Author: Alex (Page 20 of 21)

Prompt: Write an entry focusing on an aspect of the story, “Our Children”.

Response: Vanessa Cuti’s short story, “Our Children”, is written in first person. Nothing would be odd about this, except for the fact that the narrator seems to have no sense of introspection. From our discussions regarding characters, the narrator in this story definitely fits in the category of a “bad” character, yet most authors write in moments of introspection for their characters. These moments give us, the readers, a taste of a “bad” character’s more redeeming qualities as well as fleshing them out as a well-rounded character. In Cuti’s story however, the narrator is convinced of quite the opposite while acknowledging that she has done some bad things. Her attitude is, “Yes, I’ve done something wrong and ruined many lives, but I’m the good person here!”, which is, in my opinion, a lot more believable. We, as people, are full of denial, especially when we do selfish things for selfish reasons. As we can see in Cuti’s story though, the narrator acknowledges that she’s done something wrong for selfish reasons, even if she never intended it to go as far as it did, yet she also places blame on others whenever the opportunity presents itself. One aspect of the story that I liked was the lack of dialogue. From a craft perspective, it’s hard to write a story that is based solely on one character’s thoughts, feelings, and descriptions of the world and people around them. It also shows just how little the narrator truly cares about the thoughts and opinions of the people closest to her. We never really hear dialogue from her ex-husband or from her children and we briefly hear from Dan himself. The narrator wants a regular, typical family life where she is a mother and wife and everything is just wonderful. But as soon as she begins to feel a sense of normalcy, or even boredom, she wants to drive fast, smoke some weed, and have sex with Dan “like it was in the beginning”. If we heard from other characters in the story, the narrator may be convinced that something is wrong with her and that she needs to evaluate herself. By just having the narrator and her thoughts, we see just how quickly and dramatically her thoughts progress, from wanting to leave her kids in the woods to grow old in to immediately wanting to “look the part” of a mother. Cuti’s decision to have a first-person point of view is seen clearly in these moments of the narrator’s identity crisis.

Prompt: Write an entry noting points that interested you in Chapter 5

Response: This chapter focused on description. Description seems like one of those writing concepts that are easy to grasp, but when someone tries to write, it turns out to be harder than initially thought. Even seasoned writers and authors have trouble finding the right words or the right shot to describe. The author of this section talks about many traps that writers tend to fall into. For example, the overuse of adjectives and adverbs tend to be a trap that many fall into. I know that in my own writing, I definitely overuse adjectives and adverbs. It can be a really hard habit to break, but the author then goes on to say that even if one doesn’t know how to say something exactly, it is just important to get something on the page. Words can be used as placeholders, even if they aren’t necessarily the best words to use during description. This, to me, was an uplifting point during the chapter. I always feel like my descriptions are terrible, so much so that I tend to overthink my word choices, which gets me nowhere. I also think that it was important to go over how each sense can be used within writing. I feel that many writers focus on describing what characters can see, rather what they hear, smell, taste, and feel. Using the senses can enhance a description that relies heavily on sight alone. Going off this, I enjoyed the section about synesthesia. For me, I had never thought about using synesthesia within my own writing, and I hadn’t focused on it in works that I’ve read, but while reading that section, I couldn’t help but think about how some of my favorite stories most definitely used this technique. Lastly, one of the most important lessons I’ve taken away from this chapter is that it is better to over-describe at first, rather than under-describe. A writer can always edit and revise, but it’s harder to do if you don’t have much of a description to work with.

Prompt: Write an entry noting points that interested you in Chapter 4

Response: This chapter focused on the concept of point of view as well as the different POV techniques a writer can use within their own work. I found much of this chapter helpful, as the author of this section stated, I found that I just pick whatever point of view feels right. Going through the different POVs was especially helpful. In my experience, students only learn about point of view early on, but then no one ever really brings it up again. While we all know what first person, second person, and third person points of view are, it was nice to get a refresher on POVs such as first person peripheral, third person objective, and unreliable first person. The small differences between subcategories within first and third person points of view are overlooked when one begins to write out a short story or novel, but I feel like having that knowledge of specific types of POVs is helpful. Some of the biggest things I took away from this chapter were the sections regarding distance and the POV contract. Regarding distance, I realized that in order for a story to be fully fleshed out, there needs to be a consistent distance with some moments of panoramic views or other medium shots. In my own writing, I found that many of my stories tend to play it relatively safe with distance, but at the same time, I feel as though my writing becomes almost predictable as a result. The distance section made me think about switching shots during some points within a narrative in order to highlight certain scenes. The time distance was also helpful, as the two examples the author gave were very clear. The examples made me see how time distances change the pacing of a story. More immediate scenes rely on a present time distance, such as, “The look from my friends makes me realize that I said something I shouldn’t have”. While scenes set in a past tense tend to move a little slower, “I saw the look on my friends’ faces. They looked displeased. It was then that I realized that I had said something I shouldn’t have,”. Time distance is another aspect of writing that I guess I haven’t really paid much attention to in the past, so it was really helpful to get an introduction into how it can alter the pacing of a story. The last section I found helpful was the POV contract. As writers, many people hear that it is your responsibility to create an environment and story that a reader can truly be immersed in. Regardless of our creative reasoning, a sudden change in point of view may been seen as a breach of that contract between reader and writer. It takes the reader out of their immersion, makes them realize that maybe the writer can’t be trusted to stick to a format or point of view. Even if it’s by accident, any deviation in a POV that isn’t explainable by plot can lead to a writer’s downfall. I hadn’t thought about the trust between reader and writer, but the more I think about it, the more I remember about books I didn’t care for and what the author had done to make me dislike the story and craft elements of it. While topics such as point of view and distance may seem like afterthoughts in comparison to plot and character, they are incredibly important attributes of stories that can really make or break them.

Prompt: Take 15-30 minutes to write about the following: What is your writing space? Describe it. Talk about noise, distractions. Talk about how you focus and how you create. Talk about what conditions are essential for you to write.

Response: My writing space is not so much a place as it is a mindset. I’ve written during seminars and lectures, on road trips and flights, and on South African balconies overlooking the sea. Rarely do I need a desk and a lamp, although while I’m at school, that tends to be the case. Harsh yellow light reflects from my dormitory window as I type away on my laptop. The chair makes my back ache, with its hardbacked wooden frame and annoyingly curved legs. Despite this, I write as best I can, which most days, is a little more than a mediocre attempt at having my words make sense. Again, I don’t have a specific writing space, though I really should. If anything, my writing space can be anywhere, as long as I have headphones. My first pair of writing headphones was a bulky thing, with wide black cushioned pillows that squeezed my head until I thought it would burst. Back then, I really thought that those headphones literally pushed my ideas and words out from my fingertips and onto an electronic page. I’d listen to musical soundtrack after musical soundtrack. Traditional hits such as The Phantom of the Opera and Cabaret constantly rang in my head, their somber notes of romantic ideologies playing over and over. From tradition came the off-Broadway hits, like Hedwig and the Angry Inch, where I was introduced to the manic anger and desperation that would eventually find their way into my stories. After I retired my bulky pair, I was gifted with wired earbuds, my favorite pair being black with iridescent green highlights. They were actually born from an accident, when my partner accidentally knocked my laptop to the ground, coincidentally snapping the plug-in as it landed. My partner then gifted me the black earbuds, mostly I think, to clear her conscience. Through those earbuds, classic rock came. Thundering drums and sleezy-sounding guitars pronounced that all anyone should care about was sex and drums and rock and roll. Meatloaf proclaimed his insatiable appetite for riding along flaming highways and escaping the mundane ideas of society, so much so that I was moved when he plummeted to the bottom of a cliff in a blazing song, torn and twisted at the berm of a burning bike. Although, while I listened to rock and roll, I found that my words couldn’t keep up. I lacked the grittiness and lust for freedom in my words. This isn’t to say I gave up, rather, I found new inspiration. Airpods were a Christmas gift that I greedily took hold of. Blocking out the world had never been so sweet. With noise cancelling capabilities, I could block out the entire world, focusing only on my words, only on what I wanted to write. Classical music drifted through my head, with soft piano keys playing chords in major and minor, seemingly without a care in the world. Lately, I’ve found that something is missing. With music and lyrics, I had always been able to discern feeling and a rhythm for my work. Now, I feel through classical music, yet it seems wrong. I can no longer hear the conversations of my friends that accompanied Freddie Mercury’s ballads or roared over the sounds of a squealing Telecaster. Music is important to my creative work. It’s something that has always accompanied me wherever I wrote, be it train, plane, or seminar. Yet, music has never been the muse of which I write, but rather, the soundtrack cast behind the laughter of friends. I need to hear the stories of others. I need to see their joy, their sorrow, their confusion as to why I ask them how they felt during certain moments. I don’t need a place to write. I don’t need a desk or a pen. I do need people. Sometimes, I may need them a bit more than I need earbuds and music.