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Magnetic Poetry 365:22

January 22nd, 2011 (04:14 pm)

I usually work on these poems in the middle of the night, and Tom usually reads them when he's feeding the dogs in the morning. He said this one made him feel like he needs to defend his gender. I don't blame him. Then I wondered if people will think I'm writing about my life, which makes me feel I need to issue a disclaimer: Words randomly pulled from the Magnetic Poetry box and shaped into a poem have a narrator, as does any story, and the narrator and author are not necessarily the same person. I think most people know this, but then I read comments on other writers' articles and blogs and I remember that reading comprehension is not innate.

Sort of related: Recently, someone wondered to me how much in my novels comes from my own experiences. Who can say? I read an article on memory the other day that explains why all memoirs are actually fiction, so fiction is certainly even more what I've always called it--fictitious. The same goes for poems.

IMAGINATION. That's what makes writing fun for me. My brain has always had a disease I call "characters," and this is why dolls were fun for me as a kid and remain fun for me today. Every doll has a story, and none of those stories are my story. I couldn't possibly stand on my tiptoes forever.

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