A Writer's Notebook, Day Three-Hundred-And-Sixty-Six

Today is one of those days when I am not entirely certain about the poems I am writing.  It happens often enough that a part of me is able to easily dismiss the feeling, at least in a rational sense.  I know that these are drafts, that they can certainly be reshaped through the process of editing and revision.  Most poems do not start out as masterpieces; many of the greatest poets I know have drafts and notes preserved, showing just how much work they required in order to achieve the results that made their writing so incredible.  I know I cannot expect the pieces I push out to come already in a state of perfection.

As well, I have had a number of occasions when I showed poems that I felt this way about to others and had them respond far more favorably than I might have expected.  Being the writer, I am often so close to the work, with such a clear vision of what I did not achieve in terms of my intent, that I cannot see what is actually there.  I am not, as I have said before, the best one to judge my own work much of the time.

Beyond that, I have the good fortune of being in a position where a few poems that don't work are not a big deal.  I know that even in writing a poem that may never be something I would even think of publishing, I am still doing important work that propels me forward as a writer.  Writing is a way of learning to write, and often one learns as much or more from failure as from success, so a poem that does not work isn't a wasted exercise.  It is a lesson, one that can guide me on in mastering this craft.

Yet, still, I cannot help but feel pulled down when these days come. That is probably to be expected, and may even be, in the end, a positive.  Often such days as this will make me consider what it is that I want to put into my poems that is missing right now, and while I may not be able to conjure up those results immediately on demand, the intent does percolate.  As well, it makes me consider the kind of poet I want to be, the things that I really am seeking to bring to my work. 

As well, there is another aspect to these days that is, in the end, very positive for me, and that is the awareness that, even feeling like this, when I am not overly inspired and the resulting poems aren't what I really want, I feel a great pride in the work.  Not the results of it, but the work itself.  It is far easier to keep going when things feel great, but to keep at it on days like this, well, that means a lot more to me, because when I am done with my writing for the day, I can look back knowing that the work is always possible, even if it feels like there is nothing waiting to be written.  If I sit down and wait, it will always happen.