[W.F. Lantry]

Originally Posted by John Whitworth

And I think that those who think about the process of writing tend to stop doing it.

I wonder about this. Forget whatever post on another board started this thread, forget the cited author's scandal. Those may be red herrings.

But on process itself: I get asked about process all the time. I've got an essay about to come out on exactly this question. And I get criticized for my process all the time. People are very interested in the question of process. Look at the Paris Review interviews: almost all of them ask about process.

There are edited books where six versions of the same poem are printed consecutively, with facsimiles of lines being crossed out and rewritten, in the author's own hand, alongside with reproductions of the author's notebooks. If no one cared about process, we wouldn't have those. Many of those are from the 19th century, but even now we have a web-series called "how a poem happens." Some pretty decent poets have participated.

I've even heard people say that a poem is a record of the process that went into writing it. It's an honorable position, just as honorable, and perhaps slightly more honest, than seeing a poem as only a finished object.

So yes, the author of the pseudo-science book on 'creativity' crashed and burned, his face forever a mask of shame. And I haven't seen the thread referenced above. But if we pose the question differently, I actually think the process of writing interests all of us. We just have trouble coming up with good answers. At least, I know I do...

Best,

Bill

[sericmarr]

Thanks, David and W.F., for your responses. Very much appreciated.

seric

[Chris Childers]

Process is valuable and interesting insofar as it leads to an excellent product. It's the quality of the product that interests us in the process.

C

[Janice D. Soderling]

Of course writing as a process is important, otherwise nothing would ever get written. But IN A WORKSHOP THREAD focusing on writing as a process instead of focusing on the product is counterproductive to the intent and purpose of the forum.

That is the question that triggered this thread. Do the workshop forums exist for the product of the writing process or do any old jottings earn a place in a forum?

But here, in a conversation thread, we can talk about it till the cows come home. Talking about creativity won't make anybody more creative, any more than blue walls and incense candles will.

And Bill, your sharing your insights is a good thing, and I'm sure many will be curious to know how your process differs from theirs. I'm sure I'd find it interesting to know how you tick, but would I tick better once I know how you do? I doubt it.

I have, over the years, acquired a stack of completely worthless how-to-write books. They were forced on me for various writing courses I've participated in, some at the university level, alas.

There is so much crap in them, you wouldn't believe it. Some people believe the preliminaries and process is what writing is about.

Viz. The importance of organizing your day: get a babysitter, ask your husband to take care of the kids on Saturday afternoon. Ask your wife to keep the kids from disturbing you for just a few hours on Sunday morning. Sharpen all your pencils before you begin. Arrange a comfortable and stimulating environment. Draw the curtains so you aren't distracted. Set goals. Just start writing and don't stop until the time is up. Don't censor what you write. What you are doing is the real McCoy. Don't let anybody tell you different. Believe in yourself.

One book has a zen approach, another has an ego-boosting approach, another a serendipity approach. Lots of pages on preliminaries and self-confidence and process, ah, the creative process, and it's all good. People dedicated to these books are the people who populate the vanity sites where every little fart gets applause.

That isn't what the Sphere is about. The Sphere (read the guidelines) is for people who aren't beginners or eternal dilettantes. It is about serious writing, self-improvement, peer review. We don't all write alike or think alike and that isn't a condition. The ceiling is high and always has been.

But shoddiness, sloppiness, carelessness, and whining will get short shrift.

I will probably regret writing this. De rien.

[W.F. Lantry]

Originally Posted by Janice D. Soderling

And Bill, your sharing your insights is a good thing, and I'm sure many will be curious to know how your process differs from theirs. I'm sure I'd find it interesting to know how you tick, but would I tick better once I know how you do? I doubt it.

Not how *I* do it. That's not interesting in itself. The sample is small, the narrator unreliable. And there's no certainty of practical application in another context.

And you're right to say most of those books you cite are mostly useless. There don't seem to be pragmatic formulas, or to put it in the language of Kung Fu Panda, "There is no secret ingredient."

On the other hand, some serious research has been done on the subject. Actual scientists have interviewed large numbers of people from various fields, and looked for commonalities. It's not new, here's one that began nearly forty years ago. I find the terms they used unfortunate, but I've understood my own process better since I started looking into those studies. In other words, yes, I found it useful, more useful than any book of writing advice I've ever seen.

Do I "tick" better now than I did before seeing that? Yes, I think I do, but of course that's not for me to decide. Is it more helpful than seeing the finished products of other writers? First, it's not an either/or question, I find both helpful. Second, I distrust argument from analogy, but all I have is metaphor. And my best metaphor comes from the complex art of woodworking.

I can look at a finished piece of furniture, or twenty of them, until the cows come home. Yes, I learn from them. But I learn just as much, maybe more, from watching another woodworker in the shop. There are a thousand techniques that go into the making of each piece. The guilds used to call these arts & mysteries, and kept them secret. They take years to learn: most people say it takes about 10,000 hours of training.

Does anyone really believe writing is less complex than woodworking, that the arts & mysteries of our processes are less intricate?

I really see this question as a three fold issue, involving process, product, and theory. There has to be a balance. But to deny any one of these three, to depreciate one of them, upsets that balance. And to deny two of them, and focus only on product, as is so often suggested, diminishes the field and our understanding of poetry.

Best,

Bill

[Janice D. Soderling]

Bill, I love peeking under the covers (theory) as much as the next guy, but what I am trying to say is that (IMO, duh) theory isn't the place to start. And: theory will not turn a bad writer into a good one. My point however remains that the workshop forums are for (quoting the guidelines).

Eratosphere caters to writers and artists who want to improve their own work, to help others in that process, and to exchange useful information. We try to maintain high standards of craft. As a posting venue, Eratosphere is not suitable for most beginners or for those who mainly seek mutual support and praise.

My emphasis.

That means, succintly put, that slapdash writing is NOT excused because it is part of a process. That is what this thread really is about and that is where the discussion focus should remain. IMO. Duh again.

I remember a remark made by Tony Grooms at a university seminar when he got the question about what further courses he recommended. http://www.thelundian.com/Vol118-134.pdf (note: I wasn't the proofreader )
He sighed and said that too many people go from one creative writing course to another as an excuse for not knuckling to do it. It's a similar pitfall to niggle over the process instead of attempting to create a worthy product.

I have a fun book which I bought only because Don Paterson was co-editor (with Clare Brown) in which a couple hundred UK writers penned short essays on their poetry. These are historic documents written when each had a book recommended by PBS the Poetry Book Society. It is a delightful 333 pages and a fun read titled "Don't Ask Me What I Mean". In short, these poets have all written essays saying, in effect, "I haven't the faintest idea how I do it or what it is about."

And yet it moves.

[John Riley]

I remember reading that someone--I can't remember who, but it may have been Hemingway--couldn't start writing until he had ten sharpened pencils lined up on his desk. Is that a process?

[Angela France]

Originally Posted by John Riley

I remember reading that someone--I can't remember who, but it may have been Hemingway--couldn't start writing until he had ten sharpened pencils lined up on his desk. Is that a process?

No, it's a ritual.
However, as a ritual it may have been an important trigger to his attaining the right mind set.

There seem to be different uses of the term process in this thread, which isn't helping. Technique, the space we write in, getting a babysitter, the ability to hear meter, are all tools that may help our process but I consider *creative* process to be entirely when goes on in the mind. An early draft isn't process - though it may well be an essential tool in some writers' process - I consider an early draft to be incomplete product.

I am very interested in creative process, I have studied some of the theories (and it didn't stop me writing). I find it helps to understand my own processes - it helps when I am stretching out of my comfort zone and it helps me to work out what's going wrong when I can't write. And, to disagree with a comment up thread, talking about creativity does make people more creative. This has been shown in research projects about creativity - what stifles it, what stimulates it. If you're interested in this sort of theory, Amabile's 'Creativity in Context' is the best overview of research in the area.
I'm familiar with the book Bill cites but - although I find some very useful and enlightening parts - Csíkszentmihályi doesn't go far enough for my taste. My favourite work in the field is Koestler's 'The Act of Creation' which really resonated with me.

While this sort of discussion doesn't easily fit in a poetry workshop thread, I do think it is important (for me, anyway) to understand something about creativity in order to grow as a poet and I do believe it has a place in any serious gathering of poets.

[Jan D. Hodge]

As Yeats wrote in "Adam's Curse": "A line will take us hours maybe; / Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, / Our stitching and unstitching has been naught."

That in a nutshell is process vs. product. One might argue that they are one and the same, simply viewed from opposite directions. Writers enact a process leading to the product; critics, scholars, and serious readers often reverse this, tracing product back through process, seeing, e.g., how the "inevitable" became inevitable (thirteen ms. versions of the concluding line of Yeats's "Leda and the Swan," nineteen or so ms. drafts of Bishop's "One Art," etc.).

But the poet plays (or perhaps I should say, with deference to those who hold to divine inspiration or automatic writing, "usually plays") both roles simultaneously. "This is roughly what I feel or want to say; how can I say it most effectively? Is that the 'right' word? Can rhythm or meter be used to better create, emphasize, reinforce meaning? Is this alliteration too distracting, that syntax too awkward or obscure? Is this metaphor trite? Can I get more out of it, make it work better?" And of course the poem can take on a direction, a "life," of its own, unanticipated by the poet; it can "grow out of itself" (organic form?), one thought or word or feeling suggesting another, just as it can "build" in accordance with the dictates of its structure--rhyme, meter, line length, stanza form, sound, etc. (mechanic form?). In the best writing, probably "organic" and "mechanic" are as inextricable as form and content.

We can certainly learn from studying process: how to avoid a certain clumsiness, how to address problems of syntax, how to make language more lively (or at least that one should do so), when and how to break the "rules," how to handle a range of diction and tone, etc. It can show us that writing isn't always easy, that even the best writers often stumble (but learn how to correct or overcome stumbles). As a dear friend and fine poet argued, the only honest stance toward poetry is humility.

But whether greater proficiency translates to greater creativity is another question. As Flannery O'Connor wrote more than half a century ago [her focus is on short stories, but the remarks seem equally applicable to poetry]:
. . . . . . .In the last twenty years the colleges have been emphasizing creative writing to such
. . . . . . .an extent that you almost feel that any idiot with a nickel's worth of talent can
. . . . . . .emerge from a writing class able to write a competent story. In fact, so many
. . . . . . .people can now write competent stories that the short story as a medium is in
. . . . . . .danger of dying of competence. We want competence, but competence by
. . . . . . .itself is deadly. What is needed is the vision to go with it, and you do not
. . . . . . .get this from a writing class.


Jan