Words: Coleen T. Houlihan - The Writer's Blog

When you buy a loved one a gift, why not a book of poetry or a novel… Not yours silly!!

Fri, 05 Mar 2010 09:47:43 -0800

Here’s a secret. I hate it when literary journals and publishers ask me to buy their books. “Hey,” I want to shout. “I’m a struggling artist myself. I’d buy your books if I could, but I’m broke! On that note, would you like to buy mine?”

Of course lit journals and publishers come to us because we are writers and know how much they need buyers for all of the great work they produce. They can’t publish us without being able to afford to do so. As a result of cost, so many journals are giving up the ghost when it comes to the printed form, opting to publish online only—I get that! And I do want to help, but—forgive the cliché—it’s not easy being a struggling artist. I buy a book here or there, a journal too, but I can’t subscribe to everything. Plus, my pile of things to read is growing by the moment. My three six foot bookcases have run out of room, so heaps of books have materialized. In theory, I have enough unread material to last me to the New Year. But excuses aside.

For those of us who have had the great fortune of publishing, and for those of us who are still (sniff, sniff—chin up!) trying, unless we help the journals and publishers who publish our work or may one day do so, they won’t continue to exist and therefore our work will have one less place to find a home in. The number of readers are diminishing too. You’ve heard the statistics—I’ve gotten drunk and cried with librarians out of camaraderie. And then I started thinking one day, perhaps it was around Christmas or a birthday, “Hmmm, what to get so and so…” A toaster, wine, winter boots? Pet snake, jewelry, a gift card? No—why not buy a book of poetry from a small press publisher or a large one? How about that new novel your friend published and is so happy about? In terms of novels, unless you’re a million copy seller, a lot of the smaller sellers get forgotten about. Each sale can help them. And you know what—there’s a book out there for everyone. Light stuff, dark stuff, funny, poignant, women centered, male focused—whatever. It is out there and to give one as a gift helps more people than you can imagine.

(Though I mentioned I have a pile of unread books, nothing seduces me quite so much as getting more and it is my unbirthday, so, on that note...)

After you write the poem, how do you plan to be it?

Wed, 03 Mar 2010 08:17:32 -0800

I try to go to as many poetry readings as I can, both to hear others as well as to have my three minutes on the open mike. Recently, I’ve become very interested in presenting my poem, speaking the poem as well as I can. Why? you might ask—shouldn’t the importance of a poem be on crafting the poem? Yes, sure, absolutely; however, unless you only plan to publish your work and let subsequent readers have the pleasure of mouthing your words in their head, then you need to be able to present your poem vocally to the best of you and your poem’s ability. This is what I have learned so far:

Like an actor her monologue…

Every poem has a voice; it has a mood, a tempo, a sound. Sometimes, like people, the moods change depending on the day, the situation, the audience. What might have sounded soft and delicate during one reading can surprise you by becoming bolder and knowing during another.

Recite the poem; recite it over and over in the privacy of your room. Pay attention to your line breaks, but feel free to break in different places during your speech. Who the poem is can be best figured out by really understanding what the poem is about. You may find that there were many things in your poem you were unaware of—ironies, truths—this happens when you write in a fast, channeling ‘white heat.’ What happens to your voice as you read the poem; does it grow smoky and sensual, hard and aware, sharp and swift? Are there parts that are meant to be sung? Dramatic pauses to be injected? Give the poem the freedom to be what it desires—you are, after all only its creator. Like children our poems have no problem saying to us, thanks for the birth now let me do my own thing.

Practice reading everyday, ten minutes or more. Do it over and over. If you suffer from stage fright, and open mikes make your bowels soft as the hair on a baby’s head then this is advice directly aimed at you. Did you catch the Olympics this year? What makes athletes great? Practice, practice practice! The result is your confidence is born almost as rapidly as your poem’s voice.

Is this really necessary? No, you are welcome to mumble through your poems and hope the audience hears what you are saying, but for your sake as much as for your lovely poetic creation—know how to speak your poem. Practice, practice, practice… Who knows, the poem may give birth to a new confident you!

Field trip: If you don’t already, attend a slam or two. Slam poets are judged on their delivery of a poem as well as the content. They memorize the piece and do it dramatically. No need to memorize if you don’t want to, though that would be an added level. Simply see how others who are very aware and concerned over the presentation of their work do it.

Two Poetry Readings for February 2010

Mon, 01 Mar 2010 10:58:09 -0800

On Monday, February 22, I had a feature at Stone Soup. I was part of a group of five African American women. It was a lovely evening of poetry. The differences in style were vast, yet we all formed a group with the common denominator of powerful work. I was struck by the amount of history in the women’s work. I felt like a traveler, moving with them, their ideas and words, being a child, seeing and feeling. Truly beautiful.

For my feature, my friend Seth Itzkan played the upright bass. We practiced quite a bit beforehand and our performance Monday evening went so well. I was extremely relaxed—that is one of the perks to performing with someone. A lot of the pressure is taken off you, because you know you will not be the only face the audience will see. I felt the poems, that night. Got inside them. The writing part of the poem was over; instead what took forefront was the presenting of the poem. Like an actress with a monologue, each poem has its own rhythm and character. I was able to deliver Monday night—almost as strongly as I imaged! A perfectionist to the end…

Saturday afternoon I read for A Centry of Voices in honor of Black History month in the Brookline Village Library. Again I was honored to read with a selection of wonderful poets such as: Bridgit Brown, Charles Coe, Mignon Ariel King, January O’Neill and Lolita Paiewonsky. Both events were arranged and hosted by Mignon Ariel King who worked tirelessly and did such a beautiful job. What is exciting is being around poets who are moved by poetry and enthusiastic about it. We all had different styles, and that is very heart quickening too because it reminds you that there is so much about poetry—ways of writing and thinking—that one has learn. Always.

Well, it’s a new year! Do you know where your goal list is?

Sat, 09 Jan 2010 11:51:38 -0800

Always at the start of a new year, I am filled with hope. It is as if I were standing in front of a wide, sunny path flanked with spruce. Looming ahead is great beauty, and yet, after a while, it is impossible to see what lies around the bend. Instead of provoking anxiety, there is elation. ‘This is the year!!’ is what my psyche seems to say. ‘For what?’ asks my rationale. ‘Everything…’

The process of making a list of goals at the start of a year is not mere superstition; instead it is a great way to realign the mind. For the past few weeks before the end of the year, most of us have been running around: buying gifts, hoping they won’t be returned, writing and sending cards, opening and displaying cards, eating fatty foods, seeing friends and family… Although lovely it can be very discombobulating. And then, like a beacon of light, the end of it all and the birth of a New Year.

With ever goal that you commit to paper, you also fix into your mind. Like a train veering, the goal says to you, Ah, so this is what you really want to focus on—not the dirty dishes in the sink or the routine errands you have to run. Because, with the beauty of every new year also comes the everyday subsist. It is so easy to loose your true desires to the pressing daily demands. View your goal list as a warrior does their shield and lance, as a defense and banisher and you will be reminded of what it is you really want to focus on.

Faith, and why artists should get paid

Thu, 26 Nov 2009 15:15:04 -0800

Thank you to the lovely person who left a comment about my post discussing rejections.

I love those stories of writers who struggled to get their work published and who are now considered classics. On the other hand, stories like Vincent Van Gogh scare me. Although he wasn’t looking for what is traditionally thought of as success, was content to give his art away and specifically wanted it to go to working class families who could not afford art, his life’s outcome is not how I want my life or my writing career to become. True, he is revered now, and his paintings go for millions (billions?), but this is all after the fact. Never during his life did he ever sell one painting. I believe he died penniless and with mental problems.

In many ways I think this world we are in, fast paced, materialistic makes it even harder to live only for one’s art. It takes money to live, so the fact that artists—whatever form they may take—want to be paid for their work is not vanity but necessity. When a person takes the time to create something, hopefully working hard and giving all they can, don’t they deserve some sort of recognition, be it monetary or something else? I think they do. As an artist, when you are working alone or even with a writing group, a little recognition can do a lot to foster the most important thing for an artist—FAITH!

Another Rejection

Thu, 15 Oct 2009 12:23:10 -0800

I should be better at this by now—no, not writing… dealing with rejections. The folder where I house them slowly grows fat. I could be depressed. Did I say ‘could’? But then out of nowhere comes the blind determination. The rejection gets shoved into the folder and dutifully recorded in the submittal spreadsheet. I’m sure this is a character builder. I’m sure this should be a character builder. Read the newspapers and immediately I am reminded of what a real problem is. Yet it is disheartening when work you’ve spent so much time on and entered so much of yourself into should be sent back time and time again.

There are some writers who do not like to speak of this. Writers who feel it is their plight to be rejected and not paid. Well, it maybe the ‘way things are’ but that doesn’t make it feel any better. And the result is the blind determination I mentioned. This goes for all artists: the actress, the painter, the sculptor…

What a strange pursuit, the using of your mind to create. How do you know that what you have put to paper or frozen forever on canvas is right? And what are the mantras other than ‘hope’ and ‘prayer’?

Still at it. Excuse me, have you seen my head?

Fri, 09 Oct 2009 06:58:32 -0800

I’ve been busy doing work with my group Congo Action Now (CAN). We are hosting a vigil in Harvard Square Saturday, 2-4PM. Stop by!

In terms of writing, I finished a novella and plan to use the majority of the long weekend to edit. (I’ll tell you more about the novella later.) I’ve put editing on hold for the past four weeks, indulged in bad TV and wine drinking. My new gourmet food is pan popped popcorn, lightly salted, with a lovely glass of cheap read wine and a piece of chocolate (or two) to finish. So good! But I must, must put a** to seat and DO WORK. I have several new projects I would like to begin…

I’m also taking a children’s book writing class—only attended two so far. I have a feeling the best I will get out of it is the feedback. You really can’t put a price on feedback. The class has reminded me how much I love school—the learning and work associated with making a piece the best it can be.

Plus I’m kicking around a couple of new ideas in terms or marketing myself. But I am only in the brainstorming phase.

As always I am submitting my work to EVERYONE and receiving many rejections. Oh but it is lonely at the bottom Ha! Ha!

It is difficult staying in contact with friends. There is so little time. I go from work to home and back again and during the free moments try to write or edit or submit or everything else in between. Well, I’m sure I’m not alone in this and winter can be a great time to bury oneself.

To be a writer, one must write

Wed, 01 Jul 2009 12:44:55 -0800

These past few months I’ve been busy writing, mainly short stories, as well as a few poems. There is a fire inside me. So many young artists have died, and their deaths encourage me to work harder and faster. The days of our lives are not guaranteed. Joyce Carol Oates says that to die in the middle of a work is one of her terrible fears. For what happens to the unfinished piece? It is forever unexpressed. Even worse are the ideas that are never turned into the story, the poem, the novel. Like ghosts, like beautiful images glimpsed in dreams and them forgotten. I do not want to forget mine. I fight to transcribe it to paper. I bury myself away. I will emerge later…

Still up and at em

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 11:51:31 -0800

So, for the past few months I’ve been working on some new short stories. Going well. My next project will be to begin another novel. Recently, someone said to me, “Wow, after writing three novels and not having them published, I’m amazed you’ll write another one.” Yet, isn’t that the job of a writer? Not to mention it is wonderful practice. Though I continue to submit two of my finished novels, a writer must never sit twiddling thumbs and holding breath. Write… Write! Write! Write! Eventually it will happen. If all others one day roll their eyes, simply make sure yours are steady. Gotta go—running to the Out of the Blue Gallery for some poetry. Oh, I am now on Facebook and Twitter— and a dubious page called Tagged—check it out, and friend me please!

A Happy Belated New Year

Mon, 23 Feb 2009 11:46:35 -0800

The days move so quickly—whether or not one is having fun! At the start of the year I was determined to write a novel in the month of January. Now that January is past, and February almost as well I am kicking myself not so gently. It has been tough these past few days to be active and positive with writing. I fall into these lethargies from time to time. Perhaps with the thought of warmer days I will be able to invigorate myself. Or perhaps I should just think about the fact these novels/stories/poems do not write themselves so… The real trouble lies in the starting of a new project. I have about twenty pages of what I hope will be a southern tale of passion and violence, but because I am only at the beginning, I have yet to really figure out what it is I want to do. This is what is tripping me up. Once I have a better idea of the story itself, I will hopefully fall into the world or where a novel ‘writes itself.’ I LOVE that place! On another note of encouragement for other writers (I want to think of a cute name for us—why not!!) I am reading the new issue of Poets and Writers. It is a great magazine; also check out Writer’s Digest. Read little kitties. Read!