It’s a question that comes up every month for me a few days before my writing group meets. Which new poem do I share? Which one needs the most work? Which one will my friends like best? Which one will I get most defensive about.
Not all of those are valid questions when selecting a poem, but they’re questions that come up in my mind, and probably other people experience the same ones. I’ve written a handful of new poems since our last meeting, some I like a lot, some I think are just skeletons, and some I think are in need of a few key fixes to make them publication-ready (I know, that doesn’t necessarily have to be the goal, but I’ll leave that issue alone for now).
The selection issue was a little different when I was a grad student many years ago. I was in a weekly workshop for two years, and the frequency of the workshop meant that I had less work to pick from every week. I’ve never been a write-every-day person—I start one or two new pieces a week, and then tinker with them, and others, occasionally throughout the week, and frequently abandon them after a while. When I only wrote one new poem, that was the one I brought in.
In the workshops I teach I usually assign prompts so the participants have less choice in what to bring in at the next meeting (though I almost always allow people to bring in an alternate if my prompt just wasn’t working for them that week).
So, all this brings me back to my initial issue—how to pick the poem. This is mostly a matter of deciding what you want from the workshop and what kind of feedback you think you need. People who just want positive feedback or need confirmation that they’re doing something good, tend to only bring in finished or mostly finished poems. The problem with that approach is that the readers in the workshop are automatically going to assume your poem isn’t finished, and they’re likely going to start talking about changes. If you’ve decided in your heart that the poem is finished, then your heart is going to get broken. I’ve seen this happen in workshops. The result is usually a very defensive poet, and nothing gets learned.
I’ve also seen people bring in poems they previously workshoped with other groups or other teachers, and that can also be a strange situation, especially if the feedback from one group or teacher seems to contradict the other. Workshop groups, and workshop teachers, don’t all see things the same way, just as all journals and publishers don’t see things the same way. If the writer does this to pit one group of readers against another, or hopes that one group is going to be more receptive then the other, then the writer isn’t really learning. If the writer just wants a second opinion, then takes all the suggestions home to think about, that writer is learning.
And that’s the most important part of being a workshop participant. You don’t have to agree with every or even any suggestions, but you should listen to them, think about their context, and think about how the suggestions fit into your own goals with the poem.
I usually come to workshops with a few specific questions about the poem I’ve brought it. Maybe I’m uncertain about the form, or worry that the central metaphor misses the mark, and in the discussion I listen to see if anyone addresses those questions. If not, I may come out and ask, but usually if no one said, “hey, your stanza breaks are confusing,” then I assume they must be OK.
I also listen for unexpected comments. Often in writing I’m concerned about one aspect of the poem, and not really noticing how another part is driving off the road. Those surprising observations can also be helpful because they direct your attention to places you hadn’t been considering.
And finally, know that not every comment needs to be acted upon. The poem, ultimately, is your poem, and you have authority to agree or disagree with other people’s opinions (just not out loud). Not all the readers in a workshop will have the same likes and dislikes as you, so not all the suggestions are workable suggestions. But give each one a respectable chance. I’ve learned more from suggestions I’ve disagreed with, than from those I did.
My writing group meets next week, and I still don’t know what poem to share with them. If I get some new work done before then, maybe I’ll figure it out.