Sassy Lady Writers Make Me Smile…

I am kind of obsessed with exploring the lives and writing of some really cool ladies. Sylvia Plath tops that list right now and I actually have an entire Plath reading list here on the blog. I lovingly refer to this as The Plath Project. However, there are other ladies that I think are cool as hell and really interest me: Edna St. Vincent Millay, Anne Sexton, Shirley Jackson, Doris Lessing, Zelda Fitzgerald, and Dorothy Parker. It is sort of odd that some of these are poets since I am not a huge poetry fan … mostly because I understand very little about poetry in general. Anyway, I am going to be reading a biography about each of these women along with some of their work. I think Dorothy Parker may pull ahead as a favorite due to her amazing wit. Are any of these ladies among your favorites?

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Anne Sexton
1928 – 1974

Zelda (and Scott)Fitzgerald 1900-1948

Zelda (and Scott)Fitzgerald
1900-1948

Edna St. Vincent Millay 1892-1950

Edna St. Vincent Millay
1892-1950

Shirley Jackson 1916-1965

Shirley Jackson
1916-1965

Doris Lessing 1919

Doris Lessing
1919

Dorothy Parker 1893-1967

Dorothy Parker
1893-1967

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Poetry?

Poetry. I do not know much about the various mechanics involved in poetry. Reading poetry scares me and often makes my head hurt. In truth, I have not read much poetry, but I hope to eventually change this. In The Vintage Book of American Women Writers anthology, edited by Elaine Showalter, I found “What Lips My Lips Have Kissed” by Edna St. Vincent Millay to share:

What my lips have kissed, and where, and why
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain

Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply;
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone;
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.

What is your favorite poet? What is your favorite poem?