In Praise of the Free-Write: Finding the Unexpected Poems
One of my absolute worst personal writing habits is my all-too-often inability to get any words down on a page unless I can perfectly concoct the overall idea in my head first. This has, of course, proven problematic time and time again. Most days, I feel like yelling at myself to just get one word, literally any word, written down because I know even that seemingly small action has the potential to spark an entirely unexpected piece.
In the last year, I discovered something that at first glance seems to be an obvious aid in overcoming mental blocks: free-writing. It’s proven to be a successful exercise for me and with a little practice, has helped me get out of my own head multiple times.
I was first introduced to the art of the free-write in Megan Falley’s Poems That Don’t Suck course. In our sessions, we used Natalie Goldberg’s 7 Rules of Writing (keeping our pens moving, fighting the urge to cross out/edit along the way, and not reading what we wrote until time was up, etc.) to help us create the first drafts of new and unexpected poems in about 10 minutes.
The first few attempts were, in a word, intimidating. I still wasn’t allowing myself to just write most of the time and before I knew it, the workshop was over. I knew I wanted to keep trying to incorporate it into my writing routine and, thankfully, I recently had the opportunity to do so in another workshop.
In the workshop Emotional Historians, led by Jon Sands, the first part of each week’s meeting was dedicated solely to free-writing poems that wouldn’t be shared out. Using similar rules, as well as random words given throughout the timed writing, participants had the chance to create six brand new first drafts over the course of the spring session. And, surprisingly, some of my drafts ended up becoming personal favorites of mine after sorting through the poem’s darlings and working out its overall focus.
At times, I still struggled to actually find where I wanted the poem to begin. But once I found my footing and told myself to just write it, it ultimately turned out better than I thought it ever could. After editing and fine-tuning the drafts into fully-formed poems, I realized I was happy with what I’d written and thought about how they may have never existed without the limitless paths free-writing allows. My notebook during the workshop is a testament to how free-writing (and later editing) can work so beautifully for your work. One of those poems was even recently accepted for publication!
Now, whenever I’m struggling to write, I know to simply set a timer for 10 or 15 minutes and just free-write. The poem could start in one direction and potentially end in a total surprise. It’s exciting just to know that something with the potential to be amazing is bound to find its way to the page.
