When Your Novel Gets Stuck – Consider Writing a Short-Story

I was writing. All kinds of things: articles, letters, amusing emails (my curse), and of course blog posts. Yet I was not finishing my novel. At the time, I happened to be in the library and picked up a biography about Raymond Carver. Carver is arguably the best short-story writer the U.S. ever produced. At the time of his death in 1988, he was compared to Anton Chekov. The guy was good, yet he never wrote a novel. The short-story was his form.
The biography was fascinating, and in it it described Carver’s main method of writing. He would draft his short stories long-hand on typing paper or legal pads. Generally, he would try and get the first draft down in one sitting, though longer stories might take three or four sessions of writing. Then Carver would sit the story aside for a bit, and work on something else. He’d come back to his hand written draft a few days later and go through it and make notes and corrections. Then he would type it up and revise as he went. Then, he’d revise again, and again, and again.
Carver once said that when he started putting back the punctuation he had already taken out, he figured the story was done. Early in his career, when he was studying writing under John Gardner at Chico State, he spent an entire term writing and revising one short-story. I was fascinated when I read this in his biography and I thought I’d give his method of short-story writing a try.
I sat down at the kitchen table away from my computer with a stack of slightly crumpled computer paper. I just started writing a story based on something that happened to me when I was nine or ten. I did not try for perfect prose, just to get it down and to write in the voice of that ten year-old kid that I was. It was fiction, but based on my experience. In the end, I was pleased with what I’d accomplished. I placed it aside for a couple days and then re-read it and while it wasn’t bad, I saw how I could improve it during the next step of typing and revising.
The funny thing was, now that I had written that short-story – actually completed a draft – I started to feel motivated to complete my novel draft with the same kind of idea about getting it down and then revising. Maybe it was the act of completing something that had the positive effect. Possibly, it was writing a different voice in a different genre that made the difference.
If you are stuck on a project as I was, try writing a short-story in a different voice, genre, POV, etc… This simple act of completing something can give you benefits you may not even be aware of. If you try this, let me know how it goes with a comment or an email.
Raymond Carver

Raymond Carver

Have you ever been working on a longer piece of writing, a novel for instance, and just gotten stuck or bogged down? This happened to me, recently, in fact. I had been working on a novel for more than a year and was on the downhill slope with the finish line clearly in sight. Yet, for some unknown reason I was finding it hard to get to my writing desk and finish. It seemed silly, really. I knew the characters, I understood what they all wanted and how they were in conflict, I even knew where the story was heading and had written a draft of the ending (this, by the way may have been my problem but more on that in a later post) but for some reason I just could not get the work done.

I was still writing, all kinds of things in fact: Articles, letters, amusing emails (my curse), and of course blog posts. Yet I was not finishing my novel. At the time, I happened to be in the library and picked up a biography about Raymond Carver. Carver is arguably the best short-story writer the U.S. ever produced. At the time of his death in 1988 he was compared to Anton Chekov. The guy was good, yet he never wrote a novel. The short-story was his form.

The biography was fascinating and in it it described Carver’s main method of writing. He would draft his short stories long-hand on typing paper or legal pads. Generally, he would try and get the first draft down in one sitting, though longer stories might take three or four sessions of writing. Then Carver would set the story aside for a bit and work on something else. He’d come back to his hand written draft a few days later and go through it and make notes and corrections. Later he would type it up and revise as he went. Then, he’d revise again, and again, and again.

Carver once said that when he started putting back the punctuation he had already taken out, he figured the story was done. Early in his career, when he was studying writing under John Gardner at Chico State, he spent an entire term writing and revising one short-story. I was fascinated when I read this in his biography and I thought I’d give his method of short-story writing a try.

I sat down at the kitchen table away from my computer with a stack of slightly crumpled computer paper. I just started writing a story based on something that happened to me when I was nine or ten. I did not try for perfect prose, just to get it down and to write in the voice of that ten year-old kid that I was. It was fiction, but based on my experience. In the end, I was pleased with what I’d accomplished. I placed it aside for a couple days and then re-read it and while it wasn’t bad, I saw how I could improve it during the next step of typing and revising.

The funny thing was, now that I had written that short-story – actually completed a draft – I started to feel motivated to complete my novel draft with the same kind of idea about getting it down and then revising. Maybe it was the act of completing something that had the positive effect. Possibly it was writing in a different voice or a different genre that made the difference. I’m not exactly sure, but it did make a difference.

If you are stuck on a project as I was, try writing a short-story in a different voice, genre, POV, etc… This simple act of completing something can give you benefits you may not even be aware of. If you try this, let me know how it goes with a comment or an email.

Stop by www-creative-writing-mfa.org for more ideas about writing and for information on writing programs.

How Much Structure Does a Writer Need?

Big Sur

Question: How much structure does a writer need?

Answer: Just enough to get the writing done.

Okay, that may be a bit flippant, but the point is that writing is a creative activity and some writers will require a lot of structure in their life and projects and others will require just a little structure. First, when we talk about structure let’s break that down into two distinct components and look at them one at a time. These components are:

1. How and when you write.

2. Your method of writing.

How and when you write is essentially your daily (hopefully it’s daily) practice of writing. It is easy to get distracted by the mundane issues of life: email, work, kids, an important NCIS or CSI episode… so establishing a routine is essential. Writers have to be self-motivated and self-structured, so if what you are doing now is not working for you, impose some structure. If you really want your writing life to take off, have a set time to write and make yourself sit down in a position to write whether or not you know what you are going to write. Keep showing up and be harsh with yourself when the thought arises, Oh, I will just check my email for a second… or, A cup of tea sure would be nice…

Your method of writing is also key and the amount of structure you require will depend on what you are working on and also on your specific temperament as a writer. Believe me, the best judge of what you need is you, and you already know if what you are doing is working. Some writers love detailed and full outlines. Whether they are using Randy Ingermanson’s Snowflake method or the outline they learned in Miss Willouby’s fifth grade class, these writers would panic if facing a blank page without a roadmap of where to go.

Then, there are other writers, Michael Chabon and myself come to mind (although Michael has apparently cracked the code better than I), who find outlines stifling. But, even us “seat of the pants” writers have an idea of where we are heading and benefit from a some structure even if the structure is just notes or musings in a journal or a free-flowing mindmap. The key here is to seek to understand what you as a writer need for structure, and if something is not working then try and impose more structure until you are getting the results that you want.

I am a big believer in adapting to the situation. If something isn’t working for you as a writer then try something else. In the end, do what works for you but a good rule is that if you seem stagnant or lost in your writing and are not getting the results you want then impose a little more structure. Keep imposing structure until you achieve the perfect balance for you.

Oh, and stop reading email and wait until you have a page written before you get the tea. You are really not that thirsty.

Writing While Not Writing

Alta in the old days

Alta in the old days

Recently I returned from a vacation of sorts. I live in the misty chill of the San Francisco Bay Area – on an island near San Francisco actually – but once a year I make a pilgrimage to Utah to ski with some high school friends from Florida. Florida and snow skiing seems a stretch, but it’s what we do. Mostly, these trips are just to hang out and ski, and as we have drifted apart in other ways, this is the one consistent annual event in all of our lives. In any case, long experience has taught me that there will be little creative writing done during the annual ski trip. There will be banter, drinking, over-eating, and of course skiing, but little writing.

Yet as I think back over the week just spent sitting in a Subaru named “Scoobie” on the way to Alta, Solitude, Brighton and Park City ski resorts, and the hours spent riding silent ski lifts through steady snowfalls, I see that the writing was never far away and that all my literary ambitions benefitted by the break. Routines for writers are good, don’t misunderstand that, but at times just getting away from the writing table gives you a new perspective on writing in general and on specific scenes in particular. Vida Winter, the fictional writer in The Thirteenth Tale tells her biographer, Margaret, that writing comes from the composting of the writer’s life. Well, a ski trip with friends you’ve known for over twenty years definitely is filled with compost – believe me on that one.

So don’t be afraid to take a break or go off on a little adventure and see what happens. Take along a notebook for writing down thoughts and imaginings (I’m never without one) but leave your expectations and plans at home and just see what happens. You may find that you do some of your best writing while not writing.

Writing Frees You

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Writing can set you free in more ways than you can imagine. I think that is why so many are drawn to write, whether in journals, letters to friends, or in works of fiction. Even essays and non-fiction writing can free you and take you away from the mundane world if you find that special word or phrase that brings your writing to life.

It’s true that writing is not always easy and you do not step through that “special doorway” into another world every time you sit down to write. There are many days that the words won’t come, days when writing is a true struggle. But those hard days are not the ones that keep us coming back – although there is some merit to fighting the good fight on days when writing is tough.

But what makes a person a writer is when they fall deeply into a piece of writing and the everyday world melts away. You are writing, and then suddenly you lose your sense of place and are more the writing than a person sitting in a chair writing something. What I am describing here is that moment when the words are just right and the images and ideas you are putting down on paper take on a life of their own… you, the writer, just seem to be along for the ride. This is a wonderful state to be in and it’s like magic. The words become more than just words and when you stop you realize you were lost in your own writing and more time has passed than you realized. Truly, like magic.

Those moments, the moments of magic, are what create writers. You discover that nothing else can quite give you the same feeling of accomplishment or take you to that magic place. Not everyone has this “gift”, the gift of writing, the calling of being a writer, but those of you who have it know exactly what I am talking about.

You are the writers.


Should You Apply for an MFA Program in Creative Writing?

Blog: Should You Apply for a MFA Program in Creative Writing?
Here’s the scenario: You have always wanted to become a writer and have considered getting a Master of Fine Arts (MFA) in creative writing but aren’t sure if you want to invest the time and money.
The question: Should I apply for an MFA program in creative writing?
The answer: It depends.
Instead of leaving it there, let’s examine this in detail and see if we can work through a process for making a good decision about whether or not an MFA program is right for you.
Creative writing (both fiction and creative non-fiction) is something that many of us want to do well, and if we can get paid for it, so much the better. While an MFA in creative writing is not required for success as a writer, focused study of the art and craft of writing will help most people. Of course, as I write this, there is a minority of writers – some with MFAs – who will say that an MFA program will hurt certain writers and detrimentally alter their specific style or creative uniqueness. While that may be true in a few cases, as a rule, most of us would benefit from focused training and awareness of writing that will come as part of an MFA program. An MFA program is a big investment in time (2-5 years depending on full or part-time attendance, and whether it is a traditional or low-residence program), and in money (from $15,000 – $35,000 for most programs).
In order to figure out if an MFA program is right for you, you have to seriously consider what your ultimate goal as a writer is. For example, an MFA in creative writing will benefit almost any writer in five ways:
1. It will make you feel like a writer and identify yourself as a writer. (This may actually be the most important thing an MFA program can do for a writer.)
2. You will have time to write, and you will in fact have external and internal deadlines imposed on you – you will have to produce material.
3. You will learn to give and receive well thought out criticism of a piece of poetry, fiction or creative non-fiction (depending on your program orientation).
4. Your writing will improve – if you work at it – because you will focus on improving your skill as a writer and will receive continuous, close feedback on how you are crafting specific work.
5. You will likely make some contacts through the program that may help you in submitting polished work, and, if this is your objective, finding employment in teaching or publishing.
Thus, most MFA programs will improve your writing and will give you a “terminal degree” that will allow you to either teach creative writing or work in publishing. A terminal degree means that the MFA is the accepted top-degree in the field of “creative writing”, and is the degree you need to teach at the college and university level. While there are a number of programs offering Ph.Ds in creative writing, the MFA is the mainstay and you don’t need a doctorate to teach or find employment.
All of the above are good things, and I would not want to talk anyone out of going down the MFA route if that is what they want, but if your goal in not academia or publishing work, then an MFA may not be the right route for you. There are as many (or more) successful writers without MFAs as there are with MFAs. Now, let’s examine some other routes to improving your writing that do not result in MFA degrees.
First, you have to examine where your specific level of writing is at, and what your weaknesses are. This critical self assessment will allow you to work to find training and mentorship outside of an MFA program to improve your skills. Options to improve your writing are many, but a few are:
Reading books on craft.
Attending short workshops and classes (either online or in person).
Attending a course in writing (this can be at a local college, community center, or a writing center.)
Finding a mentor who is a more experienced writer or an editor.
Joining or forming a critique group (this can be online or in person).
Write a lot and try and improve with each piece you write.
Let’s face it, MFA programs are expensive and they take time. But for some, they offer the structure and the time needed to improve your writing and reach your goals. However, if you have a modicum of self-discipline and the internal fortitude to critically assess your weaknesses, you can design a program of seminars, conferences, and classes to make similar improvements that you would in an MFA program.
Graduation from an MFA program does not guarantee success, but no creative endeavors does. An MFA program (and I caveat this with saying, a “good MFA program”) will offer a pre-packaged path to improve your writing and gain the confidence and contacts to get you started as a writer. That said, in the end, you still have to sit down and write. An MFA program won’t do this for you. You have to get your butt in the chair and put words down on paper or up on your computer screen.
In the end, the decision on attending an MFA program or working on your own to improve your writing is a very individual one. Every writers situation will be different. However, with some focused thought and self-analysis, you can make the decision that is right for you. If you found this article helpful or would like to hear more on this topic, let me know at info@colewriting.com.

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More great writing ideas are also at www.creative-writing-mfa.org.

Here’s the scenario: You have always wanted to become a writer and have considered getting a Master of Fine Arts (MFA) in creative writing but aren’t sure if you want to invest the time and money.

The question: Should I apply for an MFA program in creative writing?

The answer: It depends.

Instead of leaving it there, let’s examine this in detail and see if we can work through a process for making a good decision about whether or not an MFA program is right for you.

Creative writing (both fiction and creative non-fiction) is something that many of us want to do well, and if we can get paid for it, so much the better. While an MFA in creative writing is not required for success as a writer, focused study of the art and craft of writing will help most people. Of course, as I write this, there is a minority of writers – some with MFAs – who will say that an MFA program will hurt certain writers and detrimentally alter their specific style or creative uniqueness. While that may be true in a few cases, as a rule, most of us would benefit from focused training and awareness of writing that will come as part of an MFA program. An MFA program is a big investment in time (2-5 years depending on full or part-time attendance, and whether it is a traditional or low-residence program), and in money (from $15,000 – $35,000 for most programs).

In order to figure out if an MFA program is right for you, you have to seriously consider what your ultimate goal as a writer is. For example, an MFA in creative writing will benefit almost any writer in five ways:

1. It will make you feel like a writer and identify yourself as a writer. (This may actually be the most important thing an MFA program can do for a writer.)

2. You will have time to write, and you will in fact have external and internal deadlines imposed on you – you will have to produce material.

3. You will learn to give and receive well thought out criticism of a piece of poetry, fiction or creative non-fiction (depending on your program orientation).

4. Your writing will improve – if you work at it – because you will focus on improving your skill as a writer and will receive continuous, close feedback on how you are crafting specific work.

5. You will likely make some contacts through the program that may help you in submitting polished work, and, if this is your objective, finding employment in teaching or publishing.

Thus, most MFA programs will improve your writing and will give you a “terminal degree” that will allow you to either teach creative writing or work in publishing. A terminal degree means that the MFA is the accepted top-degree in the field of “creative writing”, and is the degree you need to teach at the college and university level. While there are a number of programs offering Ph.Ds in creative writing, the MFA is the mainstay and you don’t need a doctorate to teach or find employment.

All of the above are good things, and I would not want to talk anyone out of going down the MFA route if that is what they want, but if your goal in not academia or publishing work, then an MFA may not be the right route for you. There are as many (or more) successful writers without MFAs as there are with MFAs. Now, let’s examine some other routes to improving your writing that do not result in MFA degrees.

First, you have to examine critically, and as objectively as possible, where your specific level of writing is at, and what your weaknesses are. This critical self-assessment will allow you to work to find training and mentorship outside of an MFA program to improve your skills. Options to improve your writing are many, but a few are:

  • Reading books on craft.
  • Attending short workshops and classes (either online or in person).
  • Attending a course in writing (this can be at a local college, community center, or a writing center.)
  • Finding a mentor who is a more experienced writer or an editor.
  • Joining or forming a critique group (this can be online or in person).
  • Write a lot and try and improve with each piece you write.

Let’s face it, MFA programs are expensive and they take time. But for some, they offer the structure and the time needed to improve your writing and reach your goals. However, if you have a modicum of self-discipline and the internal fortitude to critically assess your weaknesses, you can design a program of seminars, conferences, and classes to make similar improvements that you would in an MFA program.

Graduation from an MFA program does not guarantee success, but no creative endeavors does. An MFA program (and I caveat this with saying, a “good MFA program”) will offer a pre-travelled path to improve your writing and gain the confidence and contacts to get you started as a writer. That said, in the end, you still have to sit down and write. An MFA program won’t do this for you. You have to get your butt in the chair and put words down on paper or up on your computer screen.

In the end, the decision on attending an MFA program or working on your own to improve your writing is a very individual one. Every writers situation will be different. However, with some focused thought and self-analysis, you can make the decision that is right for you. If you found this article helpful or would like to hear more on this topic, let me know at info@colewriting.com.