GloPoWriMo and Spring Cleaning

The holiday weekend has been bliss. I put aside anything I had to do except a first aid online course and just focussed on what I wanted. I tidied toy boxes with the kids, I worked on my puzzle, crocheted, did yoga, some shopping and loads of writing. I should have spent more time outside as it finally feels like spring is here, but I'm not going to beat myself up because I didn't. There were things that I wanted to do inside, so I did them. There's still snow on the ground here, so I can't get into the digging the garden mode yet, so I'm happy to wait. 

Week 1 of GloPoWriMo, the Global Poetry Writing Month, and I've managed something every day. Sometimes a whole poem comes, sometimes just notes. Some of the notes have been used in other poems. some will just decay as compost. I've used a mixture of the NaPoWriMo website's daily prompts and ideas from other places. One poem was inspired by a 6th-grade maths lesson I was in. I hope I didn't look like I was fangirling while taking notes. 

Today I have an online write-along booked with Jen Hadfield. It seems strange to write silently with other writers on a Zoom call. We don't interact except at the check-ins at the beginning and end. We don't share what we've written, and many turn off their camera and mic while writing. It's the booking time with other writers, with the muse to write and the shared activity. Others are with me, struggling to put words on the page, finding the gentle pressure to produce. It does inspire me somehow. 

I just hope something will pop into my mind when I sit down to write as at the moment even with a bunch of prompts in my head I'm drawing a blank. That's often how it works, everything percolates in my skull until I start randomly writing and then somehow it comes together. I see a thread and start tugging on it until the beginning of a poem unravels beneath my hand. Other times I write complete crap, but that's the risk. 

I'm feeling the need to go through my big electronic pile of poems and take out the stuff I really don't like. I could work on fixing them, but some might just be binned. Maybe my style has changed so that I can't see what I like about them before. I've never been one for binning or burning my old poems, my notebooks, my childhood scribbles, but I do put them aside and stop working on them. 

Maybe I need to do a radical version of that. Create a new file of just the poems I currently love, that I want to find a home for, that fit in a collection. Maybe more than one file then, as some I love have already been published. Some have collections where they fit, while others don't. 

This seems to be a symptom of my current spring cleaning fit, not guddling in toyboxes for the broken toys, those who aren't played with anymore, but in poetry files. That's my day planned.