I loved this book. I think I loved it more because I listened to it rather than reading it. Fry's warm, plummy voice and his tonal variations - now chummy, now wry, now sentimental, now no-nonsense - add so much to the experience.
And the book itself is delightful. If you're a lover of words, of language (particularly, though not necessarily exclusively, of the English language), then you will at least appreciate this book, and probably love it as much as I did, even if you never end up writing a poem as a result of reading it.
For that, of course, is Fry's main goal here: to get more people to write poems. Not to publish them (necessarily) - this is not a 'How to Get Your Poetry Published' manual at all, at all. In fact, he himself points out that while he has written much poetry, it's all for his own pleasure - the pleasure of the creation, and of the subsequent enjoyment. He hasn't published any of it.
No, this is a different sort of How To text altogether, wherein Fry teaches the reader how to write poems. You might think that this is something that anyone can do, and to a small degree, you'd be right. But if you were to try it without what this book can teach you (whether you get it from this book or not), you would be severely handicapped. It would be like trying to paint a picture without knowing anything about the wheel of colours, how paints mix, what kind of brushstrokes have what kind of effect, and so on.
After a short apologia for why one would - and in his opinion, should - write poetry, and some preparatory remarks, Fry starts with the nuts and bolts of prosody (which, by the way, is an example of the sort of term he introduces, smoothly and painlessly, throughout the book) with the elements of meter: the different kinds of poetic 'foot', and the many ways those feet can be joined together into a line.
Before moving into how lines can be joined together, Fry detours into a discussion of the different kinds of rhyming (yes, there are different kinds, from strict to none and everything in between).
From there, he comes back to form, but now in bigger chunks: how poetic lines (as described earlier) can be - or more to the point, have been - put together in various ways to create various poetic forms. A few of the forms, or at least their names, are familiar - sonnet, limerick, haiku - but they're all reviewed and illustrated with clever little self-referential versions that poetically describe themselves. The book's worth reading (or listening to) just for the fun of reading/hearing those.
Fry also provides opportunities for the listener (or reader) to practice techniques for themselves, with short exercises scattered throughout the book. This, I feel, is the part that lends itself least well to the audiobook format, at least for me, because I was listening while I was commuting (as I expect many people do) and so wasn't really in a position to whip out a notebook and write down an example of iambic pentameter, or a rhyme for "girl".
But even if you don't write down a thing, never end up writing a word of poetry, this book is totally worth the listen (or read) - just for the experience of understanding the sorts of things that can go into a poem, and help you appreciate why a particular poem - or really, even a set of song lyrics - works well for you or doesn't.
This may be the only book I've ever listened to that I'm planning to go back to. I enjoyed it - and enjoyed learning from it - that much.
Highly, highly recommended!