A Full Circle Moment
#tinysummerpoems + overcoming writer's block
Man, it’s been a while since I wrote a poem, let alone a poem I felt was worth sharing.
I’ll be honest, it’s been difficult to write for nearly a year. I do keep trying though — knocking out a chapter or two of my serialized fiction, an essay here and there, and working on my novel (same one, and yes, again — more to come on that in a future post this month!). It’s enough to keep my pen moving, but the words haven’t poured out like they did in the past. Can I blame insurmountable grief? Maybe. I don’t really want to, but if I’m being honest, that’s probably the culprit. That and my award-winning ability to dissociate by reading a book, playing Animal Crossing, or getting lost in a television series.
All things considered, I truly am desperate to push past it. So I must. But how? I just have to. It’s time, yet again, to remind myself:
Last week, an author I follow — — posted on her Instagram that it was time for the #tinysummerpoem to return. She posts a prompt daily, consisting of one word, and the goal is to write for ten minutes and create a poem. Easy peasy. Exercise your mind, get the words flowing, and be poetic. For ten minutes. I think it goes for a total of fifteen days (unclear). Anyone can do it! EVEN ME!
Usually, when I set out to do these types of “challenges”, I start strong for a day or two, and then… I fizzle. I let it fall to the side because I’m doing something else. I literally don’t even last two days!! There’s nothing to blame, either, except my own lack of discipline.
Ooof, I just got real with myself. It’s true, though — I simply lack the discipline. That hits me hard, but it’s honest. When I don’t have an end goal involved — something more than yay, you did it, whoo! — I end up dropping it. Whatever “it” may be. I think the biggest reason I actually finished writing the novel was to prove to myself I could do it… and I couldn’t do anything else due to the pandemic. But, I did it, and it felt good. It feels great when you accomplish something major, you know? I’m still riding that feeling, the high I got when I wrote the final sentence and sat back, looking at the page, realizing I finished the story. I finished the piece. Because I sat down and did the work. I actually wrote.
Being a writer means you write. Being a good writer requires you to spend time honing your craft and exercising the creative muscles and doing it often. Like, daily, if you can swing it. Or at least throughout most of the week. It’s hard for a lot of us to do that, especially when you have a day job… but you have to do it.
That’s my opinion!
(I can’t help myself — anytime I utter that phrase, I hear Tamra Barney screaming across the RHOC reunion set. I always will.)
It is my opinion, though, and I firmly believe it. Because I’ve seen it work in my own practice. If I can’t spend the time flexing those muscles, putting the pen on paper, working on sentence structures… I feel stagnant. Within my own craft, I have to do more than just “sit down at a typewriter and bleed”, like Hemingway said. I already know I can sit down and write if I make the time for it, but deep down, I yearn to be challenged and enjoy trying new techniques. It’s why I consult the many craft books I keep on my shelf (and keep buying more). I dip in and out of books like ’s Big Magic, Stephen King’s On Writing, and Steve Kowitt’s In the Palm of Your Hand. I do the exercises, fill notebooks, and when I complete my session, I set the pen down and walk away from my desk feeling delighted, accomplished.
But where are those pieces? Do I finalize them? Not often. I keep them in the notebook and vow to revisit and revise, to turn it into something publishable — either through submission to a publication or on my own blog. Starting this #tinysummerpoem stint, I’m reminded why I started my Substack in the first place. TO SHARE MY WORDS WITH YOU.
So, the challenge of the #tinysummerpoem is to simply write for ten minutes and not edit — just write — I’m doing exactly that. After the ten minutes are up though, or perhaps the next day, I will absolutely be spending time with the writing I completed. I want to share them here. I probably won’t share them all, but my hope is that I come out of this challenge with a handful of poems I feel good about sharing with the world.
To celebrate moving past this round of writer’s block (because, hey, I’m doing the damn thing!) and to end this post… I want to share one of the poems that was born out of the #tinysummerpoem challenge this week.
The prompt was “CIRCLE” and these words came pouring out. I didn’t do much revising after the ten minutes, either. I just rolled with it. I have to admit: that is hard for me to do. The editor in me is really hard to keep quiet. This word immediately (and obviously) made me think: spherical. It also conjured images of summer and the routine of an adolescent during the hottest months of the year (playing outside, swimming, running around with your friends, etc.). I can’t explain why — maybe because it’s the height of summer and I could hear the cicadas and birds singing in the morning sun.
I suppose it’s relevant too, this post I mean, to this prompt: I’ve come full circle with the process of overcoming writer’s block yet again: I write, I’m blocked, I write again, I’m blocked again, I write again... That’s the watered-down cycle, anyway.
Without further ado, here’s the raw poem in all her glory.
CIRCLES
summer friendships can never be broken / we tie the bands around our wrists / the daisy chains resting upon the tops of our sunkissed strands like tiny halos, our summertime crowns / clementine peels tumble onto the tufts of clover at our feet / when the sun burns too bright we dip our bronzed bodies under the chlorinated blue waters / we swim in circles, creating tidal pools / we are the mermaids we were born to be / the sun says goodbye / we swear we won't / lying in a circle on a plaid blanket, our heads touch and we look at the stars / vowing to always remember these daysMaybe I’ll change the title and revise the formatting, but I’m digging where I landed when my ten minute timer expired. I feel good when I complete this exercise! So, I am keeping my notebook close, ready to start the morning, spend a break between meetings, or grab any quick ten minute block of time available to create something small, precious and enjoyable.
Watch this space. I can’t believe I’m typing these words, but maybe this is my way of holding myself accountable and attempting to establish some kind of discipline in my personal practice. More to come…