by Sarah Tieck

Confession time. I’m writing to you about organization, but there are dishes in the sink, waiting to go into the dishwasher. There’s a pizza box on the counter. Clothes are folded, but not put away. I’ve got miscellaneous papers in a basket, needing to be put … well, somewhere, and not too long ago, I misplaced a contract and a check. I’m not a hoarder or a slob. I’m a creative person in the thick of several deadlines.

There is no such thing as getting organized once and for all. Instead, learn to manage the flow of your creative life by harvesting the abundance of ideas, words, and other types of inspiration. This supports you in using your creative gifts and sharing your voice with the world—and, as with nature, provides the seeds and nourishment for your next project.

by Patricia Weaver Francisco

My mother and my brother had a running battle about the existence of what she called “true facts,” a species fundamentally different from its less glamorous, less noteworthy cousin, the fact. A true fact is a slippery character, she was first to admit, but she knew one when she saw it. My brother countered that a fact is a fact is a fact because a fact is simply true. A true fact makes no more sense than a near miss, he’d say, calmly claiming victory. Ah, my mother would smile, my point exactly. A miss and a near miss are entirely different matters . . .

by Emily Brisse

My girlfriends and I have a Christmas tradition: we exchange ornaments, and after, we verbally unpack our individual years, one by one, no time restrictions. The only rule we adhere to is that for every low, there must be two highs.

It is August now, months away from ornaments and tinsel, but one full year since I finished my MFA degree, and I feel the same tendencies today to look back and evaluate as I usually do at the close of a calendar. So, will you be my listeners here? My non-sweater-clad friends? All I ask is that you mumble a few hmmms, perhaps nod once in a while. After all, we’ve each experienced the ups and downs of something, right?

by Jodell Thorsett

One of my first activities upon moving to Minneapolis was finding volunteer opportunities, to put down roots in my new hometown and form instant connections to people with similar interests. As an aspiring theater critic, I was especially drawn to the rich and multilayered arts scene, with everything from regional stars like the Guthrie, Walker, and Institute of Arts, to daring experimenters at the Fringe Festival. Minneapolis-Saint Paul consistently rates first in volunteerism among large US cities. This year’s National Volunteer Week was April 10–16, but any time is the perfect time to explore the treasure trove of local volunteer offerings, and do inestimable good for others and yourself.

by Mark Herwig

In the Office

My thoughts are lucid and streaming free, imagining the events of last November on the prairies of west-central Minnesota. I’ve just finished writing a feature for Pheasants Forever magazine. I’m pouring on the color, the things that set our readers on fire about the volunteer work they do for wildlife habitat conservation.

I am happy with what has been put down on (electronic) paper. It’s a mind rush to write creatively, to see the images, feelings, and thoughts of others take shape as a cohesive tale. To celebrate wrapping up this particular “masterpiece,” I crank the volume of a favorite song, “Road to the Faire” by David Arkenstone.

by Jim Lenfestey

Thoreau Returns to Minnesota: Gary Snyder to Read in Minneapolis April 18.

California poet and essayist Gary Snyder is commonly associated with the Beat Generation. Nothing could be further from the truth. Yes, he read at the famous Six Gallery gathering in 1955 in San Francisco, along with Philip Whalen, Michael McClure, Philip Lamantia, and Allen Ginsberg, who read from an early draft of Howl. The event was hosted by Kenneth Rexroth and helped spark the San Francisco Renaissance. Yes, Snyder was a friend of novelist Jack Kerouac, who visited him in Marin County and modeled his entrancing Dharma Bums character, Japhy Ryder, on Snyder.

(Part I of this article was published on March 14, 2011)

by James Cihlar

Revising for Publication: Books

Now that you’ve generated individual poems, have used the tools of a writing buddy and writing group, and have tried some of the simple revision approaches discussed in Part I of “Entering the Sweepstakes: The Optimistic Approach to Revision,” it’s time to think about how your poems might all fit together in a book. Unless you are Adrienne Rich, simply putting together in sequence the poems you’ve written over a period of time is not going to be enough to hold a book together. A poetry book should be greater than the sum of its parts. However, it’s also possible to stray too far in the other direction, the themed poetry book, where every piece adheres to an overarching conceit; these can end up feeling forced and gimmicky.

by Sarah Tieck

The tiny snowflakes falling in golden light remind me of a snow globe. Waves of ice cascade over the roof’s edge, curling like an ocean stingray. Even as I notice the beauty and whimsy, this winter seems endless—especially as I stare at a particularly ironic yard sign that presides over an icy snowbank, screaming Grow!

by Idris Goodwin

Almost every weekend I pack a suitcase with my books, CDs and flyers, drive a few hours to a community college or bookstore, set up my little table and commence to running my mouth. I am the hip hop version of Willy Loman. People want to know: What you do, would you call it rap? Are they monologues? Is it slam? What is it?

Calling it “a hybrid of spoken word, hip hop poetics, and creative memoir” doesn’t make it much easier. To be honest, there isn’t a short but all encompassing answer, so I invented one. The following essay, “Break Beat Poetry,” from my debut collection These Are The Breaks (Write Bloody Publishing) prose and essays on hip hop culture and race in America, explains just what the heck I do.

an excerpt from These Are The Breaks

When Bronx DJs performed for neighborhood block parties in the early 70s, they discovered how to extend the instrumental “breakdown” section of a record. When looped, these free-flowing breakdowns – dubbed break beats – served as the audio stage on which dancers and MCs “got loose” or “styled.”10

Birthed from the intersection of Afro Latin, Latin jazz, be bop jazz, hard bop, hard rock, rock and roll, rhythm and blues, blue-eyed soul and German computer music, break beats are true poly-cultural relics. All electronic music, from rap to house to techno, drum and bass, utilize the cyclical flow of a break beat.

by Jim Heynen

My favorite definition of the word “loft” is  “a room or space over a stable or barn, used especially for storing hay or straw.” I do much of my work in a writing studio at the Loft. Maybe the space aligns with my farm boy roots because the unadorned room reminds me of the quiet privacy of a haymow. It’s a physical space that puts me in a good headspace to write. I also like knowing that people in adjacent studios are quietly at work too. I don’t feel that I’m competing with them; it’s more like parallel play, parallel ruminating.