Some writers manage to follow a detailed outline, but that’s never worked for me. Sometimes I’ve had a vague timeline or trajectory or anticipated structure, but then the piece started going its own way.

Technically, that makes me a “pantser” – someone writing by the seat of his or her pants.

I do write to discover as well as remember, or as another artist once said, “What’s the use of sticking to an outline if you already know how it will end?”

Point taken.

An artwork in progress can become a living organism. It will be seen differently by readers and editors differently than from you do. What you would cut, they might love. What you love, they see as sore thumb.

I’d love to hear from songwriters and filmmakers and playwrights and painters along those lines.

There’s also the potential of becoming so rarified we lose all connection to others.

~*~

I suppose that rigidity can extend to the way we work. Do we keep a tight schedule – so many hours a day, putting in what Bukowski called “butt time,” or do we slack off and then explode in a two-week frenzy the way Kerouac would?

Again, we all differ.

Me? I used to prefer the wee hours around midnight. And then somewhere it switched over to early morning.

I had imagined having three books published each year – one of poetry, one of Quaker practice, and one of fiction or memoir/genealogy. (They were already written.)

The rest of the time would be correspondence and basic living, including a social life, with concerts/plays/etc. filling the evenings.

My wife rather scoffed at that, seeing so much I was overlooking. Alas.

As I once noted: Trying to catch up but constantly behind – the modern mind. The motor mind. As for your visions in the night?

~*~

Another shift has come in my appreciation of slang. It can truly enliven a passage.

The words don’t always continue with the same meaning, either, which is an additional live wire.

But listening to kids today or even athletes and pop musicians I’m finding I have no idea what they’re saying, not even the sentence construction.

~*~

When I first began reading contemporary poetry (for pleasure, independent of classroom assignment), I sensed that often the poem existed as a single line or two, with the rest of the work as window dressing. Now I read the Psalms much the same way, for the poem within the poem, or at least the nugget I’m to wrestle with on this occasion. Psalm 81, for instance, has both “voice in thunder” and “honey from rock.” How wondrous!

Also: Revise, revise, revise, and be alert for the flash out of nowhere.

I translated the motto inside a friend’s harpsichord as “Who sings once, speaks twice.” The original quotation, from Augustine, was “He who sings prays twice.” Maybe out of need?

Good poetry, I’ll insist, also sings. Or perhaps drums, I’ll take either. Even when it doesn’t fit traditional scanning.

Let me repeat the challenge that bad religion can be overcome only by good religion. Ignoring that only allows it to fester.

For me, the act of writing – especially poetry – becomes a form of prayer. Not that you will necessarily see that.

Does that work for any other writer? I’m all ears.

~*~

Remember, you can find my novels in the digital platform of your choice at Smashwords, the Apple Store, Barnes & Noble’s Nook, Scribd, Sony’s Kobo, and other fine ebook retailers. They’re also available in paper and Kindle at Amazon, or you can ask your local library to obtain them.