I like the flags, and I liked the view from outer space (it went well with my Northern Night theme), but I didn't want to pay for it, so I've gone to a new plain-Jane counter. It's free at the moment, and hopefully, my free trial will not expire.
Just remember: there were 81 visitors from 6 countries on the old counter!!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
False Starts
I have something I must write. It's for an assignment, but it's giving me a bit of trouble.
I've made two false starts. That expression comes from the world of racing. On your mark, get set . . . but before the starter can pull the trigger, a runner takes a step, too eager to get going.
Two stories. Five and a half pages. I've abandoned it all. That's right, just let it go. Maybe I'll go back to it some day, maybe turn it into a poem, but I doubt it. It just wasn't good. That's all there is to it.
On the other hand, I think of it as priming the pump. I was writing, putting words down on "paper," getting the thoughts flowing in a fictional stream. So although those first two efforts were flotsom and jetsom, they prepared the way for better writing.
I'm still not sure that the writing I've just done is good, but I know that it's better than what came before. I started with such a thin line of an idea. Tenuous. Gossamer. I could scarcely hang on to it, but I thought if I wrote for long enough (probably it was at least an hour), the amoeba-like writing would take on a more definite shape. It would go somewhere and all I'd have to do to get the story is follow it.
The dialogue developed in fits and starts. I played "What If?" I asked myself, What if someone said that to me, what would I say? And then I put that thought in as the next line. I built the conversation from the ground up, on one "what if" after another.
The important lesson here is that sometimes the initial attempts are not the story at all.
I've made two false starts. That expression comes from the world of racing. On your mark, get set . . . but before the starter can pull the trigger, a runner takes a step, too eager to get going.
Two stories. Five and a half pages. I've abandoned it all. That's right, just let it go. Maybe I'll go back to it some day, maybe turn it into a poem, but I doubt it. It just wasn't good. That's all there is to it.
On the other hand, I think of it as priming the pump. I was writing, putting words down on "paper," getting the thoughts flowing in a fictional stream. So although those first two efforts were flotsom and jetsom, they prepared the way for better writing.
I'm still not sure that the writing I've just done is good, but I know that it's better than what came before. I started with such a thin line of an idea. Tenuous. Gossamer. I could scarcely hang on to it, but I thought if I wrote for long enough (probably it was at least an hour), the amoeba-like writing would take on a more definite shape. It would go somewhere and all I'd have to do to get the story is follow it.
The dialogue developed in fits and starts. I played "What If?" I asked myself, What if someone said that to me, what would I say? And then I put that thought in as the next line. I built the conversation from the ground up, on one "what if" after another.
The important lesson here is that sometimes the initial attempts are not the story at all.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The Spectre of the Blank Computer Screen
It used to be the haunting white paper on the desk, waiting for the mark of a pen. Then it was the sheet rolled into the old Underwood typewriter. Some people advanced to the Selectric, and although I went straight to the computer, the blank "paper" still haunts me.
I scan through my mental Rolodex of ideas and experiences, but none seem worthy of fiction. I seach for an image--something I've seen--or a sound or a phrase--something that's landed on my ear--but the cream is not rising to the top.
Looking for inspiration, I pick up a YA novel from the pile of YA novels on my desk. Rebel Glory, by Sigmund Brouwer. I read the first three chapters. They're short. At the end of chapter 3, I'm still only on page 13. I'm trying to read like a reader who is a writer and notice things a writer might notice.
It's written in the first person. The narrator is Brian McPhee, a 17-year-old junior hockey player. Chapter 1 gives a description of an incident (I don't want to give it away!) at a hockey game. I notice a couple of great similes. The hockey coach, who "has a face that looks like it was carved from the side of a mountain" (7) lambastes his players, telling them they are "skating like ballerinas" (6). Brian describes his English teacher: "Mr. Palmer's eyes bulged out like a constipated frog's" (12).
This is off to a lively start. Okay, I'm inspired.
Now that I'm in the writing groove, I'd better get on to the real writing--an Assignment of Great Importance. Four pages of fiction. Double-spaced. That's about 1,200 words.
Breathe deep . . . write "one true sentence."
I scan through my mental Rolodex of ideas and experiences, but none seem worthy of fiction. I seach for an image--something I've seen--or a sound or a phrase--something that's landed on my ear--but the cream is not rising to the top.
Looking for inspiration, I pick up a YA novel from the pile of YA novels on my desk. Rebel Glory, by Sigmund Brouwer. I read the first three chapters. They're short. At the end of chapter 3, I'm still only on page 13. I'm trying to read like a reader who is a writer and notice things a writer might notice.
It's written in the first person. The narrator is Brian McPhee, a 17-year-old junior hockey player. Chapter 1 gives a description of an incident (I don't want to give it away!) at a hockey game. I notice a couple of great similes. The hockey coach, who "has a face that looks like it was carved from the side of a mountain" (7) lambastes his players, telling them they are "skating like ballerinas" (6). Brian describes his English teacher: "Mr. Palmer's eyes bulged out like a constipated frog's" (12).
This is off to a lively start. Okay, I'm inspired.
Now that I'm in the writing groove, I'd better get on to the real writing--an Assignment of Great Importance. Four pages of fiction. Double-spaced. That's about 1,200 words.
Breathe deep . . . write "one true sentence."
Thursday, January 27, 2011
My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose
The title of today's post is from a very famous poem by the Bard of Scotland, Robert Burns. I'm thinking of him because the 252nd anniversary of his birth this past Tuesday. I'm thinking of him also because tonight at Creative Writing, we talked about similes and metaphors.
In "A Red, Red Rose," Burns uses two similes to describe his love:
O my Luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve's like the melodie,
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
First, she is like a rose that's newly opened in June. Next, she is like a melody that's sweetly played in tune.
A simile makes a comparison between two things by using the expression "like" or "as." Similes are very common in everyday speech: she's as cool as a cucumber; she's as mad as a wet hen. In the stanza above, Burns compares his love to a rose and also to a sweet melody.
For a simile to work, for it to be meaningful to readers, they must be familiar with the thing that provides the comparison. For instance, if I tell you that this morning, my house was like a three-ring circus, this is only useful if you know what a three-ring circus is.
A metaphor also makes a comparison but without the help of "like" or "as." One thing is another thing. For example, we can turn Burns' similes into metaphors:
My love is a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June.
My love is a melody
That's sweetly played in tune.
Well, you can see why he added "like": in this case, it was needed for the rhythm.
Back to my house: This morning, my house was a three-ring circus! Using a metaphor, an unmediated comparison, turning one thing directly into another, usually provides a stronger comparison.
In a book I've just begun to read, Dianne Warren's Cool Water, I'm watching for original similes and metaphors. Page 4--jackpot! "Word spread like chicken pox."
Here, I'd always thought that word spread like wildfire, but no, it spreads like chicken pox.
Here's another from Warren: [after a hundred-mile horserace] "the insides of his calves [were] as raw as skinned rabbits" (11).
Or this: "He pictured one of the houses that now dotted the landscape--a simple, two-room wooden structure with a single-pitch roof, like a chicken shack" (13). The old cowboy is sleeping on a bed of straw that "became as soft as a feather bed" and "tomorrow was cool and clear, like water on his tongue" (13).
These similes and metaphors provide the vividness that keep us in the dream of the fictional world. Happy hunting!
Cool Water is published by Harper Collins.
In "A Red, Red Rose," Burns uses two similes to describe his love:
O my Luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve's like the melodie,
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
First, she is like a rose that's newly opened in June. Next, she is like a melody that's sweetly played in tune.
A simile makes a comparison between two things by using the expression "like" or "as." Similes are very common in everyday speech: she's as cool as a cucumber; she's as mad as a wet hen. In the stanza above, Burns compares his love to a rose and also to a sweet melody.
For a simile to work, for it to be meaningful to readers, they must be familiar with the thing that provides the comparison. For instance, if I tell you that this morning, my house was like a three-ring circus, this is only useful if you know what a three-ring circus is.
A metaphor also makes a comparison but without the help of "like" or "as." One thing is another thing. For example, we can turn Burns' similes into metaphors:
My love is a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June.
My love is a melody
That's sweetly played in tune.
Well, you can see why he added "like": in this case, it was needed for the rhythm.
Back to my house: This morning, my house was a three-ring circus! Using a metaphor, an unmediated comparison, turning one thing directly into another, usually provides a stronger comparison.
In a book I've just begun to read, Dianne Warren's Cool Water, I'm watching for original similes and metaphors. Page 4--jackpot! "Word spread like chicken pox."
Here, I'd always thought that word spread like wildfire, but no, it spreads like chicken pox.
Here's another from Warren: [after a hundred-mile horserace] "the insides of his calves [were] as raw as skinned rabbits" (11).
Or this: "He pictured one of the houses that now dotted the landscape--a simple, two-room wooden structure with a single-pitch roof, like a chicken shack" (13). The old cowboy is sleeping on a bed of straw that "became as soft as a feather bed" and "tomorrow was cool and clear, like water on his tongue" (13).
These similes and metaphors provide the vividness that keep us in the dream of the fictional world. Happy hunting!
Cool Water is published by Harper Collins.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
I'm on a Mission!
If I'm going to write professionally, I need to familiarize myself with what's being read. In college or university, we can read academic essays a-plenty in journals across the disciplines, and, if we are paying attention, we can see patterns of organization and so learn to write academic essays better.
For creative writing, we can also learn by reading what published authors have written. They don't always follow all the rules, but success speaks for itself.
Last week, we were all on a mission to find out whose writing style ours was like. This week, I'm on a mission to find out about YA novels and stories.
YA? Is this a throw-back to the YA-YA Sisterhood? No, it stands for Young Adult, as in YA novels. It's a genre on its own--novels that appeal particularly to young adults, which seems to be a fancy way to say teens.
I went to the public library and was dizzied by all the series. I'm marking that down on my list of characteristics of success in the YA genre: write about something that you can write about many times over! There must be some comfort in following the lives of the same characters in similar situations.
For the younger reader, the Magic Treehouse series is a phenomenal way to entice readers into other historical periods, many other historical periods. The main characters climb up into a magic treehouse and get tossed back in time to, for example, the times of knights and dragons. They have many adventures and finally, whoosh, they return to their own time and place. You can see the advantage this--almost limitless settings. Each setting means a different story. Each story means readers can look forward to the further adventures of their favourite characters.
I also looked at what I'm calling author series--many books by the same author, but not necessarily with the same characters. Here, readers look forward to a new book by their favourite author. Today, I investigated Canadian Sigmund Brouwer.
First, I see that he's published by several publishers: Orca, Word Kids, and Thomas Nelson. This is useful information. The blurb on the back of one of his books says he has more than half a million books in print for kids, teens, and adults, and that he is a former college and semi-pro hockey player. Ah, the hockey connection! Of the six of his novels that I picked up today, four sport colourful covers depicting hockey players. Oh, I see it's a series: Lightning on Ice, and it's endorsed by the Western Hockey League; the back page contains a Stay in School NO MATTER WHAT! message from the WHL.
So . . . Brouwer has turned some personal knowledge about and experience with hockey into fodder for his stories.
As we launch into our writing careers (yes, we must think of ourselves as writers!), we should ask ourselves if we have something like that to draw on--some job, some hobby, some experience that we are already knowledgeable about. It could provide the underpinnings of a novel.
Alberta author Shirlee Smith Matheson, who has written lots about the Peace Country, among other things, has had more than 35 different jobs and has lived in umpteen different places. She's had Adventures. She's has Experiences enough for four lifetimes.
And she uses it all in her writing.
Your mission, should you choose to accept it . . .
For creative writing, we can also learn by reading what published authors have written. They don't always follow all the rules, but success speaks for itself.
Last week, we were all on a mission to find out whose writing style ours was like. This week, I'm on a mission to find out about YA novels and stories.
YA? Is this a throw-back to the YA-YA Sisterhood? No, it stands for Young Adult, as in YA novels. It's a genre on its own--novels that appeal particularly to young adults, which seems to be a fancy way to say teens.
I went to the public library and was dizzied by all the series. I'm marking that down on my list of characteristics of success in the YA genre: write about something that you can write about many times over! There must be some comfort in following the lives of the same characters in similar situations.
For the younger reader, the Magic Treehouse series is a phenomenal way to entice readers into other historical periods, many other historical periods. The main characters climb up into a magic treehouse and get tossed back in time to, for example, the times of knights and dragons. They have many adventures and finally, whoosh, they return to their own time and place. You can see the advantage this--almost limitless settings. Each setting means a different story. Each story means readers can look forward to the further adventures of their favourite characters.
I also looked at what I'm calling author series--many books by the same author, but not necessarily with the same characters. Here, readers look forward to a new book by their favourite author. Today, I investigated Canadian Sigmund Brouwer.
First, I see that he's published by several publishers: Orca, Word Kids, and Thomas Nelson. This is useful information. The blurb on the back of one of his books says he has more than half a million books in print for kids, teens, and adults, and that he is a former college and semi-pro hockey player. Ah, the hockey connection! Of the six of his novels that I picked up today, four sport colourful covers depicting hockey players. Oh, I see it's a series: Lightning on Ice, and it's endorsed by the Western Hockey League; the back page contains a Stay in School NO MATTER WHAT! message from the WHL.So . . . Brouwer has turned some personal knowledge about and experience with hockey into fodder for his stories.
As we launch into our writing careers (yes, we must think of ourselves as writers!), we should ask ourselves if we have something like that to draw on--some job, some hobby, some experience that we are already knowledgeable about. It could provide the underpinnings of a novel.
Alberta author Shirlee Smith Matheson, who has written lots about the Peace Country, among other things, has had more than 35 different jobs and has lived in umpteen different places. She's had Adventures. She's has Experiences enough for four lifetimes.
And she uses it all in her writing.
Your mission, should you choose to accept it . . .
Monday, January 24, 2011
A Few Contests
There are a few contests listed on our course web site. Here are a few more:
Grain Magazine
The New Quarterly
The Malahat Review
The disadvantages of submitting work to these contests? Well, the average entry fee is around $35, so many of us would have to pick and choose which ones we wanted to enter; otherwise, any prize money that we might receive could easily be consumed beforehand entering the contests. (It's like buying a lottery ticket for $2 and then winning $2 and saying, "Oh, I won $2." No, actually, you just broke even.)
The advantages? You might win. If you do enter, you might win. If you don't enter, you won't win. What did Wayne Gretzky say?: "You miss 100 percent of the shots you never take." Even if you don't win, the experience of entering might be good for you.
Yikes! Look at all those deadlines coming up fast! Let's do it!
Grain Magazine
The New Quarterly
The Malahat Review
The disadvantages of submitting work to these contests? Well, the average entry fee is around $35, so many of us would have to pick and choose which ones we wanted to enter; otherwise, any prize money that we might receive could easily be consumed beforehand entering the contests. (It's like buying a lottery ticket for $2 and then winning $2 and saying, "Oh, I won $2." No, actually, you just broke even.)
The advantages? You might win. If you do enter, you might win. If you don't enter, you won't win. What did Wayne Gretzky say?: "You miss 100 percent of the shots you never take." Even if you don't win, the experience of entering might be good for you.
Yikes! Look at all those deadlines coming up fast! Let's do it!
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Something else from Kurt Vonnegut
The disclaimer at the beginning of Vonnegut's Bagombo Snuff Box: Uncollected Short Fiction:
"As in my other works of fiction:
All persons living and dead are purely coincidental, and should not be construed. No names have been changed in order to protect the innocent. Angels protect the innocent as a matter of Heavenly routine."
"As in my other works of fiction:
All persons living and dead are purely coincidental, and should not be construed. No names have been changed in order to protect the innocent. Angels protect the innocent as a matter of Heavenly routine."
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Now It's J.D. Salinger!
Many of us are involved in different clubs or organizations, and once they find out you're a writer, look out! You'll be asked to write everything from advertising slogans to parking tickets.
I'm a member of the Prince George Astronomy Centre (as you might guess by my blog name, I am a northern night watcher and writer), and I just wrote a piece for that group's newsletter. When I analyzed it at www.iwl.me, it turns out I write like J.D. Salinger.
In case they decide to round-file my story, I'd better give it the light of day, so to speak, right here:
December 20th, 2010: Total Lunar Eclipse!
Clear and cold was the forecast for December 20th, and this time, the weather forecaster wasn’t wrong. I tried to drum up a general air of excitement among my students and finally convinced a few of the faithful to come out and watch the eclipse with me. I teach English as a Second Language, and so, first, had to explain to my students exactly what an eclipse was. We decided to gather at the college dorm, where we could go inside to warm up. The front door faces south so we were assured of a good view.
Some of us headed over to the dorm at about 9:30 p.m. I now know that this was way too early, but we were eager, and we didn’t want to miss anything. Oliver, a member of our motley group, decided we should tromp through the snow and go into the forested area near the dorm. It would offer shelter from the wind, he said. So we broke trail and stood in among the trees. It was beautiful, with the full moon beaming down on the diamond-surfaced snow.
Among our group were two students from the University of Ottawa, visiting family here over the Christmas holiday. Tim is studying Russian, so I introduced him to Vlad and Nick, two Russian students at the college. Before long, they were singing Russian songs together as we stamped our feet and clapped our hands, trying to keep warm. The temperature hovered around -30, and although we were dressed for the weather, it doesn’t take long to get cold.
Another student joined us, but when it was discovered that he wasn’t wearing any boots—just socks and clogs—we told him he couldn’t stay outside, and Oliver walked back to the dorm with him.
In and out, we were in and out of the dorm many times in those few hours. Every time someone else went in or out, I asked, “Do you know about the eclipse? Here, take my binoculars and have a look.” It didn’t matter if I didn’t know them. One of the students from Nigeria was carrying out his garbage to the bin. “Have you ever seen an eclipse before?” I asked. “You don’t want to miss this one!”
It was exciting as we watched the shadow of the earth slice into that great silver moon. We watched and waited and waited and watched. Someone was using the computer in the dorm lobby to follow the eclipse “live” on the Internet. I think she preferred the warmth of the lobby to the bitter cold of the front walkway.
By 1:30 a.m., a thin layer of cloud had covered the sky, but we could still see the reddish glow of the shadowed moon. Mostly everyone was ready to pack it in by then. I drove my students home and then went back home myself. My kitchen window faces south, so I had a good view of the sky. I made a cup of tea and kept watching in the eerie light.
When I looked at the eclipse for the final time, it was 2:30 a.m. The bronze veil was being drawn back, once again revealing the bright white edge of the moon.
I'm a member of the Prince George Astronomy Centre (as you might guess by my blog name, I am a northern night watcher and writer), and I just wrote a piece for that group's newsletter. When I analyzed it at www.iwl.me, it turns out I write like J.D. Salinger.
In case they decide to round-file my story, I'd better give it the light of day, so to speak, right here:
December 20th, 2010: Total Lunar Eclipse!
Clear and cold was the forecast for December 20th, and this time, the weather forecaster wasn’t wrong. I tried to drum up a general air of excitement among my students and finally convinced a few of the faithful to come out and watch the eclipse with me. I teach English as a Second Language, and so, first, had to explain to my students exactly what an eclipse was. We decided to gather at the college dorm, where we could go inside to warm up. The front door faces south so we were assured of a good view.
Some of us headed over to the dorm at about 9:30 p.m. I now know that this was way too early, but we were eager, and we didn’t want to miss anything. Oliver, a member of our motley group, decided we should tromp through the snow and go into the forested area near the dorm. It would offer shelter from the wind, he said. So we broke trail and stood in among the trees. It was beautiful, with the full moon beaming down on the diamond-surfaced snow.
Among our group were two students from the University of Ottawa, visiting family here over the Christmas holiday. Tim is studying Russian, so I introduced him to Vlad and Nick, two Russian students at the college. Before long, they were singing Russian songs together as we stamped our feet and clapped our hands, trying to keep warm. The temperature hovered around -30, and although we were dressed for the weather, it doesn’t take long to get cold.
Another student joined us, but when it was discovered that he wasn’t wearing any boots—just socks and clogs—we told him he couldn’t stay outside, and Oliver walked back to the dorm with him.
In and out, we were in and out of the dorm many times in those few hours. Every time someone else went in or out, I asked, “Do you know about the eclipse? Here, take my binoculars and have a look.” It didn’t matter if I didn’t know them. One of the students from Nigeria was carrying out his garbage to the bin. “Have you ever seen an eclipse before?” I asked. “You don’t want to miss this one!”
It was exciting as we watched the shadow of the earth slice into that great silver moon. We watched and waited and waited and watched. Someone was using the computer in the dorm lobby to follow the eclipse “live” on the Internet. I think she preferred the warmth of the lobby to the bitter cold of the front walkway.
By 1:30 a.m., a thin layer of cloud had covered the sky, but we could still see the reddish glow of the shadowed moon. Mostly everyone was ready to pack it in by then. I drove my students home and then went back home myself. My kitchen window faces south, so I had a good view of the sky. I made a cup of tea and kept watching in the eerie light.
When I looked at the eclipse for the final time, it was 2:30 a.m. The bronze veil was being drawn back, once again revealing the bright white edge of the moon.
Kurt Vonnegut's Rules for Short Stories
In the introduction to Bagombo Snuff Box: Uncollected Short Fiction, by Kurt Vonnegut, Vonnegut gives a short history of his life, leading up to how he became a fiction writer. Towards the end of the introduction, he lists eight rules for short fiction. The following are his words:
* * * * *
* * * * *
It's my guess that rules for writing are somewhat like rules for grammar. Once you know the rules, you can break them. Margaret Atwood is famous for independent clause after independent clause after independent clause, all joined by commas. I know some of you are asking, "Yeah, and so what's wrong with that?" Well, nothing--if you're Margaret Atwood. My point? If you break the rules, you probably should have a good reason for doing so, or at least know that you're breaking them!
I think I'll go review and revise my story.
* * * * *
Now lend me your ears. Here is Creative Writing 101:
1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things--reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them--in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.
The greatest American short story writer of my generation was Flannery O'Connor (1925-1964). She broke practically every one of my rules but the first. Great writers tend to do that.
* * * * *
It's my guess that rules for writing are somewhat like rules for grammar. Once you know the rules, you can break them. Margaret Atwood is famous for independent clause after independent clause after independent clause, all joined by commas. I know some of you are asking, "Yeah, and so what's wrong with that?" Well, nothing--if you're Margaret Atwood. My point? If you break the rules, you probably should have a good reason for doing so, or at least know that you're breaking them!
I think I'll go review and revise my story.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Who Do You Write Like?
Try this for fun (our class had to do it for an assignment): copy a few paragraphs from your blog or some other writing that you've done--fiction is best--into the dialog box at the following web site:
www.iwl.me
Click on the ANALYZE button, and presto! the program will analyze your writing and tell you who you write like.
As you can see, I've been analyzed.
I write like Kurt Vonnegut, famous and influential 20th century American writer. This didn't sound too bad, though I admit I had never read anything by him. So a few clicks on the keyboard and I brought up a few excerpts.
Hmm. What if I don't want to write like Kurt Vonnegut? I read some weird futuristic stuff, some stuff that was obviously influenced by his World War Two military service, and some stuff I just didn't get.
Maybe another piece of my writing would bring up another name. I found a story I had written back in my feminist awakening days and plugged it into the Analyzer at iwl.me. This time a new name that I had never heard before: Chuck Palahniuk. Okay, check him out. Wow, hmm, ooh, lots of police stories, prostitutes, drugs, awful things happening, blood, violence, etc., etc. Certainly not my first pick for curling up on the couch on a winter's eve for an engrossing read.
Anyway, today I went to the public library and took out three of Palahniuk's novels. The dust jacket of one of his books tells me that his books are "generation-defining" (another Douglas Coupland?) and that he's sold more than three million copies of his novels. Okay, maybe I should reconsider. Who wouldn't like that to be said about his or her writing?
I also took out Vonnegut's Bagombo Snuff Box. It's a collection of his uncollected short fiction (that means previously unpublished in book form). I've sat here for the last hour reading four short stories, totally engrossed in the author's craft. Now I see why he's counted as one of the recent American greats.
I've changed my mind. I'll wear the Kurt Vonnegut badge.
Maybe I should give Palahniuk another chance. I think I'll check out his non-fiction.
Oh, and if you want to do the rest of the assignment from our class: write a 750 word essay comparing and contrasting your writing with that of your doppelganger,* using the four elements of the craft (point of view, characterization, setting, and imagery) as a starting point.
*doppelganger: (from German, literally, double-walker) a ghostly counterpart of a living person. Similar to an alter-ego.
www.iwl.me
Click on the ANALYZE button, and presto! the program will analyze your writing and tell you who you write like.
As you can see, I've been analyzed.
I write like Kurt Vonnegut, famous and influential 20th century American writer. This didn't sound too bad, though I admit I had never read anything by him. So a few clicks on the keyboard and I brought up a few excerpts.
Hmm. What if I don't want to write like Kurt Vonnegut? I read some weird futuristic stuff, some stuff that was obviously influenced by his World War Two military service, and some stuff I just didn't get.
Maybe another piece of my writing would bring up another name. I found a story I had written back in my feminist awakening days and plugged it into the Analyzer at iwl.me. This time a new name that I had never heard before: Chuck Palahniuk. Okay, check him out. Wow, hmm, ooh, lots of police stories, prostitutes, drugs, awful things happening, blood, violence, etc., etc. Certainly not my first pick for curling up on the couch on a winter's eve for an engrossing read.
Anyway, today I went to the public library and took out three of Palahniuk's novels. The dust jacket of one of his books tells me that his books are "generation-defining" (another Douglas Coupland?) and that he's sold more than three million copies of his novels. Okay, maybe I should reconsider. Who wouldn't like that to be said about his or her writing?
I also took out Vonnegut's Bagombo Snuff Box. It's a collection of his uncollected short fiction (that means previously unpublished in book form). I've sat here for the last hour reading four short stories, totally engrossed in the author's craft. Now I see why he's counted as one of the recent American greats.
I've changed my mind. I'll wear the Kurt Vonnegut badge.
Maybe I should give Palahniuk another chance. I think I'll check out his non-fiction.
Oh, and if you want to do the rest of the assignment from our class: write a 750 word essay comparing and contrasting your writing with that of your doppelganger,* using the four elements of the craft (point of view, characterization, setting, and imagery) as a starting point.
*doppelganger: (from German, literally, double-walker) a ghostly counterpart of a living person. Similar to an alter-ego.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Down to Work!
I've dilly-dallied long enough! It's a new year, a new decade, and I'm making a new start! It sounds as if I'm on some reality show that will give me a 100% make-over, but, no, I've enrolled in a creative writing course.
I know what you're thinking--been there, done that--and yes, I have, but this time, I hold out even higher expectations than before. This class will give me opportunity to flex my creative muscle (that's not the one I've been building up shovelling all that snow in the past few weeks!).
The question that plagues every would-be writer is, "Can I really do this?" What we usually mean by this is "Can I make any money at this?" For most of us, the answer is probably "Not much, if any," but for me, I just want to get back into the groove of writing. Back into the habit. Get the ideas flowing. I need to begin to think of myself as a writer.
In fact, I used to write for a living. Yes, I was a journalist. In a small town, this is a kind of slave. Low pay, long hours, lots of complaints by people who didn't like the way they looked in the photo I took. Happily, that job is behind me, but when I say it's behind, I mean it in the most generous way. Every day, in whatever I write, I use something that I learned at that job. (So thanks, Dave!)
Unlike many people, I actually like writing. I have a long history of correspondence with several friends and family members that goes back more than 20 years. I have written to Timothy Findley, from whom I received a reply, and to Nikita Kruschev, from whom I received no reply. I am an inveterate note-taker. If someone starts talking, I start writing.
Now I'm in this course. And there's homework. Quite a lot, actually. I will be diligent and do my best. I will try not to be annoying to the teacher or the other students (I'll keep you posted on this!). And I will write.
This could be my big break!
I know what you're thinking--been there, done that--and yes, I have, but this time, I hold out even higher expectations than before. This class will give me opportunity to flex my creative muscle (that's not the one I've been building up shovelling all that snow in the past few weeks!).
The question that plagues every would-be writer is, "Can I really do this?" What we usually mean by this is "Can I make any money at this?" For most of us, the answer is probably "Not much, if any," but for me, I just want to get back into the groove of writing. Back into the habit. Get the ideas flowing. I need to begin to think of myself as a writer.
In fact, I used to write for a living. Yes, I was a journalist. In a small town, this is a kind of slave. Low pay, long hours, lots of complaints by people who didn't like the way they looked in the photo I took. Happily, that job is behind me, but when I say it's behind, I mean it in the most generous way. Every day, in whatever I write, I use something that I learned at that job. (So thanks, Dave!)
Unlike many people, I actually like writing. I have a long history of correspondence with several friends and family members that goes back more than 20 years. I have written to Timothy Findley, from whom I received a reply, and to Nikita Kruschev, from whom I received no reply. I am an inveterate note-taker. If someone starts talking, I start writing.
Now I'm in this course. And there's homework. Quite a lot, actually. I will be diligent and do my best. I will try not to be annoying to the teacher or the other students (I'll keep you posted on this!). And I will write.
This could be my big break!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)