Pick My Brain

some answers to your questions

Hi, Friend.

Today I’m answering an initial batch of questions from subscribers. There’s a lot to dive into here, including questions about revising, organizing a collection, finding a home for your work, starting an MFA program, and contending with writer’s block.

Here we go!

The first question is from Kevin:

My question (finally) is that you have a very good handle on revision, something I still struggle with. Did it take time to get to the point where it seemed more part of the process?…Do you know what would help me get to where revision seems like “old hat?”

Kevin, this is a great question. I’ve said it before, but revision is my favorite part of the writing process, so my first piece of advice is just that: Embrace it! Think of it as fun! Approach revision as play and experimentation. My guess is that cultivating this approach looks different for all of us, but my quickest advice is to identify the most exciting writing, and try to follow that. You might circle or underline the ideas or lines in the poem that feel the most charged or unique, and then spend some time pushing these ideas further on a new page. Finding these “hot spots” and drilling into them can help you find the poem inside the draft.

You might also consider coming up with a short list of strategies you can apply to a draft. You could choose from the list a la carte whenever you have a little time to spend with a draft, either by trying one. strategy at a time or by trying two or three in a single sitting or day.

There are a ton of revision strategies in Dear Writer, so maybe a few of them might jump out at you as ones to start with. One day you might look at just sentence length and structure, also reading aloud to hear the rhythm and variety. Another day you might look closely at word choices and test out some alternatives that might be more musical in the line (assonance, consonance, alliteration, etc.), more precise, or simply more unexpected. You could go in at another time and play with the sequence of events and/or images. But whatever you do, I hope you’ll frame it for yourself as more play than work, more experimenting than “fixing,” and I hope it will be a part of the process that you genuinely look forward to. I love to roll up my sleeves and try to get to know a piece better via revising (re-seeing) it.

The next question is from Sarah:

Thank you so much for this space. For someone who has had poems published in journals but never put together a chapbook or full-length collection, do you recommend creating a chapbook first?

Thanks for this, Sarah. I have published three chapbooks, but I published my first full-length book before I published my first chapbook. I don’t think of chapbooks as baby steps toward books, though I can see why they might be looked at in that way—they are shorter! I like to think of chapbooks as their own beasts. In my opinion, they work particularly well for brief collections of poems that are tightly linked, whether formally or thematically. A full-length book can be fairly wide-ranging, but chapbooks are often singularly obsessed, which I love.

That said, I want to be clear that if you do publish a chapbook first, the poems in that chapbook—all or some—can still be included in a full-length book later, if you want them to. It’s not one or the other. It’s up to you!

Bethany’s question about next steps dovetails nicely here:

Hello! I have a collection of poetry, organized somewhat in book form but am not sure where to go from here. Find an editor? Self-publish? What would you recommend as far as pursuing the path of publication?

Bethany, the path to publication for most poets in the United States can be a long one, since most first poetry collections are published via book contests and presses’ open reading periods. One does not need an agent to submit a manuscript directly to a press for a contest or during an open (i.e., unagented or unsolicited) reading period.

I’ll say upfront that I don’t have any experience with self-publishing, but that’s a valid route you can take if you wish! I can tell you about my experience, though. My first two books of poems, and all three of my chapbooks, were published vis contests. I sent the manuscript, along with the reading fee, to the presses directly and waited for the results. Most presses allow for simultaneous submissions, which means you can send the same manuscript to multiple contests/presses at the same time. The pro here is that you’re giving yourself more chances to have your manuscript selected for publication. The con, of course, is cost; paying a separate reading fee for each press can add up. If and when your book wins a prize or is selected by the press for publication, you have a choice to make: Accept their offer and promptly pull the manuscript from other contests and presses, or pass on their offer and see what happens with the other presses.

I advise doing your research on each press upfront—the quality of their books as physical objects, their distribution, their marketing and publicity reach—so that once an offer arrives, you can feel confident taking it. Look at the press’s books in bookstores or libraries. Check out their websites to see what you can learn about their catalogue, authors, and distribution channels. What is the press’s social media presence, and what do their posts communicate? Are the books available at indie bookstores and via online retailers? Are backlist books kept in print or are they quickly unavailable after an initial print run? If you can be in touch with an author or two, reach out with questions about their editorial and publishing experiences. Are their authors happy with the quality of the books and with the support they received from the press (marketing and publicity, social media, assistance with events, etc.)?

The majority of poets don’t have literary agents handling their submissions and contract negotiations unless they’re bestsellers and/or also publish prose. Why? Agents receive a percentage of your advances and royalties, monies that are hard to come by in poetry. For example, I didn’t have an agent until I was mulling over whether Keep Moving: Notes on Loss, Creativity, and Change might be my fourth book. Until then I’d submitted on my own. Did I need an agent to send out work before then? No. But now that I have my agent looking over my contracts and helping me make the best decisions about my work, I wish I’d had her working with me and advising me all along. Alas.

I hope this is useful, Bethany!

Polly asked about writer’s block:

How do you get comfortable with or trust writer's block to take you to a better place creatively?

It’s funny, Polly, but I don’t believe in writer’s block. I think that if I don’t have an idea that I want to pursue on a given day, that’s not a block, just a redirection. Some days are generative for me: ideas arrive, thank goodness, and I get down as much as I can. Other days are not, and instead of worrying about the ideas that aren’t arriving, I try to do other things in service of my writing: revise an old draft or two, or do someone research for a bigger project, or look into literary magazines I might want to submit to, or even just read or listen to music or watch a film. Everything we do feeds the work. I believe that.

The “block,” if you see it that way, might be a way to push you in a new direction. If X isn’t working, try Y. If Y stops being interesting to you, what about Z? Sometimes, too, what’s needed is some time to let an idea breathe, and perhaps even to let you have some time to “catch up” to the idea. Putting a draft away, then coming back to it with fresh wyes some time later (days, weeks, months), is one of the best strategies I know.

This last question today is from Nina:

Looking back at your time in the MFA program, what advice would you give to someone beginning their MFA journey? (I am beginning mine at Spalding in June!)

Nina, welcome to Spalding! As you know, I’m on the poetry faculty, so I’m thrilled you’re joining us.

To prepare yourself for an MFA, whether traditional or low-res, I think mindset is everything. Open yourself up to absorb as much as possible from your mentors and colleagues. That’s really it: Be open, be ready to work hard (and play hard, since this work is all about play!), and be prepared to be generous with your peers. Also: Don’t be afraid to ask plenty of questions. Chances are, if you’re wondering about something and if you need clarification, someone else is wondering and needs it, too.

What the MFA meant for me was three years of immersion and apprenticeship (at The Ohio State University, where the incredible Kathy Fagan directed my thesis, in my early 20s). I had three years to focus on craft, be in community with other writers, and be mentored by people who were invested in me as a writer and as a person. This is what I tell my MFA students: If you’re in the program to immerse and apprentice yourself, those are the right reasons.

Nina, go in confident that you’re ready, and be prepared to be changed—as a writer and as a person. I’m so excited for you, and I hope we’ll have the chance to work together.

Thank you all for the great questions. I’ll answer another batch soon! Take good care this weekend and always.

Happy writing—
Maggie