Journal writing about journal writing workshops

Let's face it, this blog is really just a public journal. I mostly talk about myself, my writing failures, successes, frustration, and inspiration. I guess this alone qualifies me to teach a journal writing workshop. I've been hosting such workshops at the San Antonio Public Library every six months, for teens and preteens who are interested in journal writing and want to know more about how to do it, and why they should bother.

Here's how these workshops go down:

After our introductions, I begin the workshop by telling the writers what I believe to be the benefits of journal writing. For me, journal writing offers the following:

• a record of life events (no worries about faulty memory)
• perspective on current situations, which allows me to decide what my goals are and what I need to change in my life
• distance from emotions
• safety (if I write or even draft a post, and I decide I don't want to share it, I never have to.) 
• proof of how far I've come
• a reason to write 

After this introduction (sales pitch), we trade our own journal writing practices, if any, and we get ready for the fun stuff. The prompts.

I only have one ground rule for my workshops, a rule inspired by Natalie Golderg's Writing Down to the Bones (a book I often use in my beginning writing classes at San Antonio Community College). Everyone is asked to respond to a specific prompt and let go; allow the mind to be free to wander on the page. I set a timer for 10 minutes, and the only rule is to keep the pen on the paper at all times. No stopping! Just keep the pen moving, Goldberg suggests, and I insist. I like this idea because it means the goal is to shut off the censor and let the writing itself take over.

It doesn't always work. Not the first time, anyway. But the second or third or fourth time, it works, and once it works, it continues to work a little easier each time you sit with pen and timer. If you stray from a prompt, so be it. If you end up writing a grocery list or a list of wishes, so be it. Just keep writing.

Okay, here are the prompts, a few of which I've actually used in workshops:

Past:

1. Food: Think about a family meal, a holiday or celebratory meal, and begin to write about what you ate. What did it taste like, smell like, were you a child and if so, did you get to sit at the same table as the adults? Were there other children there. Begin to write about the meal, and see where this memory takes you.
2. Aspirations: When you were ten years old, what did you think you'd become when you grew up? Why did you think this way, and did it turn out to be true?
3. Change of scenery: Write about a place you used to visit that no longer exists, a restaurant that has closed or a lot you used to walk through on your way home from school that is now a pizza place. 

Present:

1. How do you feel? Let it out.
2. Write about who you were two years ago and who you are today. What's changed? 
3. What did you dream about last night? Be as vivid as possible.

Future:

1. Aspirations: What do you expect your life to be like in 5 years? How about 10 years?
2. Fears: Let them out, and write your worst case scenario. Seeing our fears on paper, really written out, can make them far smaller.
3. Goals: Write what you need to change and how you plan to change it.

Lists:

1. Write a list, like this one, that recounts what you did to today: 1.) Woke up and hit the snooze button, 2.) Dog licked me in the eye, so I had to get up and walk him, 3.) Got the mail and found yet another envelope addressed to Elida. Who the hell is Elida?, 4.) Listened to Christmas music on the way to work. Stopped singing at the stoplight when the guy in the truck gave me that Texas serial killer look.
2. Write out a list of what you need to do this coming weekend.
3. Write your actual To-Do list and then the To-Do list you'd have if your life was exactly as you wanted it to be.

Roles:

1. Write about what you imagine your life would be like if you were a man (if you're a woman) or a woman (if you're a man), tall (if you're short), etc..
2. Write your ideal day/date/evening/family gathering.
3. Choose your own adventure: Explore on paper what it might have been like if you went overseas to teach, after all; if you decided against that MFA program you're currently paying off, if you went for that Art degree, despite your parents, or if you'd had/not had that elective surgery. You get the idea. What if you took the other path?

Inspiration:

1. Write about those family members, friends, or role models that keep you striving.
2. Write about what makes you happy each day, the little things such as the first cup of coffee or the good seat in Monday meetings.
3. What are you thankful for? In AA, there is the common practice of keeping a gratitude journal. This is kind of what we're going for here... write a sort of thanks-giving post. This is a very helpful tool for people who need to feel grounded or haven't taken the time to reflect on how far they've come.

So, pick one, write for ten minutes. Don't stop. If you go off-topic, so what? It's your journal.

In my workshops, I make the offer to those who want to share writing with others, and a few take me up on the opportunity. This is the beauty of journal writing. Sometimes excellent creative work, some damn funny reflection, or even new realizations, will come up and you'll want to share. But, you're not sitting down to write with the intention to share, so there's no pressure. That's the freedom!

I always look forward to these workshops. I'm holding one tomorrow. We usually only have time to complete three prompts, and it's just enough. A good half an hour of solid, non-stop writing; and then we all part ways with our journals a little fuller. Hopefully, we leave with a little more clarity on some aspect of our lives, even if this clarity comes from a simple scene from our past, perhaps how much we really disliked turkey as a child but ate it willingly on Thanksgiving because when it was served, the entire family became quiet and happy, if just for a moment.

Well, that was a nice warm-up. I'll be hosting a workshop tomorrow after work. Can you tell I'm excited? Have a good week. If you use any of these as catalysts to write, let me know how it goes. 

Don't Think About It, Jen

It's a wonderful thing that the process of publication has become more obtainable to the average Joe or Jane.  One needn't watch the nepotism of literary families from afar, reading some works with awe and others with a cinched brow, wondering why, and knowing that s/he will never infiltrate the circle, no matter the talent or drive.  Now, beginning outside of a circle is still tough, but doable.  Small publishers are finding lower costs and taking on new voices in a desire to find the next best thing.  And, if a writer is truly confident (and in a financial position to do so) s/he can even self-publish, which I suppose was always around but is now a more consumer-friendly process.

OK, so publishing is more obtainable.  This is good because it allows a greater variety of voices, not just the mentally tormented upper-class or literary namesakes.  BUT it also means that it can be very, very tempting to publish prematurely.  To write a book for the sole purpose of publication.  This, to me, is pointless.  Publication should be something to consider after the work is birthed, in my humble opinion, anyway.  Publication is a side effect, a privilege of having written a damn good story.

My point?  The art of writing can only be fully realized if it is done for it's own sake.  When I wrote Musical Chairs, I didn't think of publication because I didn't know it was an option.  I thought, the business would come later, if at all.

I'm talking to myself here.... Let me explain why:  I have a few hundred pages worth of short stories, and I've found the little devilish version of myself on my right shoulder, barking that I should work on it because it would be publish-worth sooner.  The little creative, angelic version, on the other hand, is telling me to work on Absurd Hunger, which won't be done for a year or two or three, because this is the project that consumes my artistic self right now and it is likewise a project that would be compromised if I abandon it for the short story collection, which promises sooner publication.  Absurd Hunger is a work I want to spend years on.  I want it to be exactly what I envision, not one word short, and I will follow my favorite writers' examples (Jeffrey Eugenides, Vladimir Nabokov, Jonathan Franzen and others who have not compromised their vision for the business, despite their opportunities to publish (I say this because of interviews I've read by these particular authors)) and work on it for ten years if I must, to get it where it needs to be (God, I hope it doesn't take ten years!) to ensure that it's wholly my own work and not the hodgepodge of my vision and an editor's over-worked hand.

I'll follow my writing instincts, but I just had to share... I figure if I write it publicly, I'll have to live up to it.  And, to acknowledge the distraction, the lure of publication, gives it less power.  I've rushed into things my whole life.  But right now, I don't have the luxury.  One day, perhaps I'll write full-time and won't have to make such difficult choices.  But for now, while I'm working full-time and writing on the side, it's a crucial choice.  Should I feed creativity or should I feed the dream of being a writer?  No easy choice, but I chose art.

Back to Basics

There seems two schools of thought on what makes a writer great: a strong education (self or institutionally-guided) or a sort of gift that, like height or a high metabolism, is something that you either have or don't.  I bring this up because I'm currently masterminding the syllabus for my first creative writing course, which will begin fall semester.

This particular course is an introduction to creative writing and it will encompass numerous genres, including drama, fiction, poetry and creative nonfiction.  Truthfully, this feels like play for me--it's so much fun to sift through endless literary shorts, to decide which works I want to include in my course reading.  I have a large compilation of works that I'll have to pare down a bit before fall, but I'm confident that the end result will be an eclectic collection that will appeal to a wide array of tastes and sensibilities.  But this is the easy part.

I have been putting off constructing the craft lessons and writing assignments because I figured this would be the cumbersome work.  Perhaps this is due to a slight bent toward the idea that to teach writing is a limited venture, after all, so much depends on voice and the writer's motivation, ability to create.  Creativity, I hate to say, can be exercised but not taught.

That said, I began today--I began putting together assignments that go back to basics: character development, types of conflict, ways to raise tension, how to avoid cliches, etc... And guess what?  I realized I hadn't really broken writing down to the basics in quite some time.  Not that I forgot the basics, but I just didn't think about them much.  I figured they were all just coming out, naturally.

As I sketch potential exercises for my students, I've found myself taking time to pause and reflect on my own works-in-progress with a newfound (re-found) focus.  So, for me, the education is not necessarily a formula to create a bestselling author or literary phenom, but it does contribute to the perspective I need to have to round out my own work.

Regardless of any creative gifts a writer has, the formula for a strong work will always be there.  X(believable narrative) + Y(defined conflict or topic) + Z (specific descriptions) = A complete work.  Experimental structures and the all-elusive 'voice' can take this simple formula and make it look more like calculus than simple algebra, but the basics will endure; and they can be taught.



                                                                                                         Kurt Vonnegut's story graph for Cinderella

The Climate of Creativity

I grew up in Ohio, where the weather is as unpredictable as the number of cows you might see driving to work each day. One thing is guranteed, however: each winter it will snow. Down parkas will be worn and driving conditions will be challenging.

Having lived in Texas for a while now, I have shed my winter skin, so to speak. My blood has thinned to the point that I find myself shivering in 50 degree weather. And yet, there is a part of me that has begun to miss the cold, ice and snow. I've found myself less productive at home, more liable to run out into the sunshine and throw a frisbee that my dog will watch soar away before staring up at me as if to ask, "Why the hell did you just do that?" I'm far more willing to go out with friends on a warm evening, not to mention the fact that there are far more festivals and outdoor activities that tempt me (never been much on skiing or sledding, though I do miss the Toboggan Run near Cleveland).


So, is there a negative correlation here between my ability to put out pages of writing and the warmer climate? I wonder this as I sit today, at my computer, blocked on a project that I had planned to finish by the end of the year. Curiously, on a cold day here (again, 50 degrees) I wrote more words than I had the preceding week.

I haven't found much in the way of research about this subject. Climate & Creativity, but I did find an article about Innovation (business speak for creativity) and climate from which I found a passage that alluded to the fact that yes, climate does impact creative output. Unfortunately, said article won't be cited here because it was incredibly vague.

The number of creative writers living on the East Coast is fuel for my argument. But then, California is a counter-argument. I'm going to investigate this further as Chris and I discuss where to move... Then again, it really all boils down to where we can find jobs and cheap housing. Art can't be created without food, after all. And student loans loom like the fattest, most ominous winter storm clouds, even here in San Antonio.