What I learnt by writing one poem a day for 30 days

George R R Martin said, “Some writers enjoy writing, I am told. Not me. I enjoy having written.” I know exactly what he meant.

In April 2021, Aditi, a friend of mine, and I embarked on a journey together—a 30-day Poetry Writing Challenge. It was just as daunting as it sounds but somehow we made it through successfully. While I do enjoy writing, I definitely more enjoyed the feeling of relief and satisfaction (and dare I say pride) at having written these 30 poems than I enjoyed the pressure of writing one each day while doing it. Once done, I sat down to think about what I had learnt about myself and my writing through this self-imposed challenge. Here’s what I found.

First, some context. The challenge was to get ourselves to write every day. Not just write something random, but write one poem a day. And not just a poem about anything, but based on a list of pre-decided daily prompts. This list was an almost random assortment of words, some of which I’ve never needed to use in these 29 years of being around. And which now required me to write poetry inspired by them. The journey was tough. There were days where each word was like pulling teeth, and then a few days when I’d try to make up for a couple of days of not writing and write 3-4 pieces in one go. But it was worth it, just to see all the poems together at the end of the month.

And I did learn a few things along the way.

I learnt that I write a lot about writing. About how I write what I write. About the words I choose. About what I choose to write about. About why I find it difficult to write sometimes. About whether I can call myself a writer. And so on. I asked and answered questions I’ve often asked myself — how do my words work, what do I want to do with them, do I find them or do they find me. These are perennial questions, and I sense that they will be back.

I learnt that it's okay to not always be able to write. Despite wanting to write one poem everyday, I often couldn’t. I would try, for sure. I would sit down and open a fresh new empty scary page everyday and write the prompt for the day in big block letters on top as if that was all I needed to start an outpouring of perfect poetic genius. Well, empty page, meet empty mind. But then there were other days when I could sit and write three or four poems at a stretch. If I didn't question myself when that happened, then why should I question the times I can't think of anything to write? It’s fine, it’ll come.

I learnt that my language is not very flowery, and that’s okay. It's quite utilitarian, and I tend to be very analytical about writing, especially when I am writing based on prompts. I started off on most days by looking up what the prompt meant and then finding that it had maybe two or three different meanings that I could then play around with. I really enjoyed these word games, but somehow I felt like I was less of a poet because I was being utilitarian and not aesthetic in my word choices. But I have also grown to embrace that about my writing. I like that it's very no-nonsense. They might not be the biggest baddest words I’m putting out there but they are ordinary words coming together just the way I want them to and there is a certain beauty in that as well.

I learnt that I enjoy exploring various forms of poetry. I had these prompts, some of which gave me very little to work with. So, just to keep myself entertained, at least three or four poems ended up becoming explorations of forms. I wrote one Shakespearean sonnet, a haiku, an etheree, and an elegy. All of which I had never written before and thoroughly enjoyed constructing now. I never thought I’d one day be able to write poetry within a set of rules, about a topic I didn't choose. Usually when I write poems, they’re outlets of my own feelings and emotions that would just flow out in whatever way that feels right. The words find their own place and their own rhythm, and often with very little effort from me. I act more as a channel for the words rather than as the one selecting them or structuring them a certain way. Sometimes I just follow where the words lead me. So, this was a nice change, to engage with poetry intentionally and consciously. To try new things and play with poetry and learn.

I learnt that it's really important to have the time and this space to just sit down and just hear yourself think to be able to write. I realised that I often run from one thing to another just to avoid hearing myself think, and that had to change. From working to reading to watching something to listening to something back to working and on and on and on again. Basically doing anything to avoid the silence. But it is really important if I want to write, especially poetry. The more I distract myself the more I move away from knowing what I really want to talk about. I realised as I sat for at least a couple of hours every day to think about one thing deeply, that there were many other things on my mind that I wasn’t paying attention to. Sitting with the silence is key.

I learnt that it’s great to have somebody along with you on the same journey when taking up something like this challenge. Aditi had asked me if I wanted to join her on the challenge and I was quite apprehensive. I didn't know if I would be able to commit to writing every day for 30 days. In the inevitable daily struggle with the search for words and ideas and creativity and motivation, it was great to know I was not alone. There were days when she would finish writing and then also motivate me to finish. Sometimes reading what she had written itself would be the daily dose of motivation and inspiration to keep going. I don't think I would have completed the 30 days without her.

And lastly and most importantly, I learnt that I am a writer, even though I still have a lot of trouble calling myself one. There are just so many of them out there. So many who are so good and so sure of who they are and what they have to say that it just seems like if you are not that sure, maybe you shouldn't be writing. And you read things like ‘so you want to be a writer’ by Bukowski which just make it worse. But maybe I’ll become more sure only as I write. All I know is, push comes to shove, I can write. Not just write, I can write things that I am proud of. And nobody gets to tell me otherwise. Am I the best writer I can be? Maybe not yet. Actually I definitely hope not, I want to keep getting better. But that doesn't make me any less of a writer than I am. And that is something I need to keep reminding myself of. And now I know that if I had to, I could write 30 poems in 30 days and maybe even more. I could do that and I did do that and nobody gets to take that away from me.

To sum up:

I write a lot about my writing.

It's okay to not write sometimes.

It’s okay to be a utilitarian writer.

It’s fun to play with the forms of poetry.

It's important to have the silence and space to listen to yourself think to be able to write.

The journey is better with company.

I am still a writer.

I am a writer.