Melissa Miles McCarter's Open Salon Blog

Learning about dekaaz

Sat, 24 Mar 2012 01:03:16 -0400

Today, at the CCCC in St. Louis, I had the opportunity to learn about dekaaz from the inventor, Rachel Bagby. Simply put, dekaaz is a poetic form similar to haiku. The basic format of a dekaaz is ten syllables on three lines. The first line has two syllables, the second has three syllables, and the third and final line has five syllables. After you write your dekaaz, you are supposed to speak it to someone.

According to Rachel's own website, Dekaaz is…

a new poetic form
a wisdom-capturing channel
a game of wordplay + impromptu oration
a brainstorming trigger for divine inspiration
a portal to proverbs, power, or simply the Truth
you new favorite tool in the quest for expression

What I like about dekaaz is its function in invention. Part of composition studies' focus is on how we come up with ideas, what in this field is called invention. Writers often refer to this invention process as the "Eureka" experience. However, as anyone who struggles to come up with an idea knows, this "out of nowhere" process isn't very reliable. So, I like methods that allow for coming up with ideas in a more predictable fashion, such as in brainstorming, free-writing, or in starting with a topic. Dekaaz is another method that provides sparks for new ideas...

The nice thing about dekaaz is that it opens up the idea channel in our mind in a way that merges reason and emotion. You have to think poetically and succinctly at the same time. Haiku also does this, but the form itself is so part of common thought, I believe its form in itself doesn't generate as much surprise as the newer poetic form of dekaaz.

Okay, after all this, what does a dekaaz look like?

Here's an example with the syllables made apparant...

learn- ing

po-e-try

op-ens ma-ny minds

The neat thing about dekaaz is that the possibilities are endless--here's another example of a dekaaz...

music

moves her now

living beyond time

Again, each Dekaaz has ten syllables in three lines:

2 syllables in the first line, 3 syllables in the second, 5 syllables in the third

If you want to learn more, Rachel has a facebook page for dekaaz where you can see other people experimenting with the form and add your own dekaaz. I would love for people to leave their own dekaaz on my page or tweet it to @fatdaddysfarm with the hashtag #dekaaz

What's your

dekaaz poem

open saloners?

what's your literacy experience?

Fri, 23 Mar 2012 02:03:39 -0400

At the College Composition Conference in St. Louis this past week, I had the opportunity to record my own literacy experience. A literacy experience can involve writing, sharing writing, reading, or anything having to do with your own experience as a writer or participating in the writing process.

I picked the topic of one of my first literacy experiences to share in this project; I talked about writing poetry and songs for my parents when I was pre-school age. I didn't write very well then, so most of what I conceived of ended up being what I memorized and repeated to whoever would listen. I wanted to share my words because of how words made me feel--at that age, I was only reading picture books, but songs really spoke to me the most deeply as a literacy experience.

Now, as a graduate student in rhetoric and composition, as a writer of such books as "Insanity: A Love Story" , and as the a publisher of a small press, Fat Daddy's Farm, I have the opportunity to have a much larger literacy experience. But, I always remember my first opportunity to engage in the magic of words.

What's your literacy experience?

Book Excerpt & Giveaway

Thu, 8 Mar 2012 16:03:54 -0500

In the next month, Fat Daddy's Farm with be releasing an e-book version of "Insanity: A Love Story" --it is a memoir about dealing with the diagnosis of bipolar disorder and the hospitalization after a manic-induced psychosis--below is an excerpt from the book

Want to win a free copy? Check out this free giveaway.

from "Insanity: A Love Story"

I was always mercurial, moody and fickle. I came by this naturally, witnessing the mood shifts of members of my family, trying to cope with a world that seemed so intense I wanted to hide sometimes. I was the type of child who cried at my own birthday parties, overwhelmed by the crowd of people singing “Happy Birthday” to me while all I wanted to do was play with my new toys in peace. Every moment seemed larger in importance than anything, and my own mind either raced in high speed or trudged through the lows I felt I could never escape.

Born in 1975, in Houston, Texas, I moved to California when I was eleven years old. Already a severely introverted child, the move shifted me into the first depression I have the clearest memory of. I spent my first summer in the new and extreme brightness of the San Fernando Valley, feeling intense anxiety about the life I had left behind and the life I was about to have. I spent many hours obsessing over what could have been.

My Southern drawl separated me instantly from my new sun-kissed classmates and subjected me to attention anathema to my withdrawn nature. In Houston, I had been bright, but never considered an intellectual. Now, in my new school and my new large lensed glasses, my reputation as the smart one grew in proportion to my deepening sense of inadequacy.

One of the ways my insecurity exhibited itself was my longing for love. I was now an outsider in my new location, an experience I had never felt before in the middle class suburban life I had led in Texas. I might have been moody, but I always felt I belonged. In Houston, we had been comfortable, but now in California, the higher standard of living meant we could only live in a working class neighborhood. Gone were the ever-present room-mothers and well-employed fathers.

Now I felt untethered, not fitting in with anyone, and it set the stage for wanting to find a sense of rooted-ness in the relationships I would have later in life. My sense of self had been challenged, no longer shaped by the innocence of childhood—and I was to seek a foundation in my ability to have deep and intense connections within friendships and romantic interactions.

This desire to merge and find my identity in relationships, plus the fear I would never rid myself of the intense loneliness I felt in this new place, motivated me to later on leave high school a year early in 1996 and attend Scripps College, without a high school diploma and only to get a GED when I was a sophomore. This wasn't the result of some heroic ambition, but the desire to follow my then boyfriend, who was to attend a college in the same Claremont Colleges consortium. Just like any adolescence, I craved freedom, but I also had an ever-present desire to emerge myself in the safety romantic relationships could provide.

Unfortunately, this relationship ended after I had already been accepted by Scripps and had made a commitment to go to college. I could have stayed in high school and made a different, more solid, decision based on my own independent long-term goals. But I was already committed to the fantasy of freedom I saw in the collegiate experience and the possibility I might win my boyfriend back. My co-dependency desires continued, but this was not to be. Instead I was to enter into a grief induced cycle of depression and mania that would continue on for my whole freshman year.

During college was when my mood shifts seemed to be most apparent. Every semester I started out with the manic belief I could do anything and would enroll in five courses, an overload beyond the required four courses that only the most ambitious and confident would attempt. My overconfidence would not be sustained because the darkness would always be a moment away. By the end of each semester, in the depths of a predictable depression, I would have grades that were contradictory at best—one or two courses I would excel in, others I would have barely attended and barely passed, and one class I invariably would fail. These failures were always avoidable—I could have easily dropped these courses, but it would have meant interacting with the professor, seeking their signature, when I felt the most anxiety in my contact with people. I felt so ashamed of not being able to attain the goals I had set during my mania.

Thus, most courses had been peppered with absences, and I never signed up for classes before noon, the result of an increasing insomnia and crashing, numbing sleep I succumbed to at the first light on the morning sun. My freshman year was marked by the first time I ever went to a therapist at the mental health center on campus. Cognitive therapy was supposed to be my answer to everything, a vaccination against my mood shifts I couldn't even put into words. Eventually, I would give up therapy at the same time I fell in love with a senior who seemed to be the anti-thesis of me: stable, confident based on real accomplishments, and who I tried desperately to hide my flaws from. I was deeply in love with him and yet he didn't feel the same way. With each rejection, interspersed with a physical connection I had never felt before, my insecurity was nurtured. I felt like I was nothing if I wasn't in love. Soon after this ended, I met my next boyfriend, who I would be with off and on for the next five years. At first, we were inseparable and this relationship provided me with a way to mask my social anxiety and find a safe emotional haven for my moods. Soon enough, we danced the dance of rejection and intense melding of selves, chipping away at my delicate sense of self-worth.

This relationship precipitated my first manic-induced psychotic ending. We had a series of breakups and makeups before, but when the ending seemed the most definite, I cycled into the most disorienting depression I had ever experienced. Most of my dreams for the future had been tied to this relationship, and with its ending, I had no idea what I wanted to do. My long ago deeply held goals had been abandoned with the sense of purpose this relationship had given me. Without this emotional compass, I was adrift.

An interloping relationship, right before this psychotic break, would fuel an even deeper sense of insecurity. I clung to the fantasy that this new boyfriend would be an antidote to the deep loneliness and purposeless I felt at the time. Our courtship provided a band-aid to my wounded soul, but in the end would leave me broken and empty.

With that crushing disappointment, in a relationship that increasingly my poisoned my sense of self--

I couldn't exist anymore within reality.

Greetings from Chicago

Fri, 2 Mar 2012 22:03:18 -0500

Greetings from the AWP in Chicago-- for those who don't know, we are at the Association of Writers & Writing programs conference.

When we get back, I will convey all the lessons and advice I think you all might be interested in.

Here are some highlights so far:

Getting to see Nikki Giovani (poet @ Virginia Tech) read some of her poetry

Being in the audience for Margaret Atwood's keynote address at the wonderful auditorium at Roosevelt University (Atwood is one of my favorite authors--you might have heard her "Handmaid's Tale" novel). She was so charming and has a huge twitter following @margaretatwood

Getting to see Kate Hopper and others at a presentation on mothering and the writing process; Kate has expressed interest in reviewing our anthology (her website is http://motherhoodandwords.com) and is open to being interviewed on our blog.

Meeting one of our anthology contributors, Elynne Chaplik-Aleskow, and her husband, Richard, for a wonderful dinner at The Park Grill; look forward to her future interview on our blog and you can also see what a talented and interesting person and writer Elynne is. In addition, she gave great advice about marketing and promoting our book-- we are very grateful to her recent efforts to get a large number of "likes" on our facebook page. Btw, if you haven't already, come check out our page--and like and/or share it--at http://Facebook.com/fatdaddysfarm.org

If you haven't already, scroll down and check out the first contributor interviews of Nina and Ann and keep an eye out for more.

Please join us in getting the buzz going for our upcoming anthology and other efforts by following us via twitter @fatdaddysfarm -it is a great way to find out about our projects, giveaways and other info!

Take care,
Melissa

From Self-Publishing to creating a Small Press

Fri, 20 Jan 2012 23:01:07 -0500

Two years ago, I decided to self-publish my book, "Insanity: A Love Story" through the Createspace program, which allows writers to sell books via Amazon and Amazon's Kindle program. I considered other POD (publish on demand) programs, such as Lulu; however, these other programs didn't seem to be as attractive to me.

Using the Createspace process allowed me to have complete control over the process--from writing the book, creating the cover, doing the layout, creating an e-book version, and publicizing the book. It took some time to figure all this out, but I really enjoyed doing it. In fact, it was so enjoyable, I started to wonder if I would self-publish future books. My husband is also a writer, so we began to discuss how we might continue the self-publishing process.

Through my research during self-publishing, I discovered I could go beyond my original book project and set up my own small press. This was very attractive to me because I didn't just enjoy the writing process, but enjoyed all the elements of publishing--it would also allow me to continue to publish my own work, my husband's work, and, later on, other people's works, all in a streamlined fashion. Self-publishing involved a steep learning curve, and I wanted to put my newly learned skills to use.

Now, I am in the middle of editing an anthology, "Joy, Interrupted," about motherhood and loss, a project that works much better in the context of a small press, rather than self-publishing. Instead of using Createspace, a very user friendly medium for self-publishing, I am using Ingram's Lightning Source. Ingram is the publishing process for many larger presses, and allows you to be stocked via Amazon, other online bookstores like Barnes & Noble, and be available for order or to be stocked in bookstores all across the United States. However, Lightning Source isn't for the faint at heart--just getting set up with them involves many steps, and the actually publishing process isn't as user friendly as the Createspace program.

The creation of our small press has truly been a family affair--"Fat Daddy's Farm" was invented by my eleven year old (then 9) step-son as the moniker for our small homestead where we cultivate all sorts of vegetables and fruit. Our English Bulldog, Daisy, became our mascot and representative of "Fat Daddy's Farm" press (she looks more like a fat daddy than our much thinner bulldog, Boss Hog). It is also a brand my husband and I can collaborate on, something that is harder to do when self-publishing, and open up to new possibilities, such as releasing music from my husband's musical endeavors, such as a CD from his band, "Blackberry Jam."

Self-publishing involves so many rewards, letting a writer participate from conception to release of a book. For "Fat Daddy's Farm," self-publishing was the stepping stone for a dream we never knew we had and allows us to go beyond our original goal of becoming published writers.

Right now we are not accepting submissions, but we do plan on doing so in the future. If you want to stay up to date on our projects and when we do open up to submissions, our website is http://fatdaddysfarm.org -- or if you have any questions about "Fat Daddy's Farm," including more information about how we started, feel free to email us info@fatdaddysfarm.org

--Melissa Miles McCarter