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Celebrating National Poetry Month: an Interview with Lauren Davis
by Writing Workshops Staff
2 days ago
In an age when we hunger for connection yet scroll past it at speed, poetry stands as a sustaining force—subtle, immediate, and deeply human. In celebration of National Poetry Month, Lauren Davis, the accomplished author of both fiction and poetry (including the forthcoming short story collection The Nothing), invites writers to partake in a generative workshop that honors, above all else, the daily act of creation. Over thirty days, participants are challenged to pen thirty new poems, inspired by contemporary luminaries such as Ada Limón, Clemens Starck, and Danez Smith—an invigorating call to cultivate one’s craft in intimate conversation with today’s defining voices.
Davis brings with her a wealth of expertise: an MFA from Bennington College, former editorship at The Puritan’s Town Crier, and multiple award-winning publications that span genres and styles. Her teaching approach balances exacting feedback—offered privately on two poems—with the essential generosity of a supportive literary community, ensuring that even those new to the form feel emboldened to experiment and refine. Each week, participants will receive a fresh bouquet of prompts designed to spark fresh encounters with language, guiding them through a month of poetic discovery.
We recently sat down with Davis to talk about her creative inspirations, the power of daily writing, and how the discipline of poetry can transcend the page. In the conversation that follows, she shares her insights on what it means to commit oneself to thirty days of craftsmanship—and, ultimately, to a lifetime of unfolding wonder in words.
Writing Workshops: Your forthcoming short story collection, The Nothing, and past poetry collections each have distinct tonal landscapes. How did the evolution of your creative practice lead you to design a workshop based on writing a poem a day, and what hidden dimensions of your process do you hope participants will discover in their work?
Lauren Davis: The Nothing actually came from a time period where I was very frustrated artistically, and I wanted to take the pressure off myself and treat writing like play. Writing a poem a day is a type of play. It asks that participants loosen up and allow the process to do its magic. It demands trust, but it opens the door to discovery.
WW: National Poetry Month can feel celebratory and intimidating—thirty prompts in thirty days is a serious commitment. What personal rituals or mindsets do you suggest participants adopt to maintain creative stamina over the full month, and how have you honed these approaches in your daily writing practice?
LD: I suggest participants let go of the need for perfection and fully lean into the experience. Let go of the need to edit, revise, revisit, hold back. Trust the process. Some days are going to feel impossible. But if we acknowledge the resistance and write anyhow, we're sure to find rewards. Letting go is something I've had to rediscover again and again in my own process.
WW: Your prompts are inspired by a wonderfully diverse group of contemporary poets, from Ada Limón to Clemens Starck to Danez Smith. Can you share how you selected these poets and how their particular aesthetic or thematic signatures might help workshop participants break through familiar writing patterns or assumptions?
LD: My goal is to share a diverse range of voices and contemporary poetic traditions so that, at a minimum, participants walk away feeling there is a place for their voice in the contemporary landscape. Sometimes I hear participants say things like, "I don't think I'm writing poetry," or "My writing is too weird," and I want to be able to point to another poet's work and say, "See here? You are in the best company. You have a seat at this table."
WW: In your workshop, peers focus on what is ‘working’ in each piece rather than suggesting changes. Why do you think it’s crucial for early drafts to be celebrated rather than critiqued, and how do you see this positivity impacting a writer’s willingness to take risks and cultivate originality?
LD: There are a few reasons. One, a workshop like this needs forward momentum, and going back to revise can throw that off. Two, trying to revise a poem too early, before it has time to tell the writer what it wants to be, can be a major disservice to the poem. We don't tell a newborn baby that it is going to be a firefighter, when maybe the baby wants to grow up to be a brick mason. In this same vein, we allow a newly written poem enough time and space to tell us what it wants for itself. Three, positive feedback helps writers grow as much if not more so than critiques. Julia Cameron wrote, “…it is my experience that if I praise a student’s strengths, the weaknesses eventually fall away. If I focus on the weakness, the strengths, too, may wobble and even vanish.” Four, I believe giving and receiving feedback is a skillset, and I believe it is vital to go over the basics of these skills in every workshop where critiques are given. This usually takes at least two weeks to do, and in a workshop like this, there simply isn't enough time if we're going to meet our goal of thirty poems in thirty days.
WW: As someone who has worked in multiple literary forms—from flash fiction and short stories to poems—how does the discipline of generating new poetry drafts every day differ from the longer, more meandering process of other literary genres? What lessons from your multi-genre background inform how you shape this poetry workshop?
LD: Creating a full-length book or writing a lengthy short story is, for me, a long, meandering process. But the initial creation of poems has a different alchemy. Each step towards the end product of a book demands a different skillset, mindset, and energy output. I've learned to expect these different demands and to embrace them, rather than feel boxed in or intimidated by them. Each step has its own rewards, and to rush past one area is to dishonor the entire book.
WW: In this workshop, you’ll provide private, detailed feedback on two poems. When you zero in on a poet’s early draft, what signals or patterns do you look for that might show a writer something fresh about their voice or nudge them toward greater artistic depth?
LD: I focus on what I think is working in the piece, what I think is strong and exciting. And I also acknowledge any questions that come up for me, though I ask that writers sit with those questions rather than answer them for me specifically. I sometimes suggest specific experiments with revision, and I often include pieces from other writers that I think echo their work, so that they can see the good company that they keep. I occasionally leave copyediting marks when it seems appropriate. And I give suggestions that ask the writer to look at all aspects of their poem, from the title to their line breaks to their word choice.
WW: You were once an Editor in Residence at The Puritan’s Town Crier, and you’ve published in a wide range of outlets. How does your editorial experience influence the way you guide emerging poets? Do you find yourself encouraging them to resist trends, challenge expected forms, or embrace experimentation in new ways?
LD: One thing I try really hard to do is to listen to a student's voice and honor a student's voice. Every poet's voice is unique, and it is vital that I let go of expectations, biases, and preferences so that I can embrace the true beauty of each new voice I come into contact with. That being said, I also try to (gently) push writers out of their comfort zone when it seems appropriate. I ask them to look at a draft from a different angle, or try an experiment when revising it, acknowledging that the experiment may not reap obvious rewards.
WW: The prompts in your course are driven by contemporary poetry, yet the tradition of a ‘poem-a-day’ challenge also carries echoes of ancient artistic rituals. What do you think is timeless about the act of daily creative output, and how does that timeless energy mesh with the very modern voices and themes you’re drawing upon?
LD: I am not a daily writer, and I have never been one. In the past, I have tried, repeatedly, to keep up a daily practice. I finally realized that I am more of a seasonal writer, and I can write in bursts. This workshop is a burst, and I think dialing in for an extended period of time can allow us to access a type of flow that otherwise we may not be privy to. It's a way to get out of our own way and open the floodgates, so to speak. This flow state is timeless. When a poet reaches it, they know they are there. There is no doubt.
WW: For participants who step away from the workshop with thirty new drafts—and perhaps a renewed sense of their poetic identity—what do you hope lingers with them long after April ends? If you could define one quiet yet transformative effect the workshop might have, what would it be?
LD: I hope participants remember that everything is writable. We all have stories and poems that only we can write, and there is enough material in all of us, just waiting, quite patiently, to be accessed.
Instructor Lauren Davis is the author of the forthcoming short story collection The Nothing (YesYes Books), the poetry collection Home Beneath the Church (Fernwood Press), the Eric Hoffer Grand Prize short-listed When I Drowned (Kelsay Books), and the chapbooks Each Wild Thing’s Consent (Poetry Wolf Press), The Missing Ones (Winter Texts), and Sivvy (Whittle Micro-Press). She holds an MFA from the Bennington College Writing Seminars. She is a former Editor in Residence at The Puritan’s Town Crier, and she is the winner of the Landing Zone Magazine’s Flash Fiction Contest. Her stories, essays, poetry, interviews, and reviews have appeared in numerous literary publications and anthologies including Prairie Schooner, Spillway, Poet Lore, Ibbetson Street, Ninth Letter and elsewhere.
