Graduate Research

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Schneider, Pat. "Voice." Writing Alone and With Others. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003.

Schneider defines the author's voice in several terms: the original voice, or the one you first learned and use when you talk with to the people with whom you lived as a child; the primary voice, or the one you use at home, "relaxed, talking to those with whom you live as an adult" (93) -- both of these termed by Peter Elbow as "mother tongue"; and the acquired voice, or your professional speech. In this chapter Schneider suggests several exercises to help writers discover these different voices so they can be used in their writing, and so they can discern their voices and use them to become original writers.

Schneider, Pat. "Writing Practice: The Journal." Writing Alone and With Others. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003.

This chapter emphasizes the importance of the journal as an important tool in a creative writer's life. It helps the writer practice his art. More than so, it helps the writer remember that recording his life is important, although bell hooks is quoted as saying journaling (or diary keeping) is an acceptable form in society "because it was not taken seriously as literature. Therefore, even as it was a vehicle for liberation, it also functioned, by being disposable, to maintain women's silence" (64).

However, the journal also has several good functions: the writer can practice writing closest to his own natural speech, thus practicing voice; can find his bad habits (by noticing what habits are repeated, or what is boring in the work, or by trying to approach each entry in a new way); and by reinforcing the need to remember (details).

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Schneider, Pat. "Toward a Disciplined Writing Life." Writing Alone and With Others. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003.

This chapter deals with regular production of writing, or disciplining ourselves to continually write. Schneider believes that we should consider less our work as a discpline, and instead consider more making a consistent effort: " 'Discipline' usually means making ourselves do some duty, grit our teeth, force ourselves to do what we don't want to do. A discplined writer, we are told (or we tell ourselves) writes every day, writes X number of hours a day or X number of pages or paragraphs a day. We read how someone else structures his or her writing life, and we judge ourselves by this pattern. Unfortunately, many books on w riting reinforce this idea of discipline" (40).

I have to admit that I do need to, on occasion, be disciplined with myself. I have to say, I am going to write two pages a day in my novel this summer, or it will never get done, and I want to finish my MFA work by the end of the year. I look at envy at writers such as Stephen King, or other authors that have several books out, and wonder why I can't produce as quickly. I could write three articles a day as a journalist, but sometimes squeezing out five paragraphs in my novel feels excruciating.

But, Schneider feels that "The goal and the fruit of a true discipline is not publication. Neither is money or fame ... The goal and the fruit of a true discipline is completion. The completion of a work of art" (41). I need to remember that there is a reason why I began my novels, and that they might never be published (although I hope they are), but that writing them was more about the journey of creation, and not selling an end product. When I remember that these books are more about my dedication to the writing process, rather than a finished product, it takes the pressure off of me, and I can enjoy what I'm doing.

The chapter goes into some of the problems writers face when they are trying to produce, such as other life obligations, dealing with criticism that isn't constructive, not believing you have something important to say, the inability to believe you are an artist, and worrying that someone close to you won't like what you have written. Schneider says that a writer must learn to put craft before all of this, and to remember that writing is a pleasure to be pursued ... "think of it as a longed-for pleasure, as a hot fudge sundae, as that which pleases you, delights you, that which you love" (51). Taking the pressure off of the expression will help the words to flow. She also points out that "writing has its seasons" -- and sometimes, it's dead winter. If the words or ideas aren't coming, it's OK to recognize that you need some time to live and allow those ideas to come naturally. And when they do, make sure to give yourself time to write them down.

Friday, June 16, 2006

Schneider, Pat. "Getting Started (Again)." Writing Alone and With Others. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003.

This chapter addresses the habits of writers, from superstitions (using a certain pen) to what time of day works. Schneider says writers that worry too much about these habits are probably blocked or beginners who want to know what makes writing "work".

However, she also acknowledges that "each of us has idiosyncracies, habits, and inclinations, and those peculiar traits are often linked to our creativity" (24). I have to agree that there are certain writing exercises that I like to do before I start a new chapter, and that my writing tends to come easiest either early in the morning or late at night. I don't HAVE to do these things, but it helps.

Most of all, (the writer) "need(s) space, privacy, and time, and you need to be constantly learning, growing. YOu need to know how to begin again" (24). If you stop writing for awhile, it's so much more difficult to begin again. During the academic year, I become detached from my longer works and it's difficult to go back to them -- I forget details, or just don't care as much about the work when I return to it. I'll be thankful when I have less work to do after this year, and can concentrate more on less students, as well as my own work.

Schneider mentions that the solitude does not necessarily mean being alone; solitude can be found in workshops. "Thousands of times I have seen it in a writing workshop where we write together in silence. A kind of solitude happens there, where each of us works silently and protects the other's privacy. In that setting, miracles happen: The writer writes clear, clean narrative; surprising juxtapositions; metaphoric images; insights that the writer himself or herself does not perceive until it is read aloud and named by listeners" (27). And I find this is true; in a community of writers, there is support for what you're doing, for searching for the right words to convey meaning and encouragement when you struggle. There is no expectation of an end product, necessarily, but just respect for the creation of the written word.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Schneider, Pat. "Feeling and Facing Fear." Writing Alone and With Others. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003.

"Writing is talking. It is hunkering down around the cave fire at night and telling about the day. And however it may be disguised, fear is close to the center of the first stories we will want to tell" (3). As one of my students at Eckerd College recently said, "You mean I can't hide behind my characters (like I do) in fiction?!?" The fear of exposing your true self on the page, for others to examine and possibly judge, can be daunting.

This chapter was about fear and what might get in our way when we choose to write about ourselves: fear of the truth and what we might discover about ourselves; fear of someone else (what they might think of our writing, or that they might see an experience you've written about in a different way, and thus, think you're lying on the page); "scar-tissue" fears caused by grammarian teachers who didn't look at the content of the writing, but only the grammar; and even fear of success -- that our work might be published, and therefore public. All of these are legitimate fears -- I sometimes worry that I'm slow to finish my novels because I know how difficult it will be to get them published, and if I do, what people will think of my novels, both my professional peers as well as my friends and family.

However, the fears must be wrangled with and overcome, or at least understood, in order to write. Schneider advises that writers trust the process, not to get intimidated by their goals, not to allow others' points of view to have too much impact on the message we're trying to get across.