Today sees us back at The Guardian website once more, simply because there's a fascinating blog up by Jonathan Jones, titled "Why I never became a poet". His post explains how he was discouraged by a teenage encounter with a poetry editor, but the real interest is in the readers' comments. They cover a huge range and lead us towards questions...
...what makes some people persevere with writing poetry beyond an adolescent rush, while others give it up...?
...when offering our poetry for publication instead of keeping it private, are we being thick-skinned/narcissistic/generous/brave/artistic/arrogant (delete as appropriate)...?
Going back to the original post, I think the key point revolves around the idea of seeing onself as "A Poet". Fifteen years after I started writing verse with intent, I still feel intensely uncomfortable describing myself as such - it's a terrific conversation-stopper!
DISPLACED They called her aloof, impractical, clumsy, plain. It was, they
say, difficult for her not to fall in love.In spite, that is, of the first
coughs...
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