Blog 24: How to Be Your Own Poetry Editor

So, you’ve perfectly crafted and written a poem, or so you think, and now you’re wondering what the next step is. Unfortunately, it shouldn’t be searching for a place to publish your work. Instead, you should do the complete opposite and hide your poem away from yourself. It could be for a week, two weeks, a month, six months, just however long you see fit. Lock it away in one of those money boxes with a timer if you really need to. The first step to becoming your own editor is ignoring your own writing. A cool-off period allows you to come back with a fresh pair of eyes that aren’t strained from hours of developing extended metaphors and tediously counting syllables. It prevents us from obsessing over our emotional attachment to our work and instead allows us to critique our work in a more objective manner.

I’m going to hit you with a clichéd analogy, and before you think it, yes, I know the cliché is the enemy of a good poet, but just bear with me for the sake of simplicity. Think of your first draft as a butterfly egg; it’s the beginning of life, the birth of ideas and creativity. The cool-off period is the caterpillar. The caterpillar eats to nourish its growing body, and the poet continues to absorb their surroundings and develop their influences, whether consciously or subconsciously, to refresh and nourish their creativity. The redrafting process is the cocoon; it’s often a long, boring process, but also imperative for the completion of creation. While the caterpillar develops slowly into a butterfly, the poet cultivates their initial ideas into a piece of work that is consistent, grammatically correct, and most important (in my humble opinion), authentic. The final part of the process is, of course, the emergence of the butterfly, or for the poet, the completion of their final draft that is now ready for publication.

Maybe it’s coincidental that myself and every single poet I have ever known are slightly (or extremely) neurotic when it comes to their poetry, or maybe it just comes with the territory of bearing your soul in pretty little condensed packages to strangers. Perfection is often at the forefront of our minds as writers, but don’t let that make you believe that your first draft is either (a) already perfect or (b) awful. Personally, I fluctuate between deep rooted insecurity and hatred of my work, and feelings of grandiose like I’m the next Pulitzer Prize winner (I mean, maybe one day, right? A bit of delusion can be a fabulous prompt!), but I guess that depends on whether or not writer’s block is kicking my ass, which just so happens to be a good 99% of the time.

So, you’ve taken some time away from your poem. Now what? Well, unfortunately, the next step isn’t as interesting as the initial creative outlet. The dreaded redrafting (and redrafting and redrafting if you’re as paranoid as the likes of myself) process can be rather daunting when deciding how or where to start editing your work, especially when you don’t have an outside perspective or knowledgeable guidance. But don’t worry, because I’ve put together a list of things to analyse and questions to become your own editor.

I don’t necessarily have a set order when it comes to my personal editing checklist. It is still a part of the creative process, and creativity isn’t often linear, so neither should editing have to be. However, if there was one thing that I would put in first place, it would be:

• Become the reader – Difficult, I know, but trying to approach your work from an outside perspective can allow you to internalise and question the overall cohesiveness of your poem. Ask yourself, what is the content of the poem, and why have I chosen to write about this specifically? Would I understand the content if I didn’t write this? If I lost all my memories and forgot who I was, would I know what I was trying to say? Is the intention clear enough? Is my voice concise? Are the form and content complementary? Make sure you read your poem out loud to ensure that its rhythm is harmonious with the desired form, intention, theme, and response. Read it and critique it as if you were reading the work of another poet.

• The voice and desired audience – Who is the speaker, and why are they speaking? What is their perception, and why? Are they speaking from a first-person or limited point of view? Or a third person, therefore a less restricted point of view? What is the speaker’s tone or attitude to the reader, and why? Who is the speaker talking to? Who is their desired audience and why?

• Figurative language – What figurative language have you utilised and how have you employed it? why? Does the descriptive language evoke imagery or sense-impressions? Is it clear? Is it clichéd, or are there too many abstract nouns? Are your metaphors too vague? Is the imagery fully fleshed out and well-defined enough for the reader to envision it? Is there a balance between showing and telling?

• Form – How have you formatted your poem and why? Have you used a fixed form with a restrictive structure, rhythm, rhyme or metre? Or have you used an open form with irregular lines and stanzas? And what effect does this formatting have on the content, voice or reader? How have you formed the shape of the poem? Have you considered the white space? Have you utilised line endings and stanza breaks with a specific intention in mind? How does this affect the rhythm and flow of the poem? Are you placing an emphasis on the final word of each line for the reader to reflect on?

• Spelling, grammar and punctuation – Is your spelling correct? If not, why? Have you used colloquial spelling and why? Is your grammar consistent? Have you inverted the grammar to adopt an archaic tone, and what effect does this unexpected or unusual emphasis have? Have you used too many superfluous or unnecessary words? Have you used the appropriate punctuation, and has it been used in the right places? Have you even used punctuation at all? And if not, why? How does a lack of punctuation influence the voice?

• Narrative or lyric? – Does your poem tell a story? Is there a clear narrative? Is this narrative linear or not, and why? Or is it referencing a specific period or true story, and is this made obvious to the reader? Do you have the facts if necessary? Is it a dramatic poem, and is the enactment accurate or authentic? Is a narrative even needed? Or is it a lyric poem? Have you focused on expressing personal emotion without narrative, and why? What is the difference in effect?

  
  

The redrafting process is basically a self-interrogation where you question and analyse the interconnectedness of both the content and form. It is imperative that after every question you have asked yourself, you also ask why. Why have I done it in this way? For what reason? This way you get a deeper understanding of your own creative process, whilst evolving the authenticity of your own personal voice and style. A little bit of objectivity is the key to mastering the subjective form of poetry. The irony, right?