
In
person, Kelly is even more impressive.
She blends the sharp vision of her poetry with warmth and grace. The combination of her skill, approachable
manner, and easy smile makes Kelly a popular Creative Writing professor at
Middle Georgia State University. Outside
of class, Kelly shares her Macon, Georgia, home with husband Steve, and they
are parents of three-year-old twins Evie and Finn.
I’m
pleased Kelly agreed to talk about writing and its place in her rich life. Even if you’re not a poetry-reader or writer,
you’ll be fascinated by what she has to say.
Many
of your poems connect stories from myth, folklore, movies, and even television
shows with hard details of ordinary life. Why do you find the intersection of these
elements so valuable in creating a poem?
KELLY: I’ve always been
fascinated by the role that stories play in our lives, whether they be family
stories passed down, religious stories, or the entertainment we fill our lives
with (movies, television, books, etc.).
I guess the endurance of certain stories and masterplots throughout time
also really captivates me, makes me think of the connections we have with those
who have come before us, and the cycles that are created and recreated. Narrative is not only something we generate
every day through the act of living and reiterating our actions (through
conversations, diaries, emails, texts, etc.), but something we engage with
every day, something that influences the decisions we make and the actions we
take. In a way, it seems impossible to
ever really separate art and reality, and I find myself returning to that theme
in my writing again and again. And
specifically considering the idea of marrying myth and folklore with the
details of ordinary life, I think the point is that even the things we think of
as ordinary are not ordinary at all.
They have power, and they are what make us and create our histories and
fuel our imaginations; they are what lead to folklore and myth.
What,
to you, is the most important thing a poem does?
KELLY: Illuminates, and I mean
that in several senses of the term.
Obviously, there is the idea of giving one knowledge but also the idea
of making something brighter, more striking, more stunning. I think the best poetry takes a small thing
and shines a light on the brilliant, disgusting, macabre, ephemeral, delicate,
transcendent aspects of that thing, so that you don’t just know
more about that thing, you feel more about
it.
What’s the biggest misconception people have about writing poetry?
KELLY: That’s easy: that it
should always rhyme. On a deeper level,
though, I think it would be the idea that there is one meaning to every poem,
and that meaning is whatever the poet intends it to be. Many students who first try writing poetry
can’t fathom that there can be multiple meanings, some of which the poet may
never have intended and may have never even seen in the poem. My best poems often seem more guided by my
subconscious than any plan I had in mind.
In fact, I don’t go into poems with a plan or a theme; I think that is the
surest way to destroy the poem’s potential.
I tell my students not to know what the poem is about before they start
writing it. Instead, they should
discover it along the way, let the poem speak to them as they are creating it.
You
wear many hats besides “poet,” including “professor,” “spouse,” and
“parent.” Do these different parts of
your life tend to come into conflict or enrich each other?
KELLY: Both. There are so many more things to write about
as you age and take on more roles, and there is so much less time to write
because of those responsibilities, it’s pretty paradoxical.
What’s
the most challenging part of writing poetry at this point in your life?
KELLY: Ha. See question 4 [the previous question]. J
What
is the most rewarding part of the writing process for you?
KELLY: Getting the writing
done, like any form of art, gives me a sense of wellbeing, as if I’m doing what
I should be doing, both in expressing myself, and in just recording things,
things from real life and from my imagination.
For me, creativity seems to give a point to life. When I was younger and had more time, I used
to call my mother every day to tell her about the day’s events, and when a
friend asked why I did this, I surprised myself by saying, “If I don’t share
with her what I did that day, it’s like it didn’t happen.” I’m so busy now with my own family, I only
get to talk to my mother about once a week, but I still think I have a similar
philosophy about writing: this sense that passing on what you did, what you
know, and what you’ve learned to someone else and using this process to help
make sense of it for yourself are the reasons you’re living.
Which
of your poems holds a special place in your heart?
KELLY: Oh, wow. That’s an interesting question because it’s
not asking which I like the best or think has the best use of imagery and
metaphor, and I don’t think I’ve ever asked myself this question before, but I
guess the poems that come from my parents’ experiences hold a special place for
me because they make me think of them.
There is one called “Thumbing for a Hitch” which came out of my father’s
experience of falling off the back of a truck onto a dirt road when he was
young, and his father knew he had fallen off the truck and just kept driving. I turned this into a serious poem that, for
me, is about a father who was strict and too hard on his kids, but when my dad
told me the story, it was actually funny.
You won’t see it in my book, but my father was a very funny guy. He passed away eight years ago, but this poem
makes me think of him and his joking personality.
Which of your poems thus far has been the most technically challenging to write?
KELLY: Probably the very last
one in The House Began to Pitch, and
I’m still not sure it’s finished. My
sister actually gave me the idea of writing about keys—the ones on your
keychain that have been there so long you don’t remember what they open. I thought it was an awesome idea, and as
someone who walks around for way too long with a set of keys that probably
weighs ten pounds, it seemed appropriate that I should write it. But, as I was saying earlier, poems seldom
come together well when you already know what they’re about before you start
writing them, so I struggled a good deal with getting that one right. In the end, I felt it worked really well as
the final work in this collection of poems that is about stories and
history. On it’s own, I still would like
to tinker with it.
Do
you have a favorite word?
KELLY: Reminds me of Inside
the Actor’s Studio J. I like any concrete word that has energy and
action and a little trouble to it, and if it has more than one meaning, all the
better. That’s why I like the word
“pitch” that is in the title of my book.
It has energy and darkness and can be used as an adverb, a noun, or a
verb, and has so many layers of meaning.
Also, curse words are great.
“Shit” and “fuck” are my favorite because they are so emphatic and
really get attention. I have a poem that
is more recent that I wrote about my husband called, “Bear Grylls Can Suck It,”
and it is by far my favorite title that I’ve ever written, not only because you
have the intrigue of writing about a reality TV survivalist with a funny name
but also because the sounds “suck it” are so emphatic and alive.
Why
write poetry? What does it offer to both
writer and reader?
KELLY: Poetry, like any form
of art, is a way to re-experience the world, a rendering of it, so that the
poem makes you stand back and see things in a new way; or pay attention to
things you would have ignored; or analyze, categorize, or explain things in a
way that makes you feel them. I write
and read poetry because it’s fun and it’s fascinating. It helps me learn things about myself and the
world around me.
If
you haven’t read Kelly’s poetry, you need to.
If you want to learn more about writing, you can’t do better than to
check out her classes, many of which are also offered online.
Kelly Whiddon is a poet and
Associate Professor at Middle Georgia State University. She holds a Ph.D. in Creative Writing from
Florida State University. Winner of the
2011 Adrienne Bond Award for Poetry for The
House Began to Pitch, her work is featured in the anthologies Writing on Napkins at the Sunshine Club
and The Southern Poetry Anthology: Volume
V: Georgia, as well as in literary magazines such as Crab Orchard Review, Poetry International, Meridian, Spoon River Poetry
Review, Southern Poetry Review, and Slipstream.

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