Hello there. My name is Zoe, and I'm a writer of poetry and fiction. I'll be sharing some of that with you here on this little blog about my writing life.
I am about to graduate from Marshall University, where I have been studying creative writing (but mostly literature) and learning to speak Japanese.
Someday I'd like to move to the Pacific Northwest.
What I'm Reading
Dear followers,
I have changed the URL of this blog to zoefayepoetry.tumblr.com. Please re-follow http://zoefaye.tumblr.com for all new posts, as I will no longer be posting on this blog. I want my writing things to be on my default account, so I have switched them back.
Sorry for any confusion.
Zoe
In two weeks I will be a college graduate.
And then I will have time for writing again.
Until then I will be slaving away on four papers, a couple of pointless science class assignments, and lots of Japanese worksheets.
We have talked about this idea (down to the exact detail) in my senior seminar English class, so when I saw this in my news feed, I felt I had to respond to it. Being one of 3 creative writing strand students in class, I was asked about how I “color my curtains.” I do think that some details can sneak subconsciously into a piece of writing. Maybe the author modeled the room after one of his own, a place he knew. And if it just so happens that the color of the curtains says “depression” to a reader, then all right. But I also think that details are most often carefully selected, depending on the situation. For example, if I am writing a poem, I choose images that will convey specific emotions or ideas. When you have little space in which to paint a clear picture of a character or an idea, you choose your details carefully. So the curtains may very well suggest something about the character’s feelings. We are also taught to practice presenting a story as vividly and yet concisely as possible. So it seems safe to assume that details provided in a story are significant in some way.
But this picture presents a very weak argument on both sides. First of all, it only talks about the curtains being blue. A good English teacher (or literary analyst of any kind) should not base their entire analysis of a character on one tiny detail such as curtain color. That is not really enough evidence to make a solid assertion about a character, because the color blue can mean different things to different people. You need other clues that point to the character’s feelings of depression. Those other clues probably do exist in the story, but the argument presented here seems to have left that information out. I’m not even sure what this example comes from, or if it’s even real at all.
Another problem with this picture is that it suggests thinking something about a story or poem is wrong. Close reading and literary analysis are usually what literature classes are about. There isn’t really anything wrong with the suggestion that the curtains being blue suggests feelings of depression, as long as you keep in mind that you are interpreting the details for yourself without really knowing the truth about them. This picture also assumes that it knows for sure what the author meant. Unless the author has said so, you don’t really know why the curtains were blue. You can only guess. That’s what literary analysis is for. Yes, it is true that some people can take tiny details and blow them up in an analysis, but I am under the impression that anything is up for consideration as long as you have enough convincing evidence to back up your argument.
Overall, this argument is very dismissive of both literary analysis and writing as an art form. Even if you are reading “for fun,” you should not be so quick to dismiss details that the author provides about a character or place in the story as just details.
(Source: callmecrayola)
I always seem to miss out on November as a national writing month. Whether it’s National Novel Writing Month or its poetry counterpart, I always remember a few days late, and so the venture always feels a little off somehow. Like I’ve missed out on something by starting a week late.
This year I will watch out for November; I will be ready on Day One. My goal is to collect enough poems for a book length work. Also, hopefully by participating in a month-long writing challenge, I will form those productive writing habits that seem to have gone missing, like a wayward sock on laundry day, ever since I stopped taking creative writing classes.
Who else is looking forward to November?
I was once in a creative writing course in which the teacher asked us to write a poem. Now, in my creative writing courses experience there are always certain limitations on our writings. No genre fiction, for example. That’s a popular one. But this time, my teacher said, “Do not write rhyming poetry.” When someone asked why, he explained that writing rhyming poetry is something that is hard to do well.
That is ridiculous, I thought to myself. How will we ever learn to write rhyming poetry well if we’re discouraged from trying it? I felt a bit indignant, because it almost seemed as though he was saying, I don’t expect that any of you have the skills to write rhyming poetry well.
I want to write all the time. However, when I do sit down to write I feel very stuck. Easily stuck. And I think that school is the problem. It’s not because school takes up all my time (which it does). It’s because it has me stuck in the frame of mind that everything I write has to be good. Good enough to show to a professor. Good enough for a grade. Good enough to send to a magazine.
I get stuck focusing on whether or not something will be good, rather than just letting it happen. You have to write in order to write something good, after all.
Things (for me) to keep in mind while staring at blank pages.
Last night, I finished reading the third installment in Carrie Ryan’s Forest of Hands and Teeth series. These books are beautiful. And terrifying. All at the same time. Carrie Ryan is an excellent writer. The characters are strong and defined; the narration is vivid. Each of these stories has something meaningful to say about life and living, family, and love. I wish people went crazy for stuff like this.
I discovered the title poem in one of the texts for a creative writing class I took last year. It lead me to pick up this collection, and I have been enjoying it. I can’t wait for the next one in October.
I’ve always liked the pantoum as a poetic form.
