Wash ,'Our Mrs. Reynolds'
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
Argh! Editing harder than writing book in the first place!
It is if you're doing it right! Chip Delaney says that editing a page usually takes him three to four times longer than it did to write it. He 'budgets' an hour a page.
Not that every writer should work the same way... but for somebody like me who writes middling first draft prose it's a blessing that it can be whipped into shape on subsequent passes....
BTW, I love the Shakespearean take on the family: Julius, Portia, Cordelia.
Everybody's a critic...I got notes from a carpet layer once. I wanted to say "Do I tell you how to lay carpet? No? Get a clue." But I realize a. I'm not just a Bitch but a bitch. b. You actually love your husband and care if he talks to you.
BTW, I love the Shakespearean take on the family: Julius, Portia, Cordelia.
I named Cordelia first as a Buffy shout-out, and then decided that their father loved his Shakespeare and decided to make the rest fit the pattern.
I have a short original story up in my LJ, and now I'm working on another one. Which is just bizarre-- I never get ideas this often.
Okay. New poem. I'm still wrestling with the last stanza.
Alchemy
Element 1.
“About transformation,” he said, “what’s
important isn’t what you change to, but
the fact that you’re changing.”
“Now put this on.”
Element 2.
I exchanged the smooth, unmarked
skin of my back for a 6-inch
livid purple scar
and the ability to walk
without pain again.
Element 3.
Cherry dress, bright red lipstick, four-inch heels.
Element 4.
In. I was immersed,
committing myself to
God. The coming out party
for my soul was held
under the weight of the water.
Element 5.
And back out. No ceremony
this time. Just me,
leaving with little fanfare.
Free from the weight.
Element 6.
I was unexpectedly sick,
strange new pain in my stomach and
redbrownred staining my pants.
Element 7.
Kissing a woman was not
that different
from kissing a man
and just as nice.
Element 8.
Now. Changes germinate
deep within, held in
stasis, waiting to
burst into bloom.
Steph, I don't know from poetry (no, really, I don't) but that's just cool.
Steph, bearing in mind that poetry is completely subjective on every possible spiritual level? That fucking floored me.
But yes, there's a hiccup of sorts in the final element. The stasis read beautifully - the burst into bloom seemed a bit forced? Breathless? Literally half a line from melting my socks.
Steph, I also don't know from poetry, but you've got some really powerful imagery in there.
Really strong, wonderful imagery.
I see what you mean about the last element.
It seems like you want to end on a note of anticipation, yes? For the next revelation?
If so, I think perhaps "barely held in check" might lend itself to anticipation better than "held in stasis"-- stasis being a much more sterile image than the others you've used in the poem.