There is no question but that the act of writing sonnets forces one to advance one’s education. Particularly in the liberal Arts. Beyond the mechanics of the form itself, I find myself delving into all manner of subjects in greater detail that I would otherwise have need to do. This would make little difference where involved, subjects about which I have quite a lot of curiosity. However on other subjects, it makes quite a difference.
Moreover, the process of such discovery tends to pique ones curiosity to such a degree as might produce quite a large pile of dead cats.
One feather in my cap:
I have discovered that my youthful forays into sonnet reading, and subsequently, sonnet writing, have educated me in more ways than I might have expected at a more tender age. My early education consisted simply of reading sonnets. Nothing more. And still, I managed to divine all of the necessary mechanics as well as more subtle elements of the form–the “Volta,” for example. Although I had no idea of the existence of the terms for such things until much, much later; still I acquired a proper understanding of their function.
So with that, I pat my younger self upon his back.
Aw, admit it, you’re just looking to see if I’m paying attention now. Seriously, that’s poetry right there — I don’t care who you are. Heh.