Why is Creative Writing always so sad and depressing? –David Lynn,
I took the 12:30am flight from Los Angeles last Saturday and arrived in Ohio at 11am for my sixth summer as a participant in The Kenyon Review Writers Workshops after 2 layovers and 3 hours of sleep. At the Texas airport I almost became a cliche but saved myself by putting the copy of On The Road back on the airport-bookstore shelf.
“‘Come home’, the Earth utters to the body.”–David Baker
Tyler Meier, KR Managing Editor, greets the workshop participants in Storer Hall later that evening with the claim that this place (Gambier, Ohio) really is the best place on Earth for writing. I go to sleep that night and wake up at 3:45am PST for my first day of Fiction Workshop with Nancy Zafrias. (See note 1)
” Though, experience told me, I’d be lifting the bicycle”–Workshop Participant’s Reading
I have been instructed by my workshop leader NOT to blog the experience of this fiction workshop (see Note 2), because she firmly believes in the motto “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas”–or in this case, “What happens in Acland house stays in Acland house.” Each night the participant readings move me in and out of different moments and bodies—I ate boiled peanuts and saw Jesus, I trimmed a deer, got felt up at a carnival. Each night I look for fireflies while on my way to the ice box to sleep.
” There are many ways to navigate, to be misled, so I will be restless; no, I will be still.” –Jennifer Grotz
Light through the Maple leaves. Squirrels everywhere. People whose faces I know but names I’ve forgotten keep smiling as we pass one another on Middle Path. There’s no story here–no continuous narrative, just lit up moments. (note 3)
“Before making any cuts, you need to put on rubber gloves.”–Workshop Participant’s Reading
My roommates and I stay up late talking about the differences between the genres. Friction, non-friction . . . I am writing about Quantum Physics, and you are writing about butter churning, and she is writing about phrenology. We measure the separation between us in smaller and smaller increments as the days pass.
“No need to specify which breast the strawberries fell on to.”–a line in my notes
We’ve watched Paul’s Case and To Build a Fire. It’s all in the point of view. Ask a rhetorical question when you don’t know where to go from here. Should move to the sky to see what happens below? A writer from California stops me in mid-sentence one night: “The stars! Look! Look at those stars!”
“Oh Well. It’s all material.”–Rebecca McClanahan
Along the Kokosing Trail I stop at the water to watch. A turtle spins and churns. The turtle slips into shadow beneath overhanging branches. A crane takes its place in the water. The crane walks on orange sticks and turns its neck, so the eye is mine. I am about to exhale when it opens each wing with a shake.
“No one ever had to hold a fundraiser for lettuce soup.”–Workshop Participant’s Reading
Breakfast is good. We pass each other in the mornings rushing to the computer labs to print up our overnight efforts. We show our war wounds to the others at lunchtime. At 6 o’clock, when the sun is still bright and hot, and it’s thick outside, trees shake when we pass. Sometimes the deer leap and bound across the well-trimmed hedges when we approach. We take notes when others read and talk and share. We walk back to our rooms in the rain and wonder about attracting the lightening with each key stroke.
“It hasn’t moved, but everything else has.”–Workshop Participant’s Reading
Perhaps we might let the eyes fall on those fingers, the ones dusted with charcoal from rubbing the tombstones? I watched him sweat, and she limped, and I rubbed and rubbed until my paper revealed the last four letters of a name. You don’t need directions to the story before the story starts– I’ve wanted to call you, but I’ve been concentrating on my triangles. (note 4)
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(note 1): I am terrified of taking Nancy Zafris’ workshop.
(note 2). Quotes that may or may not be from Nancy Zafris, some of which I really shouldn’t be sharing with you: “Do not take photos of me and put them on facebook;” “Do not blog about this;” and also “To get to the A+ story involves making errors;” “I like mistakes–I don’t like mediocrity;” “Action without comment is good;” “Good, pretty writing won’t save it–it’s got to have structure.”
(note 3) “The continuous narrative of existence is a lie . . . there are lit-up moments, and the rest is dark.” –Jeanette Winterson, Lighthouse Keeping
(note 4) A technical term.