I Got Some Shit on My Mind and I Think
About it for a Long Time
I’ve said this before and I’ll say it
again. I do not sit down to write every day. I don’t have set times or hours
for this. I have jobs, and no separate office space and a poet is rarely paid
to write, so I usually wait. Because no one is ever waiting on me to finish a
poem or a book.
But
before the writing, I’m mulling something over, an idea. I spend some time
living with it. I obsess. I consider what I’m really trying to do. Then one day
I need to push the idea out of my brain to prevent a tension headache. I open
my 12” laptop and I write. I never use paper anymore. I know it’s what a more
thoughtful person might do, but it slows me down and by the time I need to
write I need to get it out quickly before I forgot all the work from my mulling
and obsessing. I type quickly. I have tendonitis in my wrist from years of
shelving books. It hurts to write with a pen for too long. Gifted notebooks sit
unused in an IKEA storage box.
And
I write with an explosion, writing like I can’t stop throwing up and also I
have diarrhea at the same time. That is the kind of writing I’m doing. It’s
built up and I am putting it all into the document. I don’t care too much about
the shape, the form, the line breaks, the stanzas. I just gotta go hard. I am
leaving notes for myself so I don’t get tripped up and stop writing.
“PLEASE WRITE A JOKE HERE ABOUT A DOG”
“MAKE
THIS MORE INTERESTING AND GOOD”
“THIS IS WHERE A GOOD POET WOULD HAVE A TURN, YOU JACKASS”
“THIS IS WHERE A GOOD POET WOULD HAVE A TURN, YOU JACKASS”
Everything
is fast until it’s not. And I go back to thinking about the writing. Sometimes
I write a quick note or line in my phone for later. Then I copy and paste the
note or line into the document. I revise slowly. I work out what needs to
change. Often something really needed to be a prose poem all along. Or it didn’t
need to be a prose poem, but I rely on them so much that sometimes it’s the
only way to finish a draft.
And
then it’s slow. For a time. Going back in and out. Leaving more notes. It
grinds to a halt sometimes. But the energy from the original output is still
there. And I plod along. Until I finish the thing.
Dina Del Bucchia is a writer, podcaster, literary event host,
editor, creative writing instructor and otter and dress enthusiast living in
Vancouver on unceded territory of the Musqueam, Squamish
and Tsleil-Waututh people. She is the author of the short story
collection, Don’t Tell Me What to Do,
and four collections of poetry: Coping
with Emotions and Otters, Blind
Items, Rom Com, written with
Daniel Zomparelli, and, It’s a Big Deal!
She was a senior editor of Poetry Is Dead
magazine, is the Artistic Director of the Real Vancouver Writers’ Series and
hosts the podcast, Can’t Lit, with Jen Sookfong Lee. She is the co-creator and
co-host of Sound On InstaReadings.
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