Saturday, February 21, 2009 at 06:06PM I wrote to Dorothy and she generously sent me her notes from her presentation at AWP, which I found nourishing and inspiring. Please check it out under Talks, Presentations, and Craft Essays. These are words to read annually, as a reminder of what matters most.
Thursday, February 19, 2009 at 08:22AM I am thinking of adding two features to the site. One would allow women writers to connect with each other for peer critiques. Another would be a list of recommended books for reading groups.
Do these two features interest you? Would you bookmark this site and return if these two features were added?
It's a bitterly cold day here in Indiana, but gorgeous. And I notice that the sunlight is moving into new portions of the house with the changing season that I'm sure is upon us. I remember reading an essay by Joan Didion in which she writes about her student days. She says that she wasn't a very good student at Berkeley because she was always more interested in the way the sunlight moved across her floor. She was always more interested in the moment-by-moment sensual details. I try to keep that in mind when I'm teaching and my students are like that.
Monday, February 16, 2009 at 06:47PM Imperative #2. Pick your habitual place to work.
According to Annie Dillard, there’s a West African proverb that goes like this: “The beginning of wisdom is to get you a roof.” Location, location, location. Pick your habitual place to work. I experience the desire to write on nearly a cellular level; it’s built into me; it’s body memory. Pick a place that when you sit down there, every part of you says, “Time to write.” Depending on my homes over the years, I have worked in basements, attics, my living room, and private studies. I require very little other than quiet and privacy. Once I begin writing, the space falls away and I live in the world of the page. Ray Carver worked in his car, to avoid the children. I have a dear poet friend, with two daughters, and she also likes to work in the car, doors locked, down by the Wabash River. She also goes to colonies and retreats. That doesn’t work for me because when I have the chance to travel and write, I want to be with my loved ones after work, if possible. Some writers are peripatetic and find they can work in cafes with all the hullabaloo of espresso machines and people chattering. Another woman writer I know rents a tiny office space not far from her home. A poet I know has a little hut in the woods behind his house. Whatever works. Get you a roof. Furnish it with what you need, but only what you need. Annie Dillard suggests that your workspace not be too appealing. You know yourself. If you’re tempted to play with the cat, you will not want your cat around.
Ask yourself: Am I comfortable with my writing space? If not, how can you make at least one small change in that space today?
Sunday, February 15, 2009 at 02:54PM This May 29-30-31, poet Dana Roeser and I will teach a post-MFA workshop in Nashville, Indiana. Nashville is a sweet arts town. There's a little kitsch, but also many serious artists and craftspeople. It's not far from Brown County State Park. In fact, if you can't afford housing at The Artists Colony Inn, where we will meet, Brown County State Park has rustic cabins.
Editor Ted Solotaroff wrote an essay years ago entitled "Writing in the Cold." Ted asks the question: What happens to all that talent we see in MFA programs, after graduation? He writes about the need for endurance as you struggle to "write in the cold," that is, the deep-freeze solitude following the intense experience of community while in a graduate program. This weekend workshop, summer 2009, is for serious writers who need to re-connect with other writers and kick-start their writing practices.
For more information, go to our website.
www.therighttrackforwriters.com
Saturday, February 14, 2009 at 11:12PM I'm back and trying to make sense of it all.
Dorothy Allison brought women to their feet today when she told us to stop being competitive about writing and realize that we are in conversation with each other, through our writing. I'm paraphrasing and can't convey Dorothy's fire in the belly with this paraphrase, but it was deeply moving.
Another thought: Leonard Robinson once said to me: "After you know writers, everyone else is a stranger." I thought of this often in the last few days, being among my tribe in Chicago.
Soon I'll be posting more imperatives.