First Date is a (mostly) true story. I did have a guy, on our first date, tell me women couldn’t drive his car. I did then take his keys and hit triple digits to prove him wrong. Writers sometimes struggle with how much truth do they tell in their writing. Are we allowed to embellish? Do we stick to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? The poetry workshop I’m taking specifically addressed this topic this week.
So it would seem there can be both – true and untrue, fact and fiction. My poem First Date is a mix of both, it is mostly true and the root of it is true, but of course some things were tweaked a bit for the sake of the story.
My good friend Erica sent me her thoughts on my poem:
When I read that poem I can only hear it in your voice. That’s pretty fucking impressive. You came through loud and clear. I love that in one short poem you show your bad ass, super feminine, down with the man attitude and then put on red lipstick. It’s totally you – your complicated, unapologetic, ‘see me as the strong, powerful woman that I am or fuck you’ way – and I am so proud to know and love you.
Mark Twain once said, “I can live for two months on a good compliment.” Erica just gave me those two months.