Category: Essays

What’s in a Name?

~ speedwayjoesguide ~ Leave a comment

               When I first wrote “The Big Freeze,” I didn’t think all that much of it. It seemed too fast and easy, and it was built on an obvious and already overused play on “Waiting for Godot.” But there was something there, so I posted it on my Facebook page—sans title, as I hadn’t come up with one yet. In time though, the short rhyme grew on me—I liked its simplicity, and there was a sense of melancholy I enjoyed. But I still didn’t see that much in it beyond someone whose day was not going to plan.

            Everything I post on speedwayjoe.com gets a title, so when it came time, I very quickly and without much thought came up with “The Big Freeze,” which seemed obvious given the state of the theater mentioned within. And as soon as I did, I saw a double meaning in the text that I hadn’t noticed before: “The Big Freeze” referred to both the extreme weather that closed the theater, and the speaker getting stood up by his celebrity date—each event potentially a metaphor for the other. Just like that, my harmless little schoolyard rhyme felt a bit deeper and more deliberate, with almost no extra effort required.

               Without its title, “Money Isn’t Everything” poses the question where is Tiffany? The title then creates more possibilities by suggesting that Tiffany’s whereabouts—or the speaker’s perception of such—might somehow be tied to ideas about wealth or materialism. This makes for interesting discussion; I have a few ideas about what may have become of our heroine, and others have posed more that never occurred to me. I find this to be one of the most fun and rewarding parts of the process—so please post your Tiffany theories in the comments!

               Finally, “The Isolation of Ron” is a simple description of a contrarian who may or may not be going out of his way to irritate people. But the title adds information that immediately poses a question not present in the text: why is Ron isolated? I have my ideas, of course, but I’d rather hear yours.

               So, give some thought to your titles. The right title can illuminate hidden meaning and complexity, creating a more engaging and satisfying experience for your reader. Just ask Tiffany—if you can find her.

On Influence or Mr. Silverstein, I Presume?

~ speedwayjoesguide

            I have no idea when or why I started writing the sort of silly rhymes you’ll find on this site—as far as I can tell they go back at least to 2010, though I suspect even further than that. Whenever it was, at some point I began posting my “Little Poems” on Facebook, and after a time my friend Claire (who is, in fact, “way out there”) made comparisons to Shel Silverstein in some of her comments to those posts. I knew the name, of course, but I had forgotten why, and it was only recently that I remembered hearing some of his comedic readings on The Dr. Demento Show ages ago. And I had heard of “The Giving Tree,” but had no distinct recollection of having read it. But I figured I should look Shel up, seeing as Claire was quite emphatic about the similarity, so eventually I purchased three of his illustrated books of poetry which I’ve read and enjoyed quite a bit.

            I would never claim to be in the same league as one of the greats (not publicly, anyway), but there are clearly general similarities between my rhymes and at least some of Mr. Silverstein’s—although a close look will reveal distinct differences in feel and subject matter. There are also structural differences—his rhythmic and rhyming schemes are often looser, and many of his poems are quite a bit longer than mine tend to be. This got me thinking that I should loosen up a bit and try some new approaches, for variety’s sake. So, reading Shel Silverstein’s poetry expanded the possibilities for me—built a bigger stage in my mind, as it were.

            But for a brief time—a few days or a week, perhaps—I fell into the trap of trying to do what the other guy is doing. I went beyond the larger, generic lessons learned, and let myself take too-specific cues from Shel’s work—things like subject matter, feel, device, etc.—which inevitably led to uninspired and disingenuous results. You know when you’re committing this artistic sin because it just feels wrong.

            To overstate it a bit, the path back from the brink was indistinct and messy. It was like changing your golf grip or taking the training wheels off your bicycle. Others have helped you build the bigger stage, but you still have to find yourself on it. And that just comes down to effort, like any other part of the creative process. You try something, it doesn’t work. Try something else, it doesn’t feel right. But sooner or later, you’ll hit something that does both—and now you’re on your way to a solution.

            So, what’s the takeaway from my brief literary misadventure? Trust your gut…if it feels wrong, it probably is. I think Shel would agree.