This is just a taste of how good this woman is live.
Karen Finneyfrock visited the Central Washington University's campus today, and it was an inspiring experience. Her poetry was sublime, but it was her manner that truly sold me on her work. She had a way of speaking to you that seemed to say "yes, I see you. I hear you. I value what you say." As a prospective writer, I cannot put into words how much such experiences mean to me.
I need to go back a bit and put this into more context. The event this evening was preluded by a Slam Poetry contest where I had been, ehem, 'voluntold' into. So, being the good friend that I am... as well as acknowledging that the first step to publication is actually allowing others to hear my work, I went and participated. I shared two pieces: my "Psyche, dear" (which I have mentioned before), and my "Casualties" sonnet. Every writer knows when someone is throwing bullshit their way; the casual "it was good," and such. But watching as someone goes along with you for the ride? Watching as they get the references, the story, and the tonality of your words? How can I express the euphoria of watching that come over someone's face? I can't. Not without gushing like a hormone-ridden teen (which I haven't been for quite some time). I thought I was too jaded at my ripe age of twenty-eight (insert eye rolls here, I know). But, back on topic, Karen Finneyfrock flat out made my night by simply approaching me after the performances. An introduction, and a genuine appreciation of what I had shared did the trick. This writer is rearing and ready to go. The fear is temporarily forgotten. I cannot promise that it will not reappear again, but the gates are, for the moment, open. Who knows what might spill out to the other side?
So, in essence, this is a thank you as well as a poke to my readers to get off your asses and look this woman up. She's good--the rip out your guts discreetly and make you laugh while you're at it type of poet. Be inspired. Be intrigued.
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