s an extension of The Up Drafts, the column I’ve written for PANK over the last year or so, and it will continue my obsession with creativity, productivity, writing process, and getting unstuck. At PANK I wrote about how to make an at-home writing retreat, why done is often better than good, and ambition, modesty, and shame. I interviewed artist and creativity coach Jessica Abel about the magic of One Thing and writing studies scholar Hannah Rule about freewriting, speed in writing, and the weird writing rituals she’s learned about through her research. The column aimed to both explore why writing is so hard and also offer some practical strategies for making it easier, and we’ll continue that over here. If there are particular topics you’d like me to cover, or people you think I should interview, I’d love to hear your ideas and suggestions.
I wrote a piece for The Millions about poetry book contracts - what you should read carefully, what you might be able to negotiate, and a few things that might be red flags. This part of the publishing process can be intimidating and opaque, and I learned so much from the editors and writers I spoke with.
I’ll be leading an online workshop in July titled “Hermit Crabs and the Art of the Nonfiction Essay” in which we’ll play with different forms for the personal essay. It’s part of Murphy Writing’s Midsummer Online Writing Getaway, from July 7-11. You can read more here about the great workshops being offered and the scholarship opportunities. If you’ve enjoyed these prompts, I think you’ll love the Getaway.
Thank you for reading and writing this month. If the work we’ve done together has felt valuable for you, if writing matters to your way of being in the world, I hope you’ll consider donating to an organization in your area that helps other take up writing. I’ll be sending some money to Mighty Writers, an organization that teaches writing to kids and teens in Philadelphia, Camden, and Atlantic City; during the pandemic, they’ve been providing families with meals and groceries as well. Write Pittsburgh is home to a bunch of excellent affiliated programs, and the Writers in the Schools Alliance works in schools around the country. A quick search will likely turn up several groups doing this work in a place that’s close to your heart. Community writing programs have long been part of what sustains me as a writer, something I wrote about in a series for F(r)iction Log last summer, and I think the work these organizations are doing is doubly important in this time of disconnection.
Sharing your work helps sustain momentum. I’d love to hear how your writing is going, and you can comment here, or email me with your good ideas. I’m also on twitter (@nancy_reddy) and instagram (@nancy.o.reddy), if you want to check in there.