Beverly Jackson has been an inspiration with her poetry posts, (not to mention her abstract paintings — wow!). She recently shared her experiences at the Winter Poetry & Prose Getaway – Cape May N.J. and the Palm Beach Poetry Festival on her blog. She also provided examples and book recommendations she got from poets there. Dig into her January archive to read the first of those posts, beginning here.

Right now I’m reading Mary Oliver’s A Poetry Handbook, which I mentioned in a previous post.

My renewed interest in poetry arrives just in time for Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s bicentennial, which the United States Postal Service is commemorating with a special stamp — the second to bear his likeness. Longfellow is one of only two writers to be immortalized on more than one US postage stamp. Herman Melville was the other, a distinction he earned, in my estimation, with The Encantadas alone — his sketchbook about the Galapagos Islands.

The stamp displays a portrait of Longfellow, as well as a depiction of Paul Revere’s famous ride. The Smithsonian Magazine’s online biography, Famous Once Again provides lots of interesting details about Longfellow’s life. I never knew, for instance, that he was proficient in so many languages — ten altogether, at one point in his life. He’s considered the “uncrowned poet laureate” of the 19th-century US, and February 27 will be his 200th birthday.

I’m out of touch with today’s curriculums, but when I was young, just hearing or reading the first line, “Listen my children and you shall hear,” could set the cadence of Paul Revere’s Ride beating in my mind. Do kids still learn Longfellow in school? I was older when I read Evangeline, but the first verse is just as deeply embedded in my mind. I’ve since gone back for a taste, drawn in by the same first lines:

“THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.
This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman?
Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers –
Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands,
Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven?”
(read poem)

I had no idea what a Druid was when I first read that, but the poet drew me into that forest and I was hooked. I wanted to know everything about it. I wanted to know what happened to the Acadians who once lived there.

When I’m writing fiction, I tend to read mostly nonfiction, often research related to what I’m writing, or a good book on writing, creativity, or personal growth. Anything that helps understand people and their motivations better is helpful to fiction writers, as well as anything that improves our story building skills and instincts—which isn’t necessarily limited to books on writing. I don’t go for the type of self-help books that offer quick fixes to personal problems. I classify most of those with fad diet books. But I’m drawn to books that help me understand human nature and the human experience on a deeper level.

My most recent satisfying nonfiction read is Sam Keen Inward Bound: Exploring the Geography of Your Emotions, first published in 1980 and revised in 1992 when it was resurrected from out-of-print limbo. This is the second time I’ve read this book, and I’ve come away with something new each time.

A few months ago I might’ve answered Susan’s question differently. I only recently realized I avoid reading fiction while I write it. I think it was a remark Eric Mayer made on his blog a few months ago that first prompted me to examine my reading habits. I sometimes try to pick up a novel while in the throes of a fiction writing cycle, only to notice I keep wanting to write instead, or that I begin to move away from my story in a way that isn’t helpful to my writing process. Now and then, when I burn out on my own work, I take a break and read fiction, but then I have to wiggle back into my story again. When I’m creating a populated fictional world I want to keep that world and its characters alive in my mind, not fill my mind with someone else’s. Reading fiction can inspire me to write, but I find that once I’m doing the creative bit, I’m caught up in a flow that I want to avoid interrupting unless I get stuck or burn out. I even sometimes find myself reading nonfiction from the mindset of a character in my story.

Movies and TV don’t have this effect, just reading. I watch my favorite movies and shows, and they don’t seem to hamper my illusory dream. But then I don’t have to work at watching those the same way my mind needs to be active while reading. If I was a TV writer or a movie maker that might be different.

I know I’m burning out when my own writing begins to invade my dreams at night, and those dreams prove more repetitive than refreshing. Then it’s time for a break. If it’s an extended break I may turn to novels.

Fiction writers need to read, and most enjoy reading lots of good writing, both fiction and nonfiction. My breaks tend to include some fiction, both as entertainment—one of my favorite forms, ever since I was a kid—and as a way of keeping up with the best work out there, letting the greats teach me by example. This year at this time I’m watching other blogs, reviewers, and reading lists like DorothyL, for their best reads of 2005, so I can build my own reading list to choose from at my next break. That way I won’t wind up one day, desperate for fiction, grabbing the first thing I glimpse in the grocery store—too often a source of disappointment. Word of mouth and careful browsing tend to lead me to the better books.

View the blog, or read Post Secret the book, available at Amazon.