Last night I had a conversation with a student about endings in short stories, and I think I was listening to my own comments as much as he was because I’m coming up to the point that I’ve delayed: having to figure out the ending to my new novel. When I was at VCCA this winter, I was able to write up to a certain point, about three-quarters through, and then (at the time) it seemed like a good idea to step back and revise what I had, do some more historical research (the book is set in 1899), and then tackle the ending in a swoop at some mythical “later date.”
That later date is approaching—mentally, and on the calendar. My class will be over in a few weeks, and I’ll have a small but significant patch of time before other responsibilities overtake me again. Since I find that I can squeeze in revision while I’m teaching, it seems to make sense to generate new material in this larger, emptier window I’ve got. Plus, mentally, I’ve found myself wondering (i.e. stressing out about) how I’m going to pull off this plot and, as Tim Gunn so wisely advises, “make it work” (easy for him to say).
Here’s the advice I heard myself giving:
--A good ending is authentic. It’s believable given the parameters of the world set forth in the story.
--Beyond that authenticity, the ending also needs to feel inevitable, as if the book/story could not have ended any other way, given the characters and action that has preceded.
--Beyond that inevitability, there needs to be a simultaneous sense of surprise. Though the story could not possibly have ended in any other way, the reader is nevertheless surprised that it has done so. The classic phrase is “the surprising yet inevitable ending.”
--And beyond that, the hardest element of all, I believe, is that dark, uncomfortable, transcendent squirminess that the reader feels as he/she realizes that the author has found some difficult, universal truth and expressed it so completely that the reader believes his/her life view is forever altered even if not understanding exactly how. If I had to pick one writer to study as a master of endings, it be Flannery O’Connor’s short stories.
And in the end...easy for me to say, right? Now, to try to do all that....
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Merce Cunningham's Creative Process
Embarrassing to admit, but I had no idea that Merce Cunningham had such an interesting creative process when choreographing:
“Where other choreographers looked to music and their own imagination for inspiration, Mr. Cunningham favored the creative strategies of a physicist, a Vegas high roller and a techno-whiz.
“He split the atomic unity of music and dance. No longer were the steps dependent on a beat; in Mr. Cunningham's works, the dancing and the music were utterly independent of each other, existing side by side "in space and time," that is, performed in the same spot for a set number of minutes, but coming together essentially as strangers. He also introduced "chance operations," rolling dice to determine the sequence of dance sections. To make this work, he had to refine and extend his dance technique, coming up with ways to link movements that wouldn't ordinarily be possible side by side. The unnaturalness that resulted was a hallmark of his style, and only the most highly trained and capable dancers could make it look serene and effortless. Cunningham dancers were esteemed as among the best in the world of professional dance.
“In some of Mr. Cunningham's works, even decisions about the ordering of sets, costumes and lighting were made by rolling dice or flipping a coin. This was the case in "Split Sides," a two-part production for which two sets of everything (lighting designs, costumes, etc.) were created, and determining which elements came first was done with great fanfare through dice-rolling in front of the audience just before the curtain went up.”
Of course you can imagine what I’m thinking: how might rolling dice work for a writer? Could one draft a new story making decisions based on chance? If I try it, I’ll report back. (Though, actually, what are these “decisions” I make as I write based on anyway? Hmmm….)
You can read the entire Washington Post appreciation of Merce Cunningham here. I also recommend this Post article, about how a specific modern dance pretty much disappears when a troupe dissolves; other dance groups don’t typically perform older choreography, preferring new stuff:
“The only museum dance has for displaying its creations is the stage. And the best curators are ballet companies, which essentially stockpile works by different choreographers -- performing "The Nutcracker" as well as ballets by, say, Twyla Tharp and Jerome Robbins -- and readily absorb older dances into their repertoires. But the much younger field of modern dance, barely a century old, has grown up around cult figures. These rebels and individualists -- Martha Graham, Cunningham, Paul Taylor, among others -- wanted little to do with one another. Like fashion houses, the choreographers launched their companies as vehicles for their own work. Christian Dior didn't display Ralph Lauren in his shop, nor did Graham want a Taylor piece taking up her time in the spotlight.”
“Where other choreographers looked to music and their own imagination for inspiration, Mr. Cunningham favored the creative strategies of a physicist, a Vegas high roller and a techno-whiz.
“He split the atomic unity of music and dance. No longer were the steps dependent on a beat; in Mr. Cunningham's works, the dancing and the music were utterly independent of each other, existing side by side "in space and time," that is, performed in the same spot for a set number of minutes, but coming together essentially as strangers. He also introduced "chance operations," rolling dice to determine the sequence of dance sections. To make this work, he had to refine and extend his dance technique, coming up with ways to link movements that wouldn't ordinarily be possible side by side. The unnaturalness that resulted was a hallmark of his style, and only the most highly trained and capable dancers could make it look serene and effortless. Cunningham dancers were esteemed as among the best in the world of professional dance.
“In some of Mr. Cunningham's works, even decisions about the ordering of sets, costumes and lighting were made by rolling dice or flipping a coin. This was the case in "Split Sides," a two-part production for which two sets of everything (lighting designs, costumes, etc.) were created, and determining which elements came first was done with great fanfare through dice-rolling in front of the audience just before the curtain went up.”
Of course you can imagine what I’m thinking: how might rolling dice work for a writer? Could one draft a new story making decisions based on chance? If I try it, I’ll report back. (Though, actually, what are these “decisions” I make as I write based on anyway? Hmmm….)
You can read the entire Washington Post appreciation of Merce Cunningham here. I also recommend this Post article, about how a specific modern dance pretty much disappears when a troupe dissolves; other dance groups don’t typically perform older choreography, preferring new stuff:
“The only museum dance has for displaying its creations is the stage. And the best curators are ballet companies, which essentially stockpile works by different choreographers -- performing "The Nutcracker" as well as ballets by, say, Twyla Tharp and Jerome Robbins -- and readily absorb older dances into their repertoires. But the much younger field of modern dance, barely a century old, has grown up around cult figures. These rebels and individualists -- Martha Graham, Cunningham, Paul Taylor, among others -- wanted little to do with one another. Like fashion houses, the choreographers launched their companies as vehicles for their own work. Christian Dior didn't display Ralph Lauren in his shop, nor did Graham want a Taylor piece taking up her time in the spotlight.”
How to Waste Time Online When You're Tired of Facebook
Poet Philip Belcher has been a fount of wonderful information lately, alerting me to two new places where writers can waste, er, spend time usefully online:
1. The Lannan Foundation offers an audio archives that includes “audio files from the popular Readings & Conversations series, other public Lannan events from the past 16 years, as well as selections from the award-winning literary radio program “Bookworm” with Michael Silverblatt.”
2. The Daily Routines blog isn’t being updated—putting together a book, it sounds like—but the archives are fascinating, since the focus of the blog is “how writers, artists, and other interesting people organize their days.”
Flaubert’s routine sounds attractive (except for the part with the pipe):
“Days were as unvaried as the notes of the cuckoo. Flaubert, a man of nocturnal habits, usually awoke at 10 a.m. and announced the event with his bell cord. Only then did people dare speak above a whisper. His valet, Narcisse, straightaway brought him water, filled his pipe, drew the curtains, and delivered the morning mail. Conversation with Mother, which took place in clouds of tobacco smoke particularly noxious to the migraine sufferer, preceded a very hot bath and a long, careful toilette involving the regular application of a tonic reputed to arrest hair loss. At 11 a.m. he entered the dining room, where Mme Flaubert; Liline; her English governess, Isabel Hutton; and very often Uncle Parain would have gathered. Unable to work well on a full stomach, he ate lightly, or what passed for such in the Flaubert household, meaning that his first meal consisted of eggs, vegetables, cheese or fruit, and a cup of cold chocolate. The family then lounged on the terrace, unless foul weather kept them indoors, or climbed a steep path through woods behind their espaliered kitchen garden to a glade dubbed La Mercure after the statue of Mercury that once stood there. Shaded by chestnut trees, near their hillside orchard, they would argue, joke, gossip, and watch vessels sail up and down the river. Another site of open-air refreshment was the eighteenth-century pavilion. After dinner, which generally lasted from seven to nine, dusk often found them there, looking out at moonlight flecking the water and fisherman casting their hoop nets for eel.
“In June 1852, Flaubert told Louise Colet that he worked from 1 p.m. to 1 a.m.. A year later, when he assumed partial responsibility for Liline's education and gave her an hour or more of his time each day, he may not have put pen to paper at his large round writing table until two o'clock or later.”
Source: Frederick Brown, Flaubert: A Biography
Thank you, Philip!
1. The Lannan Foundation offers an audio archives that includes “audio files from the popular Readings & Conversations series, other public Lannan events from the past 16 years, as well as selections from the award-winning literary radio program “Bookworm” with Michael Silverblatt.”
2. The Daily Routines blog isn’t being updated—putting together a book, it sounds like—but the archives are fascinating, since the focus of the blog is “how writers, artists, and other interesting people organize their days.”
Flaubert’s routine sounds attractive (except for the part with the pipe):
“Days were as unvaried as the notes of the cuckoo. Flaubert, a man of nocturnal habits, usually awoke at 10 a.m. and announced the event with his bell cord. Only then did people dare speak above a whisper. His valet, Narcisse, straightaway brought him water, filled his pipe, drew the curtains, and delivered the morning mail. Conversation with Mother, which took place in clouds of tobacco smoke particularly noxious to the migraine sufferer, preceded a very hot bath and a long, careful toilette involving the regular application of a tonic reputed to arrest hair loss. At 11 a.m. he entered the dining room, where Mme Flaubert; Liline; her English governess, Isabel Hutton; and very often Uncle Parain would have gathered. Unable to work well on a full stomach, he ate lightly, or what passed for such in the Flaubert household, meaning that his first meal consisted of eggs, vegetables, cheese or fruit, and a cup of cold chocolate. The family then lounged on the terrace, unless foul weather kept them indoors, or climbed a steep path through woods behind their espaliered kitchen garden to a glade dubbed La Mercure after the statue of Mercury that once stood there. Shaded by chestnut trees, near their hillside orchard, they would argue, joke, gossip, and watch vessels sail up and down the river. Another site of open-air refreshment was the eighteenth-century pavilion. After dinner, which generally lasted from seven to nine, dusk often found them there, looking out at moonlight flecking the water and fisherman casting their hoop nets for eel.
“In June 1852, Flaubert told Louise Colet that he worked from 1 p.m. to 1 a.m.. A year later, when he assumed partial responsibility for Liline's education and gave her an hour or more of his time each day, he may not have put pen to paper at his large round writing table until two o'clock or later.”
Source: Frederick Brown, Flaubert: A Biography
Thank you, Philip!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Julia Peterkin Award for Poets
This year’s Julia Peterkin Award is for poets. (Disclosure: I teach in the Converse College Low-Residency MFA program, but I’m not one of the judges for this competition. More disclosure: I won this award in fiction once.) Note that previously published work is acceptable.
Submission Guidelines for the Julia Peterkin Award
Eligibility
The 2010 Julia Peterkin Award is open to all poets writing original works in English. Previously published works are eligible for inclusion in the submission.
Manuscript Format Guidelines
Entries must be typed on quality paper, 8 1/2 by 11. Photocopies or copies from letter-quality printers are acceptable. To enter send up to 10 pages of poetry. In addition, include a cover page with the writer's name, address, daytime phone number, and title of submission. Also include a one-page biography. Author's name should not appear on the manuscript.
Entry Requirements
An entry fee of $15 made payable to: Converse College English Department.
Deadline: Jan. 15, 2010.
Results will be posted on the award web page. Include a self-addressed, stamped envelope if you would like direct notification of contest results. Results will be mailed in June of 2010. No manuscripts can be returned.
Send one copy of the manuscript prepared according to format guidelines.
The winner will receive $1000 and travel expenses for a reading at Converse College. Winner must be willing to read in the Fall 2010 Visiting Writers Series.
Send entries to:
The Julia Peterkin Award
Creative Writing Program
Converse College
580 E. Main Street
Spartanburg, SC 29302
More details: http://www.converse.edu/academics/majors/peterkinjuliaaward.html
Submission Guidelines for the Julia Peterkin Award
Eligibility
The 2010 Julia Peterkin Award is open to all poets writing original works in English. Previously published works are eligible for inclusion in the submission.
Manuscript Format Guidelines
Entries must be typed on quality paper, 8 1/2 by 11. Photocopies or copies from letter-quality printers are acceptable. To enter send up to 10 pages of poetry. In addition, include a cover page with the writer's name, address, daytime phone number, and title of submission. Also include a one-page biography. Author's name should not appear on the manuscript.
Entry Requirements
An entry fee of $15 made payable to: Converse College English Department.
Deadline: Jan. 15, 2010.
Results will be posted on the award web page. Include a self-addressed, stamped envelope if you would like direct notification of contest results. Results will be mailed in June of 2010. No manuscripts can be returned.
Send one copy of the manuscript prepared according to format guidelines.
The winner will receive $1000 and travel expenses for a reading at Converse College. Winner must be willing to read in the Fall 2010 Visiting Writers Series.
Send entries to:
The Julia Peterkin Award
Creative Writing Program
Converse College
580 E. Main Street
Spartanburg, SC 29302
More details: http://www.converse.edu/academics/majors/peterkinjuliaaward.html
Residency Deadline Approaching
The deadline for the KHN Center for the Arts is approaching for the January-June 2010 residencies—September 1. I spent a very lovely two weeks in Nebraska City and highly recommend this colony. Read more on their website.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Why You Should Change Your Computer Passwords
Those troublesome computer passwords…but there’s even more trouble if someone hacks in and gets all your information. From Slate:
"Your passwords aren't very secure. Even if you think they are, they probably aren't. Do you use the same or similar passwords for several different important sites? If you don't, pat yourself on the back; if you do, you're not alone—one recent survey found that half of people online use the same password for all the sites they visit. Do you change your passwords often? Probably not; more than 90 percent don't. If one of your accounts falls to a hacker, will he find enough to get into your other accounts? For a scare, try this: Search your e-mail for some of your own passwords. You'll probably find a lot of them, either because you've e-mailed them to yourself or because some Web sites send along your password when you register or when you tell them you've forgotten it. If an attacker manages to get into your e-mail, he'll have an easy time accessing your bank account, your social networking sites, and your fantasy baseball roster."
To get some easy tips about how to make yourself more secure online, read the rest of the article here.
"Your passwords aren't very secure. Even if you think they are, they probably aren't. Do you use the same or similar passwords for several different important sites? If you don't, pat yourself on the back; if you do, you're not alone—one recent survey found that half of people online use the same password for all the sites they visit. Do you change your passwords often? Probably not; more than 90 percent don't. If one of your accounts falls to a hacker, will he find enough to get into your other accounts? For a scare, try this: Search your e-mail for some of your own passwords. You'll probably find a lot of them, either because you've e-mailed them to yourself or because some Web sites send along your password when you register or when you tell them you've forgotten it. If an attacker manages to get into your e-mail, he'll have an easy time accessing your bank account, your social networking sites, and your fantasy baseball roster."
To get some easy tips about how to make yourself more secure online, read the rest of the article here.
DC-Area Poets: Jenny McKean Moore Workshop
The Jenny McKean Moore Free Community Workshop at George Washington University is accepting applications for the Fall 2009 class. The guest instructor is poet Ed Skoog, and the deadline for applications is August 31, 2009.
Because this program obstinately and bafflingly does not seem to have any information posted on any website that I can find, I’m linking to area poet Bernadette Geyer’s web site where you can find the submission details. I’ve typed out this mailed flyer in the past, but enough already, GW English Department! Post this info on the web!
Because this program obstinately and bafflingly does not seem to have any information posted on any website that I can find, I’m linking to area poet Bernadette Geyer’s web site where you can find the submission details. I’ve typed out this mailed flyer in the past, but enough already, GW English Department! Post this info on the web!
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