Preparing my collections of poetry for release, as well as the shorter chapbooks appearing at my Thistle Finch editions blog, has been eye-opening, especially after spending so much time concentrating on the novels.

A lot has changed in my half-century at this. At first glance, my work has seemed to shoot off in every direction. But then, in spite of that, commonalities appear. Some of them, to some extent, apply to both the prose and poetry.

Despite all of the changes in my life and the differing approaches of my writing that accompanied that, I believe some underlying qualities run through my output.

Here goes, mostly from notes to self from way back and up:

• No tolerance for fluff. Anti-romantic. Playful twists are another matter.
• My quest for accuracy has invoked sharp focus – despite the blur and whirl of my own life.
• I’ve relied on flashes, gathering. Like snowfall, curiously. A burst of storm, however brief or long the season.
• Surrealism & absurdity can be more accurate than what’s seen on the surface.
• Jagged and leaping make sparks, akin to my Kinisi here at the Barn.
• As for what makes my work unique? What makes me unique? (My niche?)
• In much of my writing, I’ve mapped organic geo-history, the overlapping energies of a locale and its spirit(s), as truthfully as I can, however fragmentary the result. Personal relationships, including marriage, hover within these landscapes, even as their own physical places as well as spiritual, influencing and influenced by the larger ecosystem. I try to comprehend this within a concern for the larger, more timeless harmony (Logos).
• My investigation of invisible vibrations of specific landscapes has led me to cherish alternative cultures that embody healing energies – Native practices, Amish, Mennonite, Quaker, and so on – in contrast to our increasingly rootless, violent, unstable society at large.
• An awareness of the wonder of the universe and an appreciation for our own unique places within it. Out of that, roots, a radiance of peace, and the sustaining nurture of a community of kindred souls.
• Mine is a unique, distinctive name reflecting my originality (or eccentricities) in bridging many diverse currents. My writings, as I see them, are tightly compressed, radiating clarity, and highly polished with a raw edge.
• What’s my trademark, my signature touch?
• Starting with poetry:
• Distillation. Compression. Radiance.
• Lean and polished lines.
• An aversion to formal forms.
• A rejection of poetry as a hidden code requiring an interpreter.
• A preference for allowing the images and details to speak for themselves.
• Delight in allowing the individual reader’s interpretation to unfold on its own.
• The land and the girl / spiritual landscape / the girl in a spiritual landscape. Somehow, they overlap.
• An unexpected snap in each line. (Thus, lines long enough for something to happen.)
• Silences as positive openings.
• Writing as a means of discovery and deepened memory, more than to embellish or escape.
• As a journalist, my touchstones have been Accurate, Informative, Useful, and Entertaining. I wonder how those apply to poetry, too.
• To honor life and its wellspring.
• Writing as an act of gratitude and humility.
• To be audacious without subterfuge or scrabble or sleight-of-hand.
• To be enterprising without deception.
• To be daring without falsification / ruse / trickery or bombast.
• Much of my writing emerges as an attempt to record and investigate the Hidden Way as it has opened and shaped my life. Often unconventional, prompting experimental inquiry, this unfolding has led me to its ancient roots and traditions, which in turn provoke contemporary responses.

And the fiction? You can add:

• That aversion to formula or genre, especially when it comes to marketing.
• A preference for allowing the images and details to speak for themselves.
• I write to discover, and to remember, more than to embellish or escape.
• As a newspaper editor, I have often found daily journalism to be better written than many of the novels and other books that crossed my desk.
• An awareness of the artifice of linear, rational exposition and development. How do we get beyond that?
• Deep Image is not confined to poetry.
• Life as an experiment. So much variability with the basic laws and given conditions.
• I’ve relied on flashes, gathering. Like snowfall, curiously. A burst of storm, however brief or long the season. Or even confetti or a ticker-tape parade.
• I’ve preferred discovery to fabrication. Accuracy to cleverness. Mandala engagement over private code. What is brought forth in each individual reflecting on the icon, from deep personal experience, rather than the artifact itself.

Well, that’s how I’ve defined my efforts over time. Sometimes the results do startle me, all these years later. And some of my results come closer to my ideals than others, not that I’ll fault those, either.

~*~

You can my works 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. Or you can ask your local library to obtain them.