Saturday, March 25, 2006

Point of View

Choosing a point of view is a matter of finding the best place to stand, from which to tell a story. The process shouldn't be determined by theory, but driven by immersion in the material itself. The choice of point of view, I've come to think, has nothing to do with morality. It's a choice among tools. On the other hand, the wrong choice can lead to dishonesty. Point of view is primary; it affects everything else, including voice. I've made my choices by instinct sometimes and sometimes by experiment. Most of my memories of time spent writing have merged together in a blur, but I remember vividly my first attempts to find a way to write AMONG SCHOOLCHILDREN, a book about an inner-city teacher. I had spent a year inside her classroom. I intended, vaguely, to fold into my account of events I'd witnessed there a great deal about the lives of particular children and about the problems of education in America. I tried every point of view that I'd used in previous books, and every page I wrote felt lifeless and remote. Finally, I hit on a restricted third-person narration.

That approach seemed to work. The world of that classroom seemed to come alive when the view of it was restricted mainly to observations of the teacher and to accounts of what the teacher saw and heard and smelled and felt. This choice narrowed my options. I ended up writing something less comprehensive than I'd planned. The book became essentially an account of a year in the emotional life of a schoolteacher.

Tracy Kidder from The Writing Life: Writers on How They Think and Work (edited by Marie Arana)

Friday, March 24, 2006

Good Poetry is the Spontaneous Overflow of Powerful Feelings

For all good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: and though this be true, Poems to which any value can be attached were never produced on any variety of subjects but by a man who, being possessed of more than usual organic sensibility, had also thought long and deeply." William Wordsworth

Thursday, March 23, 2006

What I know, for sure ... I think

Everybody won't like everything you write. Some people won't like anything you write. Get over it.

Stay off an editor's "Life's too short to deal with this person" list. At the same time, don't be a wimp. Practice professionalism.

Don't tell yourself lies about either your strengths or your weaknesses as a person and a writer. Looking yourself in the face is the first step to creating great characters.

Read widely.

from "What I know, for sure ... I think" by Susan Elizabeth Philips
The Writer January 2003

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

You Can't Imagine a Three-legged Dog

An old saw about a three-legged dog states, "You can't imagine a three-legged dog running." But as soon as you read that sen-tence, your nervous system contradicts it - you do see that three-legged dog. And it's running. The dog is ridiculous, clumsy, endearing, inspiring, or even oddly graceful.

from Let The Crazy Child Write by Clive Matson

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Don't Tell Lies About Your Strengths & Weaknesses

Don't tell yourself lies about either your strengths or your weaknesses as a person and a writer. Looking yourself in the face is the first step to creating great characters.

THE WRITER January 2003 From "What I know, for sure ... I think" (A best-selling author offers words of wisdom gleaned from 20 years of writing) by Susan Elizabeth Philips

Sunday, March 19, 2006

The Novel is Like a Tapestry, A Short Story is Like Painting a Watercolor

". . . .the novel is like a tapestry. It's a long and painstaking process, and I have to work on the details and create an alternative world, and it has to, be as.full and rich as I can make it. A short story is like painting a watercolor--the challenge is to have a lightness of touch. What I'm working with is nuance and subtlety and ellipses--what I'm leaving out is important as what I'm putting in. I have to work with the power of suggestion and I love the form because of this.

from "An Interview with Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni" by Sarah Anne Johnson The Writer's Chronicle September 2002