A workshop and a snow storm!

writing through the cold

Hello!

It's been freezing in Kansas City, so life has been very small this week - lots of time inside, cozy meals, movies, reading...

The big thing I did this week was teach a poetry workshop. It was Wednesday night, right before the big cold came in. It was in the conference room of my favorite local coffee shop (the place has so many events and so many different spaces and is so strange in such a lovely way)! I talked about some of the things I talk about here - how to find poetry in the everyday, how to take small moments and use them to say something more or something bigger or just something pretty. It was so much fun! And all the people who came were very generous in the sense that they read the example poems I brought with me out loud and talked about some of their favorite lines and then shared their own work! We talked about a poem, I gave a prompt, we wrote, we shared our work, and then we repeated the process. It was such a good night!

I didn't write any poetry outside of the workshop this week - which is fine! I wrote three poems during the time there! They're not perfect because they were scribbled in a notebook in approximately 15 minutes, but I like them, and I think I'll work with them and edit them as the days go on. So, that in itself felt like enough!

I also read two books this week - first, a short story collection I didn't end up resonating with very much. I thought the writing style was great and was interested in the themes but ultimately came away feeling a bit unsatisfied with the plotlines of most stories. So, I went tumbling into a new book, Other People's Clothes by Calla Henkel. This was a bit more thriller-esque than novels I'm usually drawn to, but at its core, it was still about messy young women making messy choices. It wasn't my favorite story I've ever read, but I thought it was done well and had pretty descriptions and interesting, dynamic characters. It was nice to spend so much time in other people's little worlds.

The rest of my free time was spent working away at my novel. I decided to change the location of a twenty-page scene this week and switch up some of the things that happen in the scene, so it's been a weird little project. It's moving forward. I'm already a good chunk of the way through what is technically the third draft but feels more like draft 2.5 - because I'm too much of a perfectionist about the whole thing and can't just let a draft be finished. But! I think I'm going to let a few people read the whole thing soon and get some notes back and be on to the next phase of this whole project. This is scary and weird but so exciting! I wrote a novel!

There isn't much else new around here - the temperature is in the negatives and only so much can happen in the space of a 2-bedroom apartment! Sometimes we go down to the apartment lobby to use the free coffee machine! Then we come back and read more and look outside at the snow. We've colored a lot and Adam has built some Legos. We watched Saltburn! And Jake Johnson's Self Reliance! And started some weird reality murder-mystery style show Adam wanted to watch - I only agreed to tag along in the watching because it takes place in a castle in Scotland.

Hopefully, the weather will get warmer soon!

Anyway, here's one of the poems I wrote in the workshop. It started with a prompt I wrote that started with a simple question and then expanded into a bunch of other related questions that dug a bit deeper. A draft:

UNBOXED EVERYTHING AGAIN

When I wear the sweater 
with the embroidered lines
that we bought at the flea market
a few months after we moved
to Kansas City, with no real plan,
after the long drives,
and too much time with your parents,
after we unboxed everything again,
I wonder when I lost myself.
When we paid for the sweater,
I handed you my phone to complete
the transaction and played with the ring
placed on my middle finger,
swirled it in slow circles and stared
at other racks of clothes
as you talked and with the man
who wrapped my sweater in tissue paper.
When did I stop doing things
like ordering my own lunch?
We usually pick two things and you
say: "we'll have..."
I ask myself things like: what
am I becoming?
And: is it bad to rely on someone?
I used to think so, but maybe
there is a kindness in trust,
how it fades like an old pair of jeans
creased at the thigh
and ripped a bit at the edge 
in a way my grandma would question,
would point to and say:
"you paid for that?"
as I sit down at the movie theater.
I try to tell you the story, but
you've already heard it.
You don't tell me, but I can see
the recognition in your chin
and the way it ducks a little because
I know you, too.
I say it like a battle call
but you never question my motives.