Other Than That, I Really Liked It

1. Other Than That, I Really Liked It The Poetry Workshop how otherwise really nice people suddenly become raving hypercritical and egotistical jerks you want to pistol-whip before they even finish their critique

2. What should, or shouldn’t, a workshop accomplish? As a writer (i.e., the poet whose work is being workshopped), what do you think a good workshop should accomplish? As a reader and workshopper, what do you believe makes your input “good”? What do you believe makes a workshop bad? What are the factors most important to a good and productive workshop? Which attributes or values are most important for a writer who submits a poem to workshop?

3. Some Workshop Don’ts • Don’t psychoanalyze the poet • The poem doesn’t have to be about the poet, nor does its voice have to represent the poet’s own voice. • Try to respond to the poem as if it has written itself. What are the clues to its meaning, its motivation, and its realizations and epiphanies. • Don’t confuse editing with critiquing • Spelling errors and grammar mistakes should be noted on the draft, but don’t dwell on these in the workshop discussion, unless… • spelling, punctuation, or grammar confusion might be intended by the writer. • Don’t blame the poet for choosing to write about experiences or topics that you can’t personally relate to. • Try harder to enter into the world of the poem and its speaker. • Try to see the content of the poem from that point of view. • Remember that not everyone is writing poetry at the same level as you (regardless of whether or not you consider yourself more experienced). • Comment on the success of the poem based on what the poet’s skill levels might be at that moment. • Encourage to writer to grow through revision and accept the challenge of looking at his or her own poem in a more sophisticated way.

4. Dorothy—Dotty, Doddering Ditty Using the example at left, consider the following critical workshop comments. (The word “critical” is meant here with a broader meaning; it doesn’t necessarily mean “negative criticism.”) Discuss the reasons and ways each of these comments might be helpful or unhelpful. I didn’t think this was a real poem. I like it. It’s got some rhymes goin’ and other language and stuff. I didn’t know what some of these words meant. The poet is trying too hard. I can’t really relate to this ‘cause I haven’t felt/experienced this too. I don’t know what the poet is trying to say. I don’t understand why the lines break the way they do. This is pretty twisted. Maybe the writer needs counseling. I loved this poem because The Wizard Of Oz is my favorite story of all time. The poem flows. Treating Toto wing-nut sugar-sweet. And gloom, dashing dots above and beyond fever-dream that yellows the antimacassars of my life, banana oily, surreptitious. Glinda, that little good witch, bitched about the shoes and wasted silver that could have burst her bubble with a broom’s devil-bloom. The Wicked Witch greens and etches the acreage of my soul. I cry each night, teardrops like candy dots brocading my pillow. The chance I turned up, a rough farmhand’s hands to farm and rough me up, turned me to…where? Where did they go? Smoke and wind, blow, tilt me and till me, until “Meaning” starts with "Em” again. and Aunty’s balloons will hoist me home, back to Oz. Back to liquefy into my mother’s copper-green arms.

5. Mother’s Harsh Words Using the example at left, conduct a workshop that offers honest, open and helpful about the following issues. Be detailed and firm when needed, but judicious. Prosaic tone Abstract words versus concrete detail Line breaks and enjambment Triteness of topic Wordiness The conclusion Cliches Imagery The intentions of the poem Anger churns my heart as your cruel words viciously reach my ears. You were always a mean mother. Even when I was little, I remember watching you with your cigarette, and your nasty Betty Ford wig. Hater of children, defiler of their optimism and dreams. To me, you’re indubitably abominable. I envision you as disharmonious bits scattered on the floor, like your patience. Foul language, bellicosity, so morbidly inappropriate for sensitive young minds. Mother, your maternal instinct was never more than an idea beyond your reach. One day, I’ll fly fro’ this nest, and leave you to your worms. Some day, mother. But until then, I will hate you and I will implore, “Oh, mother! Why?”

6. Using the Brian Turner poem below, comment on the effectiveness of the following at right. Genre: What sort of poem is it? Narrative (story- or anecdote-descriptive) or lyrical (impressionist, imagistic and language dependent)? Content: What’s the poem about? What makes you believe this? What is poet’s motive for writing it? What is the poem’s “thesis”? (Do not answer this by saying, “The poem wants to show…,” since “showing” is not the same thing as telling or arguing.) The Epigraph: What is the purpose and effectiveness of the epigraph? Does it enhance the poem? Help to explain it? Could the poem work as well without it? Line Integrity: In each line, which words or phrase give the line its center of gravity? Are some lines more effectively “anchored” by these centers of gravity than others? Why? Imagery: Which are the poem’s stand-out images? What’s your reaction to them? Line Breaks and Enjambment: what are the most effective line breaks in the poem and why? Why are the least effective. Verbiage: which verbsare used to optimal effect? Other Language: Which words are the most “lyrical” in sound and why? Which are more intellectually interesting? What are your favorites? How do they add to the poem? Which words trip you up, or “kick you out of the poem” and why? Conclusion: How do you feel about the way this poem ends? What impression does it leave you with? How does it “finish” the poem in content and argument? The Baghdad Zoo “Is the world safer? No. It’s not safer in Iraq.” —Hans Blix An Iraqi northern brown bear mauled a man on a streetcorner, dragging him down an alley as shocked onlookers cried for it to stop. There were tanks rolling their heavy tracks past the museum and up to the Ministry of Oil. One gunner watched a lion chase down a horse. Eaten down to their skeletons, the giraffes looked prehistoric, unreal, their necks too fragile, too graceful for the 21st Century. Dalmatian pelicans and marbled teals flew over, frightened by the rotorwash of blackhawk helicopters touching down. One baboon even escaped from the city limits. It was found wandering in the desert, confused by the wind and the sand of the barchan dunes.