Seattle 165, or Dive

Guess what? I'm writing a book! For real this time. Not that my first book wasn't real, but let's be honest: it was a collection of the Very Best Poems I Ever Wrote. Not exactly cohesive, unless you know me.

But this book? It's a Real Book. It's still poems, but it's a STORY. Told in POEMS. Not like an epic, but like a novel. I mean, I think it's pretty epic. But Joseph Campbell would vehemently disagree, so I'll stick to novel.

Anyway, some of you have seen some of the poems in this novel - I started writing it when I was doing 365/365 last year. They're the Raizl/Rachel poems, about the Polish woman who fights with the Resistance during the war, and then gets married to an American GI and basically discovers over the course of her life that a) the war never leaves, and b) it's okay to trust people again.

I decided to invest a lot in this book by hiring an editor - a writer I respect and admire (and has some 50+ books to her credit), who has quickly started identifying many bad writing habits I have. She's basically done the literary equivalent of painting my fingernails with hot sauce - every time I start to write a poem, she snaps in my head, "Oh, watch your first stanzas, will you?! They're always so expository, and you really don't need them."

But truthfully, I'm thrilled. After taking the manuscript as far as I thought I could go by myself, her commentary has invigorated me. I've already rewritten a quarter of the poems, and I can feel myself striding through them with more confidence, and a clearer sense of what I want to say. I've changed things I was afraid to change and I'm even on the verge of deleting a character and merging her with another one (eek!).

Basically, after a few months of post-tour lagging and blues, I've picked up again. I'm writing with a much greater sense of purpose, I'm inviting people over for dinner again, and I've stopped feeling (for now) like I completely suck at being a grownup. I even feel a bit like a real writer.

The only problem? This book has completely eaten my desire to slam and compete, and I'm registered for a major competition in October. I know it's important that I keep going to national slams - they are a vital, necessary way I connect with my community - but right now, my head is somewhere else. Poland. Westchester. Forhenwald DP Camp. Oberlangen POW Camp. And inside the heads of some fascinating, smart, bitter people.

I'm writing a book! It sneaks up on me every so often, like really good news. I'm writing a book!