Showing posts with label process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label process. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Esoterica / Part One

Being an esoteric reader, it is common to find books that are really off the beaten path for mainstream readers. Sometimes, it makes complete sense that these books aren't consumed by a lot of people because they fall into the experimental, obscure, or disconnected genre where they may have originated. But it is from these lands of "esoterica" that some really fascinating stories, ideas, and designs emerge from writing. If there is a land of writing and thinking that is worth exploring, to me it is on the edges. It is from these places that new ideas, new approaches come into focus. And while they may remain obscure and strange, they may also push the form and act of the storytelling into new places. 

Take that vision of reading to Mikhail Shishkin's Maidenhair, and consider what you are reading and why. It isn't for the faint of heart or the casual reader. The story is based on the life of Swiss officers who guard the border and interview Russian asylum-seekers where they are subjected to the stories of the oppressed. The book is written in a long prose question and answer style that meanders and moves through ideas and connections. Some of it seems like myth and tales. Other stories are complex and dark. And it begins this complex tapestry that takes its toll on the guards. 

While reading this novel, which is not difficult to read thanks to the translation from the Russian by Marian Schwartz, it begins to feel like something else. Shishkin is doing more than crafting a plot. He is plotting to change the reader in a different way. The conclusion? What if this isn't a novel, but an ethical guide to understanding why we write, why stories are important, and the significant weight of being in possession of the stories we tell. There are times in this book when I am reading and following the life a soldier, or hearing some sad story from an orphanage. And then suddenly, there are one hundred ideas coming to mind, or the basic weight of truth as it pertains to fiction. And suddenly, you don't care about the story, but only in that, it happens to you. And you start to think about the unwritten stories you have yet to write, and you start to wonder why you haven't valued your own stories like your life depended on them. 


"Those speaking may be fictitious, but what they say is real. Truth lies only where it is concealed. Fine, the people aren't real but the stories, ho, the stories are! It's just that they raped someone else at the orphanage, not fat-lips. And the guy from Lithuania heard the story about the brother who burned up and the murdered mother from someone else. What difference does it make who it happened to? It's ways a sure thing. The people here are irrelevant. It's the stories that can be authentic or not. We become what gets written in the transcript"(24). 

Make the point that the transcript is an official document of record, making it feel important and factual, although this is all about the way things shift and move in terms of fiction, stories, and the world. What part of this do we accept? It isn't about facts, but accepting truth as it is. We know that rape, violence, war, and other terrible things happen, and it validates the story. So, what part of belief do we accept? The line between the plausible and implausible is based on the writing, the style, and the ability of the writer to tell that story into plausibility. 


"In the wee hours the interpreter woke bathed in sweat and with a pounding heart; he had dreamed of Galina Petronvna - except the boys all called her Galpetra, out of sheer meanness - and it had come back to him - the lesson, the blackboard - as if all these decades lived had never been. He lay there looking at their brightening ceiling and returned to himself, clutching at his heart. Why be afraid of her now? And what exactly was in your dream - you forget right away and are left with just your schoolboy fear. It's a nasty feeling, too. You never know what empire you're going to wake up in or who as"(26).
This paragraph relates to understanding the 

In terms of writing about writing, we find great style and how-to writing books. I think Stephen King's On Writing is a great approach to understanding a writing life. But once writers immerse themselves in books about character, plot, getting into a routine (and the hundreds of other elements to writing), the writer need a deeper understanding of the relation understanding of texts and storytelling. It is time to move out of how and why we write and move into a higher understanding of what it is we do. We might find this in something like Annie Dillard's The Writing Life * or in the essays of Scott Momaday and his culture of oral tradition. We are convinced that we can define the nuts and bolts of writing, but we need to connect to its higher plane. Some of that is seeking out people who have connected to that thought level. The other difficult part, is having the vision as a reader searching out that information.  This article series discusses the value of defining and searching for texts that change the way we think and write. They can inspire, but they can also remind us of the deeper value in the writing and thinking we create as writers. In this day of diminished word counts, technological distraction, and polarized points of view; it is important to find that place, time, and room to make the a writing life more than words on the page. 

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Friday, November 10, 2017

Among Those Things

In my previous post about creating Misfit Manifestos in class, it occurred to me that over the course of the semester I give a lot of writing assignments. Not all of them are a lengthy research paper, but they are intentionally designed for the continuous practice of writing. It is important in my class to understand that writing is a practiced skill and they should be writing often. And like someone learning a musical instrument, sometimes who are better off doing scales and sometimes you play the whole concerto. 

Yet, as I was writing about their experience with the Misfit Manifestos, it occurred to me that sometimes, students connect with assignments in a way that opens their ideas, and changes the way they see their own lives. The point being is that through a variety of writing opportunities, it is very hard to tell which assignments are going to connect with the students in the classroom. But what comes with experience: is knowing that something will connect with the students.  


It is clear that these writing assignment was a needed break away from writing about Virginia Woolf and modernism. And it was clear from their writing that they wanted to say something important about who they are. It reminds me of the letter writing assignment I work on with my creative writing students. They write letters to people that they can't send them too because of death, or distance, or something else. Every time I do that creative writing exercise, it is clear that they have something that need to say immediately. It is almost like writers are just waiting for the right idea, the right acceptance and permission to say those things that have been waiting their for the right moment. That is what it felt like with my students, particularly with a student who said, "This will be the easiest assignment so far, I've been screwed up my entire life." And that was the release he needed to explain it all to me. 



Are we looking for permission to write these stories about ourselves? Are these stories just waiting, just under the waves of our everyday life waiting for the right prompt or the right group to share it with? This type of writing is where your story can be a superpower. This is where you sit in class and awe at the struggles, the humanity that comes from writers, and you see something so brave in a writer - the act of writing down something that has always been kept from the world. And there it is on a desk, so common place, like a pen, a notebook. Among those things, you know what a privilege it is. 

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

CLMooc 2017 Maker Cycle: Animation

I've always been interested in telling stories in different ways. And when I saw the makers cycle for this week, and I read the description about telling a story through pictures, it brought me back to a concept that I had a long time ago. 

The idea was to create the image of a house destroyed by a tornado and bring that to the computer. By clicking on the interactive screen, people could read about the various clickable pieces of debris and from the story they think is important, based on their desire to click on elements in the debris. That being said, I never found the right way or even the possibility of doing that project. 

For this cycle, it is important for me, as a writer to hold on to the writing part of my projects but still do something that is animated in some way. I still wanted to create something similar to the tornado story, but I had a vision. The concept and the vision came all at once. I would write The Fire. It would be 10-20 flash fiction stories woven together based on an image of a fire. Using an image from the tragic London tower fire, I am trying to connect and make the story work. 

The first part will be the stories and how they connect. The next part will be navigation. And finally, the overall look will be important to the story. While I know that not everyone will love reading this and connecting the concepts, the most important element is to try it. Prezi seems to do the job right now and I think it will work out in a linear fashion. I think my vision of clicking into a space and having it tell you a story would work, but for this first prototype, I will have to let the presentation play itself out in order. 

CLICK HERE TO SEE MY EXPERIMENTAL STORY 

Storytelling can be interconnected and there are a lot of different elements now to teach and tell these stories. I worked with students to create panel cartoons to tell stories. I gave the students complex stories and asked them to tell those stories in five panels. In some cases, it was near impossible, but there is something important to cutting it down to just the basic story and attempting it. I also had them create their own superhero or (as some preferred) anti-superhero to create their own satirical space for storytelling. I created the Dyslexic Man comic because of my own issues and created the dread "homonym brothers" who always confused people with their confusing words. 

The infusion of image and word and the evolution of the digital age has brought us to an interesting time and space. In The Alphabet Versus the Goddess: The Conflict Between Word and Image, the visual need to engage the world is returning. And the coded (male dominated) alphabets and convoluted languages are falling away. Storytelling and the modes to tell our stories will certainly change. With abbreviated text-language and memes evolving into shorthand, we are already speeding along in a new way of seeing the world, laughing, and making complex and satirical points about society, politics, and our own experiences. 


Thursday, July 20, 2017

Space for Writing

Every since I was writing, I had some kind of desk. But desks can be distractions and then can be places where things just sit. In thinking about spaces that are important to creation, workshops, or quiet spaces, it is also important to think about how much you need.

When I am working, I don't really care what's around me, because I am working. But all the time spent supporting the creation of something is what space means. For me it isn't that I need a big office or a nice desk to write, I can write at work, or in a public space. But to practice something and get good at it, you need a space that is ready for you and a place that is reliable.

When I was in college, I lived in my parent's attic. It was a great space for college students, but with my bed, TV, drum set, and everything else, I ended up moving my desk into the storage space. And not a lot of it, but just one little corner. Even though it was still just around the corner, it was enough to separate my living space, my "I work at a restaurant" space into something that is my own little writing space. And it was little. I used a small computer desk and my word processor and that is where it happened.


My space!
When I moved into an apartment, there was really no place I called my office, maybe the kitchen table. And it wasn't until I moved into my house now that I set up an office in an unused bedroom and worked on my masters. In the last five years, I refurbished my attic space into a great den, TV space, and a wall. And around the corner is my office. Lately, I've expanded my shelves and made this space more productive and more useful.

Part of what I need in a working writing space is not really for the writing part. Sitting in front of my computer typing along can happen (literally) anywhere. But when I I look around my office, I see touchstones and books that remind me of where I've come from, and they whisper to me that I am ready, that I am a writer. And from there you can choose the limitless path of creativity.


  • Why is a writing space important to you? 
  • What do you need in that space?
  • How does it make you feel? 
  • How do you arrive in that space? (Pajamas, dressed to work, with coffee, with headphones on?)
  • What were the most productive times in your space and why was that really productive?
Bonus thought: Write a detailed description of your perfect work space. And make sure the reader is left with very specific things that are the focus of that space. 



Thursday, July 13, 2017

Visual Imagery 2.0 / A Writer's Tool

In a previous post, I discussed how Pinterest could be used as a complex and easy to search platform to replace what writers know as Pictorial or Visual Dictionaries. These resources help writers quickly refine their words and add some granular detailing, typically about things they probably don't know well. Trains, aircraft, boats, and all kinds of technical parts that enhance the focus and the purpose of significant and meaningful detail in storytelling. 

It is no surprise that in our #CLMooc for 2017, I was inspired by a website called Sketch Lab. While there are too many connections, tools, and ideas to tell you about here, Sketch Lab is a fascinating 3D modeling site that allows you to take subjects and view them in in three dimensions. You might think that this is merely a fun, time wasting cite, but for many visual thinkers, this could be a significant source of inspiration and ideas. I like this because it allows you to look around. It allows you to see different angles. And the range of items and ideas are growing. If you are looking at buildings and locations, this is great (see example below). But if you really don't know what a Fender Strata-caster looks like, in detail - this might be the site for you. Of course you won't use the details, but you will have a better sense of what things look like, how things are made, and why they might be important for your story. 

The example below is of a house. I selected it because I like the size and the shape of the house. If you notice, you can look up under the porch roof and see the supports. You can see access points, and where windows are. You can walk up the front steps. Or find the secret back door. For me this tool is really interesting. I would also like to use this as prompting for students to write or analyze how things are made. It would also be helpful in guiding students to see things at various angles and distances. This is a great tool in looking and visualizing things. And if it doesn't replace your visual dictionary, it should be a go to resource for writers. 
Example: 

Monday, June 27, 2016

Experimental Novels Part I

Introduction

Ask anyone and they will tell you that I am fascinated with process in writing and in order to understand the way we write, we have to understand that we can find specific reasons or connections to the choices we make. From names of characters to motivation to plot, process is important. The more I can identify some reason and function for my choices, the more I understand where I am going and why. That being said, one of my favorite topics to read, research, and share is my love of experimental novels. And in order to really understand why it matters at all, we have to define what they are and why they differ from other novels. And then, by looking at some novels that I consider experimental, it will also help find characteristics that are relevant in watching the evolution of experimental novels and ideas over the years. This series is part book review (of experimental novels), part idea building, and part process discussion. So, it won't always feel like the typical blog post. Sometimes, it will feel like a hyper-focused discussion about one book. Other times, it will talk more broadly. And sometimes, it will be connections and random thoughts. If you would like to share your ideas, feelings, or refer books - I would be happy. The comment sections will be open for that purpose. 

I will post a working list of experimental novels HERE, as a shared document. Feel free to add your favorites. 


Experimental isn't cutting edge. In fact, experimental novels of the past paved the way for how we consider the novel now. Even a common high school literary experience like Moby Dick by Hermann Melville might be considered experimental at the time. The experimental novel isn't new. In fact, all innovations in novel writing were and are considered experimental. Some are more pronounced, but they all have fed into the discussion that will be evolving here on this website, through the sources, and through other connections. In looking at some titles, it will be necessary to put the novel into historical context. What was happening in the world around the book? What was the author thinking? Why this experimental concept at this moment? And what did it mean? 


Perhaps any artist that attempts to find the edges of their craft will eventually consider some kind of experimentation or variation on what is considered the normal balance of art expectations. Often, experimentation with poetry, paints, and other modes of art feel like they absorb and use experimentation as a constant in their understanding of the craft. While the novel, stands in a slow pattern of change. Forever on the edge of extinction, the novel moves through slower changes. And I don't think the heralding of the long form's untimely death has ever done anything but strengthen its resolve to continue forward. In the last twenty years, I've posed the idea that the novel isn't dying or even in elder care - but changing into things that don't make sense to critics and literary crepe hangers. It is believing the television will never change, only to find everyone talking about a show on Netflix, that thing you didn't subscribe too because it seemed like a scam. Perhaps then, the novel will change with the technology, change with the vision a future forged in strife and chaos rather than bucolic suburban dreams that disappeared shortly after the second invasion of the Iraq. The novel might be on the move. It might be expanding. But until we use some of our tools and innovate their use on experimental texts, we will never really understand the edges of the novel world. That is my goal to discuss, view, and understand where the novel has been in terms of experimentation and evolution so that we can innovate and embrace the new vision of novel writing, style, and process involved in continuing his vast and stunning legacy in letters.