Soap Opera Weekly, August 31, 1999
The Other Half: Ode To
Love
GL's David Andrew Macdonald provides plenty of inspiration for poet Nicolette
Nicola. It was the perfect job for her. The kids in her charge were 5,9 and
11, and during the day they were in school while she worked at a magazine.
Then she picked them up from school and took care of them until 8 p.m. For
seven weeks in the summer, she went with them to their house on the coast
of Maine.
"Not a difficult thing to do!" she declares melodiously, recounting her good
fortune. She was, however, predisposed to dislike her employer's "baby brother"
-- an actor from New York -- when he showed up for a visit at the end of
the season. "I decided that he must be very pompous, and when I met him I
thought: Yes. He is really pompous." Still, she agreed to have a drink with
him, and decided, before the night was done, that he wasn't so bad after
all. Slightly more than a year later, her employer became her
sister-in-law.
In January 1994, in her hometown of Pittsburgh, Nicolette Nicola married
David Andrew Macdonald (Edmund, Guiding Light) in the midst of a heavy snowstorm.
It was a fitting backdrop for this daring imaginative bride, who wore an
Elizabethan gown of white crushed velvet and carried, instead of a bouquet,
a little white muff, adorned only with some greenery. In her hair she wore
a simple, circular band, with one satin ribbon flowing from either side.
"I love winter," she says enthusiastically. "I didn't want to wear one of
those summery little dresses, and I didn't want a traditional flower thing.
I had one attendant who carried a mix of berry and pine, and wore hunter
green velvet. It was right after Christmas, and all the white lights were
still on the green trees in the church. It was beautiful."
Nicola is a poet. For her, it's not just a gift that transfigures the events
of her life or feeds her soul; it's something she does every day -- or tried
to. "Poetry is what I always wanted to do," she says. "I started writing
when I was probably 10 or 11, and kept journals of it." She loved both reading
and writing, which was, she concluded, "reason enough to be an English major."
Thinking she might ultimately teach, Nicola attended West Minster College
in New Wilmington, Pa., for her bachelor's, and later obtained a master's
at Bennington College in Vermont. "There was a professor at Westminster who
was a poet, and he was always sending out work. I didn't know anybody could
do that. I was like, 'You can send things out? People will publish this?'
You don't make any money at it, but who cares?" He also told her about Poet
Lore in Bethesda, Md., the oldest continuously published literary magazine
in the country. "I called them up and said, 'Could you use an editorial
assistant?'"; she remembers, "and they said, 'Yes, but you'll only make a
small stipend.'"
Academia momentarily behind her, the young woman followed her heart to Bethesda
and looked for a second job to pay the bills. "I don't know what made me
think of nannying, but I needed room and board, so I called an organization
called White House Nannies, and took this job with a family of five. The
parents were both lawyers, and I liked them immediately. It was an incredible
experience, because I met a lot of people in the poetry community in Washington.
Then a lot of people at Bennington were from the New York area, so that gave
me a circle in the city."
It is apparently a wider circle than one might guess. "New York has a huge
poetry community,"; Nicola says. "There's stuff happening all the time. There
are some readings of other people's works, but for the most part you go and
read your own. A lot of poets don't read their works very well, and David
says nobody but an actor should be reading it. But I'd rather read my own
than have somebody else do it, and I don't think I'm as bad as a lot of people."
It can be argued, in fact, that all poetry should be read aloud. "If you
look back in time to its roots, poetry is basically meant to be told. 'This
is a tale I'm going to tell you, and I'm going to tell it in rhyme, because
that way you'll remember it.'"
And despite the pandemic seduction of the Internet, there is also, she argues,
a kind of tactile imperative that she hopes will guarantee the survival of
books. "One thing about being a poet in an electronic age is that you can
go on the Web and find literary magazines, or even get your poems published.
But I think there will always be a need for people to buy books, because
there's something about holding a book in your hand. People love books. They
won't want to download it. What are they going to do with all that
paper?"
The nettlesome questions, of course, is how do poets survive in a world reluctant
to reward their efforts financially, or nurture that creative focus from
which their poems spring? Nicola has tackled the first aspect by working
four days at a consumer watchdog commission where she is in charge of
publications -- the most artistic slot there. Shifting gears from her day
job and tuning out distractions is more difficult. "That's very hard," she
concedes. "I still haven't mastered that. I'll come home and it's, 'What
shall we eat for dinner?' And then it's 'Let's watch CNN for a while.' There
will be the lost hours. It helps to have an understanding spouse, which I
do. Usually, I can start to write, but sometimes it doesn't happen until
very late, and sometimes it doesn't happen at all." She frequently gives
herself exercises, like writing a poem about mundane things, such as cooking
or shopping. "It's amazing what that can do. I remember thinking: I can't
do that. That's not what it's all about. It has to come to me. But then I
realized the more successful writers are those who make it part of their
everyday lives. If you wait for the muse to speak, she may never
come."
Nicola had her first paid publication just a few months ago. "They paid me
$10 a page," she says, laughing happily, "and it was a two-page poem."