Hi, and thanks for reading! Today is Monday, so we’re going to talk about poetry.
If you want to go directly to the poetry exercise, and skip all this “recipe blog” backstory, scroll to the next subhead.
Did you know “exquisite corpse” is a drawing game? What is up with me stealing art games for writing brains? I blame ASU (fork ‘em Devils!), where I was first introduced to this activity in a poetry club.
My friend Molly is my original poetry friend. She’s the one I do NaPoWriMo with every year. She’s one of the many people who will send me a Facebook message in response to this newsletter, with nothing to preface it – just “Andrew also gets persistent nosebleeds.” Of course, I always understand immediately.
Every day, I thank God that Molly bludgeoned me into friendship without asking for approval. She was 100 percent correct to do it! After interacting briefly in a Facebook group, where I let slip that I wrote poetry, Molly messaged me, asked me to lunch, and told me to bring along a notebook. Meeting Molly (and her roommate, Kimberly, also a dear friend) was one of the most significant moments of my creative life. When we finished lunch, she invited1 me to join her creative writing club, Phoenexus.
Every other week, Phoenexus members met up to share writing, work on new poems, and participate in workshops. This is where I played “exquisite corpse” for the first time. As an art game, it is what it sounds like. You draw part of a body, then cover some of it. You pass it to someone else. They add to the body. They cover it up. They pass it along. And eventually you have a beautiful creature who couldn’t possibly be alive – an exquisite corpse.
It kind of reminds me of the “animal panel” activity station at playgrounds.
My Phoenexus friends and I did this, but with poems. You write a few lines, you pass it along. You write, you swap. It works with short stories, too, if you want to get way experimental. When you have a big group, you can keep it going for a long time.
But if you get a hankering for some of that sweet sweet corpse, and you’re all alone, well, great news! You can make like Mary Shelley and cobble together a literary monster of your own.
Think of this as “exquisite corpse solitaire.”
This exercise has two purposes. First: it helps you get out of the mindset of Only Creating When The Muse Strikes. It’s easy to say “oh, but the muse, she is so fickle, why won’t she bless me with her creative whims?!” It’s also easy to say “ugh, my writing time was interrupted, I was supposed to start at 8:00 but it’s 8:03 so I will wait until 8:30 and then get started, but that’s not enough time to write a full poem so maybe I try again tomorrow.”
I see you! I am you! You will not get out of writing so easily!!!
The second benefit of this exercise is to poke your peripheral consciousness. Remember back in November, when we did that translation exercise together? We were trying to do something similar. By disengaging from the writing, doing something else, and returning to the page, you become less attached to your original intention. You’re more open to visiting the places the language wants to take you. You’re not limiting yourself with expectation – and that means you can be more creative.
Exercise: Frankenstanzas
You’ll need: notebook or word processor, a timer, patience, something to distract you. That’s right! This is a poetry exercise for anyone Googling “ADHD symptoms in adults” and losing their dollar-store fidget cubes. So, uh, not me.
Write a couplet, two short lines – the first thing that comes to mind. They can rhyme or not. It’s better if they’re related to each other.
It can be a complete sentence/divided in two with a strategic line break.
Or, you can write two short sentences. Aim for five – ten words per line.After you’ve written your two lines, cover up the first line – just the first line! If you’re writing by hand, use a piece of paper to cover up the first line. If you’re using the computer, highlight your first line, and make the highlighter color the same as the text (black or grey).
Set your timer for at least five minutes.
Walk away.
Listen, I told you, this one requires patience. I’m asking you to interrupt yourself and get distracted. Maybe put on a movie that you’d like to serve as inspiration for your poem, or do some of your least-favorite chores. Whatever your distraction, keep at it until your timer goes off.That’s your cue to return to the poem! Look at that second line you left exposed when you walked away before. Put the first line out of your mind, and complete this new couplet – that “second line” is now your first line. You’re writing something that finishes the thought that began with the exposed line. Depending on how you started the exercise, that might be hard! Maybe your new “first line” is just a list of untethered adjectives. That’s fine! Write a second line that adds something or moves it forward.
After you’ve written a new line, cover up the first line, just like you did during round one. Now you have two lines that are covered, and one left exposed.
Set your timer. Walk away for five minutes.
Come back.
Write again.
As you move forward, you should keep covering up lines, leaving one exposed as your “foundation.” Then, you write a new line to go along with it.This can be an all-day project, or one that lasts the duration of a movie, or something you do while binge-watching TV. Aim for eight to ten lines in total.
Once you’re totally finished – once you’re bored or out of time or reach what feels like a perfect last line – reveal the complete poem to yourself.
Hopefully, this exercise unsticks some of your mental doors. We can get so wrapped up in the direction of a poem that we forget to be imaginative and open. There’s nothing wrong with going exploring, but using this format (and knowing the rest of the poem is right there if you need it) makes it feel safer.
Hey! Guess what! That’s our Monday post, so I’ll see you Friday…UNLESS you’re a paid subscriber.
Paid subscribers, I’ll see you tomorrow!!! I can’t wait!!! I am so so so happy to finally be launching the essay section of this newsletter and I hope you all subscribe!!!!!!!!!!!
(But if you don’t join a paid plan – hey, listen, I love writing this newsletter and I so appreciate you reading it. These exercises are meant to be fun, and I hope you’re starting your week off with a hearty helping of creativity!)
She threatened to behead me if I did not come.