Balmain On Scanlan

REVIEWS & REFLECTIONS Wey Featured Poet: ¥ Mae Scanlan F yout a fan of ZINES ctess: sacs as Mec Seulaa Hellmadk Fodos adn had tthe Nena ‘engin lenges we Pu Sate che Tigi reader who and har husband, isnt—ie won't shock youro learn she’sa pianist ‘Who buc a seasoned musician could give so many poems such 2 catchy, rollicking beat “Is not that Im a great player,” she says, after mentioning that ‘every month for 22 yeass, she hhas played during happy hour at 2 nursing home, “les that 1 just happen co know all the cold songs of the ‘20s, '30s, and 40s, and chis brings smiles to the faces of even these who canlt oF move. Youll also find it_makes perfect sense that for 28 years, Scanlan has been 2 photographer. Like a welkdeveloped picture, her poems tend to have just the right balance of subject and background, telling detail, and (of course) light. Uniil 2004, she worked full rime as a stock photographer—shooting what she liked, then selling to ‘Tom, trad wide vasa result, and also produced a book about their hometown: Beautiful America’s Washington, D.C. (Scanlan, who has lived in D.C. most of her life, took the photos; Tom, a retired joumalist, wrote the text.) As in Scanlan's poetry, some of her favorite sub-jects are animals and—when their parents aren't around —children, “Parents always wane kids to comb their hair and smile for the camera,” she says, “but sometimes theyre much cuter with a stray piece of hair or a sagging pant leg” ‘Whet may amaze you, though—what defies logie— is that Scanlan has found any time to write. Not only is she a photographer and pianist, she's also 2 mother of two grown children: a grandmother of three; a caretaker ther husband(who has suffered a stoke and other health problems)s and a “surrogate grandparene’ © the 10 or so kids who live on ker block. Nonetheless, Scanlan’s output so fai—published and aov—is probably enough co paper every room in her bouse, plus the rooms ofall 10 of those Kids. “I have boxes and boxos,” Scanlan says, containing pocms thar date clear back to her childhood. A partial inventory of her work: about 1,000 limerickss hundreds of poems for children (ome have been anthologized); dozens of poems in Light scores of contest-winning poems in The Washington Post and such British publications as Literary Review, Lighten Up Online, and The Spectator (ix which she was the firse American ever to win highest honors); at least 100 song parodies, some of which have been performed by the National Press Clubs and abou a dozen mostly-political poems that appeared in The Washington Times from ‘98299. (The Times sig ended when the paper switched editorial directors. “It was just a5 wel,” Scanlan says, “sincel takea different view from the paper on most things.”) ‘What's her secret to prod- uctivity? Simple, she says: she writes almost everywhere. On planes, trains, and the Metro, for instance, In doctors’ waiting rooms. On park benches. In restaurants. And, of course, at home. The only place she niiely writes is on a computer, which she finds incompatible with poezry’s starts and stops and thinking spells. “I write Ionghand on a drugstore pad,” she says. “T sit in my chair with my cup of ea... IfThave to sit and think, T prefer be in an easy chair. I'm big on rewrites. Tdo a lot of crossing ous, sub- sicuting words, sometimes tossing out an entire vere. Ie goes through a lor before | feel like, ‘OK, this is the poem.” Her effort shows in her scemingly effordess results, which range from epigrammatic to neurly-epic, from peevish to prising In the praise deparement, Scanlan has mem corably extolled such subjects as oysters, dogs, sparulss, bathrubs, London fog, cats, and the humble mop:A Quiet Thank You “Hero he man wo invented themop, Fordhs spi tol che cxamofihe op, Then mary peson, inci ovvilige, Immunew th pespaxof blag andspilags. (Copa Theregoscfceall ‘ove the oo, Ouceomsstemopand the cafes no more. Palvizal Chesiossippes ofsnals, PddescFrandopsand wee rmudéy ads, Dropped conssoficecram, and tippal ensof paint Mop the sou Bigmess.. then ai, ‘Mankind ria things shar gil eck ord Alar eraed by he sth of hemp. Tvloxdyo know thar when shings go sms “Thentabraysaaudy ld sp santinghy T wishsome aveneor would malic hi gal Toaywooncup wih amp forthesoul. Among topics Scanlan has, conversely, singled out for scorn: Abbott and Costello. Sonny and Cher, lost luggage, croquet, skimpy girls’ clothes, lead~ tainted toys, and politicians— often in the form of song parodies. Songs come naturally to her, afterall. She has writeen more than 20 original ones since carly adulthood—Iyrics and music—and published three. One of these, a “tear-jerker” about 2 shipwreck that she peaned soon after college, was nearly her ticket ro fame. “Ie was country-western type song,” she says, “aad was supposed to be recorded by Eddy Amold, ‘who was then the No. 1 singer in his category—and. always soli a million or more records of any song he recorded. I was beside myself with glee. But, at the last minute, it turned out he hhad a contractual problem and couldn't do it ail the next yeas, and my publisher [RCA Victor] didn’t want to wait, so gave it co young unknown. Ic gor good reviews, but never really made igs Igoe small royalty checks for a few years and that was that.” Bad news for Scanlan, pethaps—bue excellent news for lighe-verse fans. If she had gone on co write full sime for

Balmain On Scanlan

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