![A Beautiful Thought](https://media1.bendsource.com/bend/imager/u/blog/21440044/culture1-1-c0d9c20886c18a93.jpg?cb=1720030543)
"I forget what I've cried
over where I've left
my blood in this world."
over where I've left
my blood in this world."
-Broderick Eaton "the salt we leave behind," finalist for the 2023 Crosswinds Poetry Prize
Truly great poetry grows in the mind and can change how you view yourself and the world. As an art form, it hasn't received the respect it deserves in a long time, sometimes seeming like only a poet or two per generation gets widely-enough read to become a part of the cultural conversation. Oregon poet and author Broderick Eaton is a stunning writer whose words conjure the primal eternality of nature as well as the intimate intensity of being human.
As the recipient of the Sixfoold Poetry Prize, the Orison Books Anthology Prize in Non-Fiction, the Scribes Valley Fiction Prize, the Source Weekly/OSU Cascades MFA Poetry Prize and a Book Fest Award, Eaton has become a part of that cultural conversation. The Source had a chance to chat with Eaton ahead of her Aug. 16 publication of her new poetry book, "the under story."
Source Weekly: Can you tell me a little about your history as a poet and a writer? Tell me about your awards!
Broderick Eaton: I played around with creative writing on my own in high school here in Bend, but never really thought about pursuing it in college. During my freshman year at Sweet Briar, my dorm RA showed some of my poems to the college's writer in residence, who then called me to see if I wanted to meet and talk about my work. It was too late to sign up for a class that fall, so I ended up just going in on my own once a week to study privately with that poet...who happened to be Mary Oliver. I still can't fathom the luck or divine intervention or whatever you want to call it that led me to that life-altering moment. I studied with her for two years, then with author John Gregory Brown for another two years. I didn't have much life experience at that point that left me with a whole lot to say, so I didn't write for a long time after graduating.
SW: And then?
BE: After my father passed, the creative tap suddenly burst open as a way to process that loss. The foundation laid from those intensive studies with incredible writers in college gave me the framework to take what I was processing and turn it into something that I thought other people might identify with. The Source's inaugural poetry contest opened the gate to getting my work published, and since then I completed a master's in writing.
SW: Do you sit down every day to write poetry like it's work or do you wait for inspiration?
BE: I do make time every day to write, even if it's just to sketch some notes or lines that drifted to mind while I was doing something else. The most important thing Mary Oliver counseled me to do is to make a date with my muse and to never, ever let her (the muse) down. She told me that once my muse trusted that I would show up reliably, she would begin to speak, imparting gifts from wherever creative inspiration comes from. She was absolutely right! I'm not one of those marvels who decides to write a poem and sits down to make it happen; my inspiration is highly organic in nature and might take some patience to tease from the muse, but the wait is always worth it if I stay out of the way and just let the poem happen in its own time. A brilliant line will float past my consciousness, and if I don't immediately write it down, it disappears forever. I learned the hard way that my muse tosses out fleeting gifts and I have to be ready to catch them. I'll have little scraps of paper and notes in my phone as a poem arrives in dribs and drabs that I can eventually pull into something workable. This process has taught me patience I never knew possible and is one of the richest parts of my life. It's just generally pretty messy until the very end!
SW: What do you think is still so profoundly important about poetry in 2024?
BE: Poetry might be more critical today than ever before. It allows us to express things we might not know how to say in any other way. Whether reading it or writing it, the study of line turn or word choice is an opportunity to still the body and mind in a chaotic world. Traditional poetry holds its value in discipline and structure, and current poetry pushes the boundaries of expression and poetic form. There is no wrong way to do it, and that's a beautiful thought all by itself.
SW: What would you
recommend to someone that is trying to share their poetry with the world but
doesn’t know how to reach others?
BE: The majority of
publishers and agents don't work with poets these days because poetry simply
doesn't make money like fiction and non-fiction do. However, indie publishers
will consider poetry collections, and some publishers like Finishing Line Press
specialize in poetry and push a lot of books out to make up for smaller sales.
For individual poems, there are bunches of contests and journals out there, and
there truly is a home for every type of poem — it's just a matter of finding
it. Poets & Writers is a great resource to find these. On the local level,
there are frequent open mics in our community and I've found that they are
always welcoming and supportive of every reader.
SW: Your work has such
a gorgeous specificity to the language, but a universality to the humanist
truths. Is poetry as an art form still one of the only mediums that can achieve
this?
BE: I think any form of
art can represent both the artist and the audience, and maybe even some
universal truths about ourselves. Music and poetry are both really good at
eliciting an emotional response, frequently through familiarity or
shared experiences like love and pain. I happen to paint with
words, and I like to draw the reader's attention to the natural world
around us. There always seems to be a parallel that pops up between our cycles
as humans and seasonal changes in the larger world. What I put on the page
is what I want to say or what I'm trying to communicate to the reader or to
make the reader feel, but half of the equation of success is what the reader
brings to it. Maybe that's where universality comes in — human or tree, family
or river, we all encounter change and loss, we will all face an end, and there
is a beautiful journey along the way if only we pay attention. I put the words
on the page, and the reader brings recognition or appreciation to complete the
loop. I love to do this through the precision of poetry because of the intimacy
between the poet and the reader, but I think it's also possible in longer
prose and in other forms of art.
SW: Is there anything
else you would like to add?
BE: I would like to
encourage anyone who aspires to write to just sit down and do it, even if
just for a few minutes at a stretch. Even if it never goes anywhere. I spent
way too long being afraid of what people would think, how they might
respond to my work. I wasn't ready for the rejection that is a huge part of
submissions. I struggled with not getting a poem right on the first try, when
it turns out that there is far more satisfaction to be found in the process of
honing. We are our own hardest critics, and I hope someone reading this might
be inspired to pick up the pen and finally put down those words that have
floated through the mind. Once the tap is nudged for the first drops, more will
follow and pretty soon the flow falls freely.
"the under story" is available for purchase from Finishinglinepress.com.