In our Craft Capsule series, authors reveal the personal and particular ways they approach the art of writing. This is no. 238.
My debut poetry collection, Scream / Queen, owes so much to the work of other poets whose books inspired me and taught me over the years I was writing it. At the same time, there came a point in my book’s journey when comparing it to other collections made me feel disconnected from the writing—like I was simply imitating other poets.
I took a step back from studying other poetry collections. Instead, I let myself find inspiration by exploring music albums as a medium with the potential to shape my manuscript. I listened to 150 albums and in doing so found new opportunities to make Scream / Queen a more dynamic book.
One of those takeaways was to seriously consider the first impression that my book elicited in its first pages. Another was to analyze the world-building of concept albums. Further insights arrived after intensely listening to music in languages I didn’t know, as well as music from genres I didn’t typically enjoy.
Poets operate on the outskirts of language to render ineffable feelings. Imagery and metaphor approximate what prose might not be able to say. As a result, poetry is often filled with contradiction, multiplicity, and interpretation, or as poet John Keats called it, negative capability.
A third of the 150 albums I listened to were in languages other than English. I wanted to find artists I might not encounter otherwise and highlight the subjective aspects of music. Without the lyrics to tell me, I had to interpret the instrumentals and vocal intonation to identify an overarching feeling. I had to accept that I might be wrong in my inference and that I might never know if I was right. The process was reminiscent of encountering a stirring yet opaque poem.
What is open for interpretation in your manuscript? A collection contains inherent mystery. Readers can accept this when they trust that the poet is leading them somewhere. While they might not fully see it, they can sense a place or emotion. Where are you asking readers to trust you? Where are you asking them to tread across the unknown or paradoxical? These moments should not be a distraction. They shouldn’t compel readers to doubt where you’re going.
The amount of trust our readers put into a poem to guide them can ultimately be a matter of personal preference or taste. For instance, a song might appeal to a particular audience based on the language its lyrics are in. Similarly, a poetry collection appeals to a particular audience. This appeal can be based on a collection’s themes or subjects, but also on the book’s poetic approach. Similarly, musical genres define different standards of musicality and song composition, and particular audiences respond to these conventions as fans.
I am not a fan of death metal. Still, I listened to albums from this genre during the challenge to venture outside my comfort zone. I didn’t become a metalhead, but I could identify the standards this music adhered to and its appeal. By contrast, I also came away with a better sense of my own musical taste.
What musical genre is your book closest to? Your collection defines what a poem is and what conventions you want to emphasize to readers. Can you identify the conventions you uphold across poems? Conversely, can you identify moments you challenge those conventions? Your manuscript will likely appeal to readers who hold comparable notions about poetry or your subjects: How do you challenge readers’ understanding of language or the subjects that you write about?
Other artistic mediums can provide unexpected guidance whenever we hit a creative wall in our writing. In these moments, take a break from the page, and let inspiration find you on your next playlist.
CD Eskilson is a trans nonbinary poet, editor, and translator. They are a recipient of the C.D. Wright / Academy of American Poets Prize, as well as a Best of the Net, Best New Poets, and Pushcart Prize nominee. Their debut poetry collection, Scream / Queen, is out now from Acre Books.
image credit: Pawel Czerwinski