Alyce Wilson's Blog: Dispatches from Wonderland - Posts Tagged "writing"

In my personal blog (Through the Looking Glass), I have been writing an Oscar series, based on my impressions of all the movies that have won Best Picture. I've finally reached the millennium and have watched both "The Fellowship of the Ring" and "The Two Towers" in preparation for watching the Oscar-winning third film in the trilogy, "The Return of the King."

Completist that I am, I'm also watching all the extras on the extended versions of the film my husband owns. In particular, I was struck by a short documentary about the translation of Tolkien's work into a screenplay.

Some changes were, of course, legend, such as eliminating the popular character Tom Bombadil. The filmmakers also contemplated giving Arwen more screentime by having her help with the fighting at the Battle of Helm's Deep. Due in part to a negative reaction from fans, they deep-sixed this idea in favor of incorporating flashbacks to tell more of her love story with Aragorn.

They also made more subtle changes, such as changing which character said a specific speech. For example, they gave a passage about Eowyn, said by Gandalf in the book, to Grima Wormtongue. This, of course, made the passage seem dark and threatening rather than compassionate.

As any writer who has borrowed from real life knows, whether writing fiction or a memoir, we do this sort of thing all the time. We borrow things that one person says and put it in another person's mouth, or our own. We move locations, heighten situations, modify characters.

I have done it in my own columns and essays, and as long as I adhere to the essential truth of a situation, I rarely hear complaints from family and friends.

The question I have for you, as readers, is this: how much can an author change the facts and still call a work nonfiction? Or even creative nonfiction?

And for the writers among us, how much do you borrow from real life?

Associated Content/Yahoo! News has published a short piece I wrote for Valentine's day, called You've Just Got to Believe.

Also, please check out the excellent interview of me done by Michael A. Ventrella. He asked some great questions about writing and publishing.

This past week, I served as a guest mentor for LJ Idol's Work Room, a place where this year's contestants could brainstorm on the week's topic or ask for writing advice. It was the first time I got to give such focused criticism since grad school, and I hadn't realized how much I missed it.

Over the course of the week, I had many opportunities to think about the best way to give useful feedback and the best way to use it, once it's provided.

When giving feedback, I've learned to focus my critiques. This was something I learned while teaching English 15, a freshman composition course. If I provided too many comments, the students had difficulty figuring out what to change.

Therefore, when I'm looking at a rough draft, I consider the key elements. What type of piece is it? Who is the intended audience? What do the author's goals appear to be? How well does the author achieve those goals? I direct my comments towards the best way for the author to improve, even it means ignoring minor errors and awkward word constructions along the way.

Once you have feedback, what do you do with it? I suggest reading through them and considering how well the critic seems to "get" what you were trying to achieve. If they seem to be way off base, the problem may not be with the critic but rather with the fact that you have failed to make your goals clear.

When I was working with an entire workshop of classmates, I could put all the comments together and determine if several of them had similar suggestions. But even with one critique, you can receive valuable insights into how a reader views the work.

Of course, the most important aspect is never to ask for feedback if you're not looking for criticism. If someone takes the time to look at your piece, you're not obligated to incorporate her suggestions; but you shouldn't immediately reply with a seven-point defense of your piece as it is! This was why, in our graduate workshops, we weren't allowed to say anything about our poems as they were being critiqued, unless it was in response to a direct question. Then, once the classmates were done, we could ask them for clarification or follow up with questions of our own. If you are convinced your piece is perfect as it is, don't waste someone's time by asking him to read it!

Rather, determine which of the comments are most helpful and use them as a way of revisiting the piece. I would recommend putting it aside for at least a week before starting to work on the revisions, to get a little emotional distance and to give the suggestions a chance to sink in and spur your thinking. Of course, if you're working on a stricter deadline, you'll have to get to work sooner, but in general, it's good to have a little downtime right after a critique, even if it's just an hour.

There's a lot more to critiquing and revising, but by following my rules above, I believe you can drastically improve your workshop or critique experience.

What about you? What do you look for when you're critiquing a writer's work? If you're a writer, how do you use the critiques that people give you?

Many years ago (is it really decades?), I read Erma Bombeck's newspaper column faithfully. I laughed at her sagas of lost socks, mercurial teenage children, and fractured domesticity. At the time, however, I knew of such things only second-hand. Without direct experience of parenting, I laughed mostly because I found her turns of phrase to be funny, or because I recognized my mother in Bombeck's imperfect but affectionate mothering.

Now, these many (many, many...) years later, finally the mother of a toddler myself (I've been busy, OK?), I reread some of her work in two collections: Motherhood: The Second Oldest Profession, and Forever, Erma: Best-Loved Writing From America's Favorite Humorist. I wasn't prepared for what I would discover.

Bombeck's writing, as I rediscovered it, had many more dimensions than I'd remembered. Far from being merely lighthearted, it was also wise, and at times even heart-rending. In Motherhood, for example, she took a newspaper column and expanded upon it, sharing the letters a mother left behind for her children to read after she'd passed on. In them, she labeled each one her favorite child and told them not to tell the others, to save their feelings. I have to admit, I teared up and had to run and hug my toddler.

She faced head-on the hypocrisies of motherhood. At a time when mothers were expected to either be like Donna Reed or have the decency to shut up about it, she not only fessed up to her faults but reveled in them. She normalized the normal mom, and for that she was rewarded with millions of faithful readers who plastered her columns all over their refrigerators.

As I read through her columns and essays, I became aware of something else, as well. All these years, unconsciously, Bombeck has informed my writing. While I never analyzed her work in a writing class, I must have internalized her tendency to make serious thoughts more palatable through the use of humor. I learned to make emphasis through using short sentences, and to allow readers some space to draw their own conclusions. Rereading her work, I was astonished by how much I'd learned from her, without even realizing it.

My gratitude is too big to fit on a refrigerator.

As a writer, I am often inspired but whatever I am reading. So for example, if I am reading a collection of sparse, Asian-inspired poetry, I may write similarly concise poems. If I'm reading something lyrical and dense, I am more likely to brocade my paragraphs with adjectives. When I read more experimental works, I am inspired to take literary chances.

Recently, I read "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" by Jonathan Safran Foer. I loved his use of voice, the poetic way the characters' thoughts were depicted. This made me want to take more risks in my own writing and to bring more of a poetic feel to my prose. Because of this, I wrote two pieces I would never have written otherwise, both for Season 8 of the LJ Idol competition.

The first piece, which I called "Chateau L'Endurance," was based on the prompt "Sticks and Stones." This phrase, of course, conjured up memories of grade-school bullies (from the saying "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me"). Rather than simply sharing a story of a childhood confrontation, I took a more poetic, dreamlike approach to the topic. The end result was a flight of imagination, where I asked the reader to picture building a unique castle or fortress from both bad and good experiences, using some specific examples from my life. My reader feedback to this piece was positive, with many people praising the unique approach.

The second piece, "The Problem of Diving Horses," was a response to a "current events" writing prompt, where we were supposed to write something inspired by a news item. I drew my inspiration from a piece about the conflict that developed over the prospect of bringing diving horses back to Atlantic City. But rather than just writing an essay about the pros and cons of treating horses that way, I took the piece in a more intuitive direction. I allowed the news story to inspire a wealth of associations, which I followed through, stream-of-consciousness style, to a personal revelation about communication between loved ones. This piece met with an even more positive response, with readers exclaiming that I had outdone myself, or that it was their favorite piece of mine.

That is why I find it so exciting to discover new authors. I look forward to learning from them, as both a reader and as an author.

Writers, have you had similar experiences? If so, whose writing have you found inspirational?

Reading Arthur Golden's "Memoirs of a Geisha" fairly recently made me think about the role of research in writing fiction. In particular, what does an author owe to a subject who, like the geishas interviewed by Golden, reveal personal stories?

When Golden's book came out, one of the interview subjects was upset about the way her life was portrayed. In particular, according to the paperback's introduction, she seemed to be upset that her negative assessments of certain individuals were highlighted as much as they were.

Thus lies the question: unless you're ghost-writing an autobiography, how much does an author owe to the subject? Is labeling the book fiction, rather than nonfiction, enough to allow the author some freedom?

To date, most of my published prose has been personal essays, many of which involve real-life friends and family. Generally speaking, I aim for accuracy, but I'm not above making changes for dramatic effect.

When it comes to fiction, which I've been writing more recently, I borrow loosely from real people and events. Such is the prerogative of an author.

However, I'm also discovering the importance of doing research for some fiction pieces. If it became necessary to interview someone, and if that interview was used, in large portions, to form the essential details of major characters, I would certainly have to give matters of accuracy some consideration. Given Golden's high-profile differences with his interview subject, I believe I would make terms clear -- perhaps even in writing -- before engaging in the interview.

What do you think?

I finally got around to reading the April 2012 issue of Poetry, and the journal prompted me to do some deep soul-searching... or as deep as it can get when I'm dealing with diaper changes and taking dance breaks with my toddler. But really, he does have the most adorable way of asking: as soon as he hears a danceable song, he puts up his arms and entreats, "Dance with me?"

What was I saying? Oh, yes, the April 2012 issue of Poetry, wherein the editors celebrated the magazine's 100th year by having some poets reminisce about famous poets they've met. In particular, I was taken by Patricia Smith's piece on Gwendolyn Brooks, bringing her to life as the practical-minded but warm-hearted person one would expect from Brooks' poetry.

I did not encounter Brooks' work until I took an African-American Poetry course in grad school, but upon reading her work I numbered her among my favorite poets and marveled that I'd never heard of her before.

The part that sticks out for me, though, was something that the famous poet said to Smith while at a reading. Smith writes:

I had uttered something that countless other writers have uttered before, a silence-filler of sorts, a throat-clearing that I assumed Ms. Brooks, and anyone else who had ever picked up a pen, would instantly relate to and agree with. I was craving the comfort of common ground when I said, "I have a real problem finding time to write."

The corner of her mouth twitched, then spread into one of those indulgent smiles that knots you up a little inside. It's the smile a teacher gives you before handing back a test paper with a grade lower than either of you expected.

Without looking directly at me, Gwendolyn said, "Your problem should be finding time for anything else."

One of my great regrets is that I did not travel to Chicago to hear Brooks read while she was alive, but I do not envy Smith that awkward moment. Indeed, I felt as chastened as she did by such muted but pointed criticism.

The problem should be finding time to do anything else. That idea has been rolling around in my head, competing with the myriad tasks I have completed since I read it. While doing water aerobics, cooking dinner, and doing laundry it haunted me. While performing my evening transcription work and writing the weekly recap pieces I've been doing for Yahoo! Television, the phrase echoed. While walking my son in a stroller so that he could sleep, while sorting through submissions to Wild Violet the refrain continued. While feeding my son his Gerber macs and cheese. While reading him Skippyjon Jones for the first time (and then a second time, after he begged, "again"). While taking him to buy new sneakers, because his feet grew a size in a month. All that time, during all those tasks, the phrase kept nagging me.

The problem should be finding time to do anything else.

A friend just wrote me a note -- on actual paper, in the mail! -- telling me how much she admires me for all that I do. And it's true: if you add it up, I do quite a bit. But it is never enough.

No matter how many poems I write, or articles I publish, I always feel as if I ought to be doing more. No matter how many books I read to my son, no matter how many times I dance with him around the living room, I always suspect a "perfect mom" would also be engaging in an afternoon craft project.

The house is never clean enough. The cat never gets enough petting. The magazines pile up, and the e-mail festers. The problem, it seems, is having time for anything.

And yet, I do what most writer moms do: I find ways of fitting it all in. Every day I pick one or two main tasks to complete. Sometimes they are writing tasks; sometimes they are household or organizational tasks. Yesterday, I spent the afternoon putting my toddler's too-small clothes on eBay (but there are bags more of it). Today, I updated my online bookstore to include some excerpts of my essays book (one of many promotional ideas I needed to act upon).

Yesterday, while my toddler slept in his stroller, I sat in a park and checked Wild Violet submissions from my Droid Inspire. On the way back home, I dictated a poem into my voice recorder. Arriving home, I had Dragon Naturally Speaking transcribe the poem while I busied myself getting dinner for my son and myself. The transcription still languishes in my "Poetry" Dropbox folder (which can be accessed from my phone if needed), in need of me to correct the mistakes and whip it into a poem.

But it is there. And that is something.

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What are your issues with writing and time management, and how do you cope?

Several years ago, I was the mom of a newborn, despairing at my messy house. I'd never been a great housekeeper, but with a baby needing nearly every spare moment, the kitchen was covered in grime, the carpet accumulating pet fur, and dust thickening on every surface. When I bewailed the lack of funds to hire a housekeeper, a friend told me about the Fly Lady web site, designed for people like me, who felt too busy to clean. My friend urged me to sign up for the newsletter, which delivered simple household tasks each Monday through Friday, each of them taking 15 minutes or less to achieve.

Dutifully, I signed up for the newsletter, but I deleted the first one unread, believing that before I started this new regime, I ought to first give my house a good top to bottom cleaning. Not this week, I told myself. And not the next, and the next, and the next.

For roughly two years, I deleted those newsletters unread, feeling guilty each time. Finally, about two months ago, I mustered up the courage to read one top to bottom. To my surprise, instead of chiding me for being lazy and disorganized, the newsletter was friendly and cheerful. Instead of bombarding me with a host of undesirable tasks, it recommended just one, easily achievable task: spend 15 minutes putting away clothes in the master bedroom. I could do that! Better yet, the email ended with a reassuring reminder: "You are not behind! I don't want you to try to catch up; I just want you to jump in where we are. O.K.?"

For 15 minutes, I put away clothes, including the shirts which had made a semi-permanent home on the radiator. This meant cleaning some too-small clothes out of a drawer, but I figured it was better to make space for clothes that are currently wearable. In just 15 minutes, I made a huge difference in our bedroom, making our nighttime refuge more livable.

By the end of the week, I'd made huge strides in the bedroom and felt great about it. The next week the newsletter moved me to the front porch, where I cleaned and dusted and decluttered until I felt much happier each time I came home.

After a few weeks, I was beginning to see a real difference. When my landlord called to inform me he'd be coming through with a county inspector for the annual inspection required of rental properties, for once I didn't panic. The house, I knew, looked better than it had in ages. A quick mop of the kitchen floor was all I needed to make it presentable.

I don't always have time every weekday to follow through on the day's "flight plan," but I remind myself not to fret about the days when I can't. The result is that I'm finally beginning to feel better about our living space and, as a result, to feel more in control as a mother, as well.

Now it's time to apply those lessons to my writing. I need to follow my own advice, which I've provided in the past to other write-at-home moms. If I set realistic goals each day -- whether it is to write a 600-word article or to send out a poetry submission -- over time, my efforts will add up.

If I ever doubt that slow and steady efforts can make a huge difference, all I need to do is look around at my house!

What about you? What works best for you when it comes to working writing into your life?

Lately, I've had a couple friends ask me about my tips for working my writing into my duties as a stay-at-home mom. While I've written about this subject in other spaces, I have yet to share it here. Here are some of the strategies that work for me:

* Develop a routine.

Babies and toddlers do best when they know what to expect. Now, before you think that this means scheduling your day in 15-minute increments, let me distinguish between a routine and a schedule. A routine indicates activities (or types of activities) that you do at roughly the same time every day or every week. A schedule typically means activities take place at a specific time. While we have some scheduled activities -- such as my exercise classes and the toddler storytime at the library -- most of the rest of our days follow a routine, where we do similar things at a given time of day.

For example, generally speaking, the morning is when we get out of the house, participate in our scheduled activities, and run errands. Then, we return for lunch (the exact time varies), following that with "quiet time." During quiet time, I usually work on either writing or personal projects, while my son plays with his trains, blocks or other toys. During this time, I might also watch a show on Hulu while he enjoys some of his favorite educational programming.

After "quiet time" we do something together: either reading books, coloring or dancing to music. Then, it's naptime (which may or may not actually happen, but if it doesn't, we at least cuddle). This is followed by dinner prep if I'm cooking that night, or some light housework, if I'm not. We have dinner, then, followed by bath time (on alternate nights), and I deliver him to his father, clean and fed, as my husband returns home from work in time for me to do my evening transcription work.

Your routine will, of course, differ according to your needs, but as long as you work in some "quiet time" where your child learns to entertain him or herself while you work (ideally in the same room as your child), you're setting yourself up for success.

* Set small, achievable goals for each day.

One of the best pieces of advice I got early in my days as a write-at-home mom was to be reasonable about my expectations. No, you're probably not going to get as much done as you used to, but that doesn't mean you need to put aside your writing goals until your little one is off at school. Instead, set smaller goals: for example, to write one 500-word article, or to write two pages of your novel, or to submit one writing query. If you're new to parenting, take some time to figure out what you can easily work into your daily schedule, and start with just that. Chances are, as your child gets older and requires a different kind of attention, you'll be able to increase your productivity.

If you find it useful, you can also set a timer for certain activities so that you stay on track. Fifteen minutes of answering e-mail, for example, can keep it at bay while allowing you to stay focused.

* Teach your child independence.

The goal of being a parent is, of course, to send a healthy, well-rounded individual into the world, ready to face whatever challenge might arise. Start early by encouraging your child to solve problems without you immediately jumping up from your laptop. Of course, this is impractical with a crawling baby, who immediately needs to be untangled from a chair leg she's backed into, but a slightly older child can be encouraged to try to find a solution alone before you jump in to save the day.

I work on a lap desk in the same room where my 3-year-old plays, and I've learned a lot of his "crises" are actually solvable by a toddler. Diapers and requests for water aside, I try to talk him through his requests so that he does as much as he can by himself. If he's looking for a toy, for example, instead of jumping up immediately, I suggest different places he might look. If his wooden train set isn't doing what he wants it to do, I ask him if there's another technique he could try before giving up.

I've been using these techniques now for a couple years, and I've found that he's a far better problem solver. In fact, nowadays when I'm interrupted mid-thought, it's usually so that he can show off a new block configuration or a new way of making a pillow fort. In addition to helping me to make the most of my "quiet time," I believe I'm also helping him build important problem-solving skills.

* Take play breaks.

Whatever your writing goals and whatever your routine, remember to spend some time every day just being silly, having fun and sharing some time with your child. It doesn't have to be much: dancing to the radio or taking a walk to look at birds. If you make sure to incorporate some special mommy-and-me time into every day, your child is more likely to accept that sometimes, mommy just needs some quiet to write.