The Easy Way to A Sonnet
This article is for: Beginner and Intermediate poets
What is it about sonnets? They’re everywhere!
It seems as though every person who's learning poetry wants to write sonnets, and every Start Writing Poetry course wants you to write one.
Most people who don’t know poetry know that a sonnet is a poem, whereas if you say “ghazal” or “pantoum” to them they’re more likely to think you just sneezed. Sonnets are even in pop songs, like The Verve’s “Sonnet.”
But why?
Partly, of course, it’s because the sonnet is famous, and some of the greatest poems in English are sonnets.
But there's more to it than that. Sonnets are so perennially popular because they connect form with ideas in ways that really, really work.
And moreover, there’s a way of writing them that harnesses that power, and takes out all the pain of rhyme and iambic pentameter completely!
Here it is.
The Shape of the Sonnet—and how to use it your way
There’s something about the sonnet “shape” that is extraordinarily helpful to writers in structuring and conveying their thoughts, and deeply satisfying to readers too. This is the reason why so many great poems in the English tradition are sonnets.
And it’s also the key to how you can ease into writing them.
I said earlier that a sonnet has a fearsome number of rules. And it does! Here are all the rules for a traditional sonnet:
The sonnet has 14 lines
The 14 lines are divided up into separate packages of thought: either one group of 8 lines (the “octave” then one of 6 (the “sestet”), or three groups of 4 lines (“quatrains”) then one of 2 lines (the closing couplet).
There must be a "turn"—that is, a place where the thinking goes in a new direction.
The turn usually occurs either between the octave and sestet in the 8+6 version, or between the last quatrain and the couplet.
If you're doing the 8+6 sonnet, then the 8-line part (the octave) also breaks down into two quatrains, 4+4.
The poem should have a rhyme scheme, which can have about a zillion variations.
The lines of the poem should be in iambic pentameter.
Is your head spinning yet? I told you there were a lot of rules…
BUT: you don't have to follow all the rules all at once.
So here's a way that you can write a sonnet about any topic:
Follow Rule #1 and Rule #2, and don’t worry about the rest.
In other words, write a 14-line poem and put your ideas into packages of 8 lines + 6 lines, or 4 + 4+ 4 + 2—but don’t worry about the rhyme or the meter.
(At this point I’d like to add that writing sonnets with rhyme and meter is even more rewarding than without them, but does take more practice. I hope you’ll work up to it!)
How to write a sonnet using Rule #1 and Rule #2
Suppose I want to write about the dead squirrel I saw on my road yesterday morning, and I decide to try a sonnet. How do I start?
First, I’ll pick which type of sonnet I want to use.
The 8+6 sonnet tends to be good for a topic where you have one big block of things you want to start with—that’s the 8 part. Then the 6 part lets you go into a slightly different angle, reflecting on what you’ve already said, drawing a new conclusion perhaps.
The 4+4+4+2 sonnet, on the other hand, comes in smaller chunks, so it might work better for a topic where you have a few different things you want to say, and also where you want to keep up the pace.
In my squirrel topic, I really only have one idea at the moment—describing the squirrel. So I think I’ll try 8+6 to start with, so I can fill the 8 part with my one idea!
OK, I’ll write my 8 part now.
I’ll try describing the squirrel in 8 lines, and see how that goes. But I’ll also be mindful that the 8 can break down into 4+4: if I find myself with two sub-topics, I’ll split it like that.
(And note also: you don’t have to be super-rigid about breaking the “8” exactly at the end of line 8. It could be in the middle of line 7, or line 9. Let the poem guide you!)
Anyway, squirrel:
Without my glasses I thought it was a stone,
grey and heavy on the sidewalk. Then closer,
the abundant hairs of its tail unstirred,
its legs and hands all still, quite still.
The tail was curled up like a pillow
over its white, soft belly,
eyes closed in a long, unshaken sleep.
As I worked on that, I paid attention to the sonnet form and how it could help me. So I used the first 4 lines to create the initial picture of the animal: still on the sidewalk.
Then I thought how I could use the next 4 lines to develop the first ideas, and decided to add more details, going into the tail and the eyes.
But I’ve only got 7 lines! So I need to push my memory and imagination, and come up with one more detail about the squirrel—maybe its hand-like paws?
Also, I see I’ve been using sleep imagery of sleep, so I’ll see if I can weave that in too. How about this:
its hands not dreaming of pine cones any more
Now the whole 8 lines are:
Without my glasses I thought it was a stone,
grey and heavy on the sidewalk. Then closer,
the abundant hairs of its tail unstirred,
its legs and hands all still, quite still.
The tail was curled up like a pillow
over its white, soft belly,
its hands not dreaming of pine cones any more,
eyes closed in a long, unshaken sleep.
So, writing to the 4+4 shape helped me to structure my tale, and even gave me an extra idea!
Now I’m on to the 6 part
And I’m in trouble, because I really need to say something different about the squirrel now, and I don’t have any ideas! So to write the 6 I’ll have to stretch my creativity and come up with something new to say.
I think I’ll bring in another person, as a “you.”
Do you remember the one you told me to shoot?
Motionless also in its dray, but its blood
beating in its frightened ears
that didn’t hear the crash of my gun
or its own thwump on the dirt.
Birds resettled; its eyes gummed shut with blood.
I think that might work to be going on with. There’s a definite difference (the “turn”)between the 8 and the 6 parts, and having to make that change has again shoved me into a new direction that might be profitable.
But maybe I can also use the sonnet forms to do some redrafting too.
Looking again at the 6 part, I wonder if I could actually break it into a 4 + 2:
Do you remember the one you told me to shoot?
Motionless also in its dray, but its blood
beating in its frightened ears
that didn’t hear the crash of my gun.
The birds resettled.
Its eyes gummed shut with blood.
If I do that, then the whole draft could be a 4+4+4+2, like this:
Without my glasses I thought it was a stone,
grey and heavy on the sidewalk. Then closer,
the abundant hairs of its tail unstirred,
its legs and hands all still, quite still.
The tail was curled up like a pillow
over its white, soft belly,
its hands not dreaming of pine cones any more,
eyes closed in a long, unshaken sleep.
Do you remember the one you helped me to shoot?
Motionless also in its dray, but its blood
beating in its frightened ears
that didn’t hear the crash of my gun.
The cawking birds resettled, while
its eyes gummed shut with blood.
Do I prefer this to the 8+6? I like the final couplet, so I’ll probably keep that. But the initial description seems to take too long, so maybe in the next draft I’ll change stanza 2 to include speculation on how the animal on the sidewalk died.
But it’s only a first draft, so there’s a long way to go!
The main point is, I have a draft now—and the sonnet form has helped me hugely to create that draft.
Next Steps
Take any topic
Consider what kinds of ideas you have about that topic
Play with putting your existing ideas into one of the sonnet’s shapes
Let the sonnet form help you structure your ideas, and give you new ideas
If the form is hindering you, try switching it, or breaking one of the “rules” a little.
Good luck and have fun!