Lather, rinse, repeat
Revision. For me, revision is the difference between journaling and writing. If the sudden rush of words in a first draft are all heat and fire, then revision is about shaping and forming like a glass-blower. As a much younger writer I resisted revising my poetry, so in love with the first words was I. I have always been a ruthless editor of my prose, but it took time to come around to editing poetry. I’m not sure why. Perhaps, as a younger writer, I bought into the romantic imagery of poems arriving in toto on the page, deposited there by some generous muse. Now and then a poem still comes to me that way, but they’re rare. These days I revise everything.
My initial drafts are almost always written in my notebook. I carry it everywhere, either tucked into the undercarriage of the stroller or slipped into my bag; I no longer buy purses or shoulder bags I can’t fit my notebook into. I might start off by jotting notes on an image or a memory or an idea I’ve been toying with. I make some false starts. There is much crossing out; circling of lines or entire sections and drawing of arrows to the place they really belong; insertion of little asterics and fresh lines jotted at the bottom of the page. I wish I could scan a page from my notebook to show you what a mess the first round is. Eventually it becomes so chaotic that I have to copy it out again; at this point I generally type it up and print it out. The next round of revisions is also done by hand, on the printed page. When that page becomes too cramped to continue I type up the revised poem and print it out again. I do this as many times as I need to. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I’ll spare you all the intermediary iterations of this poem - I’m not sure I could reconstruct them anyway - and just show you the first full draft and the current one. The first draft isn’t even really the first draft, as my notebook shows several false starts on this; some lines from those attempts did survive, though, and the moment behind the poem was there from the start. As for the current draft, I don’t think it’s the last draft but I do think it’s almost the last draft. For now.
Draft One: (I have four alternate titles on the first draft) Leaping? Swift Current Lake? Exaltation? Bound? (I have taken the liberty of fixing all the misspelled words I scattered along the way)
The only way to do it was to run
one two three four
down the short dock
where the canoes tied up
and close my eyes
when the air brushed the soles of my feet.
You’d gone ahead
(you always did)
shouting in blue lipped exaltation
and surfaced to shake your hair like a sheep dog
(you wore it long that year
like the boys did back then
with a courduroy jacket for school picture day)
I was the girl who eased into even indorr swimming pools
little toe top shin knobby knee skinny thigh
breaking out in goose flesh and rattling teeth
while you bounded off the board
getting it over with
and I took little steps, bound foot steps
tasting every degree.
But even I knew that there
under a feeble late summer Montana sun
the only way to do it was to run
one two three four
down the short dock
where the canoes tied up
and to close my eyes when the air brushed the soles of my feet.
Here’s the current draft:
Bound
The only way to do it was to run
one two three four
down the short dock where the canoes tied up
and to close my eyes
when the air licked the soles of my feet.
You’d taken flight ahead of me
(you always did),
surfaced to shake your hair like the stray dog
who’d claimed us the day before
and to shout in blue-lipped exaltation.
I was the girl who eased into indoor swimming pools
toe shin knee thigh
breaking out in goose flesh and rattling teeth.
You got it over with,
bounding off the high board.
But even I knew that here,
Montana in the fall,
the only way to do it was to run
one two three four
and then to surface shouting in blue-lipped exaltation.
#
Peek at more revisions here.
Filed under From my notebook, Poetry |
7 Responses to “Lather, rinse, repeat”
Leave a Reply
Much tighter in the revision… breaking up into verses makes it much easier to read somehow, and makes the repetition stand out more. I particularly liked the condensation of the toe shin knee thigh line - brings it into rhythm with the one two three four.
If I were to be critical, I’d say two blue-lipped exaltations is a bit much… but overall a really great read.
Well this may not make me popular but I prefer the first version…..it flows beautifully and for me is more emotive, though both are strong writes. I think the contrast between the two is highlighted better in a solid piece rather than broken up. (ps I do like stray dog and licked the soles of my feet better though.)
This is a good poem in both versions. There are aspects of the second that help its intention (as I see it of course). The punctuation and condensation of images help the sense of movement and “exaltation.” It’s more direct. These aspects give direction and focus to the final “But even I knew that here…” That sense of knowing is stronger in the second version and the whole poem is leading up to this moment.
I like the tightness of the second but I miss the long hair image you created in the first. I got goosebumps just reading it!
Well this is very interesting - I guess it goes to the point January made in her article on revision that there can be too much revision. The balancing act of tightening the poem without revising the initial passion out of it. Then again, it also just goes to the question of taste and preferences.
I remember making a conscious decision to introduce stanzas into the revision to gain some control over the previous drafts which I felt slithered a bit out of control, blurry around the edges.
I like both, and fully enjoyed reading each. However, while I found the second to be an interesting edit — I love your original. I find the second to be quite tasty, but the first — I find to be sumptuous.
I found the fleshed-out flashbacks of the first brought a deeper personalization to the relationship of the two friends — and I really liked the unbroken form. The unspoiled continuity gave me the sense of running, non-stop down the dock, to leap into the cold water.
You have two fine poems here — IMHO…
I really like the long story in the first, the second is tighter and normally I would always prefer more concise to less so but part of me does the prefer the first version of this, though i ove the ending of the second and for me blue lipped exaltation is brilliant,