From the story “The Teacher,” in Winesburg, Ohio. Yes, Sherwood Anderson. Yes.

The school teacher tried to bring home to the mind of the boy some conception of the difficulties he would have to face as a writer. “You will have to know life,” she declared, and her voice trembled with earnestness. She took hold of George Willard’s shoulders and turned him about so that she could look into his eyes. A passer-by might have thought them about to embrace. “If you are to become a writer you’ll have to stop fooling with words,” she explained. “It would be better to give up the notion of writing until you are better prepared. Now it’s time to be living. I don’t want to frighten you, but I would like to make you understand the import of what you think of attempting. You must not become a mere peddler of words. The thing to learn is to know what people are thinking about, not what they say.”

the evolution of artwork

This guest post is part of our ongoing web series MARGINALIA about all things writing, reading, & learning. To submit your own experience, please read our guidelines.

This week, we feature a piece of art composed of poems by e.e. cummings and ask the artist, Jason Arnold, about his process.

Untitled Painting (For Anna)

About the piece of art, from the artist
I used only e.e. cummings’ Dial Paper Poems (1919-1920) and other random early poetry that was originally unpublished as the setting/background for this painting. As I rarely feel connected to paintings as real artistic statements anymore, I view my paintings as almost sculptural objects. This painting I set and dried with particles and sand embedded in the surface. The final artistic act was the recording of the action of throwing paint like a sexual explosion over the canvas. Continue reading

On Making Sense

UPDATE: Here’s the full text of the Soderbergh speech referenced below. If you care about anything, read it.

Shane Jones has a good post over at HTMLGiant that reflects on the publishing industry and on some cogent comments Director Steven Soderbergh recently made.

Here’s something Soderbergh says in his speech that should make every young filmmaker, writer, and artist, take notice: when questioning why his film Side Effects didn’t do well he comes up with the answer that there is no answer because everyone at the studio had already moved on to the next release. And when a film (or book) doesn’t do well, it’s not the studio (or publisher) who is truly affected, it’s the artist.

It’s a quick read and worth it.

memory as redemption

This post is part of our ongoing web series MARGINALIA about all things writing, reading, & learning. To submit your own experience, please read our guidelines.Civil War bullet, 1898

Tobias Wolff’s story “Bullet in the Brain” ends with a particularly vivid and evocative memory, the last one that the main character, Anders, has before his death.  This memory “works” so well because we can read it as a moment of redemption for Anders, a literary critic, who throughout the story has been brash, entitled, obnoxious, and critical, and who is, by the story’s end, redeemed through his pure memory of a moment in which the simple music of language awed him.  He recalls a moment of innocence and untarnished wonder and, in doing so, achieves some small measure of salvation.

Continue reading

marginalia-header

This guest post is part of our ongoing web series MARGINALIA about all things writing, reading, & learning. To submit your own experience, please read our guidelines.

On Writers and BoxesWhen I was in the process of getting my MFA, there was just one thing that really gave me a lot of trouble, and that was: the talent show. This was at the Vermont College of Fine Arts, a low-residency program, and VCFA had talent shows twice a year, one per residency. When someone first mentioned the tradition, I remember being baffled; since (presumably) nobody had any talents aside from writing, would the show just be a bunch of people reading poems and stories, like they had at the student reading the night before? As it happened, though, my fellow students were good at a lot of things. People danced; they sang and played guitars—guitars that they had brought with them to the residency because they were so into them—they did stand-up comedy; they did skits. It was a shock. I had basically enrolled in the program because writing was the one and only interest and talent I had; I hadn’t expected to be asked for more.

Continue reading

encounters

This guest post is part of our ongoing web series MARGINALIA about all things writing, reading, & learning. To submit your own experience, please read our guidelines.

classroom

Melanie talks all the time in class. I ask her to stop. She continues even when I stand right next to her. She would continue if I put my hand over her mouth. She doesn’t say anything important, and she never stops. Continue reading

Teaching After Tragedy

UPDATE: It is now Thursday, April 18. Berklee College has been closed all week with a partial opening scheduled for tomorrow. We have lost an entire week of school. We will have a college-wide meeting on Monday to address the attacks. My classes have two weeks left, final projects to do, assignments to complete, all the regularly scheduled stuff. But we will dedicate a portion of next week to addressing the effects on the college community. A Berklee student was injured in the bombings. Many others have donated their time and energy to volunteering at hospitals. We are caught up in the events, and we have the end of the term fast approaching. I want to ask: what would you do with these classes for two weeks? Can I ask for your help in advising me going forward? Thanks in advance for any suggestions.

Some asshole detonated two bombs on Boylston Street, near the finish line of the Boston Marathon, here in Boston on April 15, Patriots’ Day, “Marathon Monday,” “Tax Day.” Marathon Monday in Boston is a really nice day, typically. It’s a state holiday; everyone here in the seat of the American Revolution has the day off while the rest of the country suffers another shift at work. Thousands of people pile into the city for a really nice thing—friends, family, strangers running 26.2 miles through Boston, the longest standing marathon in the United States. My father ran the marathon when I was four. My neighbor Paul ran the marathon a few years back. My friend Justin ran the marathon two years ago, and I was there to support him (read: drink beers with another friend near the finish line). I’ve always watched the intrepid runners, wondering if I’d ever get up the courage to attempt such a feat. Two Patriots’ Days ago, I was standing and laughing and cheering for strangers and friends—people determined to run an absurdly long distance to prove something to themselves, to get in shape, to triumph, to join in tradition, to go after something cool and weird and respectable and good—right where a bomb exploded yesterday, killing three, including an eight-year-old boy, maiming dozens, and injuring a hundred more. Why? Continue reading

Great Writers Steal

Shout Out

Writer and teacher Kenneth Nichols offers some thoughts on Alicia Erian’s story from our first issue over at his blog Great Writers Steal. Thanks for the shout-out, Kenneth!

Read it hereWhat can we steal from Alicia Erian’s “Standing Up to the Superpowers”?

science of revising

This guest post is part of our ongoing web series MARGINALIA about all things writing, reading, & learning. To submit your own experience, please read our guidelines.

I once wrote an entire chapter of a novel where nothing new happened. One of my mentors in my MFA program bluntly pointed out that nothing in the chapter added any new information to the story or to my character.

“Stagnant,” she said. Then she found another chapter to delete. How could I not have known I was writing in circles?

It took a while, but I realized that when I was unsure what should happen next, or if I knew what I wanted to happen but was afraid of putting characters in emotionally wrenching situations, I procrastinated on the page. Clearly, I needed to ditch this unproductive habit. Continue reading

draft issue 2 reviewed at NewPages.com

The good people over at New Pages just posted a review of our second issue. Choicest quotable from said review reads as follows:

…draft invites you to think of a creative work as the product of a process. Many writers are stymied by the challenge of doing everything “right” the first time. This journal does a great public service, reminding us all that it’s okay to “make mistakes,” so long as you’re putting words on the page.

Thanks, New Pages (and reviewer Kenneth Nichols) for all the good work you do in the lit community! We appreciate you.