Perspectives on Perspective

For those of you who missed last night's session, or for those of you who wish to re-live it in the privacy of your own home, here's the exercise in perspective we craft-shopped. The idea is to re-write the (admittedly kind of silly) selection from a different narrative perspective. The only restriction is that you adhere to the scenario established. The effect of the shift in point-of-view is often more dramatic than you may expect and the material you generate may very well prove useful to you in your own work.

Third Person Limited, Close

Martin went into the bank with purpose. Get in and get out. That was his aim. He needed to make a deposit, check his account balance, and then maybe inquire after the young blonde who usually worked the drive-up window. He was curious to know where she'd been, that was all. It wasn't important. He'd simply grown used to her presence and wondered after her. It would be a casual thing, his asking. He picked an old woman teller because they were easier to approach about these things and just as he was pocketing his receipts and she was thanking him for his business, he asked. The woman frowned. "Do you really want to know?" she said. Martin was really very busy. He'’d only allotted a minute or two in his day for this portion of the transaction and yet he found himself leaning conspiratorially into the marbled ledge of the teller window. "Yes," he said. "Of course I do. What'’s happened?" There was a flutter in the woman's face that suggested tragedy to him. He saw the young woman's body flung up and over a speeding car, he saw her mugged in the bank'’s parking lot and thrown limp into a dumpster. She had a boyfriend, he knew it, a lout. She should have left him long ago, but she was in love and it had been then end of her. If he'd met her sooner, he felt, Martin could have helped her. With the power of his love, he could have redeemed her of anything. Even heroin, maybe. At least smoking. "You're sure you want to know?" said the old woman, her hand dandying a bank pen on a metal string. "Yes," said Martin. He steadied the swing of the pen to demonstrate his seriousness. "She's out to lunch, you pervert," said the woman.

So it's Tuesday and I totally blew the deadline I set for myself to post these by midnight Monday. I should have known better than to set myself up. But then the guilt got to me, so I guess it worked after all, just a day later than I said it would.

Here are the answers to the questionnaire. I thought they were more powerful lumped together and anonymous. Thanks to everyone who contributed your thoughts -- I'm looking forward to seeing you all again Thursday.

Best,
Stephanie

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What is the gift you are offering this workshop today?

My vulnerability
My thanks, commitment, and fearlessness
Me. Um…I want to try to be engaging and compassionate, mostly.
The experience of a black male trying to make a difference by expressing his thoughts and teaching through example
Pizza and my presence
I am not sure yet
Time listening, helps
Networking from the ground up
Writing of poems, short stories, novels
My time, my thoughts, commiseration, encouragement

What do you hope to take away from this workshop today?

Energy and the impetus to write more
Always kernels of truth, whether universal, for the speaker, or for me
I want to walk out a better, more motivated writer.
I would like to take the experience of as many different people as I can
Inspiration for creating and a stronger connection to the community at the InkTank Writers Salon
Hope to find someone to answer my one-page questionnaire
Help in writing
Visions of others
Open ideas to cultivate a hidden writing skill
Whatever I can – new ideas, different viewpoints, specifics about how others write/view writing

Where do you get your writing ideas?

Walking, reading, listening: overhead snippets of conversation
Mostly from combining stimuli. My emotions, people I meet, things I see
Hate to say it, but my brain is videogame/fantasy/horror saturated to the point of busting.
Dreams, the people I meet at the coffee shop, characters in my family
Personal experiences and observations
Real life stories
Life, strangers, people, God, family
At this time spiritual?
Work, home, other novels, poems, people
Everywhere -- anywhere

What stops you from writing?

I wish I knew. The inner critic telling me that everything I write is terrible – or too mean
Self loathing
Videogames. On a deeper level, fear of failure.
Having too many ideas
Fear of criticism and self-doubt
Dinner on the table
Knowing I have a lot to write, or a sad experience to come.
Feel bad, and being on the run.
Time
Lack of discipline, internal editor (that negative voice sometimes cruelly intruding)

What stops you from sharing your writing?

Fear of hurting anyone, revealing too much, not being understood
Nothing. I ask everybody.
See above. (Fear of failure)
Finding the correct forum to share it
Thinking it isn’t good enough
Not good enough
Unknown at this time
Nothing. I want to share with everyone
“It’s not ready”

How do you stop procrastinating?

Plant myself in front of the computer, give myself space
The desire has to build up. If I don’t write, it’s because I must not have anything important to say.
By writing. It’s simple. There is no trick.
Like Nike, just do it
Action without analysis
Never do…
Do exercises in writing
Think I’m lazy
Just start doing what I am supposed to do. Sometimes by self motivating or setting goals
Sit down and write. Make the time. Remember how important writing is to me.

What do you hope to get from a critique?

Detailed, useful feedback, what works and what doesn’t
Reaction to the relatability of the material/characters. A reality check.
Insight in every aspect of my writing: story, character, diction, everything.
The viewpoint of others, I tend to be a bit biased about my own work
Constructive technical corrections, alternative approaches to a piece, and support for continuing to keep writing even if the presented piece is trash
Learn
Ideas
Depends?
A direction in which I am supposed to go and stick to it.
Constructive criticism. Gentle (I hope) honest assessment

What do you fear from a critique?

Vague feedback, disinterest more than rejection, stuff like, “you write like an angel”
People saying things just to sound intelligent. Posing.
I think I fear rejection, but I don’t really. Rejection would just make me defend my writing, grow closer to my work.
I fear that the critique would not truly express what the critiquer wants to say
Indifference
I don’t
Opening up. Being exposed
Depends?
That I might not like some of the things coming out. However I know it is for my own good.
I try to be open to what’s said – and not be afraid of opinions – it’s my choice to accept or decline what’s offered

Where are your favorite places to write and why?

My study – music loud as I want, big window; bars and coffeeshops – casual outside stimuli
Kaldi’s. Cafes. I like people, noise, energy, smells, fear, emotions – life. I block it out but soak it in and feel it.
In a coffee shop, away from TVs, computers
Coffee Emporium, Cooper’s on Main, crowded places. I love people watching
My apartment – I’ve got everything set up just the way I like it/anywhere with a structured group – it’s energizing to all be writing together
In front of my computer; tools help…
Around water, bedroom, being by myself helps me to write and for my thoughts to flow
Quiet places mind wanders
My room, work, parks, beaches. I can see clearer and my mind is free. My stories come from these places.
Home at my desk/wherever I am when ideas/words/thoughts come to me

What would you like in a communal writing environment? (For instance: music or silence?)

Music – but what kind?
Music
Silence. Availability
I would like an atmosphere that is not inhibited with embarrassment and that thrives off the vitality of each member. Whether that calls for silence or music, either is fine.
Depends on my mood or what’s being written about. I’d like to try various ways: Heavy Metal music and flashing lights. Quiet or soft music with candlelight with incense, and any others.
Sometimes I will do either or.
Silence, but I can adjust
Music, if it is mind flowing. Otherwise silence for it helps me to think clearer.
Silence

Other comments:

Like churches have prayer requests, maybe we could have a writing/reading request of some sort.
No intros except for new people. It’s up to us to welcome them in.
I want to motivate. I want to be motivated.
Started writing Nov. 2005
I am intrigued by the talent that is here at InkTank and I am enjoying the flow of energy that is here.
I’m grateful for the opportunity to be in community with other writers.

Workshop Nuts & Bolts:

It seems very likely to me that we’ll come upon our own ideas of how we’d like our workshops to proceed, but for now let’s stick to something tried and true. I’m working now from the model most sound in my experience:

We will begin each workshop by listening to the writer, who will read from his or her own work. It’s helpful to hear the text vocalized according to the writer’s intent – it gives us a sense of voice we may not otherwise have had. The writer may choose to read the entire work (if it’s pretty short) or a few pages (if it’s pretty long). And that’s the last we’ll hear of the writer during the critique of the story. It is absolutely imperative that the writer listen to the conversation from that point on without participating. This will ensure that the members of the group feel safe entering the discussion. They simply won’t if they must worry about addressing the writer – the focus should always be the story. This may be difficult for some writers. The difficulty soon subsides. Trust me.

Next, a volunteer (perhaps someone whose work will also be up that evening) will begin the critique. It’s not a bad idea to start with a positive. Then, we’ll all join in. Try to explain yourself in a way that might allow the writer to understand your experience of reading the story and understand you as an earnest person. Details will assist you in achieving this goal. Mark freely but conscientiously on manuscripts. It is frequently the case that in seeing our stories we lose sight of them. That’s why comments and notes on manuscripts are so important. But let’s please not be petty. A word of advice: read the story through at least once before commenting upon it. Remember to sign or initial your copy of the story before returning it.

Finally, at the end of the workshop, the writer will have the opportunity to ask questions. (This time should not be mistaken as an opportunity to defend or explain the story.)

The Rules of the Game:

When we enter the workshop, we agree to certain conditions. The most important is that we always give as much as we get. If we expect our work to receive the group’s attention, we must be certain to give an equal share of our time to the work of others. Another important condition is that we always maintain a courteous tone. Our conversations about the stories up for workshop will be casual, but invested. We will make an effort not to silence others and not to be silent ourselves. Learning to frame commentary that extends beyond mere matters of taste (as in liking one character or another, or being fond of a particular turn of phrase) in a way that reaches the writer as supportive criticism, rather than negative criticism, will always be a challenge. The struggle to do so will make a better writer and a better reader out of you. Of that much, I can promise you. Let’s agree now to these conditions. If we don’t, there will be trouble.

A Few Opening Remarks:

That we are writers is a given. (Perhaps you don’t yet think of yourself in this way, but the fact that you are here demonstrates (at least) your affiliation for storytelling, if not also your good taste in company.) As members of the InkTank writing workshop, our aim will be to become good readers for each other. Much of our time together will be spent struggling to articulate in an honest and sensitive manner what it is that we understand to be taking place on the page. It isn’t always easy to say what you think you see. And it’s even harder to say it in a way that is lucid and helpful. But we’re all here because we’re writers, because we’re storytellers, because we have something to say. Let’s find the best way to do this. Let’s be generous of our attention and energy.

Here’s my plan: I want to say of this group that we have conversations that teach me something (large or small) about how stories work. And I want to say of your stories that they teach me something about the world, something I didn’t know before and probably wouldn’t. I’d like to know your plan. It matters that we be aware of our expectations here.

A Lot of Storytelling

“The writer must persuade you that if you don’t listen, he’ll die, and if you listen, he’ll save your life, and if you don’t listen you’ll die a lot harder—there’s the exchange”
Gordon Lish

“I write out of a greed for lives and language. A need to listen to the orchestra of living.”
Barry Hannah

“The writer will go anywhere, say anything to get it said; in fact, the writer is bent on doing so. The writer is bent.”
Jayne Anne Phillips

“I think a lot of storytelling comes from ‘I want to tell you something.’ Almost all stories come from that. From the very first time you walk into a house and say, ‘I want to tell you something.’”
Grace Paley