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writer's house journal: C. K. Williams
I just realized I've been doing this wrong all semester. Okay, she gave us ruled papre, here goes- write the other way. Not that I *need* longer lines in my wrok, wot?
So. C. K. Williams. He's a really good *speaker*, and had I been less overcome with self-conciousness, I should have asked him about his voice training, since I need much help with that. Listening to the reading I could have been listening to an episode of "This American Life" on NPR, which is almost always good. There's some terrific art happening in thath show, and it is what single-handedly gave me my love for both the genres of creative nonfiction and spoken word. But it's not poetly and doesn't claim to be poetry. C. K. Williams's wolk was good enough - although I'll admit to only having read what was in the course packet (my excuse for being all quiet at the reading) - but I certainly *wasn't*, on a first reading anyway, drawn in by the depth and luminosity of his language. Prosy, yes, probably as prosy as anything I've ever dashed out at thelast minute for class and claimed was actually poetry. So we get back to the elementary question of what *is* poetry-> I was discussing with Jen the fact that my poetry is getting increasingly prosy, while my prose (what little of it I'm producing these days, and mostly fanfic, alas, thus unpublishable) are these 100-1000 word pieces with every phrase polished to obsessive pefection and pushing no seven layers of meaning, with experimental punctuation & linebreaks & dripping with emoution and pain and DEep Significance. I wonder if it isin't jsut taht that's been fulfilling my need for emotitve expression, and the poetry takes over whath's left.
So. C. K. Williams. He's a really good *speaker*, and had I been less overcome with self-conciousness, I should have asked him about his voice training, since I need much help with that. Listening to the reading I could have been listening to an episode of "This American Life" on NPR, which is almost always good. There's some terrific art happening in thath show, and it is what single-handedly gave me my love for both the genres of creative nonfiction and spoken word. But it's not poetly and doesn't claim to be poetry. C. K. Williams's wolk was good enough - although I'll admit to only having read what was in the course packet (my excuse for being all quiet at the reading) - but I certainly *wasn't*, on a first reading anyway, drawn in by the depth and luminosity of his language. Prosy, yes, probably as prosy as anything I've ever dashed out at thelast minute for class and claimed was actually poetry. So we get back to the elementary question of what *is* poetry-> I was discussing with Jen the fact that my poetry is getting increasingly prosy, while my prose (what little of it I'm producing these days, and mostly fanfic, alas, thus unpublishable) are these 100-1000 word pieces with every phrase polished to obsessive pefection and pushing no seven layers of meaning, with experimental punctuation & linebreaks & dripping with emoution and pain and DEep Significance. I wonder if it isin't jsut taht that's been fulfilling my need for emotitve expression, and the poetry takes over whath's left.