Jamie's blog was about the process of revising her poem, which is also what my latest blog was about. Reading it, I discovered that she had a slightly different view of revising than I did. She said how valuable the revisions were for her and explained her thought process while revising.
"I agree that you sometimes have to be willing to let go of your original poem to make it better. For this poem, I think I didn't do a very good job of that and that is why my revisions aren't the greatest. For my next revision, I will have to try harder to take risks and sometimes even get rid of things that I think are good to make room for things that are great. I'm sure that these skills come with practice, so the fact that you had a lot of practice with excessive revising in junior high has probably helped you be a good reviser in high school. Hopefully, I will get to the point where I am willing to take risks and make drastic changes to improve my poem soon."
Emily's blog made a connection between King Lear and something she's very passionate about (the Bible). She talked about the similarities between King Lear and the story of the Lost Son. Though I hadn't read this story, I thought it was an interesting and valid connection.
"I liked your connection with the bible. I can see the many similarities between King Lear and the lost son story. I think a big difference that's important to note is whose fault the situation is. In King Lear, Cordelia, while she is being very stupid and short-sighted, is not really doing anything wrong. Rather, Lear is being childish and unreasonable. In the Lost Son, it is the other way around. I think the important similarity, though, and probably the main reason that this is a good connection is that both families reconcile and are reunited at the end of the story."
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Metacognition: Revising Poems
I hate revising.
The revision process is, by far, my least favorite part of writing a poem. An analogy I would use is walking my dog. I'm enjoying myself, walking along, enjoying the fresh air. Then, my dog starts to go #2 and I know there's an unpleasant task in the immediate future. That's what revising is: picking up the poop in my poem. While I know it's necessary, it's always a pain, and sometimes if I forgot to bring poop bags, I just fake it. In this poem, I felt really good while I was writing it. I suffered very little writer's block, and I was able to make it a stream-of-consciousness type of thing while still picking each word carefully and making it flow.
When I got the first feedback from Mr. Allen, most of it made sense and, after the revisions, I noticed a small improvement in the poem. Even though I struggled through the revision process, I could see the positive results. However, when I got the second feedback, I had a very hard time keeping the feel and essence of my original poem while still applying as many of the suggestions as I could. I don't know why, but amid all the "more imagery" and "more specific", I had lost my original poem. I guess that's okay if the original wasn't that great, but I thought it was one of the best poems I've ever written. That's not saying much, but for me, it was a very good poem. After my final revisions, I looked back at the previous draft and realized that I liked it better than the new one. When I wrote the first poem, I was following my instincts and setting down actual feelings. In the third draft, it was Thesaurus Time.
I realize that this poem degradation is mostly my own fault, but I still think it would be a better idea (at least for me) to keep revision to a minimum, at least for poems. I understand that essays need to be revised several times to be the best they can be, but I think that it's a whole different story with poems. Next time, I hope that I can do a better job of revising, but I think the problem could be avoided entirely if there was simply less revision.
The revision process is, by far, my least favorite part of writing a poem. An analogy I would use is walking my dog. I'm enjoying myself, walking along, enjoying the fresh air. Then, my dog starts to go #2 and I know there's an unpleasant task in the immediate future. That's what revising is: picking up the poop in my poem. While I know it's necessary, it's always a pain, and sometimes if I forgot to bring poop bags, I just fake it. In this poem, I felt really good while I was writing it. I suffered very little writer's block, and I was able to make it a stream-of-consciousness type of thing while still picking each word carefully and making it flow.
When I got the first feedback from Mr. Allen, most of it made sense and, after the revisions, I noticed a small improvement in the poem. Even though I struggled through the revision process, I could see the positive results. However, when I got the second feedback, I had a very hard time keeping the feel and essence of my original poem while still applying as many of the suggestions as I could. I don't know why, but amid all the "more imagery" and "more specific", I had lost my original poem. I guess that's okay if the original wasn't that great, but I thought it was one of the best poems I've ever written. That's not saying much, but for me, it was a very good poem. After my final revisions, I looked back at the previous draft and realized that I liked it better than the new one. When I wrote the first poem, I was following my instincts and setting down actual feelings. In the third draft, it was Thesaurus Time.
I realize that this poem degradation is mostly my own fault, but I still think it would be a better idea (at least for me) to keep revision to a minimum, at least for poems. I understand that essays need to be revised several times to be the best they can be, but I think that it's a whole different story with poems. Next time, I hope that I can do a better job of revising, but I think the problem could be avoided entirely if there was simply less revision.
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