Posts Tagged: writing
Nick Ripatrazone on why writers need to run:
While on sabbatical in London in 1972, a homesick Oates began running “compulsively; not as a respite for the intensity of writing but as a function of writing.” At the same time, she began keeping a journal that ultimately exceeded 4,000 single-spaced, typewritten pages.
Over at the New Yorker, George Saunders maps out his writing education, from Tobias Wolff’s call to his parents’ house to tell him about his acceptance to the Syracuse Creative Writing Program, Doug Unger’s continual excitement and teaching, the loss of “the magic,” finding the magic again, and a six year gap spent as a tech writer....more
I never bring my computer with me to the basement, and the discipline of the method is to force myself to work out the ideas, the arrangement of the argument or story before I start building paragraphs and sentences.
For the Kenyon Review, Brian Michael Murphy talks about how locking himself up in a basement has made him a better writer....more
Marjorie Sandor writes for the Masters Review on the art of writing the uncanny. Sandor explores the 19th century origins of the word, whose use in literature seemed to address the blurring of boundaries in history, science, and the emerging field of psychology:
You might go to “a canny man” to have a spell cast on an enemy, or to have one reversed.
Ray Bradbury, Joseph Heller, Margaret Atwood, Jack Kerouac, and Kurt Vonnegut all found homes for their stories in Playboy. Now the publication better known for the highly photoshopped pictures of naked women plans to focus on its articles—by March 2016, the magazine will do away with nude pictures....more
WRITER: Thank you. Thank you. Really. Because my whole problem is I’m incapable of noticing things I might want to write about. I walk through this world blind, and it’s not till helpful people shove things in my face and suggest that I write about them that I ever have an idea.
What I should have said to that crowd was that our interrogation of Woolf’s reproductive status was a soporific and pointless detour from the magnificent questions her work poses. (I think at some point I said, “Fuck this shit,” which carried the same general message and moved everyone on from the discussion.) After all, many people have children; only one made To the Lighthouse and The Waves, and we were discussing Woolf because of the books, not the babies.
The works of prolific writers are often viewed as less-than-literary, like the largely forgotten books of mystery novelist John Creasey, author of 564 books. Even serious novelists like Joyce Carol Oates, author of more than fifty novels, can write so much they lose the critics’ interest....more