things i wish i knew before writing poetry pt I

it’s about the reader’s experience, not yours

We write for many reasons, but most of us, with poetry, want someone else to read our work and think oh wow this hits.

In order to do this, we must consider the reader and their own experiences and how they overlap with ours (our speaker’s).

Let’s walk through some considerations when writing for our reader.

specific detail

Many times we hear use specific detail and imagery.

To me, this meant everything I could think of: the song that makes me think of my first grade teacher, my first broken bone, the pinch of an IV the first time inside my hand.

And this is exactly what it means.

However, the way you convey these things to your reader is how you make an emotional impact.

Every detail matters, but each needs to have context or provide a bridge that connects to something universal.

For example, if I compare a smell in rehab to my grandmother’s closet, this inherently means nothing to my reader: they do not know my grandmother or what her closet smells like and they have no reason to understand why I am making this connection.

However, if I describe how we were all drenched in cigarette smoke, the only vice we were allowed, and how it reminded my me of my grandmother who quit smoking cigarettes when I was born, then we are onto something.

Or, if I don’t need them to understand anything about her but I want them to understand the specific smell, then I describe the cigarette smoke with sensory detail, like how it sizzles on my tongue, still dry from withdrawal.

This, at least, gives the reader more context and more imagery to work with in order to understand a bit better.

It’s about supplying the reader with the detail that will help them meet you where you (or your speaker) are.

You want relevant immersion.

And this works more broadly beyond sensory detail as well...

shared experience

For example, not everyone’s been to rehab, but everyone’s been in a room with people unlike themselves who all share something in common. Maybe it’s a waiting room, maybe it’s a classroom, maybe it’s a locker room.

So I have to ask myself: what kinds of things do these experiences share in common? How do I bridge the gap between these experiences?

Sometimes this means providing context point blank but sometimes this means comparing your experience to a broader one.

What is something we have all experienced that your speaker experiences in the poem?

To use the previous example, what does it feel like to be in a room of similar yet very different people?

Do you feel like an outsider or part of a community? Are you comfortable or not? Or is it a mixture of all of the above?

This is where the meat and potatoes of your writing come in.

What are sensory experiences we all share that make us feel a certain way–and what you want your reader feeling now?

The whirring fluorescent lights, the awkward cough and shuffle of shared elbow space, the way everyone looks to a door as it creaks open–these are things that are widely universal and can help ground your reader in your own, more personal experience.

This is important because now the reader can better meet you where you are as you take them through the rest of your poem and hopefully immerse them in your intended experience.

These, of course, are just my own silly examples to hopefully broaden your scope of understanding when it comes to the balance between relatability and specificity.

Basically, when you begin asking yourself how does this connect to the broader human experience? you begin to uncover your angle.

Poetry is the exploration of truth and how humans navigate the world. So once you are able to understand how your piece plays a role in this journey to understanding, it can help reach your audience with a greater impact.

So, next time you sit down to write about a specific experience, pretend you are writing for your Severance Innie–someone who has basic human knowledge and experiences but zero knowledge of your specific life lived.

Or pretend you are talking to someone who has lived a life opposite of you but in the same world.

Take yourself outside your experience and ask what the reader needs to know and why.

Then figure out how to get them there.