Sometimes it pays to wander at random, then be surprised at what awaits you. Ten years ago, I was the second writer-in-residence at a new program at Shake Rag Alley, a cultural center in the small, historic town of Mineral Point, Wisconsin.
Located in southwest Wisconsin, Mineral Point was founded by miners from Cornwall, England. Its homes and businesses, crafted mainly of a yellowish stone (I believe a form of sandstone), have been carefully restored, with many buildings pre-dating statehood. Pottery studios, art galleries, quaint hotels and unique restaurants dot the landscape of this town of 2,500 or so.
On one particular walk, I wandered into Foundry Books, a little haven on the edge of town with new, but mostly used books. For some reason, I hadn’t been aware that Mineral Point even had a bookstore. The magnanimous proprietor Gayle Bull greeted me, and I told her I was mainly looking for books of poetry. After a chat, she learned why I was in town, and asked, “Have you ever been interested in haiku?” I think I answered something like, “A little. It’s something I teach children every once in a while in school workshops.”
She showed me an archive of haiku books and periodicals dating back to when she and her late husband Jim Bull edited the first American haiku magazine, American Haiku. Way back in the recesses of my memory, I remember submitting some “haiku” to this publication when I first started writing and being rejected. Ah, yes, and it was located in Wisconsin. But Gayle Bull’s warm demeanor and open enthusiasm for the subject made me forget about that.
She opened up various issues of the magazine and pointed out haiku that resonated with her. Some haiku were three lines, some two and some even one line (called a monostitch). And none had to be the five-seven-five-syllable, three-line haiku most of us are familiar with. When haiku reached the American shores, she explained, haiku took on a new direction. The five-seven-five (17 syllable) format was perfect for Japanese, which uses more syllables in its words than in English (haiku expert Lee Gurga feels that American haiku should usually be no longer than 12 syllables). And counting syllables isn’t really the point. The point is to create two separate images that juxtapose, that cause that haiku aha! moment in the reader.
After meeting Gayle, I made periodic trips back to Mineral Point over the following years, to take part in dining-room-table haiku workshops in the back of the bookstore where Gayle lived, to attend haiku lectures and, also accompanied by my poet husband Carlos Cumpian, the occasional Cradle of American Haiku conferences headquartered at Foundry Books, which hosted haiku events around town at various locations.
I felt as if Gayle took me under her wing and nurtured my direction in this special genre, new, surprisingly deep, and exciting for me. I slowly began to write “real haiku,” versus the children’s workshop 5-7-5 syllable counters, made new friends among the close group of haiku aficionados and began to get haiku published in magazines such as Frogpond and Bottle Rockets. While I still mainly write conventional poetry (maybe not-so-conventional), haiku holds a special place for me as well these past years.
I owe much to my friendship with Gayle, who unfortunately passed away in 2019. I will always remember her fondly and have nothing but a grateful heart for who she was. Her birthday is August 8. And the good news is, haiku lives on in Mineral Point!
Read more about Gayle Bull, Foundry Books and. Mineral Point in my memoir/reference/creativity guide Frugal Poets’ Guide to Life: How to Live a Poetic Life, Even If You Aren’t a Poet.
