A question I’ve been asked over and over again since my novel in verse came out is, why poetry?
I didn’t always write this way.
I didn’t even know novels in verse existed until a few years ago when I participated in a verse novel challenge on Caroline Starr Rose’s blog. Her debut, MAY B., was about to be released and she was excited to introduce her blog readers to the genre. The challenge she gave was for each of us to read five verse novels.
I started with Karen Hesse’s OUT OF THE DUST. And I was hooked.
You can tell you’re hooked on verse when simply walking around your house, a place you inhabit every day, gives rise to inspiration. Verse swirled in my head. Every detail became a poem. If I dared step outside, the words only bubbled faster.
That’s the thing about poetry. It’s life and detail and metaphor. Not complicated at all.
Perhaps I always thought like a poet, though I didn’t realize it. I give all the credit to my mother. When I was a child, she matched my steps. Outside, we’d stop to linger over a flower, watch the slow crawl of a centipede across our path. When I became a teenager, her fascination with detail irritated me. I had places to go! My mom always seemed to be ten steps behind, calling after me, “Amy, look at this!”~ read more ~