Writer Loop

Acting Like a Writer

2011-11-21T20:29:37Z

Goodbye Love draft annotated for an author reading

Reading a story outloud changes the way it was written as much as grinding your own coffee changes the way your coffee tastes. Experience heightens awareness.

I read Goodbye Love, an unpublished monologue, at the 2011 Tin House Summer Writer’s Workshop student readings because I wanted to feel what it would be like to be this character and tell this story.

I wanted to tell it really slow as if the character was editing her memory of the event before she spoke. If I did it right, it would feel like a poem and the audience would experience some discomfort as the character finished the story.

I constructed a quick backstory using the following factors which would influence and guide my tone:

Time of Day
Place
Audience
Time Elapsed Since Story Occurred

I read and re-read the story outloud four or five times prior to the actual reading, sometimes to other people in the workshop to get feedback on timing and pace. Underlined words got more of a pause. Certain words changed when I read.

I planned to stay flexible during the final reading, especially in the parts that didn’t seem to have a definitive wording.

After the reading, one of my fellow workshop participants whispered in my ear, “did that really happen to you?” I steal bits and pieces from reality, but the story happens for the character, not me.

Riff Dialogue Written Appropriately

2011-11-02T15:14:04Z

Whenever I’ve written dialogue by a non-American, I’ve primarily focused on the rhythm of their speech to approach a comfortable accuracy.

Certain words sound like punctuation, even in the middle of a sentence. Repetitive words hint at lazy spots in thinking, which become parenthesis for the actual intent or meaning. Volume can be erratic and modulate based on comfort rather than emphasis on meaning.

However, certain rules may apply when the dialogue hits the page. For example, a friend from Sweden sent me an e-mail, in English, with the following explanation because he used the word “forever” which Swedes type as one word in English.

There is a huge difference between Swedish and English. There’s even a page called ‘typeittogether’ in Swedish just to guide people.

Here’s a little joke about how newswedes speak and write words. In English the sentence should be ‘A brown haired nurse’. In Swedish a nurse is called ‘sicknurse’. So the proper Swedish would be ‘A brownhaired sicknurse’. When people englify or just don’t know they usually fuck it up and it turns in to ‘a brown haired sick nurse’ but what you’re really writing, the actual meaning then turns into ‘A brown hairy nurse that is sick’ or actually to put it plainly ’A sick black nurse that has hair on her body’. Not quite the same.

Piranha Editing for Ending

2011-08-12T03:37:22Z

I brought my latest short story to this year’s Tin House Summer Workshop hoping for an ending.

I had no intention of writing another scene. The characters were going to have to work it out within the bounds of the current version. I had four scenes. A luxury, really, but I just couldn’t break open the main character so she’d take the bait, like the guy, and freak-out at the end. This was the map I wanted to draw.

Everything I threw at these characters was thrown back at me.

White hot story pacing
Character banter like battle armor
Insecurity traps and mind games
A robbery

After the workshop, the first thing I did was tighten the noose with setting descriptions. This slowed down the dialogue, built a little more tension and helped anchor the reader in the last scene. I couldn’t figure out plot, but I knew they got out of a car and walked so I described that in detail. At least I was fixing something, even if I didn’t know what was supposed to happen at the end.

The main character still wouldn’t break, but the workshop had validated my hunch on where she would break in the banter. I tested those spots after each round of edits. Nothing.

A friend from the workshop reread the draft and suggested that I should draw out the first scene (do more show than tell). This helped set the trap and open up some opportunities. I also spun in some quirks and mind games. Threading them through the story helped me to bust up the banter to show some character vulnerability.

When the character finally broke, I touched up the ending and deleted a lot of the new stuff to get back to the bones of the story. The whole process reminded me of Piranha.

Only People from Finland Finnish

2011-06-06T22:42:59Z

A writer’s life is littered with break-ups. Each story is meant to have an ending. But, endings are subjective.

Re-read. Re-read.

The frequency of edits wanes. Punctuation ceases to draw your attention. All the options presented in the beginning of the story have been explored. The characters have gotten where they needed to go. Your edits are the only things you’re editing.

It’s time to start another story, but new stories lead to new details that accumulate into almost cohesive sections that could be added to your finished story to make it better.

Better, but different. Different and better. Maybe not better, but different.

You’ve finally gotten to know these characters, but your relationship with that story is over.

Sketching with Dialogue

2011-05-12T21:46:10Z

Dialogue creates white space and movement. I often use it to outline scenes.

At first, it is exciting. I can hear the conversation’s rhythm and volume. I know how the characters feel when they talk to each other and how they move. Intentions are obvious.

I’m not listening to people actually talking. This is all in my head. No green screen visual effects. Nothing visual, at all. I have no sense of their identity, appearance or location. I’m negligent with these details in real life so why would I expect more from my imagination?

All the concrete details which make a story accessible to a reader are missing. I have to do a lot of over-writing to figure out the characters. This is how the story eventually emerges.

Character appearance gets described based on how I feel the other character sees them. The describing character is in a particular mood. I can sense this from what they say. This process results in a more accurate character description for the story that what the character actually looks like.

I never care about eye color or chiseled jaws. I’m better at sensing than seeing. Details are meant for manipulation, at least in storytelling, but I would like to get better at seeing which is why I’ve taken drawing classes.

In drawing, white space and black space are visual equals. Dialogue demands the same equality, but shades of meaning and personality are a little harder to draw.

Going Coastal

2011-05-01T04:13:38Z

Highway 1, Northern California. 2010.

When holiday tension breaks, there is an immediate abundance of brutal honesty for the whole family, enough to go around and come around, because we love each other. This past Christmas, the family split into teams and left the house to get some perspective.

My niece and I headed north on Highway 1 taking pictures with my iPhone and making up different versions of Jingle Bells as sung by animals. She took this first shot because she liked the way the sun reflected off the water. I was probably doing my make-up in the rearview mirror while she took it.

Roadside Wave, Northern California. 2010.

We watched the weather change from second to second and stopped occasionally to compare the light and colors in the current moment with a few minutes ago.

She took a new picture every few seconds and switched hipstamatic lenses constantly. We agreed to drive with the window down, even in the rain.

Some of the more heroic shots prompted a Socratic conversation on whose fault it would be if we had to drive back and hopefully retrieve my phone from a cliff or ditch. I figured it would be my fault since I said it was okay. She agreed and ran me through the logic which might have made it her fault.

In the second shot, she said it was an amazing chance that she caught the wave. It was a difficult shot because the turn was wide and required the phone to be held pretty far out the window at the last minute.

We grew up on Lake Michigan and my niece is growing up on the Pacific Ocean. I know how living near the water changed us in ways we’re still understanding by comparison. I wonder how the ocean will change her.

Photos by Autumn Ossello & Text by Judith Ossello

Preparing a Story for Workshop

2011-04-29T06:35:03Z

I’ve got a month to get my next story in shape for this year’s Tin House Summer Workshop. I started last year’s story with dialogue. This year’s story started with a character.

I want to be on the brink of my writing ability when I go to the workshop. I figure I’ll get the best feedback if I get the story to the point of my own limitations. When I can’t possibly add or subtract without destroying or drastically changing the story, it’s ready. I’ve saved eight drafts in case I need to dig for lost sentences while I develop the character who is supposed to guide me through edits.

Other preparation includes the following:

I had my best reader give me a philosophical reading of the characters within the context of the story.
I read Mystery and Manners by Flannery O’Connor to humble and prepare me to take advice.
I posted a current draft in The Woodshed which is an online workshop hosted on Fictionaut.com. The Woodshed currently has 23 members and allows you to edit your draft between comments so each reader can comment on the most recent version. I received five comments in a week which was perfect for gaining some editing momentum and developing the characters a bit more.

At last year’s Tin House Summer Workshop, Charles D’Ambrosio told me to eliminate abstraction and focus on concrete writing. I also got some suggestions for more detail and a collection of reader reactions from the rest of the workshop participants which helped me fine-tune.

I’m not sure this story has a concrete foundation, but I know it’s way better than last year’s. Plus, I got up in the middle of the night with a great ending that should guide the middle section to align with the other parts.

The Mission Was The Mission

2011-08-12T03:48:10Z

Soccer on Cement, Mission District, San Francisco. 2011.

San Francisco changes you rather than changes for you. It has a strong personality without being stubborn. If you abide the coolness and avoid resentment, the city will surround you.

You walk around editing your experience, but you don’t really notice what it is doing to you. Some parts were clearly as dull and necessary as margins, but you get that Baltimore pocket feeling when you hit a place that feels right.

Gaucho at Amnesia, Mission District, San Francisco. 2011.

I went to the Mission District several times over two weeks to meet friends for dinner and shows. I mostly stayed within Valencia between 16th-24th.

When you step out of public transit at either end, you’re not overwhelmed with an “oh, my I’m in the Mission” feeling. At least, I wasn’t. I was like, where is the Mission? Left or right?

I got conflicting directions as well as a sense that people really didn’t want to tell me. It’s a street with a bunch of restaurants, not the Godfather, but whatever. I’ll admit to being two Gin’s into the night when I needed directions.

Either you’re early or you’re late. Everyone seems to show up at once which seemed to be around 7pm or so.

Tourists who show up to San Fran like they’re playing the home team will eventually succumb to its influence. They might try to dress a little better or maybe get out of their head for a few minutes to notice other people.

You become more of yourself which is cool, but don’t get all Kardashian about it. I saw some of that in Union Square.

Photos & Text by Judith Ossello

The Importance of Being Edited

2011-04-11T17:56:04Z

Writing and editing cannot be done simultaneously. Writing requires freedom. Editing requests boundaries.

Yet, a writer can spend a significant amount of time setting boundaries throughout the writing process based on feedback and guidance from others.

When Tracy Kidder came to Portland, he mostly talked about his editor of 40 years, Richard Todd. I will admit to being both jealous and appalled at the depth of their writing relationship, which crossed the line between what I felt should be the writer’s “inner voice” and the editors “guiding voice.” Todd seemed to direct the craft of writing while Kidder was a content hunter/gatherer.

My opinions are probably based on a lack of experience with writing for publication.

Editors often suggest changes after accepting a story. Salvatore Pane from Corium helped me get rid of some lingering abstraction which interfered with the story’s rhythm and challenged me to come up with a new ending. A few of my friends had commented on the ending not being so great so I wrote a new one which was used with the final version.

Pre-publication editing can be much more refined than workshop feedback which can and should break a story where it needs to be broken and reset; however, Cheston Knapp from Tin House said he will sometimes invest in a few editing rounds for certain stories with the caveat that the writer has presented their most final, best effort.

When you can’t find your next move, you may ask someone to read what you’ve done or send it off to a few places to see if they want it. I usually find several edits immediately after doing either which may mean I just need to send it to myself.

Most likely, there will be a few more edits needed before publication.

From the Ashes of Edits

2011-05-03T02:59:01Z

When certain characters grow out of the lines I’ve loved, I want to track down a character who can say them in the next story.

These things happen. You’ve designated clear boundaries, idiosyncrasies, and expectations for a character. The beginning of your story is your story. Then, another side of the character emerges somewhere in the middle and finds a better ending than the one you couldn’t think of.

So now, you have to figure out how to edit the beginning to be more consistent with the ending. You start to wonder what kind of character would say these lines. Where do they need to be? Who do they need to know? You’d be happy to arrange it all, if only you knew.

The next story will be your first attempt. It may fail, but it has a beginning.

Rarely, if ever, do I get an urge to meet someone who wrote what I read and loved; however, I will ruthlessly stalk a character willing to deliver some choice lines and possibly give me some more lines like them.

The story will be a negotiation. No losers. No winners. Maybe another story.