In relation to understanding the connection in my life between writing and design, I was inspired to read a comparison of the craft of writing to the craft of design in David Wroblewski’s “The Construction of Human-Computer Interfaces Considered as a Craft” from Taking Software Design Seriously. This was required reading for our seminar 2 class.

There seems to be a connection between the writing process and design process (Wroblewski’s references John Gardner’s The Art of Fiction and Bill Strickland’s On Being a Writer). This connection has surfaced in other readings as well, especially those we read last semester for Richard Buchanan.

Creating a piece of good writing is a wicked problem: an ambiguous problem with a solution that cannot practically be found or measured. A good idea and some words thrown on paper will not necessarily generate a strong piece of writing, just like a good idea or some applied technology will not necessarily result in a product that connects with users.

Both are iterative processes. Almost always, a strong piece of writing is not the first thing written. Similarly, even if you frame the problem well and have solid research, the first idea for a solution will likely not be the final design.

In On Being a Writer, John Steinbeck says (Wroblewski uses this quote):

Although it must be a thousand years ago that I sat in a class on story-writing at Stanford. I remember the experience very clearly. I was bright-eyed and bushy-brained and prepared to absorb the secret formula for writing good short stories, even great short stories. This illusion was canceled very quickly. The only way to write a good short story, we were told, is to write a good short story. Only after it is written can it be taken apart to see how it was done.

This fits nicely with our graduate study program in design, whereby we are really only given guidance and tools to create a good design and an environment to evaluate the designs we have created. Though we are not, and cannot be, given the secret formula for creating good design.

However, maybe that’s how it works for a lot of things. There is no formula for success. No secret to happiness. Life, it may be argued, is like the process of design or the process of writing. The end is ambiguous, and there are multiple solutions for the same problem. The only way to live life is to live life. Only after can we see how it was done.

Why I write poetry is a question I’ve been asking myself since I started writing during senior year of high school. Recently I’ve been reconsidering the question.

What compels me fill a blank sheet of paper with ragged lines of rhyme, alliteration, assonance, and meter? Of all writing, why did I choose poetry?

This post is an attempt to answer these questions.

Compulsion

“Compulsion” is a word that I keep coming back to as I consider my answer. In a sense, I don’t feel like I made a choice to write poetry. It happened. And then it kept happening. And I felt compelled to keep writing. There was a bunch of stuff fluttering against the windows of my mind like trapped birds trying to get out. One day I opened a window.

It was this compulsion that resulted in me writing poems during my calculus lectures when I was supposed to be learning to be an engineer. And the same compulsion led to me switching to English Writing as a major, not because it made sense, but because it seemed that’s what I was inclined to do.

My Past Self Weighs In

This weekend, I stumbled upon an old journal. A few entries in, my past self offered this explanation as to why I write poetry:

I write poems cos¹ they’re quick
You can tell a little story
And then bang!
Like an orgasm
It’s over.

—June 22, 1999

1 “cos” instead of “because” was a phase I went through.

Here’s another bit I found:

What inspires me to write poetry?
The answer’s unknown—a curiosity.
Maybe it’s a love of words
Or the cleverness of a phrase.
Maybe I have nothing better to do
When I wish to fill my days.

—September 30, 1999

I included these because they show a history of me trying to answer the same question that I am trying to answer now, and for the uncanniness of their surfacing during the very weekend I planned to tackle the question.

In a Nutshell (why not eggshell?)

I can only speculate why the compulsion exists. But I believe it’s the coming together of my interests and tendencies, that when considered in whole, make poetry a likely vehicle.

First, I have a natural interest in words, both how they are used to express ideas and their etymology. I am also intrigued by ideas, and have a passion for exploring ideas to whatever end, no matter how ridiculous, and a proclivity for turning words, phrases, and ideas upside down.

I enjoy sharing my ideas, knowledge, and experience. And while I struggle with the inherent egotism of writing with the idea that my words have the merit to affect others, that is in fact one of the reasons I write. It’s one of my ways of trying to make meaningful connections with the rest of the humans.

Writing poetry is also a way for me to explore myself. There’s an inexplicable mysticism to writing and making permanent passing thoughts that amazes me (actually, stringing together words in any form of communication is an amazing feat if you think about it, especially when you consider how often you don’t think about it). Countless times I have read my poems and wondered where they came from. So it’s a way for me to tap into parts of myself that I don’t know exist, and perhaps help me to better understand the complexity of my humanity.

Finally, when it comes to writing, I am lazy. Novels seem daunting. Even the short stories I have written were a chore. Blog posts can be a bitch. So poetry has the appeal of brevity.

It may not be all encompassing, but that’s pretty much why I write poetry. And as long as I feel I have something to share, and something within myself to explore, I hope to keep writing.

I was talking to a friend recently about professional money-making pursuits versus artistic pursuits. During this conversation, I mentioned my poetic roots. She asked if I still write, because I never talk about poetry.

I could easily write a book about my history with poetry, as it is connected in some way to everything I?¢‚Ǩ‚Ñ¢ve done since high school. But for the sake of brevity, I’ve decided to be…um…brief.

In the Beginning

I started writing poetry my senior year of high school in the form of random notes to my friends. I would try to think of the most bizarre relationships and metaphors and intertwine them with actual letters that were supposed to say something. They were pretty nonsensical, but fun. And my friends seemed to enjoy my ramblings.

I also started to find Shakespeare more interesting. I really got into Hamlet, and for an English class writing assignment I wrote a couple sonnets that turned out well considering my inexperience. And I got a positive response from my teacher.

From Engineering to Poetry

My freshmen year of college I studied engineering Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. During calculus class I would write poems. I took this as a sign and dropped engineering, transferred to the University of Pittsburgh, and took up English Writing as a degree, with a concentration in poetry.

I did well in my poetry workshops, and my instructors were supportive. And I provided decent feedback to my peers. I tried not to worry about the lack of poetry jobs in the help wanted ads.

Getting Paid (very little) to Write

After I graduated, I got an internship with United Press International (UPI) writing wire stories. This made me feel like a real writer. I wrote a couple political satire poems that were published in the now defunct Gridlock & Load online magazine. I also started writing a lot more short fiction, which I also studied in college.

I got a job with a weekly newsletter after UPI, but burnt out pretty quickly. I didn?¢‚Ǩ‚Ñ¢t like writing for other people. Lucky for me, I found a job as a web producer, and outside of work focused on my poetry.

Lots of Poems, Only Rejections

My plan was to make writing a daily habit. I figured the more I wrote, the better I would become. I woke up early each morning and wrote at least two poems before work. While this made me very prolific, I produced a lot of bad poems and didn?¢‚Ǩ‚Ñ¢t have time to edit them so they stayed bad.

Using the Poet?¢‚Ǩ‚Ñ¢s Market, I identified small publications that might accept my work. All I got were rejection letters. So after a year of two poems a day, I took a break.

My creative energy was then split between a new writing project?¢‚Ǩ‚Äùscreenwriting?¢‚Ǩ‚Äùand web design. But I still wrote poems, just less frequently.

So I Married a Poet

Yes, it?¢‚Ǩ‚Ñ¢s true. We were introduced because we both liked poetry, and I proposed through a poem. However, overall she did not like my poetry, and did not think I was a true poet or understood poetry. Because of this, I didn?¢‚Ǩ‚Ñ¢t write much while we were together. And go figure, it didn?¢‚Ǩ‚Ñ¢t work out.

My Latest Efforts

A few months ago I was invited to participate in a project developed by an old friend called 200words. It involves writing a 200-word or less piece based on a given one-word topic. The two topics I have responded to thus far are circus and infection. Both entries are poems.

So yes, I still write, albeit not that often. But it’s hard to imagine that I’ll ever completely stop. Why? That’s a question for another post.

Blogger’s block seems to be abound these days. It’s strange how patterns form.

Earlier today I read A Realistic Chat About Design Process and wanted to say that part of what Keith Robinson (of Blue Flavor) says there is the post I attempted to write last night, but was too tired.

But when going back to his site, I confronted a new post about how he plans to scrap his blog and start from scratch. Two prime reasons for this move include:

I’ve been suffering from writer’s block.
I’m blogging more and writing less. I don’t like that.

And that got me thinking. Are we going to reach a critical mass with blogging, where people stop blogging, because it’s too much, either in the amount of time needed to blog, or in the amount of information it adds to the already seemingly exponential growth of information that is easily available?

I never thought I’d write some much about blogging, but like I said earlier, it’s strange how patterns form. Just last month I wrote about why people blog.

And I think some of the points I made could be coming to fruition. Everyone is jumping on the blogging wagon. Even so, at the same time others are starting to question their blogging—even those who have been on it for quite a while. Given the time it takes to write decent content, it seems like a matter of time before people start jumping off and doing something else.

What will that something else be?

What would I be doing right now if I wasn’t blogging? Man, I feel like I wrote about this in my previous post. (How many times can I link to myself?)

I can definitely relate to Keith’s dilemma and decision, especially since I recently moved operations from Wanton Spirit to this site. He’s talking about doing almost the exact thing I did. I’m not sure what mystery I’m trying to solve, but by golly if a lot of evidence and coincidence isn’t stacking up.

I can also relate to his comment of blogging versus writing. After SXSW, I nearly wrote a post daily, mostly because I was inspired, and partly because I had a butt load of notes. But this got me to thinking I should blog every day. However, if I force myself to do that, I know my posts will not be of as much value than if I blog when I truly have something to say, and the time to say it. So in effect, I am posting, or blogging, but not really creating good content.

So I’ve been thinking that I should not force myself to blog.

There is a balance of course, because I don’t want to be so absent as to cause my faithful readers (joke between me, myself, and my other self) to forget about me. But more and more I’m beginning to realize that I have a full-job and a side business and a social life and blogging has to play nicely with all of that for me to be happy. And I can’t stress out if I don’t post every day.

I thought about the move from Wanton Spirit to jamin.org for nearly a year before I made the decision that I wanted to have a site that was more reflective of me, and closer to me. I advise Keith that while blogging and blogger’s block can be frustrating, perhaps instead of closing shop, he should take a break. Think about it for a while (unless, of course, he already has), and then make a decision.

(Though part of me relishes a more reckless approach.)

He’s got some great posts, one of which I was going to talk about tonight. And another that ultimately inspired this post. If he stops blogging, he will be missed. But to reiterate a point I made a few weeks ago, you don’t have to have a blog. Whether you share your thoughts or not, life will go on.