Poetry and Motions

When Michael Schwartz isn’t in a courtroom defending drug pushers or petty crooks, he often can be found focusing on the lyrical turns of a poem or the plot developments of his latest book.

Public defender by day, Schwartz devotes his nights to pounding out prose. It is a passion he hopes will someday result in published work--something beyond the poetry readings he gives at local bookstores. But in the meantime, it is a pursuit of self-exploration.

The native New Yorker’s writing is deeply personal. It reflects his experiences as a wide-eyed child raised in the big city, as well as his more recent struggles as a 33-year-old lawyer practicing in the suburbs of Los Angeles.

And it gives him a chance to flirt and play with words in a way few judges would ever allow in the courtroom.

“When I was in law school, they said I wrote too flowery,” Schwartz said. “Unless you are writing an appellate piece, the motions we do are a quick issue. You might want to do something real creative, but nobody is going to take note of it.”

Schwartz’s literary work is starting to be noticed, however. He has given readings at two Ventura bookstores and Cafe Voltaire, a coffeehouse in downtown Ventura.

He was recently invited to join a highly selective local writers’ workshop that was started by Shelley Savren, an Oxnard College English instructor.

And a few months ago, Schwartz began shopping around his first book, a children’s story about a 12-year-old New York boy who struggles with his Jewish faith, only to find appreciation for his religious heritage through a friendship with a Native American boy. So far, two publishers have expressed interest.

“He’s kind of a newcomer,” said Savren, who has read Schwartz’s poetry but not his book. “He has a real good sense of imagery, and his poems are really sensitive and tender. I think he has great potential.”

Ventura Bookstore owner Ed Elrod has sponsored two readings of Schwartz’s work in the last year.

“I wouldn’t say his work is highly polished yet,” he said. “But it’s gritty and honest. It’s very personal. He draws on his Jewish ethnicity and heritage.”

Ventura County Public Defender Kenneth Clayman attended one of the Ventura Bookstore readings. Already a fan of Schwartz’s legal work, Clayman was also impressed with his poems.

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“He’s talented,” Clayman said. “The poet laureate of the public defender’s office.”

For the modest lawyer-cum-lyricist, such accolades are heartening. Leaning back in a stiff coffeehouse chair recently and taking long drafts of a cold beer, Schwartz said he has no intention of abandoning his legal career to write poetry or fiction full time.

But to share his work with a wider audience would be the culmination of a dream he has chased since childhood.

“When I was a kid, I used to write song lyrics,” Schwartz said, smiling through a graying goatee that matches his close-cropped hair.

His interest in telling stories led to a degree in communications from Hofstra University in 1987. After graduating, he held down various jobs in broadcast news, including working as a cameraman for CNN in New York and as liaison between the union and management for Capital Cities/ABC Television.

Through his various job stints--which at times included tending bar and waiting tables--Schwartz continued writing. Gradually, he began to give voice to his verse at poetry readings in New York City.

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“I just started doing the poetry scene in Greenwich Village,” he said, before recalling one memorable night at an open reading at the Yugoslav Embassy.

“Right before I read, this guy got up. He was somebody well-known in a circle of poets in the Village at the time. And his name, ironically, was Max Schwartz. He closed his eyes and he’d get this [swaying] motion and he would just ramble.”

After the poet sat down, Schwartz tentatively approached the microphone. Heightening his nervousness, the organizer of the reading told him to “make it quick because we’re running out of time.”

In a soft voice, Schwartz began reading a poem he wrote about the slaughter of Ukrainian Jews during World War II and a recent slaying of two Israelis in the West Bank. Before he could finish, the other poet interrupted.

“Max blurted out, ‘That was so beautiful!’ ” Schwartz recalled. “That really boosted my self-esteem. . . . Everybody writes crap, but if you write enough crap, eventually a diamond comes out of it.”

Schwartz continued his writing at George Washington University, where he earned a law degree in 1993.

While churning out legal briefs for two Washington, D.C., judges, he also helped found a literary magazine.

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In December 1993, Schwartz took a position as deputy public defender in Ventura County. Despite handling dozens of felony cases, he has carved out time for his creative writing over the years.

“I like to think of myself as a storyteller,” he said. “I used to be a bartender--that’s what you do, you tell stories to your customers. Even in my closing arguments, my favorites are when I get to tell stories.”

Schwartz’s longest and most ambitious story is titled “The Medicine Pouch.” A 189-page children’s novel, it was inspired, in part, by a high-profile drug case the lawyer handled two years ago.

Two Native Americans from Washington state were arrested in November 1996 after local authorities found 250 pounds of hallucinogenic peyote plants inside their motor home.

Under state law, the chestnut-size cactus buds are illegal. But for some Native American tribes, peyote is sacred, and is used in religious ceremonies.

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Although the district attorney’s office decided not to file charges, authorities refused to give the buds back. Schwartz fought the seizure--and won.

After the case ended, Schwartz became increasingly involved in Native American cultural practices, which prompted him to look hard at his own faith, and fueled the central theme for his first book.

“In a way, it’s a coming-of-age [story],” Schwartz said. “And it is also about having pride in your differences.”

Schwartz banged out the first 30 to 40 pages in a month, often writing late into the night and during lunch breaks. He finished a rough draft in about six months and began sending query letters to publishers over the summer.

Schwartz is now awaiting a response and working on his second book, a nonfiction piece about the peyote case.

Away from the courthouse, where he just took over an assignment in Juvenile Court, Schwartz reads avidly and is involved in studying Judaism through his temple, Chabad of Ventura.

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The Oxnard resident occasionally lectures for a Ventura College course on race and religion and coaches Oxnard High School’s mock trial team.

Although he has been in a writing lull recently, he said, the sense of accomplishment that comes from finishing an entire book has buoyed his self-esteem and inspired him to take on new projects.

“I feel good about it,” he said. “I feel like I am at a point where I can be critical of my own work. The book, that was kind of a breakthrough. It’s not like it was easy, but it’s not as intimidating as it seems.”

Schwartz offers this advice for other would-be writers: “Just sit down and put your thoughts on paper. You might have the big picture in your mind, but just look at it one line at a time.”