Richard LeDue : part five

How do you know when a poem is finished?

The short answer would be when a poem is accepted for publication. Unless there's a typo, I won't change a poem after that. I know some writers are constantly editing and revising, but that just isn't my style. My own approach is to do most of my editing at the computer as I type a poem. There has been times that I wrote something earlier in the week and when I type it up, I decide it isn't worth sending out as part of a submission. These poems will usually go into a word file and sit for awhile. Sometimes, I'll revisit these poems if they match a theme for a submission, or if I remember to go back to them. I am a terrible poem abandoner. If a poem also gets rejected 3-4 times, I'll often let it sit for awhile. Again, sometimes I come back to these poems, edit them and resubmit, but there have been many poems left to rot on my hard drive. Because I try to write so much, I try not to dwell on poems that can't find a home right away. There have been some pieces that I actually quite liked, but I've let sit or are still sitting because of multiple rejections. These poems might be edited some day, so it would be unfair to call theme “finished.”

Richard LeDue : part four

When you require renewal, is there a particular poem or book that you return to? A particular author?

I've read almost every Charles Bukowski poetry book, and I always return to him. My favourite Bukowski book would be Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame. Although I think Purdy and Atwood have better command of language than Bukowski, he just knocks me over sometimes with a line or an image. An example of this would be the poem, “True Story,” which is about a man who disfigured himself. Somehow, Bukowski turns the poem into a great story of sympathy, but not just for the man in the poem, but for all of humanity. Then there's “the tragedy of the leaves,” which reeks of humanity and our inevitable failures that come with age. This sort of connection, even if focused on a dark side of people, resonates with me. 

The other reason Bukowski is a poet I often reread is because he wrote so many bad poems. Some of his later books are collections of poems that his editor kept over the years. These books do have some gems, but there are also some that don't do much more than fill a page. Bukowski's bad poems, however, remind me that not everything I write has to be perfect. This idea is actually quite freeing for any type of artist.

Richard LeDue : part three

What other poetry books have you been reading lately?

I finished The Woman on the Shore by Al Purdy in December. This was Purdy's second last book, but he still had a potency with words that makes me envious. I also read one of his older books, “Wild Grape Wine,” back in November. That was my favourite Purdy book I've read so far. A lot of it is about Purdy's life in Ontario sixty years ago, and I find it fascinating reading about his views (political and otherwise) on life in the 1960s. It contains one of my favourite Purdy poems, “Interruption,” which is about him and his wife's new house in rural Ontario, but also deals with humanity's place within nature. 

Another book I finished recently was Dearly by Margaret Atwood. Some of this book is about Atwood dealing with the loss of her longtime partner, Graeme Gibson. Whenever Atwood writes about relationships, she's at her best. The sadness and sense of loss in this book actually slowed me down reading it (but in a good way). That is one of the strengths of poetry, however, the way it can convey emotion so much more succinctly than prose. Atwood's also a master at language, so I always learn something whenever I read one of her poetry books. 

Richard LeDue : part two

What poets changed the way you thought about writing?

The three most influential poets for me would be Charles Bukowski, Al Purdy and Margaret Atwood. All three made me realize how you can really write about anything, whereas before I always thought a poem needed some measure of epicness to it. An example of this in my own writing would be my poem “The North is No Place For Love,” which was literally written from me watching a leafless tree sway outside my classroom window during a lunch break. It dives into the idea of the fragility of new love, but I don't think I could have written this poem without starting out with just the simple image of a naked tree.

Of the three, I've probably read Bukowski the most, but that's due to a lot of Atwood's and Purdy's older poetry books being out of print. Both Purdy and Atwood are giants in Canadian poetry, but they also changed the way I thought about being a Canadian poet. In school, we mostly focused on the “greats,” such as Shakespeare, the Romantics, the Victorians, and while they were immensely skilled writers, I find I relate more to contemporary subject matter. I actually beamed with pride when I discovered an old Purdy poem a couple of months ago called “Three Thousand.” It was written about the steel plant my father worked in in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia. That poem made me realize the connection poetry can create, and how potent that is within any country. As well, Atwood's The Journals of Susanna Moodie is as valuable as any history textbook when trying to discuss Canadian identity, and showed me how one can write about the past without it sounding like the past.

Richard LeDue : part one

Richard LeDue was born in Sydney, Nova Scotia, Canada, but currently lives and teaches in Norway House, Manitoba. His poems have appeared in various publications throughout 2019 and 2020, and more work is forthcoming throughout 2021. His chapbook, The Loneliest Age, was released in October 2020 from Kelsay Books.

What are you working on?

I write every day. What makes poetry so appealing to me is that it's a type of writing you can work on for twenty minutes and get something done. I dabbled in short story writing this past summer, and found I needed larger chunks of time to accomplish what I wanted to do. However, I've written poems while my son has had the TV volume turned to maximum and is dancing in the middle of the living room. Because of poetry's versatility, I send out at least one submission a week (usually on the weekend). So in a sense, I am always working on something. As I write this, I have twenty submissions I am waiting to hear back on. I also have three different chapbook manuscripts submitted to publishers. Ever since I had my first chapbook published, The Loneliest Age, I've had a strong desire to have another book published. My approach has lead to a lot of publication, but also to a lot of rejection. However, rejection is just part of writing.