Thank you for reading. Please sign up to follow us on Facebook and to follow us here on WordPress to expand your knowledge about poetry and short form writing as well as to receive the latest news about publication opportunities.
If you’ve never written a poem in any voice but your own, you might want to try writing a persona poem—it may lead you down unexplored paths of creativity!
“A persona poem is a poem in which the poet speaks through an assumed voice….Also known as a dramatic monologue, this poetic form shares many characteristics with a theatrical monologue: an audience is implied; there is no dialogue; and the poet takes on the voice of a character, a fictional identity, or a persona.”
The voice you adopt when you write a persona poem can be a fictional, imaginary or historical character, an animal, an inanimate object, a collective such as a country, or even an omniscient god-like voice. This is when the fun begins!
In “Richard the Lionheart’s Mummified Heart Examined,” a poem inspired by a true story and reprinted in my latest collection, Stone & Star: Poems in Voices Across Time, I alternately adopt the voice of the King’s Minstrel, the Royal surgeon, Richard I, his wife Berengaria of Navarre, the heart itself, and the forensic scientists who examined the heart in modern times. Needless to say, this was a fun poem to write and the voices seemed to meld seamlessly to tell the story.
In psychological terms, Jung described persona as a social mask that conceals “the true nature of the individual.” The term originates from the theater in ancient Greece where actual masks were worn by actors on stage to represent different points of view.
However, I find that writing persona poetry rather than concealing, frees the writer to reveal their subjective truths to the reader without the constraints of their own personality.
Writing persona poetry is the closest I will ever come to acting, and I find it incredibly liberating. I first found my own voice via persona poetry and it is still my favorite poetical form to use.
When writing as a historical character, I do some research and try to read letters written by that person if they are available, to pick up some of their personal vocabulary. The way they address and sign their letters, their general tone, their “voice” is usually apparent and I use that to guide my own writing of the poem.
We were asked to write from the point of view of fictional or historical persons, animals or objects: one poet wrote from the perspective of Brown Beauty, the horse Paul Revere rode, some wrote from the perspective of symbols such as the Tree of Liberty or the Liberty Bell.
When writing as a fictional character, I try to stay within the confines of the work they appeared in, and use vocabulary suited to the time period of the novel. I have fun imagining what some fictional characters would say, given a chance, especially when in the original work they were not given much dialogue. In this spirit, I’ve given voice to Weena, the Time Traveler’s mostly mute companion in H.G. Well’s The Time Machine, and Nova, the beautiful mute heroine in the original 1968 Planet of the Apes film.
I find most of the persona poems I write are emotional in nature, speaking from the heart in a more direct and universal way than I could write from my own limited experience. Some writers may feel uncomfortable putting words into another’s mouth, so to speak. Unlike novelists or playwrights, who regularly write dialogue for fictional and in some cases historical characters, poets are used to thinking of their writing as highly personal and not open to other’s voices. But isn’t most poetry persona poetry, in a way? Because whenever we write, we almost unconsciously adopt a persona, a writing voice, that is not our everyday voice, but which nonetheless reflects our authentic and true nature.
The weirdo answer from Dianne (again, me) is Tom Robbins. Not because of what he looked like, but because of what his writing revealed about the strange, funny mind behind it. From there, Dianne (still me) wanders into attraction, humor, imagination, and the peculiar intimacy of reading someone else’s words.
I (Dianne, obviously) encourage you to go read it.
But while we’re (actually me, or rather, I, I am) sending you over there, there’s another reason writers should have Authors Electric on their radar.
Write somewhere that isn’t yours already!
Get off your duff, friends. Authors Electric accepts guest posts, and opportunities like that are worth looking for.
If you’re an author, it’s easy to spend all your blogging energy writing for your own website. That’s useful, but the people visiting your website are generally people who have already found you. A guest post puts your name and your writing somewhere else, in front of someone else’s readers.
And you don’t necessarily need to write about your book. In fact, please don’t turn every guest post into an advertisement for your book. And, on your own blog, don’t do that either. And certainly don’t blog on one blog solely about going to read something on another blog. That’s something we, here at OSP (well, rather I, me, actually; the rest of OSP has no idea what I’m writing here and will probably refuse to be held accountable for it), would never do. (Go read my post!)
Write something funny. Write about the books you love. Write about research that sent you down an unexpected rabbit hole. Write about some peculiar part of the writing life. Write something that makes a reader think, I like this person. What else have they written? People think that about me all the time (I am assured by my caretakers, who wish to keep me relatively compliant and still).
That’s the point.
Guest posting can give you another byline to share, another place for readers to encounter you, another link leading back to your work, and, perhaps most importantly, a chance to introduce yourself without standing on a chair yelling BUY MY BOOK (but seriously, people, buy our books. Well, mine’s not out yet, but buy the other books from OSP. Go ahead. Make a poet smile, and put down the bread knife. God, poets eat a lot of bread!).
glorious poppy seeds
glorious poppy seeds delicious and replete I love your taste so very much I happily pick you
from my teeth
Authors Electric is one place to consider. There are others. Look at blogs and publications connected to your genre, your subject matter, your profession, your interests, or the subjects you research for your books. See whether they accept guest contributions. Read what they publish before you pitch them. (Or just pitch wildly, like me in AA softball in 1970-something; you don’t need to know the date. Shut up about the years gone by! I pitched so wildly they [the coach, my own father] stuck me on second base where I could chomp on a huge wad of Bazooka Joe, blowing bubbles so large they hid my face, and not do too much damage to our losing streak. Wait, what are we discussing here?)
EXCLUSIVE! Actual for real 100% photo of me in little league, wearing my official AA shirt and standing on second base with my beloved glove in my hand, age 9. People never could steal second from me because I was standing on it, and I could not see them coming, because of the gum.
Then come up with something their readers (which is to say readers who read their website/blog) might actually enjoy. Why would they let you post for them? Certainly because you are a serious author taking things seriously and not at all running around the yard barefoot and dangerously late for work. (By the way, forget the job. Poetry is lucrative!)
And how do you know what kinds of posts their gossamer readers like to read? I don’t know. Why you asking me? (Oh, um, read their blog and see what they write about? That might help.)
A quick scan of Authors Electric tells you that its readers are people who like books, writing, writers, publishing, and the odd places a writer’s mind wanders when nobody has stopped it in time. Posts range from writing and publishing to books and reading, author events, technology, literary memories, travel, personal stories, and whatever else can be dragged back, however tenuously, to a life lived among words. They’re personal, conversational, sometimes funny, sometimes serious, and not particularly interested in behaving like somebody’s content-marketing strategy. They seem to be genuinely nice people (as opposed to faking being nice), and that tracks because they’re mostly in Australia and the UK. I cast no stereotypes or aspersions on one side of the pond, the bog, the gulf of unreachable miscommunication, or the other. If you suggest that I am or that I do, or that I should, I will deny it with the vigor of a Dickens character.
They are also intentionally very light on salty words, unlike me and my prose, because I like every damn thing with extra freaking salt.
Why would anyone want a guest post from you? Your mother may have the answer. She thinks you’re great. But also because posting on a regular basis is really quite exhausting, and you can give another author access to another set of readers while giving the blog’s regular writers a bit of a break. Many hands make light work and all that. (Man, I’m tired. I wish someone else would write this and I could just go empty the percolator!)
And if you think you might like to guest post here, absolutely not, you shameless opportunist! Wait… No. I mean, hey, we might like that. Post a response to this post if you’re interested and tell us how to reach out and touch you (in a platonic way, of course).
And if you’d like to see one example of exactly that, go find out why that lunatic Dianne Pearce (moi, bien sûr) had such a deep (and purely, very pure) professional affection for author Robbins that she would, apparently, have overlooked quite a lot, including the possibility of belly-button fungus.
I mean, it’s Tom Robbins we’re (me, I’m) obsessed with, not John Cheever.
Read “Which Author Do You Most Want to Get With?” at Authors Electric. Go ahead. You know you want to (well, actually, you may not want to, but I would certainly like you to, so consider yourself cajoled)!
A lot of poets would rather wrestle an octopus than read one of their poems aloud. I am particularly creeped out by octopi, and I would take the octopus over the live event. When I was a young writer, twenties and thirties, I could not wait to perform my work. I always got good responses, as well, to my live readings, so I was so excited to do them. Now, though, standing in front of a room feels strangely vulnerable. I get so nervous I find myself choked up. As a young writer I had a lot of very kind teachers who were delightfully excited about my writing. When I look back at that “young” writing, I don’t think it was very good, so I wonder at that. But their support was marvelous. These days there’s no teacher to be wowed before I go out and attempt to wow the crowd, so I do feel especially …. clumsy, for lack of a better word.
Here’s the thing, though: audiences don’t expect perfection. They aren’t looking for a Broadway actor or a professional voice-over artist. They just want to hear the person who wrote the poem, read the poem. We have a few people every issue of Instant Noodles who record themselves reading their poems, and those always get more hits than the non-readers. Reading your own work gives people something the printed page can’t. They hear where you pause, which words you linger over, and where you smile without realizing it. Even a quiet, slightly nervous reading can help a listener connect with your poem in a new way.
You don’t have to book a poetry reading to do this. Prop your phone against a coffee mug, press record, and read your poem. Actually, if you want to look your best, prop your phone on something eye-level or higher, pointing down. Practice positioning until you feel confident you look okay. I often record myself on Zoom so I have more control over my look. Just open a Zoom account and hop into the “Personal Room” and hit RECORD. If you stumble over a line, pause and start over, in you’re on Zoom, or, if you’re on your phone, stop that recording and start another. Then read it again. Nobody has to know it took three tries. (I won’t tell if you won’t. Sometimes, when I record things, I need a calculator to count the tries!) If video isn’t your thing, record the audio instead. Share it in your newsletter, post it on social media, or add it to your website. You’d be surprised how many people enjoy hearing a poem in the poet’s own voice. It adds a warmth and familiarity the printed work doesn’t give. And, when I’ve listened to some of my favorite poets, I’ve been surprised by one or two who came across as decidedly… different from what I had expected. That added a new depth to the writing that really intrigued me. I would love to hear more of our Instant Noodles authors reader their work.
Next time, I’ll look at how one poem can become several meaningful posts without feeling like you’re repeating yourself.
Sometimes a writer submits a poem to Instant Noodles Literary Magazine, it gets published, and we never hear from that writer again. It’s almost as though the poem completed its mission in life and quietly retired to a folder on a laptop.
I’ve always found that a little surprising.
We work for weeks, sometimes months, on a poem. We submit it. We wait forever. We get the acceptance email, do a little happy dance in the kitchen (or maybe that’s just me), share the publication with a few friends, and then we’re off chasing the next shiny poem. But publication isn’t the end of a poem’s life. It’s the beginning of its conversation with readers.
Most people who would enjoy your work probably haven’t seen it. They don’t subscribe to the journal that published it. They weren’t refreshing the editor’s website waiting for the new issue to drop. They’re just people who like good poetry and would be delighted if your work happened to cross their path. So don’t be afraid to let a published poem keep doing its job. Read it at an open mic. Share a favorite line on social media. Tell the story behind it in your newsletter. Mention it on your website. Include it in a future reading. You spent a long time writing that poem. It has probably earned the right to stick around a little longer than the three days it spent on your Facebook page before disappearing beneath photos of someone’s lunch and a cousin’s vacation.
Next week, we’ll talk about one of the simplest ways to give a poem a longer life: reading it aloud. Don’t worry. Nobody says you have to sound like Lauren Bacall. Though if you do, I’m a little jealous.
A few years ago a short creative nonfiction essay of mine, titled “Lipstick” was published in Hare’s Paw Literary Journal. It took many attempts to find a home for this particular essay. On reflection, part of the difficulty was in deciding on an appropriate title.
In contemplating “writer’s notes” about this particular piece of writing, I remember thinking about how titles set up certain epectations.
During that lull, after I’ve sent out my work and for several months while waiting for a response, always there is self-doubt. Is the essay too short, too long. Did I mess up the tenses again. Is is too negative? Will readers find it disturbing? Will editors opposed to any type of make-up be turned off? Yes, a lot of weird thoughts were whirling around in my mind, and several of them centered on the title I’d chosen. I’d started to question my choice . Did I give I it the right title?
I felt I’d written something good. I’d workshopped it with some colleagues and received some positive feedback from editors who ”couldn’t find space for this particular piece in our upcoming issue, but please send us more work…” so I sensed I’d written something powerful, but had I chosen the right title?
Titles are hard. At least they are hard for me. I know they are important. As a former journalist, I know it is the headlines ie titles that people read first and maybe the only thing they read. Maybe if they see the title “lipstick,” I thought, they will literally think it is an essay about lipstick. Maybe I should have chosen a title that indicated it was about a fraught relationship between a mother and a daughter.
If a piece has been submitted to a magazine and it’s anonymously sitting in the slush pile, a reader/editor might barely read the work, if they decide they don’t like the title. After all, they’ve got a whole bunch of other stories waiting to be read. Maybe they shouldn’t even bother. Perhaps they are asking themselves, will this particular story interest me?
As a writer, not as an editor, I want my title to be appropriate. When I put on my editor’s hat, I’m thinking I want a title that will draw readers in and how does one do that?
As a writer, I try to draw on advice from other writers, who suggest choosing a poignant line from your piece and taking that line as your title, or as an alternative approach, selecting a moment that will evoke surprise as your title. For surprise I could have chosen, What I did when I Found Her on the Floor. For an evocative line I could have chosen, “The silence grows longer and longer.”
Often I start writing and I do not know what I’m truly writing about until my journey is coming to a close. Selecting a title can help me clarify what are the most important aspects ot the story.
I’m wondering whether this desire of mine to find the perfect title could be turned into a writing prompt. As the hot summer days seem longer forcing us to spend more time indoors and fellow writers are all looking for fresh approaches, here is an idea. Try writing your title first and specifically focus on a scene in the story that will create tension.
WRITING PROMPT: Think of a scene from your past, full of tension and conflict. Maybe it was the moment your boss handed you a pink slip or you were standing in the cafeteria line and realized you’d forgotten your voucher or wallet. What made this situation tense? How did you feel at the time? What were you thinking about? What were your physical responses?
You can do this with fictional characters and situations as well. The title, “The Moment My Boss Handed Me a Pink Slip” is obvious or maybe not. Perhaps the title will change depending on the actions that ensue. But it’s a beginning.
Picture the scene in your mind. Select a few important details that stand out. Try writing the same scene again for ten minutes with a different variation. Did you learn anything?
Thank you for reading and for your feedback. If you have a favorite technique for titling your work, please share. We’d love to post it.
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.”
~ Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, spoken by Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2
Today I am writing about a subject dear to my heart—choosing titles for poems.
The opportunity to name something you created should not be wasted. You’d think people would give this more attention than they actually do.
Back in the 80s, there was a best-selling book called The Name Game and its main premise was that your name was your destiny. If you wanted your child to be popular, excel in school and marry well, you had to be very careful what you named that little baby in the bassinet.
It would seem to follow that naming your poem merits some consideration as well!
To be clear, I’m no expert and I’m not denigrating any method you may be in the habit of using to choose your titles (or name your children!). But I have a keen interest in this subject and it seems to be a somewhat neglected area of discussion in poetry.
Just to see if maybe something on this subject was buried in books about writing poetry, I checked out a few classic poetry craft books: Ted Kooser’s The Poetry Home Repair Manual and Robert Pinsky’s Singing School. Kooser devotes a few pages to the subject. Pinsky mentions nothing about titles but does provide lots of examples of classic poem titles to peruse.
I then checked in the library catalog of a library of 2 million+ volumes, and only ONE book comes up under the LC classification subject heading: Titles of poems, it is a book called The Title to the Poem by Anne Ferry. She explores the subject in depth, asking questions like “Who gives the title? Who has the title? Who “says” the poem? Who “hears” the poem? What genre does the poem belong to? What is the poem “about”?” and considers the deeper aspects of titling poems: “There are complex relationships between what titles purport to tell and what they actually tell, and this is true not only of titles so worded that they demand interpretation, but also of those that appear straightforward.”
A title can anchor a poem in space and time, giving the reader some necessary context with which to begin reading and enjoying it. For example, a recent poem I wrote I entitled:
“Native, Antilles High School, Ft. Buchanan, Puerto Rico”
I could have just named it “Native” but the place and the time were very relevant to understanding the background of this poem, so the title’s subtitle in this case was very important.
Similarly, a poem entitled “An Evening Encounter at the Arecibo Observatory” gives the reader a lot of information, the time, the place, and the sense that this encounter is not going to be an ordinary one, given the nature of the place!
A title can lend specificity and a sense of fun at the same time: For example, “At the Mayan Monkey Mijas Chocolate Factory” (and yes, this place really exists!)
First of all, how can you visit a place called the Mayan Monkey Mijas Chocolate Factory and NOT write a poem about it and use that name in the title?? However, I later thought I really should have called it “Touring the Mayan Monkey Mijas Chocolate Factory” and that would have conveyed even more relevant information because I was a tourist, not someone who worked there or a local who regularly visited, for example. This title conveys a specific place (Mijas, Spain), history and culture (Mayan), fun (monkeys!) and sensory detail (the aroma of chocolate) and opens all sorts of questions in the reader’s mind, such as: What does a chocolate factory in Mijas have to do with Mayan monkeys?
“…titles are hard to get just right and do really important work–namely, a great title shows the reader how to read a poem.
A poem’s title is where the reader is introduced to a poet, an invitation from the poet into the depths of a poem’s magic. This is, essentially, the main job description of a title: to welcome its readers at the doorway of the poem and to draw them inside. However, the specific function titles perform can vary.”
“As a poet, I haven’t always put as much emphasis on titles, but working as a reader and then an editor for a literary journal really changed that for me. When I was in that role I had to read about a thousand poems over the period of two months. This is not an uncommon experience for editors or readers. I had to pick around ten poems out of all these poems to share with others. But after reading so many they all started to merge together in my mind. It didn’t help that a number of them had the same title. Sometimes I’d try and remember a poem I liked, but then ended up not finding it because while I remembered part of the poem I didn’t remember the title.”
This problem would be exacerbated during the judging of a poetry contest, for example, and could keep your poem from winning an award! Imagine a judge reading dozens of poems called “A Dream” for example and trying to remember which one they liked best!
I think the approach of giving memorable titles to poems helped me when, after winning the 2nd annual Writer’s Digest poetry award with “Respiratory Tech at the Vietnam Memorial, 1989,” (which conveyed the speaker, place and time) I followed it up several years later with “The Menopausal Mermaid Takes Medical Advice” which came in at #36, I think. If you keep in mind that the first contest had ~4200 entries, and was only in its 2nd year, so the entries probably ballooned afterwards to even higher numbers, the importance of a memorable title becomes all the more obvious.
I think the saddest thing I see is “Untitled” as a title. I’m sure there are many brilliant poems by that title (though I can’t think of any off hand), and of course many poets just use the first line of their poem as a title, as per Emily Dickinson (but then again, most of her poems were not meant for publication.) But I feel like not giving your poem a title is a lost opportunity to engage with your reader on a different level.
He does warn that any technique used too often can quickly become monotonous, though.
His final advice should resonate with any poet: “A title doesn’t have to be clever, poetic, or punchy — but it should be deliberate. It’s the invitation, the signpost, the spell. It’s the first poem the reader reads, even before the first line. So give your poems the names they deserve.”
You know that story you’ve been meaning to write? The poem sitting in your notebook? The idea you’ve been carrying around for three weeks while telling yourself you’ll get to it “soon”?
Well, this is your official notice. “Soon” is today.
The Instant Noodles Lit Mag Al Dente Writing Workshop with Robert Fleming takes place today at 5 PM Eastern (2 PM Pacific), and we’d love to see you there.
Whether you’re a writer, poet, artist, or creative dabbler who occasionally stares out a window pretending to work, this free online workshop is designed to help spark ideas, answer questions about submissions, and get you thinking about our upcoming Al Dente issue.
No fancy credentials required. No publication history required. No secret literary handshake required.
Just bring yourself, your curiosity, and whatever creative project has been lurking in the back of your mind.
Seats are limited, and once the workshop starts, you’ll have to live with the knowledge that everyone else is talking about writing while you’re reorganizing a drawer or scrolling social media.
Thinking about submitting to the upcoming Instant Noodles Lit Mag issue, Al Dente?
Before you hit “send,” join Editor Robert Fleming for a free online workshop on Saturday, June 13, at 5 PM Eastern (2 PM Pacific).
This informal session is designed for writers, poets, and artists who want to learn more about the theme, explore ideas, and discover what kinds of work might be a good fit for the issue.
Literary magazines can sometimes feel intimidating from the outside. This workshop is an opportunity to ask questions, generate new material, and connect with fellow creatives in a welcoming environment.
Whether you already have a submission in progress or are still waiting for inspiration to strike, you’ll leave with fresh ideas and a better understanding of where your work might fit.
Attendance is free, but seating is limited.
Reserve your spot today and help us make the next issue of Instant Noodles Lit Mag something special.
Every issue of Instant Noodles Lit Mag starts somewhere.
A line scribbled in a notebook. A strange image that won’t leave you alone. A poem that refuses to behave. A story that exists everywhere except on the page.
If you’ve been looking for a reason to finally sit down and create something, consider this your invitation.
On Saturday, June 13, at 5 PM Eastern (2 PM Pacific), Instant Noodles Lit Mag Editor Robert Fleming will host a free online Al Dente Writing Workshop designed to help writers, poets, and artists generate ideas, get inspired, and learn more about submitting to our upcoming issue, Al Dente.
Whether you’re a seasoned contributor or someone who’s never submitted a piece before, you’re welcome to join us.
The workshop is free, but space is limited.
Bring your imagination. We’ll provide the noodles.
Register today and join us for an evening of creativity and community.
