New to Haiku: Advice for Beginners-R.C. Thomas

Today at New to Haiku, let’s welcome R.C. Thomas. He is the current Laureate of Words in Plymouth, UK, and is using his platform to promote haiku. A widely published haiku poet, R.C. is the author of three poetry collections and has collaborated on a fourth.

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, Richard! How did you come to learn about haiku?

My first encounter with haiku would have been at school. I don’t remember a lot about it but I’m aware I came out of school feeling haiku were three-line poems and I was neither here nor there about them. I got heavily into the Beat Generation in my early twenties as I was starting to find my voice as a writer, and through Jack Kerouac’s ‘American Haikus’, particularly his recorded readings of them, I realised this evocative little form was generally overlooked, so I sunk my teeth in.

Do you have a haiku mentor? What advice did they give you? Did someone else’s haiku greatly influence your own?

Alan Summers was one of the first writers to see my haiku. I’d learned to read haiku before I could properly write it. As such, I’d published some of Alan’s haiku in an online journal I was working for at the time––Thief. I sent him a manuscript of mine and, to his credit, he very patiently identified each haiku’s strengths whilst pointing out where they didn’t work, particularly in their syllable count. This, in particular, opened things up, and I started tweaking and getting a few published. Life got in the way then and I came back to haiku in my thirties with a much better understanding of the form, and reconnected with Alan through social media. He has continued to be very supportive of my work and a fountain of knowledge.

In terms of influences, I’m not sure there are any particular haiku poets. I think, for me, I’d found my poetic voice before returning seriously to haiku in my thirties, and this perhaps has had the most influence––I like to think I found a way to bring that voice into my haiku without losing sight of what the form needs. If anything, with haiku poets, I tend to lean towards the more playful poets. Imagery has always been everything for me, in haiku, free verse, prose . . .

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

If the last train to the moon––which is my preferred writing spot––has already left, then I actually do a lot of writing in bed on my laptop. I can hear the chiropractors screaming, but as I have M.E. and fibromyalgia, over recent years I’ve found this more comfortable than at a desk or on the sofa. I also find I am able to zone out from the rest of the world this way and be fully immersed in my writing. There’s something about the cosiness of it. I put my headphones on and sink into my own world.

How do you approach reading haiku?

I try not to read more than a handful at a time to allow the headspace to sit in those haiku––to allow them to unravel and layer up and unravel and layer up. It can be hard to resist not seeking out the haiku tricks on first read, but I try to read them from ‘beginning’ to ‘end’ and take them at face value first before rereading and exploring them for their cut, connections and multiple meanings.

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

When learning to write haiku––in fact, I still play by this rule––I think it’s really important to not try to guide the form, let the form guide you. When poets are used to writing free verse, they’re used to conceiving whatever idea they like and finding a way to make it work in a poem. Although the result of a haiku is, of course, more zen than western fixed forms of poetry, it’s still a form with a structure and specific techniques, and markers which need to be hit for the form to function and create that ‘aha!’ moment. If you obsess over the haiku doing exactly as per your first thought, you will often stand in the way of the poem––and yourself––and, as such, miss incredible opportunities to not only get your haiku to work with particular word choices, phrasing, or line order, but for it to explode. Of course, first-thought haiku do happen, especially when you’ve been writing haiku for a while and that rhythm and breath and ma come to you second nature, but more often than not, your haiku should be a journey. So what if it does go to a completely different place? Embrace it. That original idea can be used to write another one.

What are some of the fun ways that you have used or experienced haiku?

I loved the idea of public haiku installations but had never seen one in person. Whilst I’m Plymouth UK Laureate of Words 2025 – 2027, I decided to take advantage of this position to create a ‘haiku walk’ of such which we titled Hai Coo’s Trail––a temporary installation of haiku on vinyl decals in the windows of businesses around the city.

What is one of your favorite haiku that you have written? Can you share the story behind it?

silver lining—
what the storm takes
from the magpie’s fable

Joint First Place, Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest 2022;
Haiku Commentary, 6/9/22

We receive the company of a lot of magpies in our communal garden here in Stoke, Plymouth. Being in the UK, we receive the company of a lot of storms too. After a particularly wild night, I woke to the bins all having tipped over in the wind. An inconvenience for most. A magpie, however, doesn’t seem bothered by storms, or bins. In fact, I think it revels in them. There was something kind of sad, but hopeful, in the magpie that flittered and scampered amidst the storm’s wreckage. This hopefulness brought about ‘silver lining’ which, of course, nods to the fable reference of the third line. It took a few attempts to get the phrasing of lines two and three to work in a way which felt satisfying both in their fluidity and layers. The word ‘takes’ was really important with its positioning in the poem to infer the storm and the magpie in the act of stealing––the storm taking notes from the magpie’s fabled act, perhaps. There are lots of ways to read it. Going back to what I was saying about letting the haiku guide you, although it might sound like I had a pre-fixed idea here, this was actually a case of having no preconception, no intention when I woke up to write a haiku at all, yet here were all these pieces scattered––strewn before me like the rubbish thrown from the bins––which I let play around each other, settling themselves in order when they were ready. It was a very organic process in that sense.

What haiku-related project are you currently working on that brings you joy? What do you like about it?

I’m currently working on a couple of things. I have collection of haibun written as a dream diary which was finished a while ago, but you know, it takes a while to find a home for these things. As I mentioned, I’d also been working on a temporary haiku installation around Plymouth called Hai Coo’s Trail. I ran a haiku workshop for adults in February and beyond that they honed their haiku to be part of the installation. Most had not written haiku before and some had not written poetry before. I also contributed some haiku and solo-tan renga. These were on display around the city centre and surrounding areas as vinyl decals throughout April and May, launched for Sound: Plymouth Poetry Festival on April 10th, and placed in the windows of businesses. I got to design the decal and, with Literature Works, who facilitate the laureateship, we came up with this idea of a mascot—Hai Coo the Pigeon—which I illustrated. So, Hai Coo appeared on each of the decals and there was a QR code for passersby to scan with their camera phones to learn more about haiku and how to read it, and about the authors, as well as encouraging them to write their own haiku using a unique ‘secret kigo’ included on each decal.

I’ve read that you enjoy writing song lyrics and have performed your poetry to live musicians. How do you decide which poems to pair up with the music? Have you read haiku at these events? Do you have advice for haiku poets interested in spoken word events and musical collaborations?

This is another way I like to experience haiku and literature in general. When I’ve done this, it’s been dependent on the musician and the instrument I’ve been collaborating with as to what poems I read. Often though, I’ve generally read what I’ve been excited about and the musicians have worked to me. I’ve read my haiku to live guitar, as well as to soundscapes and instrumentals that I’ve programmed myself, and I recently performed with music and a projector screen with the haiku written out alongside illustrations. I feel these extra dynamics lift haiku and make them more accessible in a live setting. For that reason, I don’t read haiku very often at ‘regular’ poetry readings if these facilities aren’t available to me.

In terms of advice, if it’s a ‘regular’ spoken word event, then find a form of words that succinctly lets the audience know what you’re about to do without overexplaining (it gets into a tricky area when you start getting heckled for not writing in 5-7-5 [syllables]––something which put me off reading my haiku at ‘regular’ events for years––so you’ll need to find a way of politely knocking that on the head before you start). And then, try and find a way of making it accessible for non-haiku readers and writers. Maybe that’s with some sort of visual or sound element, or perhaps by weaving anecdotes or facts about the subject between the haiku. Succinctly though. Always succinctly. No one enjoys the poet who takes longer to earnestly explain the poem than it takes to read the poem itself. YAWN. And read every haiku twice, adding emphasis to different words or lines each time. And read slowly.

You have authored three collections of poetry––The Strangest Thankyou, Zygote Poems, Faunistics––and co-authored a fourth, Infinity Strings. What advice do you have for haiku poets trying to pull their first poetry collection together?

With my haiku collection, Faunistics, I found it useful to sort through the haiku that I had and see where the repeating themes were. I pulled these out and made them the focus of what would become that collection, fleshing it out with more haiku on the wildlife theme. Themes can, of course, be looser, but it’s good to have a sense of something keeping the collection together as a cohesive unit. I’d say don’t rush, either. Spend time crafting your poems. Do the ‘submissions circuit’ too. Although you shouldn’t always be seeking approval from others, editors usually know what they are talking about, and their inclusion of your poem in the forthcoming issue of their journal will, especially with a form like haiku, indicate that the poem is working. Similarly, find other writers you trust to read your work and provide feedback.

As part of your tenure as Plymouth UK Laureate of Words, you have been giving haiku workshops. What have these experiences taught you about teaching haiku? Can you give us an example of one or two of your lessons?

Teaching haiku is really fun. Literature Works, who provided the platform for my recent workshop for adults, cunningly titled it ‘The Secrets of Haiku’. This was very fitting, as it really did feel like I was revealing secrets. I got a bit of a kick out of showing people how haiku aren’t just three lines on a page and there’s all these layers and connections going on, and both the surprise and interest the participants showed.

Some of the participants had come across haiku in the 5-7-5 format we’re taught at school, and some had never dabbled in haiku at all. By removing the 5-7-5 / seventeen syllable structure, I find that it becomes easier for people to access the other, arguably more important, techniques like kire and ma. I realise I might be preaching to the choir here, but as I told my students, by focusing so heavily on the syllable count, the mind isn’t able to consider the other elements of haiku–– it gets distracted and fixated. So, one of the first things I say is to forget the syllable count altogether; then once there are words on a page, we make it more concise and start stripping away the unnecessary words and syllables. I encourage them to aim for eleven to thirteen syllables as an end result.

I also completely immerse participants in haiku at my workshops, in my presentation, as well as having them dotted around the room on the walls, books and journals to hand as and when they want them, printed handouts, etc., haiku by all different authors, contemporary and classic, in different styles. The idea being that the more someone reads haiku, the more likely they are to start falling into that meditative haiku breath and for it to become natural. Because of how academia teaches haiku, in this clunky and stilted manner, it sets students up for failure really, so there can be some bad habits they’re left stuck with. I try to throw these out the window early on in the session, so the rest of our time can be focused on refining.

Something else I really pay attention to is creating connections between the two parts of the haiku through words and meanings. One way to do this is to identify words in the first draft which may have multiple meanings. If there are none, I encourage participants to look for alternative words that will do this, and then, similarly, play around with the phrasing and the order of the lines, to identify whether the poem is doing everything it can. Sometimes, swapping something around can unveil another layer. I use the following haiku of mine, published in Frogpond, 46.1, Winter 2023, as an example:

I like to use this as an example as there’s lots of wordplay and mirroring going on with the culinary and emotional references. I provide my adult workshop participants with a handout which hypothetically breaks this haiku right down and builds it up again, so my students can see how I approach writing a haiku myself.

This is just the tip of the iceberg, of course, and we explore a lot more, time permitting. That said, I find a workshop is only the beginning of the haiku journey, and it takes commitment and practice to really crack it. Often, it’s a case of practice and persistence, and then that ‘functioning’ haiku will come out of nowhere when you least expect it.

R.C. Thomas lives in Plymouth, UK. He has four books of poetry: The Strangest Thankyou (Cultured Llama, 2012), Zygote Poems (Cultured Llama, 2015), Faunistics (2024), and Infinity Strings (with Hifsa Ashraf, 2025). His haiku ‘silver lining’ was shortlisted for a Touchstone Award for Individual Poems in 2022. He was selected as one of the ‘Top Creative Haiku Authors’ in Europe in 2021 and 2022 consecutively, received joint first place in the Sharpening the Green Pencil Haiku Contest 2022, and first place in the Third Maya Lyubenova Haiku Contest. He’s Plymouth Laureate of Words 2025-27.

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