Welcome Angele!
WRITING PROCESS BLOG TOUR / Angele Ellis
Alf shukran (a
thousand thanks) to poet and blogger Carol Berg for inviting me to join the
Writing Process Blog Tour, as well as for posting my answers on her blog.
For more writing process goodness, check out
writer-superlibrarian Leigh Anne Focareta’s blog, Be Less Amazing <belessamazing.wordpress.com>
and poet-visual artist Jill Khoury’s new blog <www.jillkhoury.com/blog/>
As usual, I have several projects
going at once. I’m revising a dystopian YA (young adult) short story after
receiving suggestions from an editor—and this may be the germ of a novel. I’m
also retooling my new poetry chapbook manuscript (working title, “Departing
Chameleon,” which is fitting, as it continues to change) for another round of
submissions. My “family” Arab American novel, Desert Storms (several chapters/excerpts of which have been
published) is hanging fire…I must finish a draft this year. I’ve been doing
poetry reviews for Weave Magazine,
and I hope this will continue. I still take on freelance editing assignments…and
I’m meeting with a neighbor who’s opening an arts and crafts shop about a
saleable literary idea.
As I work in several genres, I’m
thinking about some common differences (preoccupations, obsessions) that
influence my work. I was weaned on Victorian and Modernist poets, whose work my
mother recited to me; I know a number of these poems by heart myself. An early
reader, I devoured every form of fairy tale and folk tale I could find, along
with classic children’s novels and biographies of distinguished women (there
weren’t many then!). By the age of ten and eleven I had moved on to Lewis
Carroll, Shakespeare (both sonnets and plays), Dickens, Maugham. The film
version of Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451
had a profound impact on me (along with other movies, from classics to cheesy
science fiction), although I didn’t read him until high school, along with such
writers as Emily Dickinson, Katherine Anne Porter, Rainer Maria Rilke, Theodore
Roethke, Chekhov, Dostoyevsky—and Mahmoud Darwish’s “A Lover from Palestine.”
By the time I was in college, writers inspired by/claimed by second wave
feminism had made inroads into the canon—Doris Lessing, Sylvia Plath, Marge
Piercy, Virginia Woolf, Kate Chopin, Adrienne Rich, and Judy Grahn, to name a
few.
So history and politics are
important to me as a writer. (I was heavily involved in the peace and justice
movement during the mid-1980s to mid-1990s, and since 9/11, I have actively
embraced my Arab American identity and the stories it leads me to tell.)
Stylistically, I am more traditional than experimental—I love narrative
(however fantastical), form (including sonnets, ghazals, pantoums, haiku, and
haibun), meter, rhyme, and the connection rather than the disassociation of
themes and images.
Having ventured into this answer
in Question 2, my simple retort is compulsion.
This can work well, when I’m in a fever to get something done—or badly,
when my “teeming brain” is pulled in multiple directions, and only fragments of
different pieces seem to emerge. But nothing is wasted—like matter, my writing
is transformed (sometimes), rather than destroyed.
I have to write something daily—even
if it’s only “finger exercises,” as I call the birthday and other occasional
poems I compose and post for Facebook friends (and for other friends and family). Fueled by Earl Grey tea, I work well under
deadline, although I’m better with deadlines imposed by others—editors,
clients, colleagues, contests—than with those I impose on myself. Once a night
owl, I now find myself more productive in the mornings—unless I’m under
deadline or obsessed.
Other than that, my process is
haphazard. The only time I felt I was really smoking was when I had the privilege
of spending four weeks at a writer’s retreat in Costa Rica, courtesy of a
fellowship from the Pennsylvania Council on the Arts. Cut off from regular
responsibilities, I drafted thirty poems—thirteen of which have been published
in revised form—and six loosely connected short stories, four of which have
been published in revised form. But like most people, I couldn’t live like that
forever—and after four weeks, I didn’t want to (and I couldn’t keep up the
pace, because of my chronic health problems). The trick I haven’t mastered is
how to transfer more of that discipline into the everyday.
No comments:
Post a Comment