Professors and graduates of the highly acclaimed Iowa Writer's Workshop, including T. Coraghesson Boyle and Doris Grumbach, offer insightful essays on the craft of writing and on the writing life.
Frank Conroy was an American author, born in New York, New York to an American father and a Danish mother. He published five books, including the highly acclaimed memoir Stop-Time, published in 1967, which ultimately made Conroy a noted figure in the literary world. The book was nominated for the National Book Award. Conroy graduated from Haverford College, and was director of the influential Iowa Writers' Workshop at the University of Iowa for 18 years, from 1987 until 2005, where he was also F. Wendell Miller Professor. He was previously the director of the literature program at the National Endowment for the Arts from 1982–1987. Conroy's published works included: the moving memoir Stop-Time; a collection of short stories, Midair; a novel, Body and Soul, which is regarded as one of the finest evocations of the experience of being a musician; a collection of essays and commentaries, Dogs Bark, but the Caravan Rolls On: Observations Then and Now; and a travelogue, Time and Tide: A Walk Through Nantucket. His fiction and non-fiction appeared in such journals as The New Yorker, Esquire, GQ, Harper's Magazine and Partisan Review. He was named a Knight of the Order of Arts and Letters by the French government. In addition to writing, Conroy was an accomplished jazz pianist, winning a Grammy Award in 1986. His book Dogs Bark, But the Caravan Rolls On: Observations Then and Now includes articles that describe jamming with Charles Mingus and with Charlie Watts and Bill Wyman. The latter session occurred when Conroy was writing about the Rolling Stones for Esquire. Conroy had arrived at a mansion for the interview, found nobody there, and eventually sat down at a grand piano and began to play. Someone wandered in, sat down at the drums, and joined in with accomplished jazz drumming; then a fine jazz bassist joined in. They turned out to be Watts and Wyman, whom Conroy did not recognize until they introduced themselves after the session. Conroy died of colon cancer on April 6, 2005, in Iowa City, Iowa, at the age of 69.
I've always been interested in learning how and why writers write. What are their daily habits? How were they first published? When did they know that writing was something they simply had to do? The Eleventh Draft is just one story after another by writers on writing, and as such, it's probably a great resource, especially for beginning writers.
The Iowa Writers' Workshop must put a lot of emphasis on voice and attitude, because its graduates often seem to have an abundance of both. I enjoyed the first eight essays, but then I began to feel a little annoyed by what I perceived to be a tad too much arrogance and cynicism.
But maybe it's just me. And maybe so many stories on the same subject in one volume was just too much of a good thing.
I picked this book off my bookshelves just to get some inspiration -- and it not only did that, but it also offered thoughts on writing which I either share or aspire to. The surprising thing about this collection was how many of the authors I knew, but I didn't know they had attended the Iowa Writers' Workshop. No wonder it has such a stellar reputation!
I guess there is a reason why the contributors were Iowa Writers alumnae and became successful writers. All the selections include excellent writing, ranging from autobiographical pieces to instructional treatises.
This is a collection of essays on writing by writers that attended the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. The essays range from personal mediations on the writer’s own journey to become a writer, to commentary on writing programs and the politics of writing in general. The essay that resonated most for me was Chris Offutt’s because I felt a sense of kinship to how he worked and approached his craft. The most stunning seemed to be Justin Cronin’s, which was more about his father’s failure to write and his own estrangement from his father.
This was an interesting collection. The essays ranged wildly in tone and topic, which made for a nice variety. It is always interesting to me to get inside the head of other writers, to see how they differ from me and how they are the same, to maybe take away a few insights or tips that can improve my own writing processes. I could have done without the derisive comments towards genre/commercial fiction sprinkled throughout many of the essays, and in general the tone of many of them felt overly pretentious, but still it was not a bad read.
Conroy’s collection of essays from those associated with the Iowa’s Writer Workshop is absolutely insightful. The reason for the collection is to not only help people who are beginning to write, but to usher along those who’ve been writing for a while. Conroy advocates particularly for the latter, stating that beginner writers are able to still rely on mimesis in their work to try to find their voice/style. Additionally, he wants to focus on those who’ve been writing as he states that continuing to write is “a test of character as well as a test of talent, and talent is more common than character.” This sentiment seems to be echoed in one way or another throughout the rest of the collection.
Some of the advice given in the essays is common among craft books: write every day, assimilate the stories you’ve lived/been told to build something new, bake your passions/heart/mind into the lives/personalities of your characters. No doubt this is because of the phenomena pointed out by Canin’s essay, that writing is a field “in which nobody, not even the experts [know] anything.” This leads to the same conversation being held with different phrasing, all with the same attitude toward writing: “I don’t know, just practice a lot and try things out.” This leads to a focus on finding authorial voice, distinguishing yourself from the writers you’ve read, the writer you think you want to become. Phillips mentions that “Silence is the writer’s familiar […] the auditory equivalent of the empty page […]” and “Personality or intellect can bite the hands that feed it, so to speak.” This harks back to the same sentiment that nearly every writer in this collection concludes: “Don’t overthink, just write.” Power’s essay summarizes this phenomenon well: “I am an intuitive writer, absorbing technique through a constant diet of reading, not wanting to analyze too closely the mysteries of this process, afraid perhaps of finding the humbug of a little man behind the ferocious mask of Oz.”
Most of the essays focus on long-form narrative (books and novels), though some point out how the longer the book, the more likely it is to be acclaimed as it turns into a world the reader can “live in” for a while (Grumbach). This sentiment is echoed by short story theorists as well, like Kuttainen or the collection by Patea on the 21st century perspective of short story theory, even as far back as Poe. This idea of novels or memoir being superior due to their length is of particular interest. Poe argued that length of a short story was preferable, something you could digest in a single sitting, much more accessible to those without a surplus of spare time. However, I believe this is pointing out a greater hierarchy in narrative scholarship: due to the length of novels and memoir and the ability to “live in” them, they are more comfortable for the reader. Whereas with short form literature (short stories and essays), the reader is constantly being uprooted, starting over, and like any other time we dive into the new, it produces one of two emotions (or sometimes, both): anxiety or excitement. It is up to the writer to determine what to do with these instinctual reactions, often making short-form literature the perfect place to experiment with genre-blending or themes/topics that produce discomfort, anxiety. In other words, the short-form is the perfect place to be for a writer who does not want to rely on the comfort of knowing what happens next.
This is a group of essays that are written by former students and teachers of the Iowa Writer's Workshop. While some I really enjoyed, there were a few that were hard to get through and keep my interest. Being an aspiring writer myself I was hoping for more inspiration that was in here, but still worth the read. Especially since I was able to get the hard cover version for under $3.
This book, which collects essays on writing by graduates of the Iowa Writers Workshop, provides some interesting perspectives on how they approach their work. I found most of the essays interesting, and am checking out some of the writers' works.
This was a great collection of essays regarding the various writers' experiences with the writing life. I found all of their thoughts and experiences to be both interesting, insightful, and inspiring.
Inspirational and informative collection of essays on the craft of writing penned by graduates of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Each one contains a gem of wisdom I can use in my own writing.
3+ Twenty-three professors and/or one-time students of the famous Iowa Writer's Workshop were simply asked to "write about writing." The resulting diversity is a delightful read loaded with a wide variety of approaches but they all seem to agree that writing is difficult. I enjoyed discovering authors to add to my To Read shelf. I especially liked The Dead Man by Justin Cronin. Elizabeth McCracken, William Lashner, Doris Grumbach and Chris Offutt also stand out. I recommend to anyone who is a writer, whether they admit it or not. .
Wow, I've only read one book written by any of these IWW grads (Marilynne Robinson's Housekeeping which I really enjoyed). Lashner's essay stole the show with his wit, charm and genuine honesty. Robinson's essay, on the other hand, was so abstruse and over written that it was almost laughable. Conroy advises us to "listen up" but I must be deaf 'cause I didn't hear anything new. We get it! Writing is tough work! Rejection is the norm; acceptance fleeting. I would like to thank the writers who got personal and wrote about their inner demons, self doubts and frustrations. Those insights are invaluable to a beginner like me. And "lighten up" Marilynne. The light from those dead stars does have mythic significance as we stare into past, live in the present and dream of the future.