Emily Skaja

Emily Skaja is the worst kind of villain. Like Bowser, she moves from land to sea to sky before you can find enough red coins to pay her off. Born June 5, 1984 to humble beginnings in a mattress warehouse in upper suburbia, Emily enjoys the simple life. She would do anything for Gatsby (her inept little dog). She can speak freely about monkeys in Flemish. She makes perfect pasta. She knits. She once bought the Narnia wardrobe at a flea market for 89 cents.  

Poetics

I've become aware that my poetry is primarily concerned with aural rhythm, unusual metaphor, and prettiness of language. When I write, I hear the syllabic construction of a line in my head first, write it down, and then try to fashion a poem around it. When I feel drawn to write a poem with an emotional cliché behind it, I try to wrap that cliché in as many layers of unique metaphor as I can. Usually this involves imagining the exact opposite of an object or emotion, and then finding a way for the two opposites to relate. But even this process leads me back to the sound quality.  

For example, I frequently find myself trying to fit three- or four-syllable words in a fragment. In my head, I make arbitrary lists of words. The words filament, firmament, arrogant, sophistry, injury, enemy, agony and ruinous might all be on the same list because they all have three syllables, despite their varied meanings.  I find that the goal and tone of my poem will change under the direction of whatever word I choose for the line. I trust these syllabic/aural instincts even when they take me toward unexpected destinations.  

I also make lists of words I love and try to fit them into poems whenever possible. Some words/ideas that I focused on this semester include: trains, death, dreams, moths, bricks, the moon, castles, trees, night skies, blackness, madness, decay, fruit, bruises, shipwrecks, hollows, fleeing in the night, cities, cityscapes, ruins, spiders, fire, Zelda Fitzgerald, Amelia Earhart, Anna Karenina , gypsies, boxcars, war, escapism, battles, babies, families, drugs, cigarettes, and oceans. When I include any of these images in a poem or story, I feel like I've constructed a world for myself where I can live among the things that fascinate me. It's easier for me to write poems when I surround myself with these kinds of images, words, and ideas. The more elaborate the language, the better.  

In a society that dismisses idealism, it is sometimes difficult to explain the reasons that creative writing is intrinsically important. I write poetry because I enjoy the process. I am wildly passionate about beautiful phrasing, creating fresh images, and shaping ideas and emotion in new and original ways. Everything else that I do is just a means of passing the time until I can write again. Writing is what makes me happiest.