Terrific collection of essays from a variety of writers and industry wonks on every aspect of writing and publishing a novel. I'll be dipping into thiTerrific collection of essays from a variety of writers and industry wonks on every aspect of writing and publishing a novel. I'll be dipping into this for inspiration for my own writing workshops and coaching. ...more
I need a new category/shelf: Books That Make Me Cry Because I Think The Author Sees Into My Soul.
I've been reading this slowly these past few weeks, jI need a new category/shelf: Books That Make Me Cry Because I Think The Author Sees Into My Soul.
I've been reading this slowly these past few weeks, just a short essay or two in the morning before turning to work on my novel-in-progress. It's served as a devotional, an inspiration, a kick in the ass, a point of focus, permission, forgiveness, scolding, hope. I think it will remain on the coffee table beside my morning writing spot, and I'll return to the beginning and keep rereading through to the end, rinse-repeat until McCann's nuggets of wisdom, tenderness, and no bullshit advice on the writing life are ingrained in my brain. It doesn't matter how much one has or hasn't written, published or not published, Colum McCann writes to our deepest fears and hopes, with the solid conviction that we must write on. Rage on....more
So yes, let's just get it out there: the subtitled theme of Rising Strong, this triumvirate of Reckoning-Rumble-Revolution is schticky and looks like pop-psychology gone wild. It will likely turn off others who rely exclusively on data and peer-reviewed research to support social science theory and prescriptive methodology.
What I came to love about Brown's narrative is the marriage of research and inspiration, her ability to take grounded theory and apply it to art-the art of emotion, the art of knowledge, the art of faith.
What is this book about exactly? It's about surviving hurt, acknowledging shame, embracing vulnerability, learning how to tell our stories, and getting back up to do it all over again, with courage and determination.
The emphasis on personal narrative touched me deeply. As a writer, I believe we are wired for story and my greatest healing has come by turning to the page, not only in telling my own stories, as I do when spilling my guts in my journal, or constructing a personal essay that is meant to reveal more universal truths, but in creating fictional worlds with characters who are born of my heart, my emotions, and in a tangential way, my experiences. So Brown's insistence that we use the physical act of writing out our narratives as a way to achieve truth and emotional release resonates deeply. Only in writing our stories can we examine what's real and what isn't, when we've conflated nostalgia with memory, when our memories have failed us and we fill in the gaps with drama or denial, where there is room for change or a different way of looking at the past that has shaped us.
There are too many components of this book that touched me, made me nod or tear up with recognition, made me turn to my partner and read aloud. Just too many. Here are a few: The destructive nature of comparative suffering. The phenomenon of "chandeliering", when we've packed down hurt so tightly that a seemingly innocuous comment can send us straight up to the chandelier with an emotional reaction well out of proportion to the situation. The need to sustain our creative souls. The idea that everyone is simply doing the best they can and recalibrating your responses accordingly. Creating boundaries to access compassion. Courage is contagious. Hope as a learning process, not a fly-by emotion. Embracing regret as a path toward empathy and how trauma leads to shame, and unacknowledged shame prevents us from being vulnerable.
Although I found many of the anecdotes that led to the development of theories and the concrete plans for personal engagement a bit trite, the approach to change Brown offers—like both hands extended to lift the reader up—is ripe and right, with practical, actionable guidance.
The thing is, I pantsed my first novel entirely. I survived, the novel sold, it's doing well, I'm proud of the whole endeavor. But I would never (neveThe thing is, I pantsed my first novel entirely. I survived, the novel sold, it's doing well, I'm proud of the whole endeavor. But I would never (never say never) write a novel that way again.
Yet, I can't quite get my head around stitching together an outline in which each scene is planned, the beginning, middle, end a fixed thing, predetermined by process. I know now that each book is its own creature, that the narrative itself determines the process, more than the writer. I will always be a right-brained writer, who lets the spark of creativity and the loosey-goosey nature of intuition guide her hand.
Yet, in teaching writing, I witness the flailing of my students, watch (read, rather) as their stories slip off the rails and tumble into a morass of weak conflict, forgotten goals, and confused POVs. And in helping them rein in their narratives, I recognized the weaknesses in my own.
K.M. Weiland's excellent guide to the novel outline isn't prescriptive. It offers a myriad of ways to approach the organization of thoughts into something that will make it easier for the writer to let her creative juices flow freely. She presents an excellent, really impossible-to-argue-with case for allowing process into the flow.
I used this book recently, in tandem with the outline system I most prefer (Michael Hague's Three Act, Six State Plot Structure in a workshop with my novels-in-progress group and I could just hear the gears clicking into place. Tomorrow we will reconvene and they will present their outlines-in-progress. I can't wait to see how they've grown and what I will learn from them.
Highly recommended, writers, even for-perhaps most particularly for-the die-hard pantser....more
I've watched Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's TedXEuston talk, from which this publication was taken, several times because, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I admI've watched Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's TedXEuston talk, from which this publication was taken, several times because, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I admire and adore her with every cell of my being.
I read this transcript with my morning coffee today. And I am again renewed, enlightened, hopeful, enchanted, and inspired. We should all read this. We should all be feminists.
Dear GR Friends: The review below is from my first read of Big Magic, in 2015. I've just reread the book for a wonderful new virtual book club I'veDear GR Friends: The review below is from my first read of Big Magic, in 2015. I've just reread the book for a wonderful new virtual book club I've joined, for women pursuing their creativity with intent.
There could not have been a better time to read Big Magic than in the fraught and anxious, giddy and surreal days before launching my first novel. Gilbert's words soothed and grounded me, took me out of the uncomfortable, jangly headspace of self-promotion and back into the embrace of what it means to be a creative person, why I set forth on this path in the first place.
Fear is boring. Yes. This. I spent forty-one years (okay, maybe thirty-five; for the first six I was blissfully unaware that I wanted to be a writer when I grew up) being afraid to pursue my dream of writing. What if I sucked? Then what dreams would be left to me? Finally, it was the fear of seeing my chances to live authentically running out that propelled me to try. Fear that I suck is still a demon on my shoulder, but I've learned to acknowledge that demon and move on, despite its claws digging in painfully. I could spend my time paralyzed by fear, or I could spend my time writing. My choice.
The notion that creativity is a magical, enchanting process may seem too woo hoo for some readers, perhaps many writers, but it resonated with this one. Yes, it is true. There is little that is magical about putting your butt in the chair, day after day, most particularly those days when you least want to write, and simply getting on with it. It is the only way to be productive, to finish what you have started: there is no glitter and spark to dogged determination.
And yet. The magic has twirled and sparkled in my own creative process. It doesn't stay long, or it comes and goes, but when it flashes, I'm aware. The rest is on me, to do the hard work of turning inspiration into art, and then to find my audience. I don't wait for the muse to guide me or put off writing until I feel inspired. But I work to be more open to and aware of the , so when they occur, I can capture and hold them long enough to let them burn into my mind's eye, etched until I have time and energy to return to their outlines.
I adored the anecdote about Gilbert and Ann Patchett exchanging ideas in the ether—it released me from the angst of recognizing my ideas in others' work, of realizing that each idea has its time and will find its right and true voice.
You are not required to save the world with your creativity. I will admit to feeling a certain . . . pressure, expectation, as a woman, as a woman over forty, to write Big Important Things. And I have done, in short stories, in essays; even in novels that appear commercial on the surface, the themes of grief, redemption, addiction, faith ground the narrative in larger, more universal contexts. But I resist writing to an agenda, I resist the notion that I must write to educate. There are times, yes, when I feel compelled to share lessons I've learned that may be of use to others. But I am a storyteller at heart. Really, what I want to achieve as a writer is pleasure. Enjoyment. Fulfillment. Mostly mine, if I'm honest.
About pursuing an advanced degree (i.e. The MFA). I get this question on occasion and now have an abridged answer that I can credit to Elizabeth Gilbert: Writers have it easy. The only education we need awaits us for free in a library or at moderate cost in a bookstore. Connections, networking, community, feedback, support—all can be obtained for free if a writer reaches out, both for support and to lift up others. MFAs can be lovely and advantageous, but *need* is not a reason to pursue one.
I've read a few reviews that scoff at Gilbert's breathless enthusiasm, she who now perches comfortably on the pinnacle of artistic and financial freedom afforded her by the smash hit Eat, Pray, Love. As if commercial success somehow taints or diminishes or renders meaningless all the years of hard work she put in and rejection received before the runaway success of EPL. Whatever. Move along. We all enter this with our own advantages, disadvantages, lucky breaks and unfair blows. Acknowledge yours, celebrate, embrace or forgive them and stop wasting energy belittling or dismissing others who have achieved what you would like. Write.
There's so much more. I need to reread Big Magic again in bits and pieces and perhaps return to this review and amend, change, modify, as I grow as a writer and my books grow up and away from me. For now, though, it is enough to have simply been allowed to return to what is important: that I write because I and the Universe have chosen it to be so. That's enough.
Create whatever you want to create—and let it be stupendously imperfect, because it's exceedingly likely that nobody will even notice. And that's awesome.
I purchased this both as a resource for my own writing and to use in my writing workshops.
When I'm not fully engaged in writing a novel or writing frI purchased this both as a resource for my own writing and to use in my writing workshops.
When I'm not fully engaged in writing a novel or writing fresh material, a part of my soul starts to wither. I've learned I need to write fresh, new, even if it's just short pieces, while in the midst of revisions and edits, to keep my sense of intellectual and emotional equilibrium. I appreciate the specificity of these writing prompts, the unique themes and unusual scenarios and will use them as a way to enter into a story, a poem, an essay. For my works-in-progress workshops, I can mine some of these ideas to help students see their work in a new light, to explore their characters and themes in new or deeper ways. ...more
Not a book to read cover-to-cover and set aside, but one to reference, ear-mark, jot down notes, ideas. I bought this just a year ago, after a workshoNot a book to read cover-to-cover and set aside, but one to reference, ear-mark, jot down notes, ideas. I bought this just a year ago, after a workshop with the author, wondering if/when I'd ever have cause to use it. Now that I'm five months out from the launch of my first novel, I find inspiration, comfort and wisdom within.
The guide's first half is a practical laundry list of ideas and recommendations for the time and budget-strapped author. Regardless of our publishing method or size of publisher, we're all expected to devote significant time and cash to building our author platforms and promoting our books. Daunting. Terrifying. Stressful. Bewildering. Exciting! Particularly for those of us out there for the first time, flailing, wondering where best to spend our time and energy. But Everyday Book Marketing breaks it down into manageable chunks.
The second half is devoted to Q&A with authors and book/author promotion experts. I loved this. Midge Raymond is from the Pacific Northwest and many of the writers she interviewed are those I know or with whom I'm familiar; it's wonderfully encouraging to see some of the same faces I've met at conferences or workshops and encounter on Facebook detailing what has and hasn't worked for them. And to read how many of them are surprised by how much they enjoy promoting their work. Cannot wait until I can say the same!...more
Not that this is a book you read cover to cover or ever finish, but it's utterly GORGEOUS. I cannot imagine continuing to read and study and attempt tNot that this is a book you read cover to cover or ever finish, but it's utterly GORGEOUS. I cannot imagine continuing to read and study and attempt to write poetry without it. ...more
A Memorial In Nagasaki they built a little room dark and soundproof where you can go in all alone and close the door and cry.
William Stafford, Poet L
A Memorial In Nagasaki they built a little room dark and soundproof where you can go in all alone and close the door and cry.
William Stafford, Poet Laureate of Oregon from 1975 until 1990, crafted over 20,000 poems during his time on Earth- a staggering output. A pacifist—soft-spoken, yet fierce—Stafford was a teacher, a mentor, a wide-eyed, gracious observer and recorder of life. His poems are clean, without guile or pretense and most often set in the natural world. He eschewed the rules of writing, rising above convention to state simply that showing up to the page was enough. That writing made one a writer, not publishing, not critical acclaim, not commercial success.
Find limits that have prevailed and break them; be more brutal, more revealing, more obscene, more violent. Press all limits.
The Answers are Inside the Mountains is one in a series of Poets on Poetry, a collection of interviews and conversations with a celebrated poet, as well as selected essays and poems. It includes a beautiful exchange between Stafford and his dear friend and fellow poet of the West, Richard Hugo. A slim volume rich and full of hope and light, compassion and encouragement The Answers are Inside the Mountains is one of the loveliest sources of inspiration this writer has read.
The earth says have a place, be what that place requires; hear the sound the birds imply and see as deep as ridges go behind each other.
I immediately lent it out to a writer friend and now I am bereft, trying to write this review without the treasured work beside me to flip through and reread. But I took notes in my journal, and took great comfort in reading that Stafford too kept journals, that they were the source of his creativity, one of the places he turned to in crafting his poems, where he worked out ideas and themes, from which he pulled his own material.
Save up little pieces that escape other people. Pick up the gleamings.
At this precarious time, when I struggle to find hope and beauty, I am reminded the answers are in the mountains, the mountains of art that surround me.
We drown in ugliness. Art helps teach us to swim.
I'm closing with a poem that wasn't in the book, because in searching for another poem, I came across this. It's been one of my favorites for years and reading it again opened up a river inside me. A river frozen over, now melted by Stafford's words.
Ask Me Some time when the river is ice ask me mistakes I have made. Ask me whether what I have done is my life. Others have come in their slow way into my thought, and some have tried to help or to hurt: ask me what difference their strongest love or hate has made.
I will listen to what you say. You and I can turn and look at the silent river and wait. We know the current is there, hidden; and there are comings and goings from miles away that hold the stillness exactly before us. What the river says, that is what I say.
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