On Flimsy Inspiration, or The Dripping Sieve

There are times I write whole essays in my head in the middle of the day, as I bike across town, during lunch hour at work, or while washing dishes. I compose intricate symphonies of poetically-structured sentences, elaborate ideas, profundities. I am a genius.

But here’s the thing: I never write a single word down. My genius lasts for the five or forty minutes it takes to compose these thoughts in the confines of my brain, and then the brilliance is flattened like a squirrel with the most unfortunate timing.

I blame the professor who told me once that if it’s not memorable enough to stick in my brain long enough to eventually make it to paper, it’s probably not interesting enough to write about. That may not have been exactly what he said, but that’s the sentiment that stuck with me, and so I stubbornly adhere to this advice that was probably not meant for people like me, people with memories like sieves. When the inspiration is flush it fills to the brim. And it filters out twice as quickly.

In truth, of course, the fault is my own. In the moment of pure revelation—listen closely now, and get out your pen—just write it down. Even if you would have remembered it anyway, impress it into being, give it a jump start on survival. That’s what I’m telling myself this month. My time is spare. My inspiration is flimsy. I cannot afford to rely on my memory, to push it to the end of the day, to risk an empty sieve when I need a full coffer. I’m gonna keep that notebook handy.

**

Jennifer Yeatts is Senior Editor of Dunes Review and a Michigan native. She completed an MFA in poetry at the University of Idaho while also serving on the editorial board for Fugue, where she met and worked with many fine people including the fabulous Chelsia Rice, instigator of this blog. Jennifer writes, edits, makes coffee, and teaches other people how to make coffee at Higher Grounds Trading Co., an organic and fair trade coffee company in Traverse City, Michigan. Her poems have appeared in a few places here and there, including Linebreak and Boxcar Poetry Review.