MFA Notes, Uncategorized

MFA Notes – Form and Function

form and function in non fictionQuick notes: form and function in non-fiction

Recently, I graduated from Lesley University with an MFA in creative writing, and I decided that I wanted to share what I learned in a series of blog posts.

I decided to share for two reasons:

1) My notes, although not too detailed, could possibly  help other writers.

2) Rewriting my notes forces me to re-read and re-think everything I learned, so it’s a win-win.

But before we dive in, please keep two things in mind:

1) These notes are neither complete nor perfect. The classes at Lesley were not typical lecture/note classes; the classes were filled with writing and thinking exercises and often this left no time for notes (in a good way). However, even with that, these sparse notes, I do believe, could still offer value.

2) I may, from time to time, include actual writing prompts from the classes, please bare with me, they’re first drafts and were done in the moment.

I hope you enjoy this series of notes and if you have any questions about the notes, Lesley University, or MFA’s, please feel free to contact me.

Form and Function in Non-Fiction

Non-fiction: Unnecessary factual: Make it real, but hyper-real. “But then, in the earliest hours of that morning in November, a Sunday morning, certain foreign sounds impinged on the normal nightly Holcomb noises–on the kneeing hysteria of coyotes, the dry scrape of scuttling tumbleweed, the racing, receding wail of locomotive whistles.” – In Cold Blood – Truman Capote

When writing memoir there are always two narrators – There’s you in the past that you’re writing about, and there’s the you of today, writing the story and having already been through the experiences you’re writing about.

If you commit yourself to telling a story, then commit to telling the whole story. Don’t let the tragedy be at the edges.

Form -> Follows -> Function

What is the function of this piece?

What form will help with the function?

Click here to see more MFA Notes

Recommended book for this section: The Situation and the Story, by Vivian Gornick.

Picture: Flickr/Denise Krebs

MFA Notes, Uncategorized

MFA Notes: The Subconscious Editor

the subconscious editor lesley university mfa low residencyQuick Notes: The Importance of the subconscious editor

Recently, I graduated from Lesley University with an MFA in creative writing, and I decided that I wanted to share what I learned in a series of blog posts.

I decided to share for two reasons:

1) My notes, although not too detailed, could possibly  help other writers.

2) Rewriting my notes forces me to re-read and re-think everything I learned, so it’s a win-win.

But before we dive in, please keep two things in mind:

1) These notes are neither complete nor perfect. The classes at Lesley were not typical lecture/note classes; the classes were filled with writing and thinking exercises and often this left no time for notes (in a good way). However, even with that, these sparse notes, I do believe, could still offer value.

2) I may, from time to time, include actual writing prompts from the classes, please bare with me, they’re first drafts and were done in the moment.

I hope you enjoy this series of notes and if you have any questions about the notes, Lesley University, or MFA’s, please feel free to contact me.

The Subconscious Editor

Your subconscious editor (who you are) writes, and the reader reads with their subconscious editor (who they are).

The voice from the subconscious editor: Go into your natural voice and use that.

How far back in time does one look at the soil from where a tree has grown?

If you write with your honest humanity, then people will read with their honest humanity.

All stories are local first, but are universal once it makes a connection.

The first “I” shouldn’t be you, it should be the “seeing eye.”

It’s not about you, it’s about the observations from your prism.

If you have writer’s block then you need to inspire your soul.

It’s the subconscious editor who writes. You need to live a writerly life and feed your subconscious editor.

Where does the subconscious editor come from? – It is the sum of who you are looking back at you.

What is the loam that made you who you are?

How do you view the world? And why?

What is your subconscious editor’s quest?

The subconscious editor makes the world is sees.

Click here to see more MFA Notes

Recommended book for this section: Drumblair, by Rachel Manley.

Picture: Flickr/Graham Holliday

MFA Notes, Uncategorized

MFA Notes: Life as a Public Writer

life as a public writerQuick Notes: Lesley University MFA: Q & A: Life as a public writer

Recently, I graduated from Lesley University with an MFA in creative writing, and I decided that I wanted to share what I learned in a series of blog posts.

I decided to share for two reasons:

1) My notes, although not too detailed, could possibly  help other writers.

2) Rewriting my notes forces me to re-read and re-think everything I learned, so it’s a win-win.

But before we dive in, please keep two things in mind:

1) These notes are neither complete nor perfect. The classes at Lesley were not typical lecture/note classes; the classes were filled with writing and thinking exercises and often this left no time for notes (in a good way). However, even with that, these sparse notes, I do believe, could still offer value.

2) I may, from time to time, include actual writing prompts from the classes, please bare with me, they’re first drafts and were done in the moment.

I hope you enjoy this series of notes and if you have any questions about the notes, Lesley University, or MFA’s, please feel free to contact me.

Life as a Public Writer

Writer down your artistic statement: Who am I as a writer?

Just keep writing. If you don’t write for a while, don’t beat yourself up, forgive yourself and then keep writing. The only thing you control is the work.

[Separate the business-hat from the writer-hat.]

*Work shopping – Just because a piece can make it through a workshop without too much objection or abuse doesn’t mean it’s good. The good stuff should raise objections, it should offend and should invite abuse. (This doesn’t mean to write sloppy. But often it’s the “safe,” writing which is the least objectionable.*

Poetry is a performative act.

You’re constantly changing as a writer.

The readers and critics really only know an idea of me, not the real me.

Don’t let bad reviews get to you. Don’t take reviews personally-good or bad. Never give up!

Click here to see more MFA Notes

Recommended book for this section: Unless It Moves the Human Heart, by Roger Rosenblatt.

Picture: Flickr/Damian Gadal

Best Of, Blogishness, Blogishness, Book Notes, MFA Notes

Annotative Essay on the book: ‘Netherland,’ by Joseph O’Neill

Why We Read

netherland joseph o'neill annotative essay

An Annotative Essay on: Netherland, by Joseph O’Neill

            Different books are read for different reasons. Textbooks are read so that we can be informed in what matters most to us: math, biology, philosophy, etc. Suspense and thriller books so that we can be entertained by what interests us: vampires, the mafia, war, etc. Romance novels so that we can be enthralled in what eludes us: love, passion, desire, etc. And the classics so that we can be left pondering why certain things matter, interest, and elude us.

“Yet something eluded the book itself which kept it from entering such a category.”

What about a book, though, which fits into none of the previously outlined categories? Or what about a book that fits into all of them? Or half of them? This is where Netherland lays. Although I thoroughly enjoyed the book by Joseph O’Neill, when trying to classify it I ran into trouble. Well written and a page-turner, though not as entertaining as a Dean Koontz or Stephen King novel, nor as thought provoking as a classic like Catcher in the Rye; where then, does that leave a book, and all others like Netherland? It is classics which contain ‘All of the above.’ Netherland, I believe, had the makings of a classic. It had suspense, mystery, it informed me in subtle ways about life and philosophy, it enthralled me, though briefly, in passion and desire and things which elude the typical life. All things which make a classic. Yet something eluded the book itself which kept it from entering such a category. Thus, I believe Netherland joins the throws of bastard children. It fits nowhere. And this is where it gave the most instruction.

Even though I believe Netherland to be a good, though, unremarkable book, there was a lot to be learned. Both from the parts I enjoyed and disliked. The first issue, and eventual learning, I dislodged from Netherland was the art or dis-art of description. There were many descriptions which made me stop and appreciate the care and revisions in which the author must have gone through to create such a finely tuned well-crafted sentence; while simultaneously, there were several descriptions that I simply skipped over because they were simply, or un-simply, too much.

“As I repeatedly went forth with him and began to understand the ignorance and contradictions and language difficulties with which he contended, and the doubtful sources of his information and the seemingly bottomless history and darkness out of which the dishes of New York emerge, the deeper grew my suspicion that his work finally consisted of minting or perpetuating and in any event circulating misconceptions about his subject and in this way adding to the endless perplexity of the world.”

The above is merely an example of an eighty word sentence that the author used to get across a simple idea. It is one of many such examples. My issue with such writing is that if there’s a forty-five word sentence about how angry a person is, but by word eight I realize that the author is simply describing a basic state of anger; I say to myself “I get it,” and simply skip ahead. Why would I need to read the other thirty-seven words?

“I can only imagine if O’Neill had managed to write the entire book in such an unassuming yet powerful way.”

I’m reminded, as well, of a one hundred and seventy-nine word sentence that appeared in Netherland. Now, I have to believe that there had to be an easier, more flowing way, to say what O’Neill felt he needed to say than in a one hundred and seventy-nine word sentence. I find myself asking: why? Why did this writer deem it necessary to write in such a garrulous way?   Was it simply to show off his aptitude for verbosity? And the thing is, the sentence in question, is unnecessary. Though very well written, it perhaps could be used stand alone or in a shorter piece. But in a novel length work, when working through a story and trying to get to the meat of the matter, and trying to be entertained, and trying to learn, and trying to be enthralled, such long-windedness comes across as literary arrogance and, perhaps even, laziness. I’m reminded of the Einstein quote, “If you can’t explain it to a six year old, you don’t understand it yourself.” If Einstein insists on conveying quantum physics as simple as possible, then why is it that authors insist on convey emotions as complex as possible? Can anger, hatred, love or happiness truly be more complicated than the cosmos?

I’m also reminded of Faulkner who self-admittedly wrote some of his work, in such a way, only for the sake of making it as confusing as possible. I have to, again, ask myself why? What is the point of such an endeavor? I understand the aspect of forcing a reader to figure out something on their own. And I support such a thing when done right, and when necessary. But those moments need to come intermittently and only work best, or seem to have a purpose, when it involves something meaningful and worthwhile. This certainly wasn’t the case for Faulkner and it often wasn’t the case for O’Neill. The additional problem that arose regarding this in Netherland was that O’Neill often got it right when writing his descriptions, which made it so much more frustrating when he got it wrong. A few of his descriptions which I believe were perfectly written and which I pictured perfectly in my mind (both happen to be only fifty-one words):

“He believed in owning the impetus of a situation, in keeping the other guy off balance, in proceeding by way of sidesteps. If he saw an opportunity to act with suddenness or take you by surprise or push you into the dark, he’d take it, almost as a matter of principle.”

“Our lecturer, a destroyed-looking man in his sixties, appeared apologetically before us, and I am certain that a compassionate understanding tacitly arose among the students that we should do everything to assist this individual, an agreeable and no doubt clever man whose life had plainly come to some kind of ruin.”

“If a powerful work can be created using 50,000 words, then I find myself wondering why it sometimes takes people 150,000 or more.”

I can only imagine if O’Neill had managed to write the entire book in such an unassuming yet powerful way. Surely, then it would have made it into my category of classics. But alas, O’Neill had left me skipping sentences and entire paragraphs because even though I enjoyed the style and language they were written in, I found them unnecessary. This led me to my first lesson from the novel and into an inquiry of my own writing.

One of the things I’ve constantly struggled with, and something I believe all writers struggle with, is the appropriate dimensions of a description. How much is too much and how much is too little? The word count for some of my favorite books ranges between 35,000 to 65,000 words—and you can bet that in those books I didn’t skip over a single paragraph, sentence or word. In books such as those, which in the scheme of things have such miniscule word counts, there has to be a severe economy of words—but done in a way without losing anything. If a powerful work can be created using 50,000 words, then I find myself wondering why it sometimes takes people 150,000 or more. This is what I struggle to do in my own writing. Often, when editing my pieces I struggle with the descriptions. I will write a nice basic two sentence long description, erase that, and then write a beautiful three paragraph description, replace that with an abrupt ten word description, delete the description all together, and then in the end, try to find something in the middle. I never feel happy with what I’m left with, and that’s my struggle: trying to find out how to say something as simple, yet eloquently as possible. I can’t say how specifically, or precisely what, Netherland has taught me regarding this; however, since the book provided, in my mind, perfect examples of both extremes, it has made me more aware of it and left me pondering over ways to find the happy medium.

For more annotative essays and other book related stuff click here.

 

MFA Notes

MFA Notes: Creating Compassion for Unlikable Characters

compassion for unlikable charactersQuick Notes: How to Create Compassion for Unlikable Characters

Recently, I graduated from Lesley University with an MFA in creative writing, and I decided that I wanted to share what I learned in a series of blog posts.

I decided to share for two reasons:

1) My notes, although not too detailed, could possibly  help other writers.

2) Rewriting my notes forces me to re-read and re-think everything I learned, so it’s a win-win.

But before we dive in, please keep two things in mind:

1) These notes are neither complete nor perfect. The classes at Lesley were not typical lecture/note classes; the classes were filled with writing and thinking exercises and often this left no time for notes (in a good way). However, even with that, these sparse notes, I do believe, could still offer value.

2) I may, from time to time, include actual writing prompts from the classes, please bare with me, they’re first drafts and were done in the moment.

I hope you enjoy this series of notes and if you have any questions about the notes, Lesley University, or MFA’s, please feel free to contact me.

Can your Hero be an unlikable character?

Don’t turn a character into a marionette. You’re writing about people, not puppets (unless you really are writing about puppets, in that case, good luck!) When crafting a character though, and the character is an unlikable character (in fiction, or primarily, nonfiction) it’s important to show them as a real person and not just a one-dimensional, marionette, or a typical “bad guy.”

Pure Evil

Darth Vader

Cruella Deville

Captain Hook

Unlikable

Tony Soprano

Jessie Pinkman

James Frey

 -Pure Evil: Don’t have their own story, but helps move the story along.

-Unlikable: May be evil, but only unlikable because we have compassion for them because of their stories. (Tony Soprano and Jessie Pinkman are really great examples of unlikable characters that a reader/view roots for. Tony Soprano is the head of a Mafia family, he’s killed dozens of people; however, when you watch the show, you can’t help but root for him. The same goes for Jessie Pinkman from Breaking Bad. Yes Jessie’s a drug dealer, but he’s a drug dealer that we feel compassion for and that we actually end up rooting for–nobody roots for Darth Vader, or Captain Hook!)

Vulnerability: shows their foibles, character flaws, why they are they way they are. We need to show these about the unlikable characters in our writing to make them a tiny bit likable, or at least understandable. We may not like their actions, but we need to understand why they do them.

[You don’t have to make unlikable characters likable, you just have to make them more understandable.]

We need to understand their fear, frustrations, and worries.

Final tip: Imagine the universe in the raindrops. Show the big picture through the small details. When approaching a bigger issue, start with the smaller details. (Introduce big ideas in small ways.)

Click here to see more MFA Notes

Recommended book for this section: The Negative Trait Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Character Flaws, by Angela Ackerman.

Picture: Flickr/Mali Mish

MFA Notes

MFA Notes: The Art of Juxtaposition

the art of juxtapositionQuick Notes: The Art of Juxtaposition in Creative Writing

Recently, I graduated from Lesley University with an MFA in creative writing, and I decided that I wanted to share what I learned in a series of blog posts.

I decided to share for two reasons:

1) My notes, although not too detailed, could possibly  help other writers.

2) Rewriting my notes forces me to re-read and re-think everything I learned, so it’s a win-win.

But before we dive in, please keep two things in mind:

1) These notes are neither complete nor perfect. The classes at Lesley were not typical lecture/note classes; the classes were filled with writing and thinking exercises and often this left no time for notes (in a good way). However, even with that, these sparse notes, I do believe, could still offer value.

2) I may, from time to time, include actual writing prompts from the classes, please bare with me, they’re first drafts and were done in the moment.

I hope you enjoy this series of notes and if you have any questions about the notes, Lesley University, or MFA’s, please feel free to contact me.

Juxtaposition

Juxtaposition is placement. It’s not metaphor or simile. Instead of having to spell things out or directly say something, you can put two things side by side and the juxtaposition can say it for you.

Juxtaposition between words and pictures.

Juxtaposition between facts and humor.

Juxtaposition between time; between tones; and between voices.

“Feel free to make fun of yourself.” – Sherman Alexie

“Art is the means of transferring feeling from one man’s heart to another.” – Tolstoy

“Openings are seeing someone for the first time.” – Richard Goodman

*Take out everything that doesn’t have to do with the story.*

In the beginning – raise questions, provide tension, arouse suspicion, create suspense, establish expectations.

In class writing prompt: Starting in the middle: “Jack had challenged me, again. Another brotherly competition he said. We had already discovered that he was the faster runner, the best.”

See different levels of reality in one situation…

Click here to see more MFA Notes

Recommended book for this section: On Writing Well, by William Zinsser.

Picture: Flickr/Caleb Roenigk

MFA Notes

MFA Notes: Dialogue Across Genres

dialgue across genresQuick Notes: the importance of narrative dialogue

Recently, I graduated from Lesley University with an MFA in creative writing, and I decided that I wanted to share what I learned in a series of blog posts.

I decided to share for two reasons:

1) My notes, although not too detailed, could possibly  help other writers.

2) Rewriting my notes forces me to re-read and re-think everything I learned, so it’s a win-win.

But before we dive in, please keep two things in mind:

1) These notes are neither complete nor perfect. The classes at Lesley were not typical lecture/note classes; the classes were filled with writing and thinking exercises and often this left no time for notes (in a good way). However, even with that, these sparse notes, I do believe, could still offer value.

2) I may, from time to time, include actual writing prompts from the classes, please bare with me, they’re first drafts and were done in the moment.

I hope you enjoy this series of notes and if you have any questions about the notes, Lesley University, or MFA’s, please feel free to contact me.

Dialogue Across Genres

The dignity of an iceberg is that 90% of it is unseen, underwater. In writing, you, the writer, need to know and see everything, but sometimes it’s about what a character doesn’t do, or doesn’t say.

What dialogue can show: information, relationship, character intention, character personality, background, place, time, and produces tension.

How a character talks: diction, rhythm, slang, lingo, pauses, all tells us something.

Subtext

What’s below the surface?

What is left out and not shown or said?

Words -> Voice -> Image -> Action

Dialogue should be moving the story forward.

Dialogue needs to be accurate and realistic.

Click here to see more MFA Notes

Recommended book for this section: Write Great Fiction – Dialogue, by Gloria Kempton.

Picture: Flickr/Dmitry Ryzhkov

MFA Notes

MFA Notes: The Inspiration and Imperative of Place

the inspiration and imperative of place in creative writingQuick notes: the inspiration and imperative of place in creative writing

Recently, I graduated from Lesley University with an MFA in creative writing, and I decided that I wanted to share what I learned in a series of blog posts.

I decided to share for two reasons:

1) My notes, although not too detailed, could possibly  help other writers.

2) Rewriting my notes forces me to re-read and re-think everything I learned, so it’s a win-win.

But before we dive in, please keep two things in mind:

1) These notes are neither complete nor perfect. The classes at Lesley were not typical lecture/note classes; the classes were filled with writing and thinking exercises and often this left no time for notes (in a good way). However, even with that, these sparse notes, I do believe, could still offer value.

2) I may, from time to time, include actual writing prompts from the classes, please bare with me, they’re first drafts and were done in the moment.

I hope you enjoy this series of notes and if you have any questions about the notes, Lesley University, or MFA’s, please feel free to contact me.

The Inspiration and Imperative of Place

Nature abhors a vacuum.

Writing also abhors a vacuum.

Combine place and people. Allow one to stand in for the other. They can highlight one another.

Landscape can invoke memoires and emotions.

Place matters when setting a scene. Two people in a restaurant are different than two people in the woods.

In Class Writing: Place: Raining:

“It pours down, each droplet seeping into the ground, into my uniform, into me. It begins to pool. The ground is full, my boots are filled, neither of us have anywhere else to go. I must stay put, guard duty knows no weather. The rain must rain, it knows nothing else.”

“A flare goes into the sky, highlighting a thousand drops in mid-air, I look around, moving between the drops, between the trees, my enemies approach. It is merely a training exercise, but we are both wet, tired and angry. We need enemies. We both raise our rifles, water flows into our forward sights. We fire. Neither hits.”

*Use all your senses, if you can.*

Click here to see more MFA Notes

Recommended book for this section: Description & Setting, by Ron Rozelle.

Picture: Flickr/madame.furie

MFA Notes, Uncategorized

MFA Notes – Journalistic Imperative

journalistic imperativeMFA Notes from Lesley University

What does it take to be a journalist?

Recently, I graduated from Lesley University with an MFA in creative writing, and I decided that I wanted to share what I learned in a series of blog posts.

I decided to share for two reasons:

1) My notes, although not too detailed, could possibly  help other writers.

2) Rewriting my notes forces me to re-read and re-think everything I learned, so it’s a win-win.

But before we dive in, please keep two things in mind:

1) These notes are neither complete nor perfect. The classes at Lesley were not typical lecture/note classes; the classes were filled with writing and thinking exercises and often this left no time for notes (in a good way). However, even with that, these sparse notes, I do believe, could still offer value.

2) I may, from time to time, include actual writing prompts from the classes, please bare with me, they’re first drafts and were done in the moment.

I hope you enjoy this series of notes and if you have any questions about the notes, Lesley University, or MFA’s, please feel free to contact me.

Journalistic Imperative

Always collect more data and research than you need. The goal should be to use the top 15%. The other 85% isn’t wasted; you need it all to be able to find that top 15%.

Types of research: Travel, eating, interviews, online, archival data, retrace steps/restage, public records, journals, immersion, photos, letters, etc.

Involuntary memory: a smell, sight, touch or sound, that reminds us of something or someone.

Eventually you’ll come across information and research that contradicts one another. This can be good, because where there’s contradiction there’s a story. (Also, if you come across two things that contradict each other, you don’t have to chose one or the other, you can report both–or dive into the story of the contradiction.) If one side of the contradiction feels better than the other, go with your gut.

*Research from all angles and perspectives*

*What’s the theme?*

Different narration perspectives: The me as a child, the me now. My friend, my brother, father, etc. The “we” and “us.” Don’t use these different voices as a gimmick, though.

How do you know when you’re done researching? Or when you’re done with your project?

  • Deadlines.
  • When the dots are all finally connected.
  • When things start repeating themselves; if five people say “blue,” and then so does number six, then maybe you can be like, “Okay, it’s blue. I can move on to something else.

Click here to see more MFA Notes

Recommended book for this section: The Situation and the Story, by Vivian Gornick.