The peach pit is the plot. The fiction writer has it, the poet doesn't. The poet can fake it (the poet can fake anything) and the fiction writer can ignore it, but still.
The peach pit is the plot. The fiction writer has it, the poet doesn't. The poet can fake it (the poet can fake anything) and the fiction writer can ignore it, but still.
Oh, it isn't a crisis. Either you naturally lean towards plot or you lean away from it. You can adjust your posture. You can do anything you want.
You can't be both. You can write in any form or genre, but you are either a poet and a fiction writer. They have different temperaments.
poets.org/poem/politic...
I like to think so :)
Poets and onions have no core. Peel away the layers and nothing's left. Fiction writers have a core. They are like peaches.
Today was good. I've got two more days of it. It's as simple as you think. I read into a microphone. When I mess up. I do the line over.
My boundary is basically: if you can google it, you should start there. Then we can talk :)
There will be people who will love you in ways you haven't even thought of. You may be disappointed with what's being offered right now, but don't stick too firmly to your way of thinking about being loved.
I want to get away from Elon. I'm doing both right now. Not sure what this one's like yet.
I was thinking that, too :)
The poet, like the onion, does not care who cries.
Hi :) The party's just starting
Also, Crush is 20 years old. There's a new hardcover anniversary edition coming out in the spring.
Tomorrow morning I record the audiobook for Crush.
Want to know a secret?
I will talk to anyone who is genuine and curious. People I thought would never give me the time of day actually took the time to answer my questions when I was younger. I am, we are, part of a long tradition.
I'm glad I inspire you to write. Eventually it will be your turn to be wise and inspiring. These disappointments are how you get wise. Failure is how you learn. You aren't having a problem with loving or being lovable, you just haven't found a good match yet.
If you add sex into the mix, it gets more complicated. Feelings, etc.. The whole thing is a sloppy mess.
It's hard to know yourself well enough to know what you want and commit to it, especially if you're under 25. A traditional engagement is one year before you get married, just to make sure. You're not even talking about marriage. It's okay to spend time with someone and not love them.
When people tell you what they want, you should believe them. It's hard to say what you want. It takes bravery. She is being brave and honest. It's an awful disappointment for you, though. She doesn't feel the electricity. You do. There's no way around it, you don't match each other.
Two great people can make one bad match. She is telling you two truths. Believe her when she says you are the greatest thing. Also believe her when she says she wants different. Either she wants an uncommitted life or she's waiting for someone else to commit to.
Can you make someone love you? I don't think so. Can you set up situations where love might happen? That you can do. Are you in a relationship and she's comfortable but won't call it love? Are you dating but she won't commit? Are only flirting? Each needs a different approach.
Poems are sad. If you want to impress her, start painting. If you want to seduce her, learn how to cook.
The thing is, it doesn't matter if you have it or you don't have it. The important part is the image, the turn of phrase. The pears. The shoes.
I think I have two poems that qualify. And a bit of a long poem. genius.com/Richard-sike...
Why do we write about what we don't have? Because the vocabulary of joy is grunts and moans and the vocabulary of loss is the dictionary. If you can point to it, you don't need a word for it. We invented language to describe what wasn't there.
Great art comes from curiosity. Unfortunately, we're most curious when we're in danger: we're curious for a solution. That's why it's easier to write when we're full of sadness, anger, or longing.
It's easy to talk about what you want and don't have. Once you have it, there's not much to say. You know why your keys are always in the last place you look? Because why would you keep looking when you find them? If you want to write about joy, look at Whitman or Neruda.
Thanks