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New to Haiku: Advice for Beginners — Bill Sette

Today at New to Haiku, we are pleased to welcome Bill Sette. Bill’s poetry has appeared in journals such as Modern Haiku and Frogpond, and three of his haiku have been selected for display in the Golden Triangle Haiku Contest (2018, 2021 and 2024). Bill, along with six other members of the Towpath Haiku Poets of the Chesapeake Watershed (Roberta Beary, Linda Weir, Elizabeth Black, Lee Giesecke, Ryland Shengzhi Li, Matt Snyder), won the White Enso award in 2023 for a collaborative haiku sequence, Bonsai Home. Thanks for sharing your haiku journey with us, Bill!

In Advice for Beginners posts, we ask established haiku poets to share a bit about themselves so that you can meet them and learn more about their writing journeys. We, too, wanted to learn what advice they would give to beginning haiku poets. You can read posts from previous Advice for Beginners interviewees here.

Welcome to New to Haiku, Bill! How did you come to learn about haiku?

I have always enjoyed reading poetry, and in the late ’60s the Beat poets—particularly Gary Snyder and Allen Ginsburg—captured my interest. At the same time, a course in Eastern Philosophy sparked an interest in Buddhism and Taoism. My poetry reading then gravitated to Chinese poetry and Japanese haiku.

My first efforts at writing haiku came around 2008, through haiku contests (in 5-7-5 syllables) held as part of Asian American Heritage Month at EPA. I took it up as part of a broader effort to explore creative, “right brain” activities as I approached retirement. At that time, I also took drawing, watercolor, and sculpture courses at the local Art League. I won the contest twice (there were few entrants, and I lobbied my colleagues to vote for me), and so the haiku stuck. After that, I wrote haiku on and off for a few years but never shared my efforts, until 2015 when I joined the Towpath Haiku Group.

How do you approach reading haiku? What are your reading habits?

I read haiku from a variety of sources: journals, anthologies, curated sources with or without analyses, and just random online explorations. When reading, I try to identify those haiku that I like on first pass, and then consider why. Some that I don’t get at all, I will reread and try to figure out what I may be missing.

I read Frogpond, Modern Haiku, and The Heron’s Nest and try to read all the haiku when new issues appear. Other journals I read willy-nilly.

I am particularly fond of nature haiku. Allan Burns’ anthology of English language nature haiku was recommended to me by a Towpath colleague. There I learned of Ruth Yarrow and Peggy Willis Lyles, who are contemporary masters, among others, and have followed their work ever since.

I also really enjoy the Red Moon Anthologies which annually select and compile English language haiku and related forms from around the world. They provide a quick way to find out what Jim Kacian and this leading publisher’s staff see as some of the best current work.

Last, I would recommend the analyses of Basho’s haiku by Robert Aitken. While many classic Japanese haiku are superficially simple, their depths can be quite complex in terms of their language, and their cultural and historical contexts. This is particularly true for haiku in translation. I have found his expositions of Basho’s haiku in light of his amazing background—as an American Zen roshi, a student of literature, a translator, and a poet—to be very helpful in understanding their cultural and historical context and depth.

Where do you write most often? Do you have a writing process?

Starts for my haiku typically come from one of two places: on my meditation pillow (not good zazen, but good for creativity), or during walks in the local cemetery arboretum.

washer, dryer
washer, dryer
zazen at the laundromat
Frogpond 42:3, 2019

headstone math
each year fewer and fewer older than I am
Frogpond 43:1, 2020

Occasionally, I am simply inspired by some play on words.

Iowa caucus
some assembly required
Modern Haiku 51:3, Autumn 2020

I type my starts into my phone, and then work on them on my computer. I usually play with them through several drafts over a few days or weeks. If I’m not happy with them at that point, I will leave them and come back to them later.

How does your haiku practice tie into your spirituality? What do you see as the connection between your spiritual practices and haiku?

My spiritual practices are an outgrowth of a long term reading and study of Taoism, Chan Buddhism, and Zen Buddhism. I see Zen Buddhism as rooted in Chan (Chinese Buddhism) which in turn is rooted in Taoism. David Hinton has written extensively on this topic.

Haiku grew out of Japanese society that was deeply involved in Zen Buddhism. Basho was a Zen priest, and many artist intellectuals of the period visited and studied at monasteries. And writing haiku was a part of that society.

At the heart of Zen lies the living experience of each single moment of awareness. Haiku are directed towards describing such moments in a particular form (i.e., season word, 2 contrasting images, 3 lines, 13 or 17 syllables, etc.).

Each morning, after washing the dishes and making coffee, I do a round of tai chi chuan followed by 20 minutes of sitting meditation. I also walk daily, usually in our local cemetery, which is also an arboretum. These practices, in which mind and body are intertwined, help me to relax, both physically and mentally, and to focus. Doing tai chi chuan and less formally my walks, are movement practices; zazen relies on stillness. Their common element is a singular focus on the present moment and are the gateway for me to expressing my creativity or zoka. Janice Doppler has recently written two essays in Frogpond on cultivating zoka and its relation to Basho’s haiku.

I also see writing haiku as another spiritual practice of being present and actively aware in the present moment, while working to describe such an experience in the form of a haiku.

What are your favorite haiku that you have written? Can you share a story about one of them?

movement in stillness
stillness in movement
green heron hunts
Frogpond 44:1, Winter 2021

I have long been fascinated by watching herons in the wild as they search for fish. They seem so intense and still and strike with such rapidity. On a deeper level, movement in stillness and stillness in movement, also embody the magical duality of pure awareness in the present moment, the epitome of tai chi chuan, zazen and, indeed, enlightenment! So for me this haiku was my attempt to capture the identity of the heron hunting and us in the thrill of each moment!

You have been a member of the Towpath Haiku Group for almost 15 years. What do you think are the most important features of a haiku group? What features should a poet look for when workshopping in a group?

Being part of the Towpath Haiku Group has been the most rewarding experience of my haiku life. Its members, many of whom are quite accomplished, have, through their encouragement and advice during our workshops, been my mentors and have nurtured my practice of haiku. I was lucky to find them.

When looking for a workshopping group, I would prioritize finding a diverse group of a manageable size that is focused on workshopping and provides constructive feedback.

By diverse here I mean chiefly poets with different levels of experience and perspectives. Other, more general aspects of diversity, e.g. age, gender, backgrounds, are also desirable.

A group of no more than 12 members is important for managing the process of workshopping the poems. This size can provide for a variety of comments on poems in a reasonable amount of time. For Towpath, we can typically complete two rounds of reviews for roughly two dozen haiku in a three hour meeting.

It is also good to review poems anonymously to limit members’ potential bias based on the author’s reputation or the commenter’s feelings towards them.

Finally, comments should emphasize encouragement and constructive feedback (though not necessarily positive).

For those just starting out with haiku, what other advice would you give?

  • Find what you like and pursue that.

There is a very wide variety of haiku (and postku), many with journals that highlight them. Find what you like, then focus and be inspired by that.

  • Find guidance that works for you, but don’t get overwhelmed.

There is a wealth of high quality material on how to write haiku. My personal favorite came from Ferris Gilli (copyright, 2001), that she sent me in 2017 when she was an editor for The Heron’s Nest. It included 10 considerations, a 13 question checklist, and a list of two dozen things to avoid. (The considerations are included in her interview for this blog on October 31, 2021.) I was overwhelmed. After a few months, I picked it up and read it again and came to appreciate the wisdom of this guidance, but also that it represents the ideal.

  • Cultivate a sense of play.

Aitken notes that “Actually, the word haiku means “play verse.” While working to satisfy the myriad elements of great haiku, it is critical to nurture your creativity. This is something that I have struggled with at times. If you feel stuck, I highly recommend The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron as perhaps the best source for learning to unleash and nurture your creativity. It changed my life.

  • Don’t get discouraged.

Recognize that writing and publishing haiku is a game of failure. If you send ten haiku to a journal like Frogpond, getting one accepted is a victory. Many of my own haiku never leave my computer. Recognize that, if you are like I was, you may be quite experienced as a critic of what is good and what you like in haiku, and quite a novice in terms of writing. As Cameron suggests, your job is to write, and if you take care of the quantity, the quality will come.

  • Be open to other forms.

For my first few years, I was reluctant to participate in renku, because I was afraid that I could not generate quality lines on demand. I can’t do that at home, when I’m alone, why consider it in a group? Surprisingly, I have found that I can do it, and actually enjoy it a lot.

For Further Reading: Bill’s Recommendations

Aitken, Robert. A Zen Wave: Basho’s Haiku and Zen. 1978. New York: Weatherhill Press.

Burns, Allan, Editor. Where the River Goes, the Nature Tradition in English-Language Haiku. 2013. Ormskirk, Great Britain: Snapshot Press.

Cameron, Julia. 1992. The Artist’s Way. A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity. New York: Jeremy P. Tharcher/Putnam Press.

Doppler, Janice. “Following Basho Following Zoka,” Frogpond 46:1, 2023.

Doppler, Janice. “Cultivating Zoka,” Frogpond 47:1. 2024.

Hinton, David. Existence: A Story. 2016. Boulder: Shambhala Press.

Bill Sette is retired and lives with his wife in Arlington, Virginia. Before that, he worked at the US Environmental Protection Agency for 30 years as a toxicologist and risk assessor. He began writing haiku in 2008, growing out of longstanding interests in poetry, Buddhism and Taoism. Since 2015, he has been a member of the Towpath Haiku Group, and has published haiku in Frogpond, Modern Haiku, Presence, and a number of anthologies. He has also contributed to a few linked verses with Towpath colleagues.

We’d love to hear from you in the comments. The Haiku Foundation reminds you that participation in our offerings assumes respectful and appropriate behavior from all parties. Please see our Code of Conduct policy for more information.

Julie Bloss Kelsey is the current Secretary of The Haiku Foundation. She started writing haiku in 2009, after discovering science fiction haiku (scifaiku). She lives in Maryland with her husband and kids. Julie's first print poetry collection, Grasping the Fading Light: A Journey Through PTSD, won the 2021 Women’s International Haiku Contest from Sable Books. Her ebook of poetry, The Call of Wildflowers, is available for free online through Moth Orchid Press (formerly Title IX Press). Her most recent collection, After Curfew, is available from Cuttlefish Books. Connect with her on Instagram @julieblosskelsey.

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