Yes, it's long. Hey, it's the New Yorker. But when you have time, click HERE to read the entire article. Hemingway and other greats get a mention.
Here's a bit- to entice:
Writing is selection. Just to start a piece of writing you have to
choose one word and only one from more than a million in the language.
Now keep going. What is your next word? Your next sentence, paragraph,
section, chapter? ... You select what goes in and
you decide what stays out. At base you have only one criterion: If
something interests you, it goes in—if not, it stays out. That’s a crude
way to assess things, but it’s all you’ve got. Forget market research.
Never market-research your writing. Write on subjects in which you have
enough interest on your own to see you through all the stops, starts,
hesitations, and other impediments along the way.
John McPhee
The New Yorker
Showing posts with label New Yorker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Yorker. Show all posts
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Day 3, Inauguration Day in Paradise
This morning's lecture on Endings was like a college class. In fact, it was. Almost two hours on endings. More than I can take in, blog about, or probably ever need to know.
On to the afternoon workshop. (after a long mid-day break when the Inauguration was shown in the auditorium on a large screen)
Ann started the session sharing the way she gets tension into her writing. Excellent tips, too long to enumerate here, that looked like a football playbook when she sketched her plan on the whiteboard. That one moment may have been worth the price of the week's conference. I now have a revision trick, one that works in fiction and non-fiction, to heighten the emotional content of my writing.
Then we analyzed another New Yorker essay (we'd read Granny's Bridge by Tony Earley on day 1). This one was "Family History: Alone at the Movies." Ann pointed out that even in such a short piece, the Mother's slight dialog makes her come alive. The ending tells us so much. Reading these essays and getting Ann's take on them -- that no matter what you are writing, you need to include when, where, why, dialog, character development and the all-important SO WHAT-- pretty much made my day. That and her description of revising for emotional tension.
I could have left happy right then.
But we analyzed two more manuscripts, each for a full hour. Those writers went away with total satisfaction and a plan. That's what they said.
Tomorrow we have a Day of Rest. Nothing planned. Time to read.
At the beginning of the conference Dennis Lehane gave us this admonition:
Take full advantage of the week. Remember, when you want to talk about gerunds and onomatopoeia in the regular world-- "mutant issues"-- nobody gives a shit. In your regular life, non mutants don't care. You can't convert them. So while you are here, get into completely meaningless debates and revel in this time.
So far, I haven't had those discussions with my fellow writers at the Workshop. Then again, maybe I live in a mutant world. I do know a lot of people who love reading and writing, and even gerunds.
On to the afternoon workshop. (after a long mid-day break when the Inauguration was shown in the auditorium on a large screen)
Ann started the session sharing the way she gets tension into her writing. Excellent tips, too long to enumerate here, that looked like a football playbook when she sketched her plan on the whiteboard. That one moment may have been worth the price of the week's conference. I now have a revision trick, one that works in fiction and non-fiction, to heighten the emotional content of my writing.
Then we analyzed another New Yorker essay (we'd read Granny's Bridge by Tony Earley on day 1). This one was "Family History: Alone at the Movies." Ann pointed out that even in such a short piece, the Mother's slight dialog makes her come alive. The ending tells us so much. Reading these essays and getting Ann's take on them -- that no matter what you are writing, you need to include when, where, why, dialog, character development and the all-important SO WHAT-- pretty much made my day. That and her description of revising for emotional tension.
I could have left happy right then.
But we analyzed two more manuscripts, each for a full hour. Those writers went away with total satisfaction and a plan. That's what they said.
Tomorrow we have a Day of Rest. Nothing planned. Time to read.
At the beginning of the conference Dennis Lehane gave us this admonition:
Take full advantage of the week. Remember, when you want to talk about gerunds and onomatopoeia in the regular world-- "mutant issues"-- nobody gives a shit. In your regular life, non mutants don't care. You can't convert them. So while you are here, get into completely meaningless debates and revel in this time.
So far, I haven't had those discussions with my fellow writers at the Workshop. Then again, maybe I live in a mutant world. I do know a lot of people who love reading and writing, and even gerunds.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Late Bloomers and Prodigies
Read Malcolm Gladwell's October article in the New Yorker for lots of reasons. The list of Top Ten poems. Picasso. Cezanne. Stay-at-home Dads. Art patrons. Haiti. But the true theme of the piece is the difference between early starters and late bloomers.
The Cézannes of the world bloom late not as a result of some defect in character, or distraction, or lack of ambition, but because the kind of creativity that proceeds through trial and error necessarily takes a long time to come to fruition.
I think he's also writing about not giving up. A good thought for the New Year.
The Cézannes of the world bloom late not as a result of some defect in character, or distraction, or lack of ambition, but because the kind of creativity that proceeds through trial and error necessarily takes a long time to come to fruition.
I think he's also writing about not giving up. A good thought for the New Year.
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