Revision: Sleeping With Your Work

Once you've begun working on a larger piece--say, a collection of poems or short stories, a novel, or a show for your art work--more drastic measures may be in order. I find it helpful to let myself go a bit. I do not mean drink and do dope like the "tortured artist" stereotype with which we are all too familiar. In fact, this can be tempting at times, but it's a great way to screw up whatever potential you have for great art, too. You may be in pain, at least a little at this stage of the game, but pain is an essential part of the process. It is, my creative friends, the razor's edge.

That sharpening of the senses may feel a little (or a lot) like pain, but shows us the finer points of our work and helps us shave away all that is not essential to the final product. You actually need that pain, so don't dull it. Sure, stepping back at the end of the day with a glass of wine or a beer and observing what you have accomplished that day with an objective eye is fine. You may even want to make yourself a note or two to be reviewed in the bright light of morning. But I advise strongly against touching your work or making any changes while under the influence of intoxicants of any kind. They are painkillers, and as I said, a little pain is your friend right now.

The days of the drunk and drugged up artist are over, or should be anyway. Personally, I think it was bullshit in the first place; a figment of their imagination, a creature invented so that the creator had an excuse to indulge, self-indulge, and over-indulge. You can be special without drawing a lot of unnecessary or unwanted attention to yourself. If the tortured look appeals to you, (and I admit there's something to that frazzled appearance and feeling at times), there are other, much safer ways to achieve it than spending all night at a local bar talking about your work as opposed to doing it.

I simply don't bathe or shower or comb my hair for a few days. I don't change my clothes. I sweat when I work. I look wrinkled and worn (and I usually am). I stay up late and get up early. I eat a lot of yogurt and popcorn, or just forget to eat entirely. Most of us Americans can afford a missed meal once in awhile. I forget to brush my teeth. In other words, I look as raggedy as I am beginning to feel. It's the real thing, though, and not chemically induced.

Finally, let me encourage you to sleep with your work. That's right--at the beginning I advised you to sleep on the work before beginning to edit. But now that you are in the thick of it and your office or workspace looks like a tornado came through, not once but several times, I'm telling you to lie down in the midst of it and go to sleep. I find this eccentricity not only helpful, but comforting. I'm already so up to my chin in the project that I might as well go ahead and camp out amid the papers and pens, laptop, glasses, cups, and crumb-laden plates. I cannot entirely discount the idea that osmosis really works, at least a little.

I have a wonderful wood stove in my living room and an old couch made more comfortable by a board put beneath the cushions. In the middle of a long project revision and edit, I build up the fire around midnight, damp it down, put a comfy pillow and some soft blankets on the sofa and sleep there among my papers and notes. I watch the flames flicker and the coals glow until finally I fall asleep. It never fails. I sleep like a baby and wake completely refreshed and ready to dive into work, my creative project immediately to hand.

Lets face it. When you're deep in your work, you aren't good company for a lover or spouse anyway, so you might as well leave them alone. You are having an affair, an affair of the heart, with your work. If they love you, and have any sense of self-preservation at all, they will gladly leave you to it. Give them an absent-minded kiss, and lay down to sleep with your work. Show your creation that kind of respect, and I promise you will reap the rewards for your faithfulness in the end.

Revision: To Change or Not to Change

Photo via Creative Commons at Flickr

Once you've begun the process of revising a piece of art, stay with it. Work the poem or the painting for a specified amount of time each day. Do your free or fun write for fifteen or twenty minutes to loosen up before you turn to the left brain work of editing. I advise against starting to edit cold. Artists can be too hard on themselves without a warm-up. Always begin your day remembering how much you love your art by playing with it first.

Once you're done playing, you are ready to chisel or sand (depending on how much shaving needs to be done) your latest construction. Pull out the piece you slept on overnight from underneath your pillow and take a fresh look at it. " Ohmigod!" you cry. "I thought this was a decent piece of work. What a bunch of bull hockey!" Okay, that's the only negative say you get for the rest of the day. Just pick up your tools and see what you can do with this rough bit of raw material.

At this point, people often do one of two things: they throw the baby out with the bathwater, meaning they wad up their potential masterpiece and trash it even though that, once revised, the piece may have been priceless. It's very difficult to retrieve a complete idea and all it's inherent feelings, once it has been tossed to the dogs. Or they look at it with their lazy eye and tell themselves that's good enough. "My Muse wouldn't have led me down that primrose path if She didn't think it was worthwhile." Try to remember, your Muse is just another fickle god (or goddess), and as such, expects you to use a little common sense about the gifts she lays on your table. You need to clean the fish and before you serve it.

There are many, many books written about the revision process. Go to your local library and get some help. Turn to your writing group, take a workshop or a class. My current favorite is a book called Immersed in Verse: An Informative, Slightly Irreverent & Totally Tremendous Guide to Living the Poet's Life by my friend, the fabulous Allan Wolf. Don't be fooled by the playful cover and title. Yes, it is designed to appeal to young adults, but it is totally helpful to poets and writers who desire to take themselves seriously and create their best work.

Some of my and Allan's suggestions are the same:

1. Sleep on it
2. Save what you have
3. Remember that nothing is precious. There's more where that came from.
4. Play with the poem fearlessly.
5. Read it aloud. Many times.

And here's one Allan suggests that I like and will use in the future:

6. "Highlight the poem's golden moments." Allan says take a yellow highlighter and highlight your poem's three or four best lines. These are the lines that are essential to the core meaning of the poem. These lines are the "…organs – brain, heart, liver, and lungs," and might I say, soul of the poem.

Once you've highlighted these "golden moments," check out the rest of the poem with a critical eye. Do the rest of the words and phrases support and enhance these lines? Or do they simply weight them down like a ball and chain? Set the poem free! As my partner likes to say "Cut, cut, cut!" And as another writer once said, " You must kill your darlings." There will be another chance to use your favorite lines if they simply don't move your golden moments into the limelight.

On the other hand, never horde your favorites either. You have the perfect phrase, but you've been saving it for a piece you haven't gotten around to writing yet. It fits right here in this poem and highlights your golden moment, making it shine. But it was meant for another poem. What's a poet to do? USE IT! Never save anything. Again, there are always more brilliant metaphors where that one came from. You're a writer. You've got a million of 'em.

—Mendy Knott is a writer, poet and author of the collection A Little Lazarus (Half Acre Press, 2010). To order your copy of A Little Lazarus directly from the author, please click here.

Re-Visioning: Let it Be (Part 3)

Alright, you've made those exquisite first tracks across the snowy page. You've slept by the campfire of your imagination and dreamed of excellence and perfection. Ancients whispered to you of genius in the night. But now, in the harsh light of a new day, you look at what you've created with a sense of horror. "Good Lord! I did that? My 8 year old nephew could write better than that!"

Take it easy. Things always look different under a bright light. Approach your work with respect and a certain amount of caution. You are changing outfits, becoming a surgeon where a mad artistic genius worked mere hours ago. It's a tricky business. If you aren't careful, you will remove something vital, cutting the very life from your new creation.

The first thing you want to do is transfer the piece from its initial scribblings on the back of a napkin or whatever into a form someone (you) can read and recognize. If, like me, you have the tendency once a computer keyboard is under your fingertips to immediately begin to revise, let someone else type the original into the file for you. Trade them something--like donuts--if you must, but don't do it yourself if you can't help messing with it. At this point, you do not want to change a thing. Copy it into the computer exactly the way it is written on the page.

Once the piece is reproduced in its entirety, print it. Changing nothing about it; simply print it. It is now, in some ways, a finished piece of work. No matter whether it seems like crappy work or great work, it is a complete entity that can be held in the hand. Read it several times over. Don't even hold a pen while you do this. When you're done, you will know whether this piece is worth keeping or not.

Here is your first opportunity to see again (re-vision) what you did the first time. Immediately, certain phrases will jump off the page, standing out like a drag queen in a biker bar. This is either delightful or out of place. Really, if you do as I suggest up to this point, you will know whether this particular work is worth the time, effort and energy you need to put into it to shape it into a finished work of art. Force nothing. Remember, you've got a million of 'em.

If, at this point you realize that it will cost you too much life to re-work the poem or essay or whatever into something both you and others can appreciate, do NOT despair. Never discount the value of what you have accomplished thus far. You have kept your promise to the Muse to meet her at the appointed time with pen or paints in hand. No matter that you do not like what you have done, or don't find it worth more time, the Muse will remember that you were there and you did as you promised. You kept your date.

This faithfulness will pay off eventually. Honor the positive energy of art you have put out into a world that needs creative thinking and beauty. Respect yourself for having the passion and the grit to keep carving into the stone, creating records for an uncertain future. Some might call it crazy. I call it courage.

Next time, we will go into what to do if you like the piece and want to pick up your chisel and work on it, attempt to make it all it can be. Do not throw away what you have produced this time, however. Store it, save it in a file. Return to it later. There may be something hidden inside, a pearl in that ugly oyster, that will make the perfect necklace eventually. Save it and know the world was fed because you gave into the impulse to play a little God and create something from Scratch. Is that an oxymoron?

—Mendy Knott is a writer, poet and author of the collection A Little Lazarus (Half Acre Press, 2010). To order your copy of A Little Lazarus directly from the author, please click here.

Re-Visioning (Part 2)

"To sleep, perchance to dream"

—Hamlet's Soliloquy

No, we're not going to get into an analysis of Shakespeare's famous soliloquy. I simply want to use this quote to get my next point across, which is not about dying. I'm translating literally. Go to sleep. Have a dream. That is my best advice once the original, wild, passionate creative work is done.

Let's begin our revision with what may well look like the end. Go to sleep. Go to bed if you've written into the night. Take a nap if you worked until afternoon. Whatever you do, give yourself a chance to sleep on it before you ever begin to revise your work. That's right. After you've enjoyed your romp across the blank page and have built your jaunty snowman, which you now notice tends to lean to the left, rest awhile. Your perfect igloo seems to be melting in the bright light of the noonday sun. So leave the scene entirely – go for a walk in the snow, make some soup, sleep on it before you try to "fix it."

Two things happen while we sleep on our work. The mind rests and we are able to see the work fresh the next day. If we're lucky, we may even have a dream that opens a new door to our imagination, offering an insight we could not have come up with in the bright light of our original creative frenzy. And time passes. The value of the passage of time should not be underestimated. You don't want so much time to pass that you lose interest in your poem or project. You really don't want to start all over again because you don't recognize the work as the same beast with which you began. But you do need at least one night, maybe two, before you "go back in" and start to revise.

Time itself works on a piece. Change occurs like the weather. We can see more clearly the core of what we want to say, what we want to accomplish with the work. It's as if the outer layer full of sticks and grass has melted away, leaving us with what we really want to express. Use the tool of time; it's invaluable and it's free.

So the first thing you want to do once you've created a first draft, a zero draft (I call it a fun draft) is sleep on it. Don't touch it. Read it and enjoy it for what it is; a snow person or scarecrow with bits of flora and fauna attached, leaning slightly and already beginning to melt. Love its carrot nose, which is nothing original but still looks good. Stare into the steel gray stones you set into its face for eyes, and the old fishing rods you used for arms. Those seem original. But don't touch it until the next day. It will be there, waiting for you. If you still have energy left – well, shoot, start another one!

—Mendy Knott is a writer, poet and author of the collection A Little Lazarus (Half Acre Press, 2010). To order your copy of A Little Lazarus directly from the author, please click here.

Revision: The Beginning of the End—Part 1

Writing the first draft of any piece is easy for me. Some artists open the door of their creativity and freeze in front of the blank screen, white page or empty canvas like they've just stepped out into a blizzard without their boots and mittens. Not me.

I look out on that vast emptiness thrilled that I will be the first human to make fresh tracks in new snow. I leap forward. I dance out the door so full of ideas I leave prints criss-crossed and circling until sometimes it's hard to follow me. You know that cartoon "Family Circus," and the kid they trace with little dashes all the places he goes during his day, leaving a maze only he can retrace? That's me writing my first draft. I am happily lost in the wilderness of a freewrite, of not thinking, of letting the ideas course through my veins and fly out my fingertips without left brain interference. Pure, unbounded freedom of expression. I can really get down with that.

I find words and images everywhere. Feelings are as visible as breath in the freezing air. I spent two hours in a coffee shop the other day and wrote four rough drafts of poems. "Rough" is the operative word here. For these happy tracks to become real poems, a labyrinth someone else can follow in order to find the meditative center, the hidden treasure, they need (dare I breathe the word) revision.

Think about that word, "revision." In its simplest form it means "seeing it again." I love the initial vision, the dream, the breakthrough. Good writing requires us to look at what we've done again (and again) closely, with a willingness to pare away the excess; to find what's unnecessary and cut it out. We must be willing to throw a lot of words and images on the brush pile and burn them in order to find the essential core of the poem or piece of work. Think of it as a "bonfire of the vanities." It will keep you warm while you continue to work on your revision.

Anybody who has read my work knows this is not my forte'. This is why I require help. I have a writing group who kindly critiques my poems and pieces and lets me know what works and what doesn't. I have a writer spouse whose parting cry after reading my work is often, "Cut, cut, cut!" And I have my own determination to make the best poem or essay possible.

Revision is where the work, the real nitty-gritty, no guts no glory drudgery begins. It's true that some people love this part. They are the opposite of me. They may be terrified of the unbroken snow of a blank page, but they love to fix stuff. Their left brains click in, their little inner perfectionists grin and rub their tiny hands together, and they throw out useless words and phrases as easily as if they were born to find fuel for a bonfire. And as hard as this is for the "natural," it is a crucial part of the creative process.

The next several posts will deal with revision. I'll tell you my experience; what helps and what doesn't. Keep in mind that you don't want to burn something beautiful in your efforts to prune the grove. So always copy your initial work as is, save it, and check back to make sure you haven't lost a needed branch of your initial vision.

Here's an idea. Pick a recent rough draft or untouched poem of your own. First save it; then work on it as you read the posts. I'll do the same. Let's see if my suggestions can help us re-vision our pieces.

—Mendy Knott is a writer, poet and author of the collection A Little Lazarus (Half Acre Press, 2010). To order your copy of A Little Lazarus directly from the author, please click here.

Prairie Fire

Photo by Leigh of www.larrapin.us

On Nov 16, 2010, at 9:00 AM, Kamala Parker wrote:

Mendy,

I wrote a poem today. It is inspired by a cherry/crab apple tree at the front of The Fire studio:

When winter comes

Bitter apples not for eating

Still nurture the eye

Clustered in the light

along sleeping leaves

Red, gold, earthen

Like a mother bird

Sheltering fledglings

In a gentle rain

We complain about

Raking, and petroleum

Leaf blowing, fruit falling

To stain the paint of our

Shiny cars. Forgetting

It wasn’t like this once.

We use to pray in the

Colors of harvest

Give thanks, laugh with

Our lover. Now, the

Alarm rings and we

Are late for something

When we would rather

rest. Simple in our sleep.

Sincerely,

Kam

———

From: Mendy Knott

Sent: Friday, November 19, 2010 2:39 PM

To: Kamala Parker

Subject: Re: rough draft, winter poem

Dear Kam,

This is such a lovely poem. Would you mind if I read it at HOWL this Sunday? It will bring a little bit of you into my open mic, which I really miss--having you there and hearing your work. Can I call it Prairie Fire? That's the name of our crab apple tree in the yard which we love and took pictures of this fall, with their bright little apples against a fall blue sky. Thanks for sharing this.

My young niece (20) came through on her way home for Thanksgiving. I adore her. She is really growing up--and beautiful. It was lovely to hear how she admires the way Leigh and I work and live at home.

Take care my friend. Have a good Thanksgiving, whatever you do. Have been busting my butt on this family cookbook, but it is at the designer as of today. And we are on the short end of a long stick now. Thank goodness. I love you, buddy. Keep the pen moving.

Even a moment to write a short poem is so much better than not writing.

Love, Mendy

———

On Nov 20, 2010, at 8:24 AM, Kamala Parker wrote:

Mendy, I thought about you when I wrote it. About the first time on the farm in Celo when you taught me about abstract versus something solid, something someone could imagine in their mind’s eye.

Have a wonderful holiday ! I’ll be in touch soon with a longer note and an update on my wonderful life! Please give Leigh a hug for me.

I love you too,

Kam :^)

———

Within this exchange of emails and a poem are a handful of hints to good writing:

#1 When we don't seem to have a lot of time for personal creativity, we tend to quit trying. What I told Kam, and what I'm telling you, is that some time is always better than no time. Take what you can find. Be prepared with your tools (pen, paper, pencil) at any given moment. Stop for 10 or 15 minutes and write what you observe. That is what Kam did here and it's a beautiful reminder of what we find important when we pause for breath.

#2 Use all the senses when writing. Paint a mental image that shows the reader what can't be said in the all-too-common abstract words we use daily. Doesn't the picture of this crab apple tree in poetry and picture say more about how little time we take to observe and appreciate life than the words I just wrote do? No preaching; only painting.

#3 Find someone with whom you can share your art. It doesn't matter if it's a "rough draft" sent in an email or read aloud to your spouse or best friend. Two great events are occurring when we share our work: we are speaking our intention to create out loud AND we are becoming better listeners. Both parties benefit.

So thanks, Kam, for allowing me to share this beautiful piece with my open mic group, and now with all my blog readers. It was so meaningful to me to receive it, and it made me feel good that I had been able to help another writer. You see, her poem touched more lives than she ever knew it would when Kam took that 15 minutes to observe a "prairie fire."

These Are My People: Leaving a Legacy

Leaving a legacy seems like such a weighted phrase. But really, it's a part of you, created by you, that you leave behind for those you love. It's acknowledging your past and saving something for the future. In my case, my legacy to my family happens to be a cookbook.

I don't have a lot to leave my family, my relations near and far. I have no children, no money, no real estate or jewels. And I have quite a lot of relatives. Dozens and dozens of them. They go back a long way; as many as five or six generations right here in Arkansas. I realize without them, I would not be here. The person I am with my characteristics, personality and abilities, would not exist if Francis Marion Cross had not married Francis Evangeline Fincher (Frank and Fannie) and raised a family in a tiny dot on the map called Rosston, AR. If they had not had a son (among 10 children) named Jethro Cross who married Jewel Moore in the tiny town of Kervin, TX in a barbershop because that's where they found the preacher getting a haircut–then I would not exist. And if Madelyn Cross (eldest among 10 children) hadn't been talked into a blind date with a sailor boy named Richard Knott, then there would be no Mendy Knott to tell this tale. I felt I owed something to that history, to the miracles that made my life happen. I don't want it to be forgotten.

So two years ago, I started working on a family cookbook. In some families, people pass down musical ability, art, or carpentry skills. In my family, the women pass down recipes. The men enjoy the results of the recipes. From great grandmother to grandmother, to mother to daughter, to sister, to cousin, to best friends or neighbors, recipes travel hand to hand, by telephone, and now through the internet. They are shared, tried, and tasted. Once hand written on note cards or legal pads, now they are emailed, tweeted and twittered. The ones I got from my mother through the mail always said, "Love, Mom" at the end; like a letter. Only better. Because I would think of her every time I cooked from those cards. The dishes from those recipes were so good they became famous among my friends as the "Love, Mom" recipes.

It was harder and took longer than I thought it would. There turned out to be more than 200 recipes and 40 contributors. There were pictures to collect and narratives to write. The process involved research, which is not my strong point. But finally, one year past deadline, the manuscript is complete. I am proud of the work that went into making this little legacy. I'm happy to have something that preserves a bit of my family's history, and so are they. I feel I have used my talents in service to both my ancestral past and the future. One day a third, fourth, fifth cousin will pick up this cookbook, look through it and think, "These are my people. This is where I come from. I can make 'Mother's Squash Casserole' from the yellow squash in our garden and eat what my great, great grandmother ate."

Working on a legacy strengthens the ties that bind us to those who came before us. Memories were my constant companions as I worked. I felt my MaMaw standing in the kitchen making the biscuits she made every day and smiling at me, nodding her approval as I wrote, copied, cut and pasted. If we all created our own legacy to leave behind for those who came after us, no matter how small or large, it might help us appreciate and care for what we have now as the treasure we will be handing our children and theirs.

—Mendy Knott is a writer, poet and author of the collection A Little Lazarus (Half Acre Press, 2010). To order your copy of A Little Lazarus directly from the author, please click here.

Support Your Local Poets

(Photo by Leigh from Larrapin Garden.)

"Tis the season," to be gift-shopping for friends and family for whatever holiday you may celebrate. Maybe, like me, you buy the thing that pops out at you with their name on it whenever you see it, then just go ahead and give it to them. In any case, let me plug your local artists and artisans as a good place to begin your gift buying this year. Yes, I am saying this partly because I have a new book published. And yes, it is true that unless you are a Pulitzer Prize winning poet, you most likely won't make a lot of money selling it. Still, if crafting poetry (or anything) is what you love to do, then you really can't help yourself. It's simply a must-do.

When I worked as a bookseller off and on over the past 15 years, I had a little trick I used to play. When I rang someone up who had a book of poetry or two in their pile, I would ask, "Do you write poetry?" Inevitably they would answer with a pleased "Yes." Poets read poetry. At least most of them do. And they buy books full of poems. (This is Mendy logic.) Therefore, if you would like to write poetry or get better at it, you should buy books of poetry, too!

In my household, we are doing our best to buy local--food, crafts, art, books, CD's, gifts--whatever we can find that is made here or near Fayetteville, AR, or has been created by people we know. We want them to live well and prosper. We want them to get famous. Besides, we find the best stuff this way. I went to a little, tiny craft show in Benton, AR with my sister who was visiting from Baltimore last weekend. They had the coolest things made from their own bright ideas. Their items were totally useful and beautiful, as well. Plus they were cheap. I was happy to pay their asking price and tell them I loved what they were doing. This is good business; when everyone walks away happy.

So when you go to a concert, don't just listen to the show. Buy the CD. When you go to the reading of a local author, buy the book (at your independent bookstore, of course). When you're visiting Underground Art, Terra Studios, or the Farmer's Market, buy the crafts and art from the people who created them. I have made so many people happy with the gifts I've given from exactly these places. So, yes, if you can, buy my book. You won't be sorry. And to tempt you further, I will give you a gift in this post. Here is the last poem in my book, and no doubt the most famous. It has been read by thousands of people. No lie. So here it is; a teaser to make you want my book, partly because everyone needs A Little Lazarus in their lives.

Leaving

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Matthew 6.28-29

On a hill above Saluda beside Pacolet Falls I lay

gazing though a screen of birch at the remnants of the day.

Not a breath, not a whisper stirred the air when,

like a camera changing focus, my stare shifted

caught the falling leaves that drifted onto clothing

slowly sifted, then gifted me, a weary warrior

with feathers for my hair.

Suddenly, I must know how each leaf fell

and how they felt about their circling descent

from heaven down to hell.

Surely after all that time so close to sky

the ground must seem an alien and far-off place to die.

No breeze shook them from their tenacious holds.

That same thin strength that held them

throughout a summer’s storms seemed gone.

But wait... there goes one on fiery wings of gold!

Why, they’re leaping from their limbs,

they’re not just letting go!

They’re taking turns and laughing,

they seem tickled by the sun,

as if today was a leaf parade and they’re falling just for fun.

Bright red, burnt orange, soft yellow–

all dressed in Sunday finery

as they loose their perches fearlessly

for the first and last time flying

whirling, twirling, spinning ‘round,

singing Hallelujahs until they gently kiss the ground.

I want to learn to leave my life as gracefully as they.

May my certain passing from this place

come to me this way--

Let me leap into forever like a well thought out adventure

leave rejoicing in the splendor of a brilliant autumn day.

—from A Little Lazarus by Mendy Knott. Published by Half Acre Press, 2010. Copyright Mendy Knott. To order your copy with free shipping click here.

Create A Better Life

(Photo via Creative Commons at Flickr)

With all the recent news accounts of school and internet bullying and the recent suicides of so many gay youth, I feel I must address this issue on my blog without further delay. "Well, what does this have to do with creativity?" you may ask. My answer is– just everything. Every single sensitive soul out there, gay or straight or in-between, needs their creativity to help save them from the carelessness of a war-torn and insensitive world. When life is all about the money and where you fall on the socio-economic scale; how you look, what you wear or how you are perceived by the majority of people in any particular group, creativity can help preserve your individual sense of self. Your creative efforts can keep your mind in the moment, your feet on the ground, and prevent you from getting lost in the woods (or the words) of the self-righteous.

I say that creativity, in my case writing, saved my life. Of course, a dramatic individual by nature, most people think that I'm simply overstating the case. But I'm telling the stone cold sober truth. Writing saved my life. I was a misfit from my youth. I did not fit in with the kids in my schools. I was not popular. I did not have dates. I was slender and strong and practically breastless. After being bullied and scorned by my peers, I drank heavily, had difficulties at home, could not finish college and, feeling like an utter failure, attempted suicide – more than once. Lucky for me, I was bad at that, too. I finally joined the military, where further problems awaited me. I was investigated twice for alleged lesbianism and raped in my dorm.

When I got out, I joined the police department in a big city. And although policing suited my tough outer skin, it broke my heart repeatedly. I soon realized that I could not stay sober, sane, or kind and remain a cop. So I quit and became a writer. I told myself that I would live in a broom closet if need be so that I could write. I didn't have to, but I was willing. I had friends who helped me, and I spent every dime from my police retirement fund to write my first novel.

It was not a great novel. But it was great for me. It was cathartic--in it I could punish those who had punished me. I got my revenge with characters on the page. Nobody got hurt. I lived in a wonderful fantasy world where women like me were strong and powerful–sexy, beautiful, and smart. And I proved to myself that not only could I write, I could start a long project and finish it all by myself. Talk about empowering!

That year of writing "Silverwaters" healed me. It healed something so deep in me that I would never allow myself to be beaten down again. Not that I wouldn't fall down. I would. But I knew how to get back up. And I knew that a large part of healing was in the sharing of one's work. I wanted others who needed it to hear my "gospel;" that all of us are created as beautiful works of art with a special purpose in this world. We need to stay alive, stand up, and be counted. It is important to know that "God don't make mistakes." And neither I nor you, nor anyone reading this is in anyway a mistake.

Want to prove that theory? Sit down with a pen and paper right now. Begin this sentence, " I am not a mistake. When I was 15 years old, I thought maybe I was, but...." Now write until you have nothing else to say. Take a morning or afternoon or evening and do this. Then read it to yourself. Share it with a friend. Share it on the Trevor Project or the "It Gets Better" site. This is how we save our lives and the lives of others. We tell our stories and we tell the truth and we tell it as creatively as we can: in stories, songs, poems, essays, youtube, visual art, and in the fact of our everyday lives. I learned long ago that the best revenge is a life well lived. Begin today. And help someone else along the way.

Celebrating Success – "A Little Lazarus " At Last

(Click photo or hillpoet.com to order your signed copy!)

Okay, let's get past the excuses for no post for so long. There is no excuse. How's that? However, I have been putting together my new book, editing dozens of poems, working with my editor/publisher, waiting for the books, reviewing them, realizing we left out a poem (groan), and re-printing them. I've been busy, but have simply not taken time to post a blog. And for that, I apologize. My deadlines are winning the race and beating me to the punch. Is that a mixed metaphor? Yes. I'm a mixed metaphor at the moment.

After 17 years of writing and performing poetry, I have finally put most of my classics (top 10 hits anyway) along with many other poems, on the page. Now anyone, not just my true blue open mic fans, can read and re-read my work in the comfort of their own homes sitting by a fire or lazing on a beach in S. Africa. ( In fact, you can order a copy now, here! ) Finally, a beautiful trade paperback with a Path Hennon pastel on the cover, actually exists. Special thanks go out to her, as well as to Leigh Wilkerson and Liz Lester for believing in my work enough to finally make me do it. I must express my deepest appreciation to Naomi Nye, Patricia Smith, Glenis Redmond, and Allan Wolf, who had such wonderful things to say about my book. Shoot, the blurbs alone are worth the purchase!

So there it is--in black and white as they say. My big reading/signing will be at Nightbird Books on Thursday Oct.14 at 7 pm. Par-tay! I hope we pack the place out. That might not be too hard, since the reading space seems to be shrinking, but lets make it SRO anyway. I want everyone who has encouraged me along the way to be there so I can say thank you. Thank you for your listening ears. Thank you for the encouragement. Thank you for the inspiration of your shared poems and stories. Together we can make anything happen, which is exemplified by the fact that I finally put these poems on the page so you could take them home with you.

My publisher Liz over at Half Acre Press sees me as this completely outgoing extrovert of a performance artist (in other words a big ham) and does not believe it was difficult to take what I do in performance and put it on the page. I don't know why she doesn't believe it since it has taken me nearly two decades to do it. But to me, it's like writing a letter or email: once it's written down, you can't take it back. No more corrections. No more changes to make. (Remember that next time you fire off a snappy email.)

So now all that's left is to sell books and celebrate. We artists often have difficulty taking time to enjoy our success. We almost always have another iron in the fire warming up even as we bask in the glow of the one we've just finished. Yes, I do have another iron in the fire. One project at a time is simply unheard of in my life. But I do intend to celebrate, if not exactly rest on my laurels. I'm going to toast my publisher and editor. I'm going to eat chocolate--as much as I can get. I'm going to take a day off afterwards and go fishing. I'm going to tell myself, "Dang, I deserve this... and whatever recognition follows." I intend to celebrate this success and not just toss it in the pile of "Well, that's done...what's next?"

Celebrate your successes, my sensitive and shy creatives. You've worked hard for your moment in the spotlight. It never lasts long, so bask in it. Heck, come help me celebrate mine while you're at it. And I'll do the same for you.

( To order a signed copy sent right to your mailbox with free shipping click here to go to www.hillpoet.com! )