THE PRIESTHOOD OF PROCESS

What makes me “like” the work of a poet who may oppose my real-world beliefs? Does our love of language unite us in some unconsidered/unconscious way? How? Is poetry itself an indicator of a distinct kind or level of intelligence across demographics? Does the process of creating poetry unite all poets? These questions are rooted in my experience as a peer-review panelist and occasional judge of literary competitions. It’s my observation that the lay person invited to sit on a literary panel, while certainly appreciating poetry or fiction, usually hasn’t a clue about the creative process itself and cannot accurately gauge the quality of an applicant’s writing sample. It is also my observation that in mixed genre situations, one invariably meets a prose writer who is contemptuous of poets, or regards the writing of poetry as “easy”—something anyone can do. In my private writing life, I have encountered those who think I should stick to poetry and not write prose, and conversely. In one unsettling instance, I was informed, on the hush-hush, that I had lost the opportunity to receive a much-coveted prize because my prose was too poetic. The literary world apparently agrees that, prose poems aside, poetry and prose remain separate since there are no outstanding prizes for mixed genre books. When teaching, I often compare entering the literary world with entering a priesthood—the practice requires discipline, devotion, and great love; the diet is spare and sometimes bitter.