{"id":1205,"date":"2021-02-20T14:07:44","date_gmt":"2021-02-20T18:07:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/?p=1205"},"modified":"2021-02-20T14:07:44","modified_gmt":"2021-02-20T18:07:44","slug":"the-writing-process-what-i-remember-what-i-dont","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/?p=1205","title":{"rendered":"THE WRITING PROCESS-what I remember what I don’t"},"content":{"rendered":"

The Writing Process-What I Remember; What I Don\u2019t<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A student once said to me that she appreciated me telling the class to keep everything.\u00a0 Keep each and every draft of your writing, your manuscript.\u00a0 Did I say that?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Actually, I save nothing.\u00a0 Okay, next to nothing.\u00a0 When did I start letting go? It\u2019s not about keeping what brings me joy.<\/em>\u00a0 My writing isn\u2019t joyful.\u00a0 Although, someone once said it had sass.<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I have always decluttered.\u00a0 Every two or three months I purge-this includes not only things, but sometimes, people (sometimes they purge me).\u00a0 But since the Pandemic, actually even before, I started a momentous purge\u2014maybe it was when I turned 70 and knew any day now could be my last and why make my children go through my things, things they wouldn\u2019t want.\u00a0 Even worse, if they, without paying any attention to who I was, threw them out without a nod or a recognition.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My office files are fairly pristine.\u00a0 Sorted, labeled, shelved:\u00a0 insurance, taxes, car, condo, publications\u2014mine and those of my friends.\u00a0 Yet, as the piles of my essays and poems thin, I am heart struck to notice a journey of words that repeat, that sail forth, that bring me to my writing\/life today at the age of 73.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I have a book forthcoming. March 2021, LHP:\u00a0 Septuagenarian: love is what happens when I die. <\/em>Now that\u2019s a scary title if not understood as a metaphor.\u00a0 The mock-up of the cover has the sub-title in small font size.\u00a0 What does that mean?\u00a0 Are we afraid of death?\u00a0 Actually, the title came from a poem within the manuscript and it stuck, the line in the title, not the poem.\u00a0 It\u2019s a metaphor.\u00a0 Clarissa Pinkola Est\u00e9s said What must I give more death to today, in order to generate more life?<\/em> I say, what must I let go of to generate love, be love, give love, get love.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As I fumble through boxes of what I have not yet been able to discard, I discover a few poems that haven\u2019t yet found their way to the trash.\u00a0 One poem in particular, but there are others, starts out like this:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cI woke up knowing I was dead.\u00a0 The first thing I\u2019ve been sure of all my life.\u00a0 The marks stretched, some visible and some invisible.\u00a0 Stretched past cardboard boxes.\u00a0 None of them empty,\u00a0 Each box filled with an arm or a leg.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

The two-page poem contain boxes each labeled by a decade. It ends with:\u00a0 \u201cThis was love.\u00a0 She had finally gotten what she wanted.\u00a0 But she was no longer who she was. She didn\u2019t recognize herself\u2026.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

The poem was dated October 15, 1999.\u00a0 Only three years after I earned an MFA. There are hand-written revisions.\u00a0 There is a short version printed in red.\u00a0 A note says Vulva Riot.\u00a0 There is a chorus that reads:\u00a0 \u201cStretch marks, mark time, highway marks, passing marks, remarks, earmarks, market, marker, question marks, magic markers, grave markers, stretch marks.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Sometimes we don\u2019t know why we say things, do things, save things\u2014write things.\u00a0 But there is significance to our actions.\u00a0 I am glad I saved this poem. If I had come across it earlier, it would be in my book.\u00a0 It would be the Introduction, the Foreword.\u00a0 I am going to edit the poem.\u00a0 This poem will not be discarded.\u00a0 There are no rules I told my students.\u00a0 Save all your drafts or don\u2019t.\u00a0 Discard everything so future generations won\u2019t be bothered, or save what has been your life line and hope someone will embrace it.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

WRITING EXERCISE:\u00a0 choose a word, such as mark<\/em> and explore it and all related words by sound, by meaning, or both.\u00a0 Create a chorus\/a short verse.\u00a0 Let it be the pattern that emerges.\u00a0 How do you fill the empty spaces in-between?\u00a0 Are they boxes marked by decades such as:<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cOne box, marked 1953-1963, contained Hostess Cup Cakes.\u00a0 Campbell\u2019s Chicken Noodle Soup.\u00a0 Barbie dolls.\u00a0 Captain, May I.\u00a0 Sorry.\u00a0 Sugar and Spice.\u00a0 Axel and His Dog. Captain Kangaroo. Nancy Drew. Bobbsey Twins.\u00a0 The Little Engine That Could.\u00a0 Pop Beads,\u00a0 Roller Skates.\u00a0 Crinolines. Hula Hoops.\u00a0 Red Rover.\u00a0 Pony Tails.\u00a0 Our Redeemer Lutheran Church. Kool Aide. \u201cGo Tell Aunt Rhody the Ol\u2019 Gray Goose Is Dead\u201d. The Salvation Army Book Store on Nicollet Island. Government Surplus.\u00a0 A metal Grocery Cart.\u00a0 Trading Cards.\u00a0 Air Raid Drills.\u00a0 Standish Elementary School.\u00a0 Woolworths.\u00a0Wonder Bread.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

I probably did tell the student to save all of her writing.\u00a0 I probably meant it.\u00a0 Much of my writing, my former life was left behind when I made, yet another relationship move.\u00a0 This one sudden.\u00a0 Sometimes things aren\u2019t saved because we can\u2019t take them with us.\u00a0 But sometimes, a book authored and signed by you to another poet will show up on a Google search and you know not everything is lost, it just might have found a new home.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sherry Quan Lee<\/p>\n

February 18, 2021<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Writing Process-What I Remember; What I Don\u2019t   A student once said to me that she appreciated me telling the class to keep everything.\u00a0 Keep each and every draft of your writing, your manuscript.\u00a0 Did I say that?   Actually, I save nothing.\u00a0 Okay, next to nothing.\u00a0 When did …<\/p>\n

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