Advice to Writers from a Poet

 

Charles Beaudelaire, French Poet

Charles Beaudelaire,  a Frenchman lived from 1821-1827. He was a poet, an art and literay critic, and a translator. His most famous book of poetry was titled Les Fleurs du mal which translates to The Flowers of Evil. Earlier today, I saw a quote of his posted on Facebook by a friend. Simple but lovely. Beaudeliare said "Always be a poet, even in prose". 

That got me to thinking about the words we use when we write prose, whether it be a piece of fiction, an essay, a memoir, or an article. Our aim is to get the story down, or the pertinent facts for the essay or article. or the highlights of a life in memoir. 

What we should also do is use lovely words and phrases as we write, just as Beaudelaire suggested. Doing so will bring whatever you're writing to life. You'll paint a picture for the reader with your words. 

Yesterday, I critiqued a short essay for one of the women in my online writing group. She described a desert walk with the pen of a poet. She could have merely told me she went for a walk in the desert, but she truly painted a picture of the scant but significant vegetation, colors, and more. In that respect, she did write like a poet. 

Word choice when we write is one more important element in our writer's toolkit. Why write 'I saw a flower.' when you could say 'I noted a peach-colored blossom whose  ruffled petals were as fragile as a butterfly's wings.'  The second sentence paints a picture for you. 

Word choice when describing a character in a story leaves a lasting impression on the reader. An example:  'Merle's shoulders slumped, and he kept his head lowered, so I had no idea what color his eyes were. What I did note with alarm was the empty space where his left ear should have been. What had happened to him? His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his wrinkled trench coat. When he suddenly raised his head and smiled, I could only describe him as radiant. He made me feel like the sun had reappeared after a spring storm.' 

If your character is standing at the rail on the deck of a ship, consider what he/she sees. A perfect spot for some description to make your reader feel as if he/she is tanding next to that character. 

A word of caution, however. Don't overdo it, as then your writing becomes almost overkill. For instance, writers who use three or four adjectives before one noun on a consistent basis just might turn their reader away. 

When you edit and revise a first draft, consider your word choices. Look for places where you can add more in the way of description or feelings. 

When you write prose, write like a poet--with flourish, with heart, and with emotion. 

A contest winning poem of mine that illustrates some of what today's post entails. 

Artists All

Painting with oils,

watercolors brushed across paper,

clay molded by loving hands, 

marble chiseled to exquisite form.

Artists ply their trade

by the golden light of day,

by the velvet depths of night

with passion and joy.

One more artist joins the ranks.

The writer brushes words over paper,

molds a story bit by glittering bit,

chisels a novel to survive the ages.

Life stories are gathered 

from country roads to city streets,

written from the depths of a heart

bursting with intensity and rapture.

Artists all, masters of creation,

be they painters, sculptors or writers,

leaving footprints on canvas, marble and paper--

heartfelt tributes embraced by mankind.

                                     --Nancy Julien Kopp  

The photo above is from the Hans Christian Andersen movie starring Danny Kaye as Hans. The quote is his, too. The gifted comedian and actor was an insightful man. How right he was to urge us to do all we can with what we have. 

He used a canvas and the idea of our being artists to get his point across. For me, the quote can also be looked at as writers who must spread the word paintings they create wherever possible. Never write just a little. Write every day--words of advice writers hear from successful writers--write with the joy of spreading your words where many can read them. 

Writers do paint with words rather than brushes. Aren't we lucky? Our method is not nearly as messy. We don't need to wear a smock to cover our clothes as we tap away at our keyboards. We don't have to deal with wet paint and turpentine to clean brushes. Yet, we can paint a wonderful picture with the words that come from our hearts. 

I know I am not alone in being overwhelmed at some natural scenery and wishing I could capture the place and the moment on canvas. Art is not my gift but I can write about what I witnessed. A short essay came from a moment in time many years ago which expands on this topic. Note the quote at the end. You can read it below. 

 Word Painting

By Nancy Julien Kopp

    

Out of breath and heart pounding, I make it to the top of the hill. Tallgrass prairie spreads before me, wildflowers springing up between the sharp blades of grass, dotting the hillsides with bits of bold color. Not a cloud mars the intensity of a clear azure sky.  The strong breeze ruffles my hair, and I take a deep breath, pleasure encasing my very soul. Soon, the sun will turn to flame and begin a slow descent before the darkness of night covers the rolling hills like a vast blanket.

    

Oh, to be an artist and capture the scene God has placed before me. But a paintbrush and canvas are useless for a person like me. I can see the spectacular display, but never would I be able to duplicate it with an artist’s tools. I earned C’s in art classes all through my school years, and only for effort, not as the successful result of any assigned project.

    

I sigh, survey the living prairie once more, and bend to pluck a wildflower. I twirl the blossom between thumb and forefinger, then head to my car. The dust on the gravel road swirls behind me as I drive, and thoughts dance through my mind.

   

Maybe there is a way to capture what I’ve seen here today. Since I’m a writer, I paint my canvas with words in every story or article I create. That flower lying on the seat next to me—soft as the down on a baby’s head, purple as royal robes, and delicate as lace. All of these phrases describe the pretty little blossom. I bring it close and sniff to catch its sweet scent. I think of more phrases to capture this beauty for others. The artist’s canvas hangs on a wall or rests on an easel for all to see, but my words can live on, too.

    

The artist may dip his brush into paint and splash it across canvas to portray the sky, while I paint my sky with words—words that articulate, emote, surge the senses, highlight emotions. Can the artist capture the movement of the tallgrass prairie with a swish of his brush? A gifted painter can do so, but I can, too. I sift through phrases in my mind until I find the ones I want. Gentle breezes cause only a slight stir in the stiff blades of grass, but a strong Kansas wind can bring wave upon wave as it surges swiftly across the prairie. My words flow as easily as the artist’s brush. I paint my words with passion and excitement. The picture emerges from the depths of my heart. It is the gift God has given me, a gift He allows me to share with others who read my work.

    

Danny Kaye, actor and comedian, said, “Life is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can.”  I, too, am an artist. Just imagine what I can paint with words.

Word Painting

 

Ever wish you could paint a spectacular sunset or an English garden or maybe a tall ship on the sea when you stand before it? The essay below was written several years ago, but it highlights painting without a brush. Writers have their own method. 

Word Painting

By Nancy Julien Kopp

    

     Out of breath and heart pounding, I make it to the top of the hill. Tallgrass prairie spreads before me, wildflowers springing up between the sharp blades of grass, dotting the hillsides with bits of bold color. Not a cloud mars the intensity of a clear azure sky.  The strong breeze ruffles my hair, and I take a deep breath, pleasure encasing my very soul. Soon, the sun will turn to flame and begin a slow descent before the darkness of night covers the rolling hills like a vast blanket.

     Oh, to be an artist and capture the scene God has placed before me. But a paintbrush and canvas are useless for a person like me.  I can see the spectacular display, but never would I be able to duplicate it with an artist’s tools. I earned C’s in art classes all through my school years, and only for effort, not as the successful result of any assigned project.

     I sigh, survey the living prairie once more, and bend to pluck a wildflower. I twirl the blossom between thumb and forefinger, then head to my car. The dust on the gravel road swirls behind me as I drive, and thoughts dance through my mind.

     Maybe there is a way to capture what I’ve seen here today. Since I’m a writer, I paint my canvas with words in every story or article I create. That flower lying on the seat next to me—soft as the down on a baby’s head, purple as royal robes, and delicate as lace. All of these phrases describe the pretty little blossom. I bring it close and sniff to catch its sweet scent. I think of more phrases to capture this beauty for others. The artist’s canvas hangs on a wall or rests on an easel for all to see, but my words can live on, too.

     The artist may dip his brush into paint and splash it across canvas to portray the sky, while I paint my sky with words—words that articulate, emote, surge the senses, highlight emotions. Can the artist capture the movement of the tallgrass prairie with a swish of his brush? A gifted painter can do so, but I can, too. I sift through phrases in my mind until I find the ones I want. Gentle breezes cause only a slight stir in the stiff blades of grass, but a strong Kansas wind can bring wave upon wave as it surges swiftly across the prairie. My words flow as easily as the artist’s brush. I paint my words with passion and excitement. The picture emerges from the depths of my heart. It is the gift God has given me, a gift He allows me to share with others who read my work.

     Danny Kaye, actor and comedian, said, “Life is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can.”  I, too, am an artist, and I’ll dot my prose with colorful words as long as I’m able. 

Artists Of Many Kinds

I've always thought it would be wonderful to be able to paint what you see.  I think about it when I see a magnificent sunset or a mountain so majestic it nearly defies description. If only I could pick up a brush and capture it for others to see.

I've admired sculptures, impressed by the emotion a sculptor can incorporate into a piece of hard stone or marble. My hands would make gravel out of the stone, no piece of art would be seen. If I attempted to mold clay into a recognizable shape, I would fail miserably.

I look at quilts that have been lovingly crafted as a piece of art or a special table runner that was woven in an intricate pattern. Those who work with textiles are artists to be admired.

A floral designer creates art of a different kind. Every day, she arranges living plant life--flowers, branches, leaves, ferns--into beautiful centerpieces.

But wait--writers are artists, too. We paint, we chisel, we weave with a different medium. Words! A good writer is most definitely an artist in her own field.  Several years ago, I wrote a poem for the Kansas Authors state contest theme category. The theme was Pen Life As Art. I thought about it for a long time before attempting to write anything. I finally wrote the following poem which won third place in the contest.

Artists All

Painting with oils,
watercolors brushed across canvas,
clay molded by loving hands,
marble chiseled to exquisite form

Artists ply their trade,
by the golden light of day
and velvet depths of night,
with passion and verve.

One more artist joins the rank.
The writer brushes words over paper,
molds a story bit by glittering bit,
chisels a novel to survive the ages.

The writer gathers life’s stories
from country roads to city streets,
written from the depths of a heart
bursting with intensity and rapture.

Artists all, masters of creation,
be they painters, sculptors or writers,
leaving footprints on canvas, marble and paper--
heartfelt tributes embraced by mankind.

For a writing exercise, use the theme Pen Life As Art and write a poem or prose.

Do you consider yourself an artist as well as a writer? Leave a comment and tell us what you think.