Persistence = Poetry

Here's what happened:

I was waiting in an extremely long airport line when I noticed the people in front of me were wearing matching sneakers and they had their last name monogrammed on the heel, with Mr and Mrs.

I wondered if they were on their honeymoon

but instead of asking them, I challenged myself to a Google search. I wanted to see how much I could find out about these strangers based on their last names and their luggage tag.

And let me tell you, I went deep.

I wrote about the experience, and in my mind, the piece wanted to be a zine, or a chapbook. Something pamphlet-y that would stand on its own.

I tried to draw it,

I tried collage, I tried hiring an illustrator. Nothing worked. I talked it up at every writing conference that I went to. I entered many, many chapbook contests. I couldn’t get a bite.

After five years of submitting

I thought -

Maybe if I turn it into poetry?

I broke the story down into about twenty poems and sent it on its way. Nine months later, Cactus Press offered to publish my collection, “Honeymoon Sneakers: A Cautionary Tale”.

Persistence in this case

means trying a bunch of different things until you (I) hit on something that works. Maybe you write poetry already, and your piece wants to be a mystery novel. Or maybe you write mystery novels but your current project reads more like a screenplay.

When being persistent, you may want to try experimenting with form and tense - moving from third person to first, or from present to past or from iambic pentameter to - don’t ask me, I’m not that kind of poet.

The point is - if you’ve been submitting the same piece over and over again and nothing is working - maybe the piece needs a change of scenery. Or maybe you need a change of scenery, but if you go to the airport be careful with your sneakers, because a monogram can give away more information than you ever intended.

Photo by Samuel Lopes on Unsplash