How to Become a Professional Poet By Frank Wu. When I was in college, I heard an excellent lecture about writing poetry. I did not fancy myself a poet then nor now. I have less appreciation than most for rhyme. But I was enrolled in the writing program. A big name was coming to campus. If someone famous were presenting even in a field not compelling to me, it seemed important to check out what was happening — besides, I had friends who were committed to the notion that they could lead lives dedicated to an art. As is true in the biographies of virtually all of us, the events of youth make a more lasting impression than moments from maturity. The speaker offered an observation that has stayed with me. He was asked what type of person made the best poet. His answer went along these lines. He prefaced the substance by saying he was approached all the time by aspiring poets. Anyone who has made it their profession likely suffers the same encounters. According to him, there were two distinct characters who tried to write poetry. There were individuals who had emotions they wished to express. Then there were others who enjoyed playing with words. He said it was not the former but the latter who succeeded. As I recall it, and no doubt my memory offers me the lesson that serves my present life concerns, he explained that people with passions to communicate were preoccupied with their feelings; they were not necessarily enthusiastic about developing technical skill. The people who revel in language did not lack sentiments to share, but they were eager to figure out the techniques for doing so. Creativity and originality has to be paired with craft and perseverance. A free spirit who yearns to publish avant-garde verse might do well to study grammar and etymology, memorize classics from the canon, and complete crosswords. It isn’t the agony of adolescence but an ability with alliteration that portends a future in the sonnet or haiku. Imagination can be turned into anagrams, neologisms, puns, double entendres, and spoonerisms. The principle can be generalized. I would guess that the probability of making a living as a poet is comparable to making a living as an athlete. Over time, I have come to believe that in much of what we do we have it all wrong. Even to make a name for oneself in occupations without long odds, the significant criteria are not what we suppose. In teaching, for example, I have concluded that above the required baseline there isn’t great correlation between knowing more and teaching well — don’t misunderstand me, you cannot be ignorant of what you profess. Yet the great teachers need not possess the most information; what they have is an ability to transfer intelligence, stimulate interest, and encourage study. I am acquainted with a few experts in specialized subjects who disdain the idea that pedagogy itself is a domain requiring training to master. They are wrong. We should not mistake our ambitions with the means to achieve them. Motivation is necessary but not sufficient. Much must be done to be a poet or teacher. Frank Wu is the Chancellor & Dean, University of California Hastings College of the Law
Posted on: Tue, 02 Sep 2014 15:09:27 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015