| Author | Message | ||
| ~M~
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 31680 Registered: 11-1998 |
From The Poetry Home Repair Manual by Ted Kooser: "You're talking to somebody who says, "Those were the good old days," and you ask, "So, what was so good about them?" and they say, "Well, I don't know . . . I guess we had a lot of fun." And you say, "What kind of fun?" and they say, "Oh, you know, family picnics and holidays." And you say, "Give me an example of something fun that happened at a family picnic," and they say, "Well, OK . . . I remember one time when my Aunt Mae used termite powder in a layer cake, thinking it was sugar." At that point, the conversation begins to get interesting. In conversation and in our writing we tend to generalize, to summarize, to say things like "Those were the good old days," but as writers, if we want to engage our listeners and readers, we need to shake off generalizations and go for the specifics. It's the details that make experiences unique and compelling. It's watching one particular old woman in a cardigan sweater burn wallpaper in a barrel, pushing it down and down with a crowbar. After you've written each draft of your poem, take a look at it to see if your detailing is as good as it might be. Have you included the details that are unique to your experience?" Love, M | ||
| Fred Longworth
Senior Member Username: sandiegopoet Post Number: 4583 Registered: 05-2006 |
Sadly, Uncle Festus and my cousin Billy ate the layer cake. Festus went into convulsions, and Billy's body went rigid. This was before cell phones. There wasn't a phone booth at the park. Dad got in his T-Bird and raced down to Addison's Drugs to use the pay phone outside on the sidewalk. Unfortunately, Dad didn't have a dime, so he ran inside and asked Mr. Addison for a dime. Addison said that Dad owed him $50 on credit, so NO, he couldn't have a dime. Dad pulled out a five, asked for change. Addison took the money and said that he'd accept that as partial payment on the account. At that point Dad got furious, and grabbed Addison by the shirt, and shook the living daylights out of him. When Dad let him go, Addison called the police. Two officers came and arrested Dad. Dad kept screaming "We need an ambulance!" -- but nobody listened. I remember looking at my watch three time. Festus died at 2:13 in the afternoon, and Billy at 2: 26. An ambulance finally arrived at 3:10. | ||
| brenda morisse
Senior Member Username: moritric Post Number: 2513 Registered: 04-2007 |
Dearest M, mi hermana, Yes, I agree. Gereralities are like blurry photos. I mean, how big was Uncle Frankie's nose? Did Aunt Alice wear tube tops? What about Abelita Bonta? Is she reading the Racing Form again? Did I spend the day pouting in the corner or did I break into song with my swinging rendition of La Cucaracha ? It's the specifics that bring the poem to life. Thanks for remindng me. love, love, borrachita and her specificity | ||
| ~M~
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 31681 Registered: 11-1998 |
Now, see, Freddie. That's a whole lot better than just saying, "Aaaaah, these damn family picnics just ain't what they used to be when good ol' Aunt Mae was still alive. This one's a total snore." Dearest borrachita -- Uncle Frankie's nose was 9 and 3/4" long (I believe he was listed in the Guinness Book of World Records). Aunt Alice wore the tube top as a skirt, but no one noticed because they were too busy watching her boobs bob in the punch bowl. Abelita Bonita bet it all on the 50:1 longshot, "Doesn't Stand a Snowball's Chance in Hell" to win in the fourth, but he broke a leg right out of the starting gate. She never bet longer odds than 30:1 after that. After you sang La Cucaracha, we did the Mexican hat dance. However, I got really dizzy and had to take a siesta under the palm tree that dropped a coconut on my head. Needless to say, it was not a good day for me. But I think you won for "Most Likely to Have a Successful Career as a Striptease Artist in a Coconut Bra." All in all, it was a pretty good picnic, my trip to the emergency room notwithstanding, of course. Love, love, M | ||
| brenda morisse
Senior Member Username: moritric Post Number: 2514 Registered: 04-2007 |
Yes, dearest swinka, but even the trip to the emergenciy room had its perks. That's where I met my almost future husband and would have been called Mrs. Doctor. He proposed in between you and your broken crown, and the appendectomy behind curtain number 2. I told him I was too young for marriage but I knew how to sing La Cucarcha if he needed a translator. He was very impressed and promised to wait until I was eighteen and then we'd live happily ever after. I grew tired of him and his busy hands always wanting to operate on someone and his penchant for overtime. I left him for a long haired geology student, You know how I like to get dirty. But I'll always have soft spot on my head for a man with a shiney stethoscope plugged in his ears. love, love borrachita (Message edited by moritric on October 13, 2008) | ||
| Ros Badcoe (Rosemary)
Intermediate Member Username: endolith Post Number: 556 Registered: 03-2008 |
Can I have some of whatever you lot are drinking? |
