Saints and Sinners I - A Voice of My Own
My voice is returning (though I've still got more Barry White than Betty White going on in my vocal range) and the coughing has started to recede as much as my hair, so I'm going to try a drive-by posting about Saints and Sinners.
Of the many things that Shawn Syms mentioned in the Xtra! article is how I walk out of Saints and Sinners every year with a completely restored faith in the queer literary community - and my potential place within it.
I'm sure I'll revisit the Saints and Sinners experience more than a few times over the next week, but as thoughts occur that I hope are of interest, I'd like to pass them along.
First off, if you ever get the chance to hear Michael Nava talk, go. He spoke about his experiences and processes in writing a novel, and was so incredibly generous with his talent and skill that I walked out of the room thinking, I might be able to do this.
He mentioned a quote, Doris Lessing I believe: What does it matter if you fail? Why be so arrogant? Just begin.
I learned that my - ahem - scatter-shot approach to writing isn't unusual. Introduce your novel with a scene, or a character? Point of view was also discussed, and I felt happier about my recent decision to re-do what I'd already done in first person when the affable Nava mentioned that you can still have a larger range of information given to the reader with a very perceptive first-person character. I figure psychic fits the bill there.
There was also a strong discussion of dialog - my favorite - where Nava really hit the nail on the head about what is awesome (and not so awesome) in the world of dialog. Knowing the character, and the lovely balancing act between verisimilitude and forwarding the narrative. It's crucial, but not real life speech. And yet the reader has to not notice that it's not like real life speech.
The characterization discussion had me so involved I barely took notes (good sign for the class, bad sign for my memory) but I did end up flipping my notebook to the back and scribbling two pages of revelations about two of my characters that I didn't want to forget.
Revision was another popular topic, and again the sheer volume of variation among writers was a comfort, though the "five point" review process seemed like a fantastic place to start.
1. First draft. Just get it done. Don't worry about whether or not it's good, or nonsensical, just leave notes for yourself where you need to flesh bits out.
2. Walk away. Let it percolate. Maybe make a short story or work on another short piece between it. (I think this piece of advice is also something I read in something Stephen King wrote about writing.)
3. Come back. Read it twice. Once very quickly, just to see how the narrative plays out and see if you enjoy the result or succeeded at what you were going for. Second reading is when you bring out the red pen. Cut, slash, add, fill in all those "notes" you left yourself.
4. Type up the new version. This is the second draft. Break out the thesaurus where you've used a word till it snapped. Check the dialog, see if you can focus and sharpen the story, cut out unnecessary exposition, and develop your characters.
5. Then you've got the third "polished" draft to play with. Read the prose. Read the pacing. Hand it out to the people who love you enough to say "wow, this part made me stumble completely, and I have no idea what you mean." Listen to the criticism behind the statements, and see what you can draw from it - don't blindly change everything everyone mentions, but find the seed of the real issue.
All this from just the first class. See what I mean about feeling focused and reinvigorated?
This, folks, is why y'all want to go to New Orleans and sign up for next year's Saints and Sinners festival.
More later, after two days of working on The Novel(TM). 'Cause I'm not that arrogant.
Of the many things that Shawn Syms mentioned in the Xtra! article is how I walk out of Saints and Sinners every year with a completely restored faith in the queer literary community - and my potential place within it.
I'm sure I'll revisit the Saints and Sinners experience more than a few times over the next week, but as thoughts occur that I hope are of interest, I'd like to pass them along.
First off, if you ever get the chance to hear Michael Nava talk, go. He spoke about his experiences and processes in writing a novel, and was so incredibly generous with his talent and skill that I walked out of the room thinking, I might be able to do this.
He mentioned a quote, Doris Lessing I believe: What does it matter if you fail? Why be so arrogant? Just begin.
I learned that my - ahem - scatter-shot approach to writing isn't unusual. Introduce your novel with a scene, or a character? Point of view was also discussed, and I felt happier about my recent decision to re-do what I'd already done in first person when the affable Nava mentioned that you can still have a larger range of information given to the reader with a very perceptive first-person character. I figure psychic fits the bill there.
There was also a strong discussion of dialog - my favorite - where Nava really hit the nail on the head about what is awesome (and not so awesome) in the world of dialog. Knowing the character, and the lovely balancing act between verisimilitude and forwarding the narrative. It's crucial, but not real life speech. And yet the reader has to not notice that it's not like real life speech.
The characterization discussion had me so involved I barely took notes (good sign for the class, bad sign for my memory) but I did end up flipping my notebook to the back and scribbling two pages of revelations about two of my characters that I didn't want to forget.
Revision was another popular topic, and again the sheer volume of variation among writers was a comfort, though the "five point" review process seemed like a fantastic place to start.
1. First draft. Just get it done. Don't worry about whether or not it's good, or nonsensical, just leave notes for yourself where you need to flesh bits out.
2. Walk away. Let it percolate. Maybe make a short story or work on another short piece between it. (I think this piece of advice is also something I read in something Stephen King wrote about writing.)
3. Come back. Read it twice. Once very quickly, just to see how the narrative plays out and see if you enjoy the result or succeeded at what you were going for. Second reading is when you bring out the red pen. Cut, slash, add, fill in all those "notes" you left yourself.
4. Type up the new version. This is the second draft. Break out the thesaurus where you've used a word till it snapped. Check the dialog, see if you can focus and sharpen the story, cut out unnecessary exposition, and develop your characters.
5. Then you've got the third "polished" draft to play with. Read the prose. Read the pacing. Hand it out to the people who love you enough to say "wow, this part made me stumble completely, and I have no idea what you mean." Listen to the criticism behind the statements, and see what you can draw from it - don't blindly change everything everyone mentions, but find the seed of the real issue.
All this from just the first class. See what I mean about feeling focused and reinvigorated?
This, folks, is why y'all want to go to New Orleans and sign up for next year's Saints and Sinners festival.
More later, after two days of working on The Novel(TM). 'Cause I'm not that arrogant.
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