Routine Writing

The desire to write well, the desire to write extraordinarily well can hinder the likelihood of any writing at all. Most writing is going to be mundane, clichéd, substandard, and uninspired. I know that. Consciously I accept that. But when it comes to having the motivation and discipline to write, I stall, avoid, and leave it undone. This is why I need to build the discipline of 20-minute writing sessions, yet again. 20 minutes is possible in almost any circumstance. And I go into it with no expectations except to have the bragging rights that I have written. 

Today's session felt uninspired. I wrote from an artistically done photo of a domestic scene. As you would expect the subject of the writing was a domestic scene about making coffee and a mother cuddling with her son. There was some life in the mother's stream-of-consciousness, but it did not excite me. The words were not fresh or inspired. But it was writing. I was meditating on what that life would be like. Reaching into that environment with my imagination. It was something. 

The downside of 20 minutes is that it's not enough writing time for experiments with saying things in different ways, revising, and rethinking the way I'm putting together words. I will need more time to develop more style and inventiveness again. I need to be thinking ahead to what the goal would be after 20 minutes becomes habit. Thankfully I have a Poetry Retreat coming up next week with poet friends. There I will be able to sink more deeply into the process for a weekend. 

Lessons Learned from NaNoWriMo

Writing 50,000 words in 30 days was a tremendously positive experience for me. Over the last ten or fifteen years, I had come to think of myself as a poet ONLY. I dabbled with fiction for a few pages at a time, dreamed about maybe one day trying my hand at it again, but never gave myself permission to take the time and to put in the effort to follow a set of characters for an extended period of time. Now that I have stuck with this cast for 30 days, I believe in my ability to do so again and again. A door for creativity has been opened to me.

Now I know that an hour or even 30 minutes a day is plenty enough time to work on a scene, to get some dialogue flowing and to keep momentum going forward in an initial draft. I was amazed how by sitting down for a solid hour in the morning I was usually able to crank out 1,600 words without strain. I won’t claim they were great words or even okay words, but for a first draft, I’m not supposed to worry about that at all. It’s more a matter of learning who the characters are, who they want to be, what they want to do, and where the plot is going. The first draft is only an exploratory journey and a get-to-know-you period, if you will. I’m excited to know that it doesn’t take a major change in my daily schedule to foster that process.

I learned that I can write under terrible conditions, or at least what I once thought were terrible conditions for writing creatively. During the week of Thanksgiving, I had four house guests. That is to say, I had six people total in my little house that only has two bathrooms. The “office” where I usually write had a guest staying in there on an air mattress. He happened to be the latest sleeper too, so I wasn’t able to get access to my home PC in the mornings. During the day the PC was usually tied up by another guest who was doing Black Friday and Cyber Monday shopping. Good thing I had borrowed a laptop from work! I was able to sit on the floor of my bedroom and write whenever I could squeeze it in. Sometimes the time was stolen in the mornings or in the late afternoons. One time everybody else was watching a movie I’d already recently seen, so I took those 2 hours to write in bed. This experience taught me to look for those tiny pockets of time and space to write. I don’t need to wait for the ideal situation. Every little amount of writing you can do adds up.

Lastly, I want to underline something I alluded to earlier in this post: FIRST DRAFT WRITING DOES NOT HAVE TO BE HIGH QUALITY! This is a lesson about turning off the internal editor. I found myself bored a few times when I was creating scenes. I also had a few days when I caught myself saying that the book was a flop, that it was hopelessly boring and dull. It very well might be, but when writing the first draft you have to set all those opinions aside. That’s the joy of revision. You can take a sorry story and throw in a few twists and turns and turn it into something wonderful. But you never get that opportunity if you don’t jot down the first round of garbage and let your characters explore options. Outlining doesn’t seem like a viable option to me. I could come up with an outline that says what the characters should do, but that doesn’t mean that they will show up and do those things. It’s only by muddling through the exploration of storytelling that your characters announce where they are going and what is going to happen. You have to trust that process and work the process and tell your editor that he/she needs to shut up until needed later.

50,000 Word Goal Has Been Met!

Midway Point Novel Status Report

Today is the 16th of November. Yesterday was the halfway point in the 30 days, and I achieved getting past 25,000. At the end of the day yesterday, I was at 25,750 words.

This morning I wrote 917 words and I hope to write more later.

The writing continues to go well, obviously. There have been times when I felt too tired or too drained to write. A couple times recently I caught myself wasting time on internet browsing when I ought to have been writing. There have been a couple mornings where I stayed in bed later than I should. On these “reluctant” writing days, I’ve gone ahead a written eventually. Typically these were days when I had no idea what scene to write next. The best I could do was to ask myself, “Which character do I have the most interest in today?” I’d pick that character and write some kind of scene that was suited for that character. A few times the scenes didn’t advance the plot much, but at least helped with the word count. In a couple cases, I learned something new about the character that might come in as important later.

Dialogue seems to be going the easiest. I get two characters talking and it goes and goes and goes. Usually I try to have the characters at odds about something, so they’re not just being nice and sweet to each other. I know that in my earliest attempts at fiction writing my biggest problem was lack of tension and conflict. So even if the conflict is minor (someone is angry because the kitchen is messed up), I try to keep the characters in tension.

Lastly, my other successful option has been bringing in new characters. Whenever I introduce a new character to the mix, my writing takes off again. I realize that I can’t add characters all the way through. Being at the halfway point, I actually probably need to stop. So my last major character was introduced this week and he is a lot of fun. He’s comic but also crucial, and he’ll probably grow in the story to the point of being mature and highly valued. I think.

So that’s how it’s going!

Wanna Help Me Write a Novel in 30 Days?

[This post has been edited after the "suggestion period" expired. I've stipped out the details so there are no spoilers for anyone who gets to read this novel SOMEDAY!]

I’m asking all my creative and imaginative friends to help me write my novel this month. I’d like to hear any ideas you have based on the following characters and situations. Feel free to brainstorm wildly. You can suggest anything, and I mean anything! Don’t like one of the characters? Suggest that character die in some awful and bizarre way. Want to add complications? Have someone win the lottery or steal a car. Truly anything goes!

While I can’t possibly promise to use every idea, I’m hoping to incorporate those that surprise me and advance the story in a way that the characters will go along with. I’ve not yet solidified how this will all turn out so you might have a huge influence on the direction of the story.

Here’s the basics of what I’ve developed so far:

Main Characters & Their Situations:

Margery Adams: 3rd grade school teacher whose life is turned upside down when she takes in a little, neglected girl.

Sharon: 3rd grader, the neglected girl with the swollen eye.

Audrey: School nurse, mastermind of a secret vigilante operation against inept or otherwise incapable parents.

Mitch: former cop, son of Audrey, the muscle and pain inflictor of vigilante effort.

Lakeesha: Sharon’s mom, sends her daughter away with a black garbage bag of clothes (and hidden in the clothes, a gun).

Denzel: unemployed, wants his gun back.

James: “jack of all trades” and self-professed healer.

Final Instructions:

Let your imagination have a field day here, since you don’t have to actually write the novel—I do! For instance, if you want one or more of these characters to be abducted by aliens or ninjas, go ahead and suggest that. Or if you want a flood to strike and destroy the school or someone’s house, that’s okay too. Just go nuts!!!!

2nd Weekend Update on Writing a Novel in 30 Days

I’m at 21,287 words (the goal being 50,000) which is exactly on target for finishing on Nov 30th. This is thanks to Christi, since she’s the one who gave her blessing to write in the car this weekend. No, I wasn’t driving while writing! Christi was driving, but she gave me permission to write in the passenger seat while she drove. Since I was already ahead on my word count going into this weekend, I was able to keep up with the daily average requirements even though I wrote a lots less on Friday and Saturday in the car. We were in the car due to our trip to Atlanta for the Johns Creek Poetry Festival, where I did spontaneous poems again--so even more writing!!!!

I’m starting to wonder about an ending for the novel and have a few ideas, but don’t know whether the characters are going to cooperate with those. I’ve gotten my last few scenes from pure character surprises, writing to find out what they were going to do. Man, I never saw that cue stick coming for the back of that guy’s head. Nor did I know that a sermon would change the lives of two of my characters. So I’m hoping for more surprises like that.

And I'm hoping for more surprises like my friend Todd's latest poem. Check out his poetry at “Sentient Force Field.”
--it rocks!

NaNo Novel Writing Update - Day 9

At the beginning of day 9, I’m at 14,352 words on my novel. The goal is 50,000 by November 30th.

Here’s a day by day summary of how I got this far.

Day 2

I’m up to 4382 words so far. Today was rougher than day 1 due to a poor night’s sleep, but it’s early in the game, so if I’m not as productive now, I can catch up.

Day 3 -5

I wrote steadily each of these days, gradually losing my cushion of extra words, but not falling behind.

Day 6

Wrote this to Mom:

The novel thing is going steady for me, but not stellar. Today I had time in the morning to write, but I stared at a blank page for a while and then decided to do some devotion time instead. If I don’t write today, I will fall behind on my daily word count. But I might let it go for today, in hopes that something great will occur to me for tomorrow.

Yesterday I wrote a scene with a new character that could potentially change the whole direction of the book. My original idea doesn’t seem to be working very well even though I’m telling myself not to worry about it and not to judge it.

We’ll see if the day off gets the juices flowing again. I might look at some fiction writing books tonight to see if I find any advice there.

Additionally I keep feeling the tug to write a book about what and why I believe, something I could give away to friends.

I’m praying for God’s inspiration and direction for my writing and for whatever else He wants me to do.

Later that evening I sent Mom this email:

I ended up grabbing some writing time this evening after all.

What I wrote was different angle on a scene that had been alluded to in a conversation, so I didn’t move the story ahead very much. I only visualized the scene in more detail and from a different POV.

I got 1418 words out of this exercise.

Since this novel in a month thing allows for exploratory stabs at a novel, I think I’m keeping to the intended goals.

My hope is that the action will move forward some more tomorrow. I might have to get my character into an accident or find a stray dog or bump into an old flame. Something to stir up some sparks of action.

Day 7:

I got 1,428 words today.

Had to write in the morning and in the evening to get up to that number.

I ended today on the verge of a pivotal scene, so I would have something exciting (I hope) to write tomorrow morning.

This is by no means the novel I set out to write, but I’m following the characters and the plot ideas as they come, so it is organic at least.


Day 8:

Having a “pivotal” scene to write in the morning was a good strategy. I got 1362 words out of the scene this morning.

I really need to squeeze in more writing time if I ever want to get ahead, but at least I’m not behind for the 30th deadline.

As write through this second week, I need to keep looking for pivotal scenes, keep the characters in “action” where at least they are doing something to effect each other, and toward the end of the week I need to start dreaming up an ending of some kind.

Day 9:

Another day, and what do I do?
Waste my novel writing time updating my blog!

Spontaneous Poetry, Sunday, September 13th

From: "Facebook"
Sent: Sunday, September 13, 2009 12:26 PM
To: "Keith Badowski"
Subject: Elsie Austin sent you a message on Facebook...

Elsie sent you a message.

--------------------
Re: Poetry Challenge for Sunday

ew...but, what's on my mind today is boring, but, here goes...and, if you can make anything lovely out of this, I will make your favorite dessert for Oct. 1...

steering committee
treasurer's reports
budgets
faculty
contests
honoraria
travel expense
food, drink and snacks
grants
seed money
registrar reports
paint peeling
paint drying
snooze fest
thing a noose around my neck
poetry
fiction
creative non-fiction
literary agents
manuscripts
ad infinitum
ad nauseum
Anastasia
writers' conferences
turnip seeds
compost
tiller
Yoville
Facebook
hackers
swine flu
avian flu
sneeze

I do apologize in advance but trust that twinkle in your eye! Best of good fortune on making this anything lovely and fun....Elsie
--------------------

Inpawspicious Beginning by Keith Badowski

We needs have words, Mr. Doggie Doo!
I see you there in my bed comfy as can be.
I know your spraying sneeze is no avian flu
and your eviction requires no steering committee.

This snooze fest, you’ve milked it, it’s over!
You’ve filed no travel expenses, no budget requests
so I’m certain you’re no flunky to President Rover.
If you push it, I’ll launch a formal inquest

to determine just what you do to deserve food,
drink, and snacks, turning my seed money to compost.
Your paws across the drying paint disclaim you’re good,
as does the treasurer’s report on the missing pot roast.

It would be different if your paws could type
or hold a pencil and you could maybe write a grant.
In this age of post-postmodernism the time is ripe
for a dog to write fiction in addition to scratch and pant.

See I’d like something tangible from the honoraria
I gift you—the way I get turnips from turnip seeds.
So far you fake swine flu and I play the man from Samaria
but instead now it’s going to be manuscripts I decree.

We’ll need duct tape to fasten a pencil to your pads
and I suggest you try creative non-fiction before poetry.
I heard “write what you know” over and over ad
infinitum, and you know so well how to pee on a tree.

Don’t worry about a thing; I’ll be your literary agent
and groove you a career as straight as a roto tiller.
You must write as richly as your most pungent scent
and the writer’s conferences will teach you to cut filler.

In no time, you’ll have the upper paw in all the contests
and spur a canine literary movement or even a school.
Write a bestseller on ball-chasing in Budapest
and follow that up with a manifesto on doggie drool.

Oxford or Yale would surely put you on the faculty
and Pet Smart might release that collar around my neck.
Glowing registrar reports will assure a tenure trajectory—
in doggie years of course, and kibble in place of check.

Don’t give me those Benji eyes, you furry little hack!
Wasn’t I right when I advised against eating peeling paint?
Telling you what to do ad nauseum is my bestest knack.
On Facebook we’ll even find you a German Patron Saint—

let’s call her, let’s say, something like Saint Anastasia,
and when you have writer’s block, she’ll be your council
trade you inspiration for your output of anesthesia
and when you bark, NO, she’ll reply, “Yo Vil, Yo Vil, Yo Vil!”




Note: As you can see, I had some silly fun with this one. Also I’ll confess I cheated on a few of the phrases and words, changing the form, the order, and even altering the word completely. Yet you should be able to find some semblance of each item Elsie gave me. I normally don’t rhyme in my “all my own” poetry, but the spontaneous challenges sometimes bring it out in me, usually for comic effect. You’ll have to let me know, Elsie, if this qualifies for that dessert!

How to Enjoy Writing: A Book of Aid and Comfort by Janet and Isaac Asimov

How to Enjoy Writing: A Book of Aid and Comfort by Janet and Isaac Asimov

If you’re looking for a book to help lift your writing to new heights, this is NOT it. However, if you enjoy writing and enjoy reading about writers and their opinions about the writing process and why writing matters, this little book might very well delight you as it did me.

The Blank Notebook

by Keith Badowski

This article originally appeared in the Georgia Poetry Society newsletter, Spring 2009.

Prior to my passion for poetry, it was comics—first Charlie Brown and then Spider-Man. I practiced drawing Snoopy as one continuous contour line, lifting the pen only when his leg met his distended belly, so I could darken his teardrop ear with scribbles and draw on his collar.

In childhood, I lost track of so many things: how many times I copied Charles Schultz, how many times I scanned the stationary isle while my parents shopped for groceries. How magnetized I was to the tablet of unlined paper and filled with the anticipation of comic strips I would draw, copying the Sunday comics in pencil, cramming in the speech and thought balloons, carefully putting the printed words inside, tracing overtop it all in black ballpoint ink. When Mom would agree to place the tablet of paper in the shopping cart, she’d make me promise to use it all up, every page, before asking for another. Most likely she knew I’d never use the entirety of any tablet I’d been granted.

Yes, as my wife knows, it’s the same story today; I buy a new notebook—a book of blankness, bursting with the untapped energy of potential: a novel might finally get written or a sequence of sonnets to put the Bard to shame, or the creation of an iconic character, the likes of Spider-Man or Sherlock Holmes.

I own four-hundred and forty notebooks, all of which have been written in, but still include some or even many blank pages. I have never completed a novel and never written a single sonnet with which I’ve been completely satisfied. Yet I bought this new notebook on which I am writing with the antsy hope that the freezer-box of my head might defrost, that the blank yet lined pages might absorb some words for me.

This notebook actually sat untouched in my junk mail pile in the kitchen for a week. Its red cover taunted me, as if to say, ‘Stop! Write, if you can.’ But none of it worked even though I’d felt that same childhood excitement in the checkout line, that inner mantra of ‘My notebook, mine! My notebook, mine!’ as I carried it to my car.

Late one night, while in bed, the notebook out of sight but yet in mind, I told my wife that it’s been ages since I’ve written anything, “My creativity has dried up.” In the dark, I heard her say, “Why don’t you go out and treat yourself to a brand new notebook, a fresh start.”

I snuggled up right against her and wrapped my arms around her and told her how much I loved her and how sweet it was that she would say that, especially when in our office there are so many unfinished notebooks. I confessed too that I’d already splurged on such a purchase, that this red notebook, lay awaiting my pen and how no new writing had yet occurred. I confessed that I’d wasted an hour in the morning on checking email and browsing the web for TV and movie gossip. And I told her of the boy I’d once been who had rejoiced at the fresh blank tablet, what a thrill it had been to receive that collection of potential.

The conversation between me and my wife happened last night, and my heart is still full from my wife’s generous suggestion. Sure, a notebook costs so little, but it seems extravagance when you’ve got shelves full in the other room. I’m grateful for her blessing upon my creative endeavor, even though she categorizes most of what I write as ‘so weird.’ This time it took her love to loose these words, to bless the moving of my pen. Her love ignited this—what I have written this morning.

Anne Sexton on Letting Out 'Some Extraordinary Animals'

Patricia Marx asks Anne Sexton what she means when she says, "The form is always important."

PM: Do you mean by form just the physical look of the poem?

Anne Sexton: Yes, sometimes, but also the sound. But I think of it as something you can hold. I think of it with my hands to begin with. I don’t know what the poem will be and I start out writing and it looks wrong. I start a long line and that looks wrong, and a short line, and I play around with rhyme, and then I sometimes make a kind of impossible syllabic count, and if I can get the first verse and it’s right, then I might keep on with that for four more verses, and then I might change it because I felt that it needed a new rhythm. It has as much to do with speech as it does with the way it will look on the page, because it will change speech—it’s a kind of compression. I used to describe it this way; that if you used form it was like letting a lot of wild animals out in the arena, but enclosing them in a cage, and you could let some extraordinary animals out if you had the right cage, and that cage would be form.

from “Interview with Anne Sexton” (1965)by Patricia Marx in Anne Sexton: The Artist and Her Critics edited by J.D. McClatchy (1978)

Anne Sexton seems to be saying that by using formal structure in poetry, the poet is liberated in terms of content. Sexton, at least, found form to be freeing instead of limiting. One way this might be characterized is that the form occupied the logical part of the brain, allowing the creative side to sneak out and go wild. --Keith Badowski

Dennis Lehane on The Given Day (novel)

You can watch this video for free at Amazon.com.  
Video:       Dennis Lehane on "The Given Day"  
Comment:     Here's a rare thing--an author interview where the novelist clearly shares his logic in constructing plot and character. Also comments on the gift of those characters that just "show up". Lehane is unquestionably one of my most admired novelists. --Keith Badowski

Watch this video at http://www.amazon.com/gp/mpd/permalink/mB850HYHBAVZY    

Writing Toolbox: Spring Boards

Ever since I was introduced to the concept of freewriting, early in my undergrad college days, I have been a big believer in keeping loose, especially in the early drafts of any piece of writing. In the last few years, I have found a few specific techniques that help me to keep writing and, in some cases, lead to poems.

One such method has been spring boarding off a line in some other poet’s works. My favorite resource has been Carolyn Forche’s collection The Blue Hour, in particular her poem "On Earth", a forty-six page chant of images and phrases which are alphabetically arranged. I copy a single phrase from the poem on the top of the page in my notebook. Then I free-associate as I write, thinking about what the line evokes for me.

Sometimes I write about memories from my own life. Other times, I imagine a persona who has spoken the Forche line and write a monologue in that voice. I might write down a series of related images or ideas. Occasionally I write down the road of whimsy imagining a surreal universe where anything can happen, as in dreams.

To give you the flavor of Forche’s lines (my favorite prompts), here’s a sample:

as for children, so for the dead
as gloves into a grave
as God withdrawing so as to open an absence
as he appears and reappears in the unknown
as if a flock of geese were following
as if there were no other source of food
as if to say goodbye to his own mind
as if we had only one more hour
as if with the future we could replace the past
as in the childhood of terror and holiness

I have used all the above lines as prompts to keep me writing for hours and hours. Why not give it a try yourself? Even if you use only the 10 lines I have given above and write for only 15 minutes in response to each prompt, you will write blissfully for 2.5 hours.

This strategy for writing typically works best for me if I don’t worry too much about the results. In other words, I don’t start with any expectation of producing a poem. Often I leave whatever writing that results from this in my notebook for a year or more. Then whenever I finally get around to it, I open up my notebook to discover pages and pages of writing that I know I wrote, but I don’t remember actually writing. That is to say, I have given myself enough distance on the writing that it is as if someone else wrote it. At that point, I have the correct perspective to discover whether any of these bursts of freewriting have any potential to become poems. To my delight and surprise, many poems have resulted from this process. Of course, there are also many pages of writing that are hopelessly terrible and deserve only to be burned. But the process must be endured for that wonderful result of a few good poems.

At some point soon, I’ll share some other techniques along these lines.

Oh, and by the way, I am anxiously awaiting your challenges and/or assignments for my Spontaneous Poetry Friday. Please do send me something. I will guarantee use of the first one I receive (and will allow the possibility of using some of the others.)

Dream: My Lost Papers

Last night I dreamed of walking in a museum in Birmingham. The exhibit theme was “letters, notes, and scraps of paper found in circulated library books.” The display items, various slips of paper, were placed in rows and rows of cubbyhole boxes which were open for anyone to reach inside. I picked up several pieces of paper and skimmed the writing there. I was strangely pleased that four of the items I picked up were in my own loose handwriting from different eras of my life. Among my lost papers were poems partially written, notes written to pass among friends in grade school, letters I’d folded and attempted to preserve with Scotch tape plastered to the creases, research notes from reference books, and grocery/to do lists. I experienced a sense of pride at finding my own writing displayed among this collection, as if my writings were as important as the manuscripts of John Lennon, T.S. Eliot, or Jerry Seinfeld. Perhaps this dream originated from my recent experiences at the Emory University research library where they have in their collections significant batches of manuscripts by such poetic greats as Ted Hughes and Seamus Heaney. Also my parents who are preparing to sell their house in New York called me the other day to tell me that they found boxes I’d stashed away in the attic. Among the items they found were my high school yearbooks (which I’d given up for lost), Star Wars action figures, and my set of Hardy Boys books.

How the Dwarves of Yore Rang My Bell By Keith Badowski

This article originally appeared in the Georgia Poetry Society newsletter, December 2007.


I suppose every poet can point to a few formative experiences with poetic works that inspired attentiveness to poetry and stirred up the desire to make more poetry. In my case, the earliest poem imprinted on my consciousness was J.R.R. Tolkien’s song/ballad that begins “Far over the Misty Mountains cold” from The Hobbit.

The primary means of transmission was the animated version of The Hobbit which aired on television in 1977—when I was nine years old. In heavy rotation on my turntable was the vinyl record album of the soundtrack, and to this day, I can still hear the dwarves singing their history for Bilbo Baggins:

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,
To dungeons deep and caverns old,
We must away, ere break of day,
To seek our pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells,
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

I’m sure, at the time, I thought of this poem mainly as a song, one I could sing along with as I memorized the entire soundtrack through repeated listening. The other thing that the animated show inspired in me back then was an interest in writing and reading. As I realized that The Hobbit was based on Tolkien’s book, I wanted to read it and Tolkien’s other books—The Lord of the Rings series. Also I began to have the desire to make books, after Tolkien’s model. My earliest writing attempts were fantasy stories, featuring far off lands, sword-wielding heroes, and strange monsters.

I became more aware of Tolkien as a poet while studying a unit on Poetry in middle school. When asked to memorize a poem to recite in class, I chose “Over the Misty Mountains”, probably because it was still rattling around in my head from my earlier overdose.

While Tolkien’s song did not immediately inspire me to write poetry, it has had a lingering influence on poetry writing—which began in earnest during high school. My very first published poems appeared in the high school literary magazine, Everness, in 1984, including a fantasy adventure ballad, entitled “The Ivory Bear”, loosely modeled on the style of Tolkien’s “Over the Misty Mountains”.

Hither came he to the Mount of Fate;
He came with a purpose from the Land of Hate.
The tale he had heard had brought him there;
The tale he had heard of an ivory bear.

The bear of gems and ivory forged
Placed on an altar with gold they gorged.
His plan was such to claim it all
For the race who had made it had taken a fall.

Yes, I admit it’s not very good, but I think the influence is obvious. I remember having so much fun writing it too, with all those rhyming couplets.

In college English Lit classes, I was exposed to Tolkien’s influences, Anglo Saxon poetic narratives, such as Beowulf, and Middle English alliterative poems, such as Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Tolkien’s use of alliteration sank very, very deep hooks into my poetic tastes. How I still adore the sounds of phrases such as “Misty Mountains”, “dungeons deep”, and “hollow halls”.

To this day my own poems often slip into alliterative phrases. I must go back through in the revision process to cut some of these, because otherwise an excess of alliteration would give a funny, archaic feel to what I’d prefer to be contemporary sounding poems. Yet I never cut the alliteration entirely, because those sounds are what first won me over to poetry. For me that stylistic tool still contains a bit of magic.

It’s not only fun to reminisce about a formative poetry-related experience; it’s also informative to your current writing to be aware of it. Perhaps by looking back at influential poems you can become more conscious about the stylistic and thematic choices you now make as a poet. Try to identify and revisit the poems that made the earliest imprint on you. You might just rediscover a “mighty spell”.

Keith Badowski is employed by a Methodist church in Phenix City, AL. His poems have appeared sporadically over the years in publications such as Oxalis, Monkey, and Rambunctious Review. To learn just how big a geek he is, visit his blog, entitled “There Goes the Top of My Head” which is found at http://keithbadowski.blogspot.com/