19 Monday Dec 2016
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In October, I was invited to read at Corkscrew Wine Bar in Petaluma through Get Lit’s reading series. The event, also featuring Dani Burlison and Jacqueline Doyle, included an open mike after the initial readings. Here are a few pictures from the event.
Posted by meganrturner | Filed under Literary Readings, Writing Practices
27 Monday Oct 2014
Posted in Publishing, Travel, Writing Practices
This weekend, I once again found myself writing on a train. My first blog entry on train travel described the cathartic process of writing in response to travel. This entry discussed the space one can create by getting out of town and clearing one’s mind. This weekend, however, the process was an altogether different one, as I was writing under deadline in preparation for the latest issue of AMRI.
Part of me believes that the traveling process will always spark new ideas. Yet, under deadline, one often fails to have this same transformative experience. As I write this blog entry, I am now looking out the train window for first time on my trip. I see the leaves have begun to change. The sun is shining onto my computer screen, yet I am squinting, managing to write still.
I suppose I am discussing the process of production here—and how it might interfere with the need for reflection. Sometimes one requires travel in order to write well, and sometimes one just needs to write. On this trip, I found myself slightly stressed, attempting to finish my work in time for my visit to Amherst, Massachusetts. More than that, I worried my work would not be perfect. Each time I write a review, article, or blog entry, I read it out loud afterwards. Then, I save and close my document, set it aside, and review it a few days later. If it’s a novel or longer piece, I might even set the work aside for a few weeks or a month. This was clearly not an option this weekend. I found myself having to turn in work that had not been given the proper resting time.
In a way this dilemma gets to the very question of writing for art versus writing for commercial value. I used to believe that writing every day would ruin my process. I believed that I needed time to reflect on what I was writing. While I still believe this to be true (the mind certainly needs a break at times), I also believe a writer needs to be capable of producing under strict deadline. If a writer cannot do this, she cannot fully consider herself a professional.
As I am pulling into another station on the Northeast Regional line from Amherst to New York, I wonder how my experience would have been different this weekend had I not been writing under deadline. Would I have enjoyed the ride more? Would I have been in less of a rush to produce a thoughtful review? Perhaps . . . but on the other hand, I can reassure myself with one simple thought: Sometimes a writer just needs to get it done.
There are moments to enjoy the view. Other times, one just needs to write.
25 Sunday May 2014
Posted in Fiction Writing, MFA Writing, Publishing, Writing Practices
One of my short stories, “Backyard Dogs,” was published in Atticus Review this February. Below I discuss the process of writing, rewriting, and finally publishing this story.
I first wrote “Backyard Dogs” the year before I started my MFA writing program at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. Originally, the story was about a pack of rabid dogs that mysteriously appeared in a brother and sister’s backyard. I liked the story and, as a result, took it to workshop in my very first semester of graduate school. After one slightly eccentric classmate read her letter of praise out loud, the rest of the class proceeded to tear the story apart. It was sentimental, they said. The writing was imprecise. It was not, in short, up to par.
Feeling discouraged, I scrapped the story and decided to develop a new writing process. From that point on, I began experimenting with a style that was tight and carefully constructed. Coming from a journalism background, I had always written in a short, concise manner, but after writing fiction for the past few years, my prose had become sloppy. I worked on honing the skills I already had in order to create a more solid draft.
A few workshops later, I turned in the second version of “Backyard Dogs.” I had rewritten the entire piece. I am not sure the initial draft was a failing one, but that first workshop encouraged me to write something new. The second draft was about a young girl who was allergic to almost everything. Somehow, despite (or perhaps because of) her misfortune, the character is ultimately able to connect with a homeless man who sleeps in her backyard.
Although this draft was not at all like the first, perhaps a few elements remained. I had eliminated the dogs entirely, yet I kept the title from the first draft. Perhaps the tone, too—the sense of isolation and poverty—also transferred over to the second story. This draft, like the first, had a clear sense of space. When I imagined the girl’s backyard, I had a strong picture in my mind of what it looked like.
Like many of the characters I have created, the girl in “Backyard Dogs” is a fusion of people I have met over the years. For example, I once taught a girl who was allergic to nearly everything, including the sun. She couldn’t take pottery classes. She had to work in a particular room in the building and often ate lunch alone. One day, I watched this girl during a fire drill. She was standing in the shadow, her head and entire body wrapped in a special, hypoallergenic cloth. The girl in “Backyard Dogs” has a different personality, yet I was able to use this real-life student as inspiration for this character.
After a few more drafts, “Backyard Dogs” was beginning to take its final form. I ultimately included it in my MFA thesis. It was perhaps the most experimental of the stories I had written during my three-year program. It was also one of the most pressing ones.
This year, it was finally accepted and published in Atticus Review’s “Trespassing Issue.” It took several years and many drafts, but I am now very proud of this work and feel fortunate to have seen it develop over time. I share this story in order to demonstrate the long, often indirect route to publication. Sometimes it takes several years for a story to mature, and that is okay. The first draft of “Backyard Dogs” was not at all like the final one, but without this first draft, I would not have arrived at the short story available today.
You can read “Backyard Dogs” via the link below:
15 Friday Nov 2013
Posted in Fiction Writing, Writing Practices
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Finding the correct title for a story is often one of the most difficult aspects of writing. Sometimes the title comes easily. Often, however, I spend an inordinate amount of time searching for the correct phrase or line that truly encompasses all the themes and ideas of a particular piece. This is hard work. There is so much investment in finding the right title that I often feel I am falling short. Instead, I end up with a long list of very bad titles.
Some my favorite short story titles come from the text itself. Titles such as these come from a particularly poetic or apt phrase, often repeated throughout the text or found at a key moment. It is harder than one might imagine to find this key phrase and recognize its potential. Still, if it is there, the phrase can often jump off the page, quickly becoming apparent.
The problem comes when the perfect phrase is not evident in the story. Then, one needs to spend time thinking about what the story really means and how best to capture these ideas in one line. Sometimes this sort of mental work is necessary. It can lead to important breakthroughs, clearing up confusion within the piece itself. It can also help one rework a certain scene. Still, sometimes the correct title for the piece just isn’t there.
The novel I am currently working on is still untitled. I have a list of at least ten possibilities, all of which are related to themes and events within the story and the protagonist’s name. Somehow none of the combinations seem to work. Although I am sure I will find the correct title for this novel eventually, this process is a continually trying one for me. I have spoken to some of my poet friends, who must, of course, write titles for their pieces constantly. Perhaps this process is easier for the poet, as their main focus is the line. The correct title is essential to a poem and can make or break the piece. Although I might one day find inspiration from these poets, usually I am just grateful not to be one of them.
I often think about some of the world’s most famous writers and their titles: A Tale of Two Cities, The Grapes of Wrath, Waiting for Godot. I wonder if these works would have been just as successful if they had been given another name. For example, Jess Walter’s Beautiful Ruins was originally titled The Hotel Adequate View, which just doesn’t encompass the strength the piece, as it is a large and sweeping novel.
Still, some of the best titles are simple ones. Great Expectations and Sense and Sensibility, for example, are not very detailed or complicated in nature. Yet, perhaps a simple title will often do.
I expect most writers struggle with titles from time to time, and a good friend or fellow writer can often advise against bad choices. Sometimes the best solution, I think, is to just pick a title and move on with the work. Even if the future holds a better title, at least, good writing can carry the piece until then.
13 Friday Sep 2013
Posted in Writing Practices
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There are many writer “truisms” in the world, and one particularly bothersome one relates to writing schedules. I’ve often heard others writers suggest that to be a truly successful author, one must write everyday. Of course, I’ve heard stories of dedicated writers getting up at 6:00 every morning and writing without a break until noon. Others suggest that they become physically ill if they do not get in their daily dose of writing.
While it is great when more experienced writers offer up free advice to their budding artist friends, I believe trying to create an overarching practice for all writers is a mistake. I’ve heard this topic come up at multiple writing conferences. The young or new writer raises his hand and says, “Do I really have to write everyday?” In some cases the writer, teacher, or editor answers the question in a vague sort of way, but sometimes the presenter begins discussing her own schedule in great detail, urging the conscientious writer to follow along and take notes.
Of course, one’s writing schedule is not always a matter of choice. I am not a morning writer and work best in the evening, although my job and other factors dictate this schedule. If I didn’t have the time to write in the evening, I might switch to an early afternoon practice. Or, perhaps I would try doing all my writing over the weekend. There is no perfect schedule, no right or wrong; there is only what works best for that individual.
While it is usually a good idea to create some sort of schedule or regular practice, it important to really trust oneself in this matter. Some writers might truly need to write every morning to feel at ease. Others might not need a schedule at all and might pace themselves according to a general page count or goal for that week. In my own practice, I try to allow for flexibility. For example, I sometimes incorporate alternate writing days into my schedule. If I end up not being able to write on Tuesday, for example, I might write on Wednesday instead.
I am also the sort of writer who is always plotting story ideas in my head. I often think it would be senseless for me to write everyday, as I need breaks to process and let my writing breathe. I have found this to be an effective practice for myself, although I would never force this same practice on another writer.
Like most, I do feel a pang in my stomach when I miss a writing day, and for this reason I try to be consistent, and, yes, I do write very often. But, I believe if one truly wants to write, one will make time for it. I certainly do. My schedule changes frequently and unexpected glitches come up. In these cases, I adjust my writing schedule accordingly. When it comes down to it, I always find time for my work. Even if I do so a little begrudgingly, I end up at the computer somehow, and I expect that most writers will do the same.
A desk and computer (or pen and paper) are all one really needs.
