Poetic Alchemy: a few insights into my poetry life
Spain and Portugal: a generative poetry zoom class
It feels so good to travel and perhaps even better, to return home again to one’s own life—no longer a casual observer. I’m especially thrilled to come home to teach a POETIC ALCHEMY generative writing class with Kelli Russell Agodon. (If you haven’t take a class with the two of us before and want to talk to a poet who has, please let me know. We pride ourselves in going above and beyond the typical Zoom classroom.)
When I travel, I am happiest if I’ve a job to do or friends to see — in this case, I had both. In Madrid, I had the singular pleasure of reading at Desperate Books to a standing room only crowd. Okay. The shop is quite small, but Terry Craven, the co-owner and curator extraordinaire, counted some twenty-plus people in the audience. What I know: the quality of the listening in that room was palpable. You can see short takes from the night right here. One of the perks of the night was a broadside created by a host of people. My friend Donna Miscolta (former Seattlite now living in Spain) read my poem, “Birthday Dinner in the Sahara,” in Spanish that was co-translated by friends and poet/writers Claudia Castro Luna and Kathryn Balleh. The night couldn’t have turned out better, I felt seen, heard, and welcomed.
On a side note: this amazing trilingual bookstore and communal space is being kicked out of its building and has launched a kickstarter to raise funds before it can make the move into its new space. This is the third bookshop I know that has needed the help of their patrons (near and far) to survive. I may or may not make it into “Desperate Books” again (I don’t get to Spain very often) but I’ve donate a modest sum to keep this important place alive. Find out more about them and the fundraiser here.
One more side note: this male peacock was outside St. George’s castle in Lisbon along with a few dozen more. It seemed to be the beginning of mating season with a lot of showing off and literally shaking their stuff as they strut. The females seemed profoundly uninterested.
So a few brief insights into my recent poetry life, as promised.
Being on the road giving poetry readings, seeing old friends and making new friends was both a gift and a curse. I think the glamorous life of the writer (or at least the poet) is probably a myth. At one point, five nights in a row I stood up in front of an audience and read from Blue Atlas, a surreal retelling of an abortion I had in my twenties. Note: this is not my idea of fun.
However, what made the events wildly fulfilling were the conversations I sometimes had with a young (or older) woman after I’d finished the reading. She would share a sliver of her own experience and I would encourage her to write it down. In nearly every case she would say, “I’ve never written about this before …”
You (the poet) create the narrative of your reading; you need to take care of yourself on the road. Honestly, there were a couple of times while giving readings that I didn’t especially want to read about abortion and abandonment. One night, it finally occurred to me that I could choose to read other poems: poems of first love or travels in Morocco that are also part of the collection. I felt so much lighter! The audience didn’t know the book (it’s brand new) and so I could emphasize a different narrative. I focused on a different through line for the book and I could feel my connection with the readers; a calmer connection.
Photos and thank yous to the venues that host you cannot to be underestimated. Photos matter. You want to remember where you’ve been and tag the bookshops on social media (if you are a poet, you probably should have a social media account). I don’t think I understood until this book tour, how much of an ecosystem the poetry world really is. Everyone from the publisher, to the bookstore, to the person who organizes the reading series, to the college professors that open up their classrooms to a visiting poet; we are all connected and many of these roles will shift as the publisher or the professor also publishes her next book. It feels good to be part of this world where words are foremost—-along with kindness. Kindness kept me going for two months on the road. Kindness brought me home.
P.S. If you are kind enough to have kept reading and are interested in checking out Poetic Alchemy, you can find more information right here.