MFA Nugget: Creativity and Wasting Time

MONTPELIER, VERMONT: The title of the New Year’s Eve lecture here at my Vermont College of Fine Arts MFA residency was “The Importance of Wasting Time,” but for this attendee it could have been titled “Everything The Artist’s Road Blog is About.” VCFA instructors Connie May Fowler and Patrick Madden engaged both a physical audience and one on Facebook in an extended exploration of honoring one’s muse, allowing one to embrace idle moments, and engaging one’s subconscious.

The captivating Connie May Fowler

I’m going to depart in format from my previous MFA Nugget posts and adopt bullet points to pass on the session’s highlights, and I encourage you to visit the Facebook event established for this lecture:

• Idleness breeds creativity: “It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top,” Virginia Woolf tells us. Connie–an accomplished novelist (I loved How Clarissa Burden Learned to Fly) and memoirist (When Katie Wakes is stunning)–quoted Woolf and other creatives to emphasize that creative sparks need space to breathe. We simply can’t chain ourselves to our keyboard or camera or easel and expect greatness.
• Those creative sparks can be further ignited: Connie said she loved Einstein, for having done great things and for having great hair, but also for allowing his subconscious to work out problems. The great physicist would listen to Mozart, she said, posing the question and awaiting the answer. “The solutions often come to you if you’re open to them,” Connie said. Regular readers of this blog will no doubt know that I smiled at this, because while I didn’t realize I was modeling the developer of the Theory of Relativity, I have written here about a technique for allowing the subconscious to solve your writing problems while you sleep.
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  The not-so-quotidian Patrick Madden

  Embrace idle moments: Those moments can come in the shower or while driving to work, Patrick said. Patrick–an accomplished personal essayist who in his collection Quotidiana won me over when expressing the creative spark he received from Rush’s “Tom Sawyer”–said Gabriel Garcia Marquez conceived of the method he would use in writing One Hundred Years of Solitude while trapped behind the wheel of his Opel on a family vacation. (I love that Patrick is into Rush but disappointed when he shared that he didn’t know Opel was a make of car; I wonder if he knows that my favorite Rush song, “Red Barchetta,” details a specific model of car, a sexy Fiat?)

• Let the idea grow: “Creativity really does need an incubation time,” Connie said, noting that while Edward P. Jones wrote The Known World in thirty days, the novel had been simmering in the back of his mind for a decade. That matches with one of the first Artist’s Road blog posts–”Allowing Ideas to Percolate“–which features a video interview from my cross-country U.S. road trip of Vermont printmaker Sabra Field discussing her series “Cosmic Geometry” as resulting from more than fifty years of observation of nature and manufactured forms.

The lecture was entertaining and informative, and the Facebook chat surprisingly engaging, considering all of us participating in it were also trying to listen to Connie and Patrick. I particularly liked it when one of the students on the event wall asked if he would be wasting time if he used the lecture session to write poetry, Patrick (in the midst of the lecture, mind you) posted the response: “You’d be too productive for our purposes!”

ABOUT THIS SERIES: As promised, I am posting occasional “nuggets” of wisdom I am acquiring here at my second residency in the MFA for Writing program at the Vermont College of Fine Arts. Previous posts include “Illuminating Your Story” and “A Window on Your Narrator.”

MFA Nugget: Illuminating your Story

MONTPELIER, VERMONT: “The job of a fiction writer is to illuminate what is written.” That pearl of wisdom from the late Grace Paley was shared with us here at the Vermont College of Fine Arts by VCFA instructor Richard McCann.

At his interactive lecture, a few dozen of us students broke down a two-page short story by the late Ms. Paley titled “Mother.” (You can read it online here.) We could easily have spent another four hours analyzing this very short work, and that was part of McCann’s point; that the writer has an obligation to “illuminate what is written”by maximizing word choice.

The obit in The New York Times for Grace Paley tells us she was a “celebrated writer and social activist whose short stories explored in precise, pungent and tragicomic style the struggles of ordinary women muddling through everyday lives.” To McCann she was even more, a personal inspiration he was fortunate enough to know through VCFA, and whose presentation at a writer’s conference in the mid-1980s before he knew her helped inspired him, a poet, to pursue prose. (McCann is now a polymath, a master of poetry, fiction, and memoir; I found particularly moving his recent memoir Mother of Sorrows.)

VCFA Instructor Richard McCann

We don’t need a lot of words to tell a lot of story. In a mere 420 words Paley covers three first-person incidents in her past, then back story, then another scene, and throughout builds on the metaphor of a doorway to convey a complex set of emotions surrounding the death of the narrator’s mother. It would take me more than 420 words in this blog post to explain this masterful construction.

I can’t capture the magic that occurred in the room as McCann guided us–well, allowed us to find our way–through the many layers of metaphor and imagery Paley evoked in this short piece. But perhaps I can convey it by passing on a line that McCann heard Paley say at that fateful conference a quarter-century ago. Paley announced to the crowd that she had been invited there to speak on the art of revision. After some quiet, Paley said: “Look at the first word. Ask, ‘Is that true?’ Then go to the next word and do the same thing.”

UPDATE: Thank you to filmmaker Sonya Friedman for directing my attention to a documentary on Grace Paley she produced and co-directed. You can learn more here.

ABOUT THIS SERIES: As promised, I am posting occasional “nuggets” of wisdom I am acquiring here at my second residency in the MFA for Writing program at the Vermont College of Fine Arts. My goal is to have us learn together!

MFA Nugget: A Window on Your Narrator

MONTPELIER, VERMONT: “Literary writers embrace exterior details to convey our interiority.” So said Sue William Silverman in the opening lecture of my latest MFA residency here with the Vermont College of Fine Arts. The award-winning Silverman–author of Love Sick: One Woman’s Journey through Sexual Addiction, Because I Remember Terror, Father, I Remember You, and Fearless Confessions: A Writer’s Guide to Memoir–walked a packed room in the ornate College Hall Chapel through the use of windows in painting, poetry and prose. From Vermeer to Joyce, she emphasized the unique role a window can play as a tool for storytelling and metaphor.

The incomparable Sue William Silverman of the Vermont College of Fine Arts.

A window allows the narrator to see a broader world–a world she longs for, or fears, or even simply imagines–but by choosing which details the narrator sees through that window, we as readers gain insight onto the character herself. Don’t just list whatever may be outside the window, Silverman said: “Slant the details to invoke the narrator’s interior.”

Much is said of the symbolism of a door, but she said unlike a window, a door suggests the possibility of escape, and of course can be solid, not allowing a new perspective. A window also is reflective, allowing the author to contrast the outside and inside, the world beyond and the narrator’s own reflection. So if you find yourself struggling to properly convey the interior of your narrator, she said–whether in poetry, fiction or creative nonfiction–”give him or her a window.”

ABOUT THIS SERIES: As promised, I am posting occasional “nuggets” of wisdom I am acquiring here at my second residency in the MFA for Writing program at the Vermont College of Fine Arts. My goal is to have you here with me for the next ten days!

A Sneak Peek at Coming Attractions

I’m off to Montpelier, Vermont, tomorrow morning for my latest MFA in Writing residency, and I want to commit to you, via this post, that I will be posting highlights I pick up from lectures and readings in (semi) real time from the residency. I can’t promise a post a day, but I aim to pull that off. They’ll be nice and short, just a nugget of wisdom I jotted down in the shiny new composition book I bought for the residency.

Is my composition book too girly? I liked the magnetic flap, wide-ruled paper, and the hard casing, but it's a bit fussy, methinks.

Some possible topics (i.e., titles of some lectures I intend to attend):

• The Importance of Wasting Time
• The First Step off the Cliff is the Most Dangerous (openings)
• The Art of Dialogue
• In Defense of Excessive Detail and Sentimental Disclosures
• Using Your Ears: The Mysteries of Music in Writing
• Why Am I Laughing at This? The Grotesque and Black Humor
• Out Loud: The Relationship Between the Written and the Spoken Word
• One Writer’s Search for Structure, or It Looks Like a Mosaic to Me

Now to start packing for my two weeks away; nothing like waiting until the last minute.

Congrats, You’ve Won a Top Blog Award!

The Artist’s Road is nothing without its readers, who spark fascinating conversation in the comments and share posts with their friends. So with The Artist’s Road now an award-winning blog, you are the winners.

This morning the authoritative blog Write to Done named The Artist’s Road a Top 10 Blog for Writers for 2011-2012. Chief Editor Mary Jaksch certainly had her hands full, with more than 2,000 comments submitted in her call for nominations, and an impressive array of top 20 finalists.

A sign I encountered in Cape May County, New Jersey, on my cross-country U.S. road trip. It's telling me to slow down and not make turtle soup. That trip itself told me to reassess my life.

I’ll confess to some surprise at winning the award. It is true that I am a writer, and that as many writers do, I write a lot about writing. We’re navel-gazers that way. But as readers know, the focus of this blog is broader than that. In one respect it chronicles my return to writing, but more broadly it chronicles the commitments and sacrifices involved in living an art-committed life. Thus the name The Artist’s Road, not The Writer’s Road.

This blog plays a critical role in helping me move forward now that I’ve found my way back onto that road. Each post is an announcement to the universe that I’m sticking with it, for a few more days at least. So you could say The Artist’s Road is, at its core, a phenomenally selfish indulgence on my part.

But I do enjoy sharing what I learn along the way. That could be wisdom from the many creatives I interviewed on my cross-country U.S. road trip, the experience that sparked the launch of this blog in the fall of 2010 and that helps explain the blog’s title. It could be insights from my instructors in my MFA in Creative Writing program, including the post about recommended reading this summer that was promoted on The Huffington Post. It could be sharing highlights from conferences I attend, such as the AWP, the Poynter Institute, or the Creativity in Business conference. Or it could be a moment of personal discovery, from organizing my thoughts to juggling work and family.

Another crossing sign I saw in south Jersey. Like those baby ducks, I'm walking as I try to learn to fly.

I will also confess to experiencing discouragement at times with this blog. It requires time. It requires creative energy. But that is true of any aspect of living an art-committed life. And so by continuing to honor my commitment to this blog and its readers, I can continue to commit to my artist’s road.

I leave in a few days for Montpelier, Vermont, for my next MFA residency. I can’t say how much I’ll be blogging between now and my return. But I promise you I’ll pass along whatever I learn to you, whether it is about writing, creativity, or simply being present. In the meantime, congratulations on your role in an award-winning blog!

When a Novel’s Narrator Comes Alive

Quick. When I ask you to name a novel where the first-person narrator leaps off the page, what comes to mind?

Now skip to the bottom of this post and type it into the comments.

A mannequin wearing nothing but wood shavings I saw in a store window when I was in Montpelier, Vermont, for my last MFA residency. I'd love to read the story of a woman who wore that outfit.

Ah, you’re back. Good! Thank you for helping me formulate a reading list for the next semester in my MFA program. As regular readers know, I’m pursuing a Master’s degree in Creative Nonfiction. Last semester I thoroughly enjoyed my list, which included collections of great personal essays, award-winning travel literature, and a few other selections.

But those books were all nonfiction. I want to add some novels in this go-around. In particular, I’m hoping to learn more about telling a story in the first person.

The first novel that came to my mind was Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, and this opening:

“You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain’t no matter. That book was made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly.”

Thanks, Huck; that’s what we try to do in creative nonfiction, tell the truth, mainly.

It wasn’t just “literature” that came to mind, however. About 20 years ago I was addicted to Robert B. Parker novels; in fact, Spenser was so real to me that I never watched the TV show Spenser for Hire because I didn’t want to spoil the world Parker had created in my own mind. If you’ve ever read a Spenser book, you know how critical the narrator’s voice is to the lasting appeal of that series.

I head off to Montpelier, Vermont, a week from tomorrow, and a few days after that I’ll be paired with my semester advisor. What novels should I tell that advisor I’d like to read?

Creativity Tweets of the Week — 12/16/11

Running out of holiday gift ideas for loved ones? Why not give them a year’s subscription to The Artist’s Road? It’s chock-full of resources for the creative-minded, and it’s part of a complete breakfast. Oh, and did I mention it’s free? Now on to this week’s links on creativity and writing I sent out this week on Twitter and Facebook.

CREATIVITY

• “Does Your Job Help or Hinder Your Creativity?” Carrie Brummer, Artist Think: I came across my friend Carrie’s insightful post this week simultaneous with my decision to seek full-time work. Anyone want to hire a creativity geek? I’m housebroken and don’t bite.
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  What job skills would I bring to your place of employment? Well, I make a pretty decent Crustacean Christmas tree...

  “Why People Secretly Fear Creative Ideas,” Jeremy Dean, PsyBlog: My take? Anyone who has ever suffered through an unproductive meeting knows not everyone fearful of creativity keeps that secret with much success.

• “Nine Stubborn Brain Myths that Just Won’t Die, Debunked by Science,” Brian Hacks, Lifehacker: How dismaying to see a favorite topic of mine, the left brain/right brain debate, listed as the #1 myth.

WRITING

• “Caring About Being Published: Why It’s Important,” Cindy Huff, guest post on Write it Sideways: The title says exactly what this hard-hitting post is all about.
• “Self-Publishing and the Definition of an Indie Author,” Joanna Penn, The Creative Penn: My takeaway is that to Joanna, a true “indie” author is pursuing a particular professional path, not a path simply of ego expression.
• “Critically Acclaimed Writers Who Never Win Prizes,” Emily Temple, FlavorWire: If you’re down, compare yourself favorably to Nabokov or Borges.
• “What Can Maurice Sendak Teach You About Writing?” John Magnet Bell, Start Your Novel: Tell stories like you did when you were a kid.
• “Book Writing Tips that Work,” Jeff Goins: Advice on how to stay on task.

Happy holidays, fellow creativity geeks!

Is Journaling a Cure for Creative Blocks?

Do you journal?

Many creatives do, particularly creative writers. Several best-selling books on breaking through writer’s block and unlocking your muse advise daily writings in a personal journal. The process, we’re told, clears mental cobwebs, sparks ideas, and empowers the writer to overcome the fear of the blank page. Talk to any evangelist for The Artist’s Way and they’ll insist it works.

My son isn't trapped behind writer's block, but rather behind ice blocks, at a holiday ice show. However will I get him out? Journaling? Of course, I could simply advise he walk around the wall, but he'll figure that out on his own.

I am an abject failure at journaling. Yet I have overcome creative blocks time and again. As I’ve reflected on how I’ve managed to do that without journaling, I’ve come to wonder something else.

Is journaling really a cause that leads to an effect? Or is it instead an indication of a certain personality type, the spontaneous creative?

Back in September I hosted an interesting conversation here at The Artist’s Road about this notion of two types of creatives: those who plan out a path before commencing with creating, and those who prefer to go in blind and follow their muse. In my rant I decried this type of categorization–arguing truly successful creatives channel a bit of both–but confessed I am more of a planning type.

I believe that is why I am incapable of journaling. I want to plan out my journal entry before writing it, which kind of defeats the entire purpose. (A confession: This morning while showering I outlined and wrote this blog post in my head, and now am serving more as a taker of dictation from my inner writer. I even decided I would include this aside at this point in the post. I’m feeling very meta right now.)

I approach creative writing with a background not as a journaler, but a journalist. The best way to meet a daily deadline as a journalist is to plot out your story in advance. But you also need to be a good listener, to know when the story you planned to write takes an odd turn. That is my creative process for writing: outline my approach, start writing with relative ease because I’ve already mapped out a path, but stay attuned to the possibility of going off that grid.

I love The Artist’s Way; the title of this blog is an homage to the book. But when I first read it in the early 1990s it frustrated me, largely because I simply couldn’t connect with the exercises, in particular the journaling. When I started down this new path to an art-committed life late last year, I dug out my old copy–it’s telling I had held on to it all these years–and read it again. I completely skipped the exercises. What I needed from Ms. Cameron was not pedagogy, but inspiration. I found what I needed.

If you journal, and you feel it improves your creative flow, I am very happy for you. If you don’t journal, or have struggled with it, perhaps you should go easy on yourself. You’re not alone.

What is your experience with journaling? Do you think journaling is a tool for everyone, or is it rather a device that serves the types of creatives who choose to do it but isn’t a universal fit? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Crustacean Christmas Revisited

Have you ever typed “crustacean Christmas” into Google? It probably says something about the oddity of our family tradition that an Artist’s Road blog post about it is the first entry on that list. Today I’ll provide a sequel post, but first some quick background.

It started with a Christmas tree ornament my wife purchased many years ago when she lived in Baltimore–a wooden, red crab with a bow. It escalated when I took my wife and kids through one of those holiday light display park exhibits, and we saw a 10-foot-tall Christmas crab. The final kick likely was my wife’s family tradition–learned during her childhood growing up on a New Jersey beach–of cooking shellfish for Christmas Eve dinner.

In 2008 I bought a 4′x8′ sheet of plywood and a can of red spray paint, fired up the power saw, and this was the result:

A tradition was born. In 2009 we decided to take it up a notch. Why settle for just one crustacean? Why not three? In the end, a biologist would say we ended up with two crustaceans and a mollusk, but nonetheless–after a lot of painting by the four of us in a cold garage–we debuted for our perplexed neighbors the Crustacean Choir:

Now we were on to something. Obviously 2010 would have to be even more ambitious. What if, I said, we didn’t need a spotlight to illuminate this year’s display? What if we used hundreds of Christmas lights, around and in the display? What would that be? Naturally, we came up with a Christmas tree. We’d use as ornaments our crab, lobster, shrimp, and clam. It was relatively simple to cut out, and while there was a lot of painting to do, I set up the saw horses in our living room this time, allowing us to paint in welcome warmth. Here it is in the daylight:

And here it is at night:

This fall I came up with an idea to top the last three years combined. For one, I decided to introduce two new characters. Second, it would be even bigger than before, using two 4′x8′ boards, with each character having his own board. It would actually tell a story. And the antagonist would be a character familiar to readers of The Artist’s Road (although phenomenally unfamiliar to my neighbors). Here’s the sketch I drew a couple of weeks ago:

This would require a lot of work. Sketching on the plywood, cutting it out, painting all of the sections of Mr. Bacon and Mr. Scallop. And all the while I wondered if people would get the premise–that the scallop was about to be bacon-wrapped–or if they would get that and then say “But what does that have to do with Christmas?”

Of course, any reader of this blog knows I don’t usually worry about what others think when I go off on a creative tangent. But the time our family has together during the holidays does stay front of mind. And this would require a lot of time. Time spent together as a family, yes. But time that could be spent in other ways.

Last week I pushed the bright orange cart into the lumber aisle at Home Depot. I picked out the right plywood (I learned that you need at least 5/8″ in thickness; the Christmas Crab was only 1/4″, and as the temperature rose and fall he warped, looking like he was trying to curl himself into a crepe). I’d ring this up, take it home on top of my unhappy car, then head to the craft store for new paint. I walked myself through this set of activities. Then I left the orange cart in the aisle and walked back to my car.

It’s important to spend time with loved ones. And family traditions matter. But at what point does a tradition become labor?

We scaled down our Thanksgiving feast this year, with me grilling dry-rubbed game hens instead of roasting a turkey. That freed up more time for us to be together as a family, and also provided a tastier bird than the vanilla ice cream of poultry. Perhaps I could extend that concept to Christmas. After all, our children are teenagers now. Soon enough they might have other plans during the holidays.

Tomorrow was the day I was going to cut out Mr. Bacon and Mr. Scallop. Sunday was the day allotted for family painting. Now I don’t have to figure out how to fit both planks of plywood in our living room for a toasty painting party. Instead, we are going Saturday to Mount Vernon, to spend a few hours seeing what George Washington’s Christmas would have been like if he had erected twelve Christmas trees (presumably none of them cherry trees). Tomorrow we’ll put up our own tree, and the only labor I’ll do beyond that is making some chocolate cocoa in a saucepan.

I’m sure my neighbors will be disappointed that we’ve chosen this year to go with a more tasteful Christmas display. But as we gather Sunday evening by our decorated tree–my son stoking a fire in the fireplace, my daughter trying to capture a sparking flame with her camera, my wife and I taking in the scene with marshmallow-and-cocoa mustaches–I don’t anticipate any regrets.

Showing AND Telling

“Show, don’t tell.” Is there a fiction writer out there who isn’t sick of hearing that command? Consider this: when telling your own story, you must show and tell.

While on my cross-country road trip interviewing artists, I ate a loaded hot dog at Packo's in Toledo, Ohio. The restaurant's window display shows the cast of M*A*S*H eating Packo's cuisine, while telling how Corporal Klinger's longing for the restaurant was mentioned on the show seven times.

This was the lesson shared recently by two masters of the personal essay–Keith Woods and Lonnae O’Neal Parker–at the “Write Your Heart Out” conference sponsored by the Poynter Institute at Georgetown University. But the lesson applies to fiction writers as well, whether you’re crafting a query letter for an agent, a bio for your book’s dust jacket, or the opening remarks at your first book reading. Mastering this art can also improve your fiction.

What does it mean to both show and tell? This is my personal take, but you could say it’s really no different from the “show and tell” we all remember from grade school. You have to show what you’re presenting–pass it around the classroom, letting your classmates touch it, smell it and, for that weird kid who eats paste, taste it–while also telling why you’ve chosen to share it.

Here are some key takeaways from the Poynter session:

• Connect readers with the sensual: O’Neal Parker said this is no different than writing quality fiction–use all of the senses and allow the reader to feel the scene with you.
• Connect readers with yourself: This is a critical step, O’Neal Parker said. “I find a place for me” in that scene, she said, and after the reader has experienced the tactile, she shares what it means to her. When done well, the reader will connect, even to feelings or scenes different from his or her own experience. “Can I find my story in yours?” is what the reader is asking, Woods said.
• Connect readers sparingly: The selection of details should both connect with the narrator’s “telling” of his or her state of mind, and the best way to do this is to reveal just enough show and tell. This allows the reader to find the true meaning on his or her own. “Have your details point to what readers need to know,” Woods said. “Don’t overload with detail,” O”Neal Parker added.
• Connect readers after retelling: The most successful personal narratives, Woods said, come from repeated tellings before writing. “I’ve told the story many times before I write it,” Woods said. It doesn’t have to be oral storytelling predating the writing. “I’ve already thought about the story a lot. I’ve written it in my head,” said O’Neal Parker.

When fiction writers are told to show, not tell, implied in that is that there must be some telling. After all, it’s called storytelling, not storyshowing. But writing a personal essay is a great exercise in finding balance in showing and telling, a balance that can easily be exported to one’s fiction writing.

How do you utilize both showing and telling in your creative endeavors?

NOTE TO READERS: A big thanks to Jon M of @ThinDifference for nominating The Artist’s Road as a top-10 blog for writers in the Write to Done annual contest. I was aware of the contest but hadn’t considered competing, and a review of those nominated to date suggests there are plenty of deserving candidates. That review also makes clear many of these sites are encouraging votes; quick bursts of nominations for one blog coincide with tweets and Facebook posts and other outreach from those bloggers. So I might as well play along too, right? I’d love for you to head over there and add The Artist’s Road as a nominee, and please let me know you’ve done so. I will be eternally grateful, although I can’t promise that gratitude will lead to any financial remuneration. The deadline to submit is December 10th.