The biggest piece of advice that I would give to an in-coming student studying literary fiction would be to keep an open mind. Not everyone will agree on writing advice, so when you get critiques on your short stories, you’ll need to figure out what advice works best with your writing style. You’ll also be scared of feedback at first, but eventually your confidence will grow. Lastly, just keep writing!
Category: Fiction Writing Journals
The two chapters in Bird by Bird focused on plot and dialogue. Plot is something that I tend to struggle with, since I feel like I have so many ideas and so many different directions that a story could go in. Sometimes, it’s really overwhelming to sift through all the possibilities, but Lamott’s advice is really helpful. Characters push the plot forward, and if the possibilities that you come up with don’t fit in with what the characters would do/say, then the story wouldn’t be believable. I liked how Lamott really pushed the idea of character within plot, as sometimes I feel like people discuss plot without discussing character. In all honesty, I feel a sort of reverence to the characters I write, because without them there’s no story. Sometimes you just have to write and let the characters decide where the story goes. Lamott discusses momentum, and while this idea is frustrating, she has a point. Things won’t move quickly when you write your first draft and it’s incredibly slow and painful, but you just have to keep going. The dialogue chapter was interesting, as I feel like I struggle with writing good dialogue sometimes. It’s one of the biggest things that I focus on as a reader. If the dialogue is unnatural or if it just feels forced, then I won’t enjoy the story, no matter how well-crafted the plot or the characters are. Lamott also discusses how each character is different and has to speak a different way. I think I struggle with this the most. I feel as though all of my characters tend to speak the same way, even if they aren’t in the same story.
How did he end up here? Arthur sat on the ground, his thighs sinking into the wet soil beneath him. Well, they would have, if Arthur had still been alive. He felt nothing beneath him, nothing at all, except for a dull ache where his heart would’ve been. Crumpled yellowing leaves littered his tombstone, almost as though it were a cruel joke from God that he should fall with the leaves. Arthur took a deep breath, imagining the crisp autumn air filling his lungs.
“What’s the ‘S’ stand for?”
Arthur nearly jumped, but it was hard to be scared of things once you were dead. Instead, he turned and took in the sight before him. A young boy, with black, feathered hair and silver eyes stared at him. Arthur wasn’t sure what Death looked like, but he hadn’t expected this.
“Simon.” He answered. Death cocked his head,
“And the epitaph?” The boy asked, “Why’d you choose that?”
The second session at the art building was more productive than the first session. While the first session had me planning and figuring out what I’d like to do, the second session allowed me to actually take a look at some of the materials I could use. I’ve settled on making a pop-up book of my first short story, though I found that I ran into some trouble with the paper. I thought that I would need more stable, construction-like paper, so trying to find something that worked was challenging for me. In the end, I settled on this type of red paper, with golden oval decorations on it. To me, it looked like the scales of the dragon in my story, and it honestly just looked pretty so I wanted it. Since I didn’t need anything cut by professor Gorham, I was able to get some of the basics done on my book, like cutting pages and making sure the pop-up section would work. I’ve never been great at crafting things, but I think my book is turning out okay so far.
The time spent at the art studio really helped me bring some of my ideas into focus. I had thought of a few ideas, but I hadn’t settled on anything until we had the time to plan things out. I’ve decided to make my book based on the first short story I wrote, which was about a depressed woman who starts seeing her children’s imaginations. I think I want to make the book look like a standard fantasy-esq novel, but I’m not quite sure yet. Someone at my table said it would be cool if I made a pop-up book, which makes sense with some of the themes of my story. Pop-up books are child-like and full of wonder, which is what is lacking in my character’s life. I didn’t get a lot of physical work done on the book, but I think I’m making more progress in figuring out what I’d like to do.
I really enjoy reading the advice Lamott gives in Bird by Bird. In the first chapter I read for class, “School Lunches”, I appreciated how Lamott’s message was to just get something, anything, onto the page. Her Polaroid metaphor helped me understand just how important the act of writing for the sake of writing is. You can never find out the true focus of a story or an idea if you don’t write it out. It seems like obvious advice, but I think all writers struggle with a little bit of a god complex. We think we’ll have the answers to all of our problems when it concerns writing, but in actuality, we have to mess up and write page after page of shitty first drafts. The second chapter, “Character”, was really enjoyable for me. I also love coming up with characters. Beyond prose and description and plot devices, characterization is probably my favorite aspect of writing. Creating characters is, essentially, creating a person that may or may not exist. Lamott tells us that characters take on certain aspects of yourself or people that you know, and that you’ll either love or hate them for it. I understand that. In one of my current projects, I’m writing a first-person narrative, a character named “Abel”. Personally, I’ve grown to hate Abel. This could just be because I get frustrated with the idea of perfectionism and the crippling self-doubt in the project, but I find Abel to be selfish, rude, and deceitful at some points. However, I didn’t set out to write Abel as a selfish, rude, or deceitful person at all. He was supposed to be quiet, kind, a little self-deprecating at times, but overall, he was just a regular person. This, I feel, is what Lamott means when she writes, “Just don’t pretend you know more about your characters than they do, because you don’t. Stay open to them” (pg. 53). You’ll never truly know your characters without a first draft, and as much as I dislike Abel, he’s also funny, and mournful, and trying his best within circumstances out of his control. None of these characteristics would’ve been discovered without writing and spewing words out onto a page.
I really needed to read pages 20-31 in Bird by Bird. Not because I had to for this assignment, but because these pages centered on one of my biggest problems as a writer. Pages 21-27 focus on the idea of a shitty first draft, something that I’ve talked about with my peers in multiple classes. Despite the fact that I’ve had this idea pounded into my head for almost two semesters, it’s just now starting to take root. First drafts, as said in BBB, are supposed to be crap. They’re supposed to suck. First drafts are essentially word vomit. We, as writers, have to get something out in order to make anything at all. This ties in with perfectionism, the other topic discussed on pages 27-31. I’m still trying to get over my own perfectionism because I can tell that it holds me back from writing. It keeps me from word vomiting and getting something down on the page. For me, I look at my writing, sentence by sentence, and see every minute error and immediately decide that what I’m working on is shit and should never ever be seen by anyone. My partner typically looks at my work while I’m like this (picture a very tired education major reading one paragraph while a very dramatic and inconsolable writer is face-down on the floor contemplating suicide), and then she’ll say, “I like it” or “There are some errors, sure, but aren’t you still figuring it out?”. Even my partner understands the importance of first drafts, but my perfectionism gets in the way of truly getting anything done. Lately, I’ve really just tried to write without worrying about making it “good”. I think Lamott summarizes this well when she writes, “You can still discover new treasures under all those piles [of clutter], clean things up, edit things out, fix things, get a grip” (pg 28-29). Clutter, in essence, can be beautiful. It shows us that we are human, and what is writing without humanity? I guess I do need to get a grip on perfectionism. I really enjoyed the exercise on page 27, where Lamott says to turn the voices in your head into a little mouse and then lock it away in a jar. It seems like a good way to minimize the effect of whatever you’re telling yourself. Also, the imagery is pretty humorous.
I feel a little torn over “Good with Boys”. On one hand, the voice and the development (or lack thereof) the narrator, Jill, was interesting. I’m not certain how old the school kids are, but I’m assuming that they’re in middle school, probably around 8th grade, so it makes sense that Jill is interested in boys. Even if she admits that she knows her crush on Esau won’t last, I think she’s driven by a curiosity of boys more than anything. This explains her selfish behavior, yet doesn’t justify it. Jill is incredibly unlikeable, but I admire that in a writer. Being able to write an unlikeable character while maintaining a sense of realism is difficult, and while the narrative wasn’t my favorite, it wasn’t necessarily because of Jill’s personality/narration. I also like how the author included a sense of inner turmoil within Jill. There are multiple moments where Jill wrestles with being “boy crazy” and being “parent favorite”. The readers see that she doesn’t necessarily want to go to the paleontology exhibit, yet for her curiosity surrounding Esau, she pushes herself to do so. The moment that this story takes place in was also well-chosen. Ending the story with the butterfly release allows the reader to see that there may be a point in which Jill begins to grow up. At the start of the story, Jill can be seen as a caterpillar within a cocoon. She has an idea of who she wants to be, but the grappling and insecurities she has surrounding her motivations shows that she’s not fully developed. By the end of the story, the release of the butterflies can symbolize that Jill is on a path to grow into the person she wants to be, even though she is hurting at the moment. This, in my opinion, is a great way to end a short story, especially one that revolves around the main character’s flaws.
Prompt: After doing the reading in Bird By Bird, take a look at your notes. What
concrete things did you appreciate in the reading? What sticks with you? What resonates?
One of the very first things that stuck out to me during the reading was actually found on page 3. “Writing is about telling the truth”, essentially, writing allows us to understand who we are. I appreciated this because, like most people do, I had a hard time figuring out who I was. Heck, I still feel like sometimes I don’t understand myself. Yet, something clicks when I write. I feel like the words that I write are true and honest, even if it takes a while to get to there. This brings me to the second thing that stuck with me. Throughout the chapter, there was one question that loomed over everything. If writing is something that is so personal and true and honest, then why is it so hard? While there might not be a real concrete answer, the one Lamott gives is that the world is against writers. Whether it’s time, circumstance, distractions, or the exploding political landscape, there is always something that should keep writers from writing. Sometimes, these things succeed, but other times, as Lamott states, we “clear a space for the writing voice”. One of the greatest things I’ve learned over this past year is that writing takes persistence and faith, two things that are embedded in this chapter. Specifically, on page 9, Lamott writes that “You are learning what you aren’t writing and this is helping you find out what you are writing”. Writing is trial and error and trial and error and a little bit of tears and some coffee and then ending with three words on a mostly blank page. But, three words is more than you had. Persistence. The poem by Philip Lopate is featured on page 11. The overall message, at least to me, is that your demons are your closest friends and the moments of frustration and jubilation when it comes to life can be used in your writing. The last thing, and probably the biggest thing that resonated with me, was the question of why. Why am I writing? I had to stop and really think about it. Being published and successful sound fun and amazing and I definitely strive for that, yet I know that that isn’t the reason. I think I write for myself and to create worlds, characters, and stories that connect people even in the darkest of times. In a way, I think I write to create a legacy for myself, something that I can be proud of. Though, the reasons may change, I think the most important reason that I write is because it makes me happy and it feels right.
Prompt: What do you like, find interesting, etc.? What kind of an artist’s book are you
thinking of? Can you think of ways that two different genres of art work together to harmonize
or synergize?
There were a few things from the interviews that I found interesting. The idea of the livre d’artiste being a “beautifully bound book”, yet containing something personal is almost touching in a way. Sarah Bodman specifically stood out to me, as she explained that her books closely followed the livre d’artiste tradition of being beautifully-bound and exquisite looking. Yet, I also like the idea that many of the artists described by stating that they create their books with an intention of being humorous. I think that for me, I’d like to merge the idea of having something that looks wonderful and exquisite as a façade for the humor and silliness beneath it. I also found it interesting that many of the artists agreed that while these books have no places in gallery settings or for monetary gain, they are-or almost- as important as those works. Artists books are incredibly personal and can not only reflect how an individual thinks and feels during a certain period, but can reflect a culture and society as well. I’m not sure yet what artist’s book I might think of. When I created an artist book during my non-fiction writing course, I focused more on connecting the things I wrote about in my life, specifically the evolution of different relationships from my childhood up until college. I think I’d like to highlight the similarities in each of my stories when it comes time to create the book. This way, I can try to pinpoint a specific writing style that I might have. Two different genres of art can work together to harmonize in a few ways. Firstly, people have different ways to interpret things. A person who may not resonate wholly with words might not make much of a poem, but if that poem were represented through a drawing or painting, that person may take or create an interpretation of their own. Going along with this, different styles of art/writing could also create conflicting themes and messages, which could create discourse on the topic. For instance, words could convey that one should “reach for the stars”, but a painting could show a burnt hand reaching for scorching flames or vice versa. By seeing a similar message conveyed by different styles/genres of art, we, as viewers, have the opportunity to look at the message through two or more unique perspectives that we otherwise wouldn’t have.
