Revising with a New Narrator

I'm back from a short trip where I had the great pleasure of meeting up with Writerbug and RB for dinner at an oo-la-la French bistro (good pick, Bug!). Now, it's time to hit the keyboard. I had a long layover at the airport yesterday, long enough to find an ac outlet, plug in the laptop, and try a whole new approach to the pieces I'm revising. I've got three separate but linked pieces and I'm going to try to unify them into one long story. Last semester, I wrote something else in which I landed on a narrative voice that I feel good about. I'm going to try to have the new narrator tell the old stories and see how they change. Wish me luck -- it's an experiment for which I have high hopes.

Since the other part of my trip involved a somewhat demoralizing experience which I've had three days to revise my perspective about, it was on balance a combination of highs and lows. You could say I broke even.

Sunday Scribblings: Fellow Travelers

I like the literalness of today's prompt. Fellow travelers has come to mean almost anything but fellow travelers these days, that most people's first thought is about those who are on the same life path as them. For example, my fellow-writers, especially those whom I've met through the MFA, were the first to come into my mind when I saw the prompt.

Twenty-five years ago I went to Switzerland with a bunch of kids from local high schools to do five weeks of French Immersion in a small Alpine village built high on the side of a mountain. They tossed us in five to a room, and on the bunk opposite mine was a girl named Karen. She and I turned out to be kindred spirits. We liked getting into exactly the same kind of trouble, the same kids got on our nerves, we supported each other in our crushes on different boys without ever having a crush on the same boy, we had up-market tastes in champagne and chocolate (particularly for sixteen year-olds), and, finally, we swore we would return the next summer. Which we did. Together.

Over the next eighteen months, Karen and I had an idiosyncratic tour of Europe. We went to Athens without seeing the Parthenon, went to Amsterdam without seeing the Van Gogh Museum, and zipped through Italy without stopping in Rome, Florence, or Venice. We made our way to Crete, where that first time, staying there for three months, I didn't visit Knossos (I would see it later). It was the itinerary of two seventeen year-olds with no interest in anything but bars, boys, and beaches. Priding ourselves on travelling light, we hardly even shopped.

After three months in Crete, living on opposite sides of the Island (I in Agia Galini, Karen in Iraklion), I chose to return to Canada to attend University. Karen stayed. She's been living in Crete since 1983. I've been back to see her a couple of times (that's when I saw Knossos, and of course, I've since been to the Acropolis site and seen the Parthenon more than once).

Karen just visited Canada in December. She's thinking of moving back but is worried about culture shock. I can't imagine what I'd be like today if I'd followed her lead and stayed in Crete. But when we see one another, we're as close as we ever were. We were fellow-travelers, embarked on the adventure of our lives. It took us in two different directions, but there is something about being on the road together when you're young that creates an unbreakable bond no matter what other paths you might ultimately take.

For more fellow-travelers' stories, go here.

Photo credit to Wikipedia.

How Slow Can You Go?

Something tells me I've had this title before. In any case, I'm sure I've had this thought before. I'm revising. Why is revising so SLOW? Writing is the strangest endeavor you can imagine. Here I am, I want to write more than anything else. And today I had a whole day stretching out before me, a nice blank page, if you will, for writing and nothing but writing. I've been kicking away at this revision, or at least at trying to envision the revision, for the whole week. All I've come up with is that pretty much everything in the original needs to be scrapped.

The piece is called "Finishing the Story," and an underlying theme is the way we complete our parents' stories. This one focuses on my mother, whom I, of course, love. Suddenly, I have no idea how to write about people I love and know. As a writer of memoir-style non-fiction, I know that writing about her is really (or at least also) writing about me. Anyway, I'm having the opposite of an aha moment. I'm having a "huh?" moment instead. And it's painful. And so the day has been somewhat tortured as I try to figure out what matters in this piece.

What do you do when you're stuck?

On Track, Sort of

I kind of slacked yesterday on the writing, but I made it to yoga and even had a brisk walk later in the day. Today I managed to get in some work on my thesis and on my book revisions, wrote a few letters that needed to be written, spent 20 minutes on the elliptical machine AND did 30 crunches, and stuck to my healthy eating plan.

I think the exercise and smart eating are really important. When I do that, I feel better. When I feel better, I'm more energetic. When I'm more energetic, I have an easier time writing. And when I write, I feel best of all! I'm also giving myself a break by having very low expectations. As long as I do something in each category (a page here, 30 minutes on revision there, a little turn around the campus before lunch, a couple of yoga asanas) I'm satisfied.

Anyway, I'll definitely try to branch out a bit in blog topics, but in the "as long as I do something" lifestyle, I can't promise it'll be much more interesting!

Objective #1: Shake the cold!

My main objective today is to shake this darn cold I picked up at the residency. So I am not doing the 5 a.m. thing quite yet. Bug has already started posting her schedule. That impresses me and makes me feel as if I should have one, too. Okay, here goes:

Monday night: Go to bed early to sleep off last bit of cold

Tuesday:
6:30 Yoga class
8:15 Breakfast
9:00 Morning pages
10:00 Academic book revisions (work on chapter two)
12:30 Lunch with a friend
2-5 Meetings
Evening Work on "Finishing the Story" revision and order books for the semester

We'll see how Tuesday goes before making any plans for Wednesday.

As you can see, the blog is going to be super-gripping for the next little while!

Still Here

Just before the end of the MFA residency, which ended today, Bug, RB, and I re-committed to the blogs. In just six short months, it will be our turn to read at the graduate student readings, teach our own graduating student seminars, and walk the stage at graduation.

As usual, the residency inspired me to throw myself into the writing with all I have to give it. If it's going to work this semester, the 5 a.m. starts need to be reinstated.

Ready, set, ....

Baby Sweater

Of course the more there is to do, the more important it is to have knitting projects on the go. The latest project that I've seen through to completion is a miniature version of Sally Melville's Einstein Coat. It's called the "Baby Albert" and it's too cute. It's a very simple pattern in garter stitch from Sally's The Knitting Experience, Volume One: The Knit Stitch. The slip stitches at the beginning of every row are essential if it's going to work properly but the part I didn't grasp until at least halfway through is that they need to be slipped purlwise. That changes everything. Anyway, I didn't botch it too badly but now I know for next time. The big achievement for me is that it's the first baby project I've managed to finish before the baby outgrows it! Here it is, all blocked out on my blocking board:

Here's a detail of the buttons:

I used a cotton-wool blend for this project (more cotton than wool). I would highly recommend it for anyone wanting an easy baby project. It's definitely something a beginning knitter could do.

Early On-Set February Blahs

There are those days when it feels like bedtime and it's only 7 p.m. And there are those weeks that feel like Friday when it's only Monday. But I'm having an outrageously exaggerated version of that phenomenon. I've got the February Blahs and winter hasn't even begun. It's not even (all that) cold. There aren't even enough leaves on the ground yet to start raking (we like to do it all at once). Not only that, we're still on daylight savings time.

Maybe I'm ready for spring already because I'm anticipating all that awaits me this winter and that is a recipe for overwhelm if there ever was one. Or maybe this is how bears feel just before they go into hibernation: if I just take a week and stuff myself with food, then tuck myself in all warm and snug and go to sleep, when I wake up the icicles will be melting from the eavestroughs and spring will be on its way.

But if I did that I wouldn't be able to get any knitting in. Or snowboarding. Or yoga. Or watch my hockey team. Or see my writerly soulmates at the January residency...

Submission Three: Done

Another MFA submission off the desk. Many of my co-MFA-ers appear to be hitting walls right along with me at the moment. I've come to the conclusion that it is both an upside and a downside of low-residency programs that you can continue with your regular life/career as you do them.

The upside is the obvious one: no need to drop a thriving career, relocate to another city, or anything like that. Life, as you knew it, does not need to end...or at least not quite.

This leads to the downside. Most of us already had full lives and, as a result, the low-residency MFA just takes the regular life and ADDS full-time graduate student responsibilities to it. They estimate that to get the most out of the program you need to put in about 25 hours a week. YOU try finding 25 hours in a week. It's not easy. But the thing is, even when it's not 25 hours, I do manage to find time in a week to write.

This leads to another upside. Life in a low-residency program is probably a lot like the writing life actually is for many writers. From what I can see, most writers have other commitments as well: teaching, speaking, day-jobs not directly connected to their work, partners and children...If you're going to write, you need to carve time out of an ordinary day in which to honor that need (it is, after all, a need. I can't see anyone sticking with it if it's anything less!).

This leads to another downside. Burn out. If the low-residency MFA is a sign of things to come, and if the level of burn out I am now experiencing after the third submission of the third semester is going to be a fact of life, I'm not sure I can make it. I came very close this month to hitting the "what's the point of it all?" wall.

I want to end on an upside. Support. Since most of the other students are in the same situation, the support in a low residency MFA is incredible. I've heard that MFA programs can be competitive and unsupportive. I haven't experienced anything but encouragement and support from the circle of writers I've met through this program. They're fantastic. And for the final upside, if we didn't have all that time in between the times we get to see one another, the residencies wouldn't be quite so magical. In a full time residential program, it would be impossible to sustain the magic of the residencies.

Upsides: 4
Downsides: 2

Happy Birch-Day and Birthday to Me

I said that I wanted to finish the birch shawl by my birthday. Well, today is my birthday and I finished the shawl on Thursday, blocked it on Saturday, wore it on Saturday night, and showed it off to all who would look at it from that moment on.

I am so proud of it, so amazed the I knit this with my own two hands. It is by far the most satisfying and most beautiful knitting project I've ever completed. And although it was a rough start, once I got rolling with it I had so much fun that I've actually purchased some yarn for another one. I don't know when I'll cast on -- there are a few un-finished items in the line-up and a sane response to the cue would be not to let anything jump ahead. Not to mention that my mother gave me yarn and a pattern for something quite astonishing:

In this yarn, this colour:
So I'll admire my birch while I think about other knits. One thing I can say for sure is that lace knitting is my favourite kind. It's got to be the counting -- nothing else can intrude and that's as calming as can be. I leave you with a couple of views of birch #1 in its various venues.

And a happy birthday to Tammy, The Daily Warrior, too.

The Journey

Of course, I cannot take credit for Mary Oliver's wonderful poem, "The Journey." I am posting it because I know a few writers, including myself, who could use some inspiration and encouragement today.

The Journey

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you
kept shouting

their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do--

determined to save

the only life you could save.

~Mary Oliver

On the Air

Well, you may recall that I had a pitch for a radio documentary accepted almost a year ago. Then I worked on it through the winter. It finally aired last night. I am really pleased with it. So pleased that I am actually going to do what I never do: I'm going to post the link: don't tell anyone I work with ;).

Here it is. It's the one listed under the week of September 5: http://www.cbc.ca/outfront/podcast.html

I had a great time working with the producer and he has encouraged me to send in another pitch so we can work together again. It's certainly the most fun I've had on a creative project. And did I mention that it's the very first creative work for which I have been paid. A milestone, to be sure.

Even though I'd heard it a number of times before, it was really exhilerating to know that it was being broadcast across the country and on the internet. And the positive feedback has been pretty encouraging. I know that these feelings of enthusiasm for the creative life come in waves, and I'm going to ride this one for as long as possible...

Lakeside Retreat: the Photos

The road in:

The garden:







The lake:

Just that much more north to see hints of autumn:




Hope you can come!

Discovering What Everyone Probably Already Knows

Dave Sedaris is hilarious! Among the cds I got from the library before my drive on Friday was "Dave Sedaris: Live at Carnegie Hall." It's a taped "show" and get this, his show consists of reading his essays about his family aloud. And they're good. And funny. Like, I've been driving around today and wanting the light to turn red so I can be in the car longer because I was laughing so hard. Laughing out loud. In the car. Alone. I don't do that much. I brought it in the house and listened to it while I ate dinner (R is out of town, so I was eating alone).

So don't tell me: you know all about Dave Sedaris. You already knew how funny he is. You've been reading him for ages. Only someone who has been living in cave could not have read him before.

Yes, but have you heard the cd?

Turning Ideas into a Story: Help!

I've got pages and pages and pages of scenes and ideas and little jottings for my next piece and I am now at the part where I need to give it some structure. It's a piece of first person non-fiction in which I am supposed to be presenting a character profile of someone else, with myself as a subsidiary character.

I'm calling on your writerly wisdom to share with me your techniques for turning an unshaped mass of little bursts of this and that (some inspired, some not so much) into .... something ... anything ... that you might feel good enough about to turn in a submission.

TIA!

Recommendation: Mary Oliver Reading Mary Oliver

I am actually here, at the lake, and it's just as I described (but where are you guys?). It's a long drive and I was alone in the car. So last night I went to the library to pick up some audio books and some traditional gospel music (I love that stuff, but never know what to buy, so I borrow). When I have a long drive ahead of me and more cds than I can listen to and no one in the car to say "let's listen to something else," I am almost as content as when I have nothing to do for a few hours besides knitting (as rare an occasion, to be sure).

I began with Ekhart Tolle giving a lecture on "now" (my favourite time of day) on the cd "In the Presence of a Great Mystery." When I hit Toronto traffic and started thinking of alternative routes, he was at the part where he was saying that we need to "make friends with the present moment." We're always wanting it to be over, to be somewhere else, and so rarely satisfied with what's happening now, whatever that may be." So I stuck it out in the traffic without changing my route. At one point he said, if you can explain what I said you probably didn't get it. Well, I'm not sure I got it, but I can't explain what he said. His voice is as soothing as velvet and it's a wonder I didn't zone out into a meditative state right behind the wheel. If you like non-religious spirituality, I recommend this one. It's about 2 and half hours.

The old gospel music was a bit too much for me right after this, so I quickly switched to "At Blackwater Pond: Mary Oliver Reads Mary Oliver." Can I be as inarticulate as to say, "WOW!" The woman writes the most lovely, inspiring poetry, perfect for the drive, which takes me further into nature with each kilometre. And more than that, she's a fabulous reader. I didn't realize how wonderful the poem "Beans" is! And also, I forgot that she can be funny, like in the poem about finding the bear footprint. And if there was a perfect choice for following up a lecture about the present moment, it's Mary Oliver. Her poems dive into the present and open it up to all of its detail, as if each slice of time and space contains an infinity of possibility. I mean, the first line of "Peonies" is one of those lines that make you think, how did she think of that? How does a poet think to start with:

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,

Okay. I'm still in training!

Lakeside Writers' Retreat

The house sits amidst the trees and looks southwest over the calm lake. Ample windows on both levels give a sense of space and contact with the wildness of the landscape. The wildness is cultivated, like an English cottage garden, strewn with huge boulders broken off from the granite slabs of the Canadian Shield, decorated with folk art, and covered underfoot with a soft, cool floor of creeping thyme growing over the stepping stones fashioned out of cut logs from the felled birch tree.

Each writer has her own bedroom and license to wander freely throughout the house and the property. She can find a quiet corner in the little nook off the dining room or recline in the la-z-boy with her laptop. Maybe there is some soft jazz grooving in the background. Or silence. She might meander along the road, seekng inspiration in the wild raspberries eaten straight from the bush. Or float along on her back in the lake, staring up at the cloud animals drifting by across the brilliant blue sky. And they write when they want to write, read when they want to read, do nothing when they want to do nothing, all day long. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.

In the evening, they come together for a sundowner -- cosmopolitan's perhaps? And then they all chip in to prepare a simple meal (why am I imagining baguettes and cheese, olives and fresh field tomatoes?). It's time for wine, each has brought her favourite bottle. And for readings -- they take turns reading -- from the day's production or from something special that they chose just for this occasion, to share with the women who understand what they are trying to do and why they want this so much.

And then maybe they play Scattergories.

And in the night sky the stars twinkle more brightly than they ever have and the moon hangs large and smiling over the lake.

Reverse Schedule

Following Bug, I am posting a reverse schedule for the next submission. D-day for the submission is September 10, so the schedule, as recommended in The Now Habit, moves backwards from the 10th.

September 10 -- Final touches on cover letter; e-mail package to my mentor.
September 7-9 -- Final touches on new writing for submission; draft cover letter.
September 3-6 -- Craft essay: draft of section 1 (of three sections)
September 1-2 -- Labour Day weekend -- have low expectations but set aside 1 hour per day for polishing writing and 1 hour per day to work on craft essay.
August 25-31 -- Deepening new writing; mapping out section 1 of craft essay.
August 22-24 -- Complete draft of new writing; finish Jade Peony if not done yet.
August 17-20 (travelling) -- Read Jade Peony by Wayson Choy (a fictional work written as a memoir, for craft essay). Start each morning with one hour on new writing.
August 13-17 -- Start each morning at 6 a.m. with one hour on the new writing; find another hour (at least) later in the day to work on it again.
August 11-12 -- Knit. The well is empty. This is my restorative weekend.

I have another major project going at work, but I don't like to post about the day job.

Next post: my fantasy idea for a writing retreat at the lake.

Revising...Again!

I feel as if I have done nothing since the residency, which is, of course, not true but for some reason this revision is crawling along. You know what they say about 10% inspiration, 90% perspiration. Well, I'm sweating, that's for sure.

So I'm back to empathetic questioning. I've written about this before and it really helps me when I go to revise. Personally, I think that the main revision goal for me is deepening, which is why I like Carol Bly's chapter about empathetic questioning so much (see her Beyond the Writers' Workshop). So this is not for the time when you want to polish up the craft aspect of your piece. This is for moving further into the emotional heart of the piece. As Bly puts it, it is "a kind, cool-handed tool, not just to encourage our imagination, but to fend off all enemies of our deeper selves, enemies that include our shallow selves" (BWW, 51).

Here are the five steps for engaging in this form of deepening, according to Carol Bly:
1. Decide to hear your own or others' (perhaps your characters') thoughts without challenging them.
2. Empty yourself of your own point of view or any association of yours that comes to mind as the speaker speaks (even if the speaker is you -- this process is non-judgmental).
3. Ask the person who just spoke (or yourself, if it’s you) some open-ended questions (not yes-or-no questions) about what he or she just said. The goal here is to bring the speaker closer to herself or himself, not to slide them into agreement with you or anyone else.
4. In your own words, paraphrase what the person has just said, as you understand it.
5. Help the person look forward and plan ahead free-spiritedly. “Okay. Given those data, feelings, and meanings you’ve just reported, what do you see as a good direction to take from here? What might some of your goals be for now and for the future?”

That's how it would look if it were an interaction. So to use this as a revision tool, you approach the work as if you are interacting. "In writing creative nonfiction, we ask these questions of our various selves," says Bly. For fiction writers, "we would ask these questions of our characters" (50).

The questions are meant to move us not only deeper, but more to the particular. As AJ also suggested (see Bug's account of the revision workshop), we need to get more concrete, less abstract. Bly suggests changing plurals and generics to singulars and specifics.

And finally, a question for memoir writers to ask themselves: "Here I have written this bit of memoir. Which value of mine does it come from?" (BWW, 58).

Thanks, Carol Bly.

Vacation Time

Why is it so hard to leave for a vacation? I'm trying to pack up the motorcycle for our two week road trip, and although I could really use a vacation, I'm feeling like I shouldn't be going anywhere. For one thing, I haven't made a great deal of progress on the first submission, which is due a scant week after I return (I can just see the late nights and early mornings the first week of August has in store for me!). The laptop is coming with me, as it did last year. At least I shold be able to fit in an hour or so of writing a day.

Anyway, here is the route: tomorrow we'll end up somewhere in New York state, on our way to Lake Placid, where we arrive on Wednesday. Thursday we do a larger group ride on Thursday through the mountains in New Hampshire, ending up in Mount Washington. Friday we'll make our way back across the border and spend two nights in Quebec City. Sunday it's Canada's capital, Ottawa for a couple of days (dinner with Khendron, I hope), then along the Trans-Canada Highway to Iron Bridge to visit relatives on R's side. Back down through Manitoulin Island--taking the Chicheemaun across to the mainland, landing in Tobermory. Spending the weekend with some friends at their cottage on an island in Lake Huron, and then home by the end of the month. It should be a good unwind with some time to read, write, and relax. Not sure about knitting projects. I guess I should take one along but I can never decide which one. Birch is probably a good choice, since I've been on a birch vacation, so it is only fitting that I vacation with birch. I'd like to have it by the fall - maybe in time for my birthday in late September.

Photo credit goes to Patrick LaFreniere, who took this photo at Mount Washington Observatory in August 2006. Source: http://www.mountwashington.org/photos/journal/index.php?month=08&year=2006 .