a poetry fight from my 20s

wisdom takes a while

I was hosting a Zoom accountability group through my work with Pen Parentis (a nonprofit that helps writers stay on creative track after they have kids) and the topic of reading your own work came up.

I could do a whole post on reading aloud, what with my experience as a card-carrying actor as well as an MFA-bannered (or is is “branded”?) writer…

However, this morning’s discussion merely reminded me of an argument I’d had with a poet long long ago, in which I vehemently disagreed on how they read their own work: intentionally monotone, intentionally slowed to the point of audience frustration, intentionally extended pauses at the ends of lines…. in short “reading like a poet.”

(Let’s put aside the hubris that I as a 22-year old who had one single published prizewinning poem to my name should get any say in how a 50 year old who had books and books of poetry in the world reads their own poetry.)

(Actually, let’s also put aside the hubris that winning a prize or publishing or even being a “professional” critic should make any difference: no one gets to tell an artist how to do or show their art. Period.)

“Your poem is amazing, but your reading made it too hard to follow. It would be so much more compelling,” the petulant young version of…