In our Craft Capsule series, authors reveal the personal and particular ways they approach the art of writing. This is no. 236.
When I first put together my poetry collection, Scream / Queen, it was difficult to not get bogged down by my expectations about poetry. I diligently studied other books to see how writers crafted memorable bodies of work, but there was also an impulse to compare myself to these artists and their choices. The more I made myself mirror what worked for other poets, the less connected I felt to my manuscript.
I considered how stepping back from books as a medium would offer perspective. I challenged myself to listen to 150 albums to see what possibilities emerged beyond poetry. Exploring the techniques behind albums helped me see the unique challenges and opportunities of crafting a cohesive poetry project. Considering Scream / Queen as songs allowed me to fully consider the experience I wanted for my audience and how I might guide them there. I revised with the key lessons I’d gleaned from all these albums in mind. One of those takeaways was to seriously consider the first impression that my book gave in its first pages.
A collection’s first poem hooks the reader. Its job is to get someone to turn to the second page. Similarly, the albums that began with catchy ear worms—that came in with a strong beat or powerful melody—immediately kept me listening. Some great examples are “Saoko” off of Rosalía’s album Motomami—a moody, synth-heavy bop propelled by a classic reggaeton beat—and “Deep Stays Down,” which starts Larkin Poe’s Blood Harmony with a twangy guitar riff you’ll have trouble forgetting.
In addition, some introductory songs—those short instrumentals common in indie or experimental albums—established a mood and hinted at a buildup to come. It was enough to convince me to stay engaged, and when the next song delivered, it made me trust the artist. “Africa,” the swirling, orchestral opening to Zulu’s A New Tomorrow, is a moving overture that makes the band’s subsequent turn into hardcore punk even more impactful. Meanwhile, “Intro” from Towa Bird’s American Hero gives us a crescendo—an overdriven guitar swelling over applause to invoke a concert-going experience for listeners at its start.
While a strong start is crucial, the rest of the work must meet that same standard. I lost interest in albums that led with high-energy songs but fizzled out in the middle. If the moody instrumental opener was never built upon, the album felt incomplete. It was soon obvious when a project was unevenly ordered or lacked a clear vision.
The beginning of the book teaches us how to “read” the rest of the collection. These poems are guideposts to help readers proceed to what follows. When ordering your manuscript, what poem or suite of poems will allow us to proceed freely through the rest? Consider how you want readers to encounter particular poems and what prior knowledge they should have. What expectations do you want to establish?
If you feel lost or frustrated with your poetry manuscript, grab some headphones and settle in. The solution may lie in what you listen to next.
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: Jace Afsoon