Wow! I think something about Story Club is magic. Or maybe it's just George. Several times, a Q & A have hit at the very moment something similar is happening here. This time, it is a story I wrote years ago, it was published in Prairie Schooner in the 80s, but there was always something about it that haunted me. A man goes berserk and slashes his wife almost to death. His young son runs to the nearest doctor, gets help and she is saved. And the boy is taken in by the doctor's family. Well, a few days ago, I took the incident and shook it up in a bag. This changed the cultural scene, the narrator. Suddenly, everyone in the story - except the boy - is using the others. To escape, to feel not guilty, to do 'the right thing,' to feel they are 'helping.' The the man comes clearer, in all his wants and missed opportunities, and his cruelty. But most of all, the boy, in whom the others see only "fear" and a quick brave act, has longings, love, deep understanding. Which the narrator sees only at the end. I hope, I hope I can pull it off. Thanks, George, as always.
Oh - Roseanne. You found me! That's so exciting. I'm so old and creaky now, I've heard of JStor but never looked into it. I'm working on the story I mentioned earlier. And I'm learning so much from George and from reading the comments and experiences of our group. It's funny - I'm still in kindergarten in some areas. I'm just learning how to interject some background without disrupting the flow of a narration. Really simple, but a nightmare for me for years.
JStor is a good resource, much easier to use than it used to be &, basically, free. As for old & creaky, those, to me, are each relative terms & largely a matter of definition. One of the many things I love about writing is that so long as you're more or less conscious, more or less upright, and can keep a firm-ish grip on a pencil, you can still do it. Not much else you can say that about!
It is such an incredible privilege to be in this group of writers and readers, led by such a great teacher-writer-reader, who is willing to to answer a question about preparation with : "I try to know as little as possible before starting," I am smiling from ear to ear. This removed so much burden from the "blank page" that haunts me at times. I of course understand the value of prep, of knowing your stuff before you walk out on the high wire. But the older I get, the more I appreciate when a master of craft says they like the not-knowing and the discovery.
I just re-read George’s answers to the question(s). OMG. I am so moved by the level of psychological and emotional insight in his answers and in this group. Best therapy group ever!
Lingering on this right now, about the House of Intuition: “That house, wow: it’s got more rooms and they are vast and empty and we have the place all to ourselves. In there, it’s total silence; it’s all up to us.”
I loved this answer! I’m a children’s book author and illustrator and for a while now, I’ve been doing what I call my “learn from the greats” study. I pick a great childrens book creator and read all their work and find out what I can about their process and life. Though I’ve learned a lot of principles from that, I would say the most important thing I’ve learned is that what all of these creators have in common is that they know themselves. They done the exploring of the house and ultimately looked inside themselves for their answers. They understand what they like and don’t like. This realization has helped me learn to trust myself as a creator more and more. Thanks for reminding me of all this today!
I started out with a plan, when I started my novel. Four chapters in, my characters pointed swords and knives at me and said, "Write what we tell you and nobody gets hurt." All that planning was out the window and it's been a wild ride for the last 8 chapters.
If your characters are kidnapping you raada, I think you’re a writer... lucky you on having such awesome characters. Go where they take you & enjoy the journey, bumps and all.
I’ve been a reader since almost the beginning on Substack, and I think this post was one of your most beautiful. Thank you, George, for the metaphorical houses especially -- those will stick with me, I can already tell.
I especially appreciate the idea that different stories (poems in my case) may require different methods. Or rather, come about in different ways. A sudden insight, a patient revision over many years, a particular form to constrain and foster inventiveness - I have used all of these. It's definitely good to know one's tendencies but I like knowing I can try different things, and very often it's the poem itself dictating my method.
Ooh, I love thinking about your different houses, George. I'm envisioning an entire neighborhood of writerly homes: Rational Knowledge, Skill Sharpening, Encouragement, a Vacation House, and many more—places all of worthy of visiting and all worthy of leaving behind when we head back up the hill to our homeplace: Intuition and Doing. BTW, I've been catching up on Story Club, having taken a hiatus since the beginning of "The Overcoat." Your guidance and the subsequent discussions have been fantastic, reminding me of all the pleasures of reading A SWIM IN THE POND IN THE RAIN WITH GEORGE (that's the new title, right?) among a small group of avid readers.
Thank you for this articulate, insightful question and response. In my consideration of Oates spending hours and days upon her treadmill planning out her novels, I cannot help but wonder about the moments of discovery and understanding that may not arise when "planning" per se but which are realized through the process of writing about the characters, etc. that have been so thoroughly dwelled upon. Is there not something gained in the process of writing itself that cannot be gathered in the stages of planning? As George mentioned, each writer comes to understand a certain unique process of their own, but I cannot help but raise a slight insistence that in the writing itself, something can be found.
When I recall the initial paragraphs of ‘Blonde’ I think that Carol Oates found her method: finding the right angle from which to tell her story is essential. I have the same approach. I throw away everything I write before I find the right angle. I need to be completely absorbed in my story in my head to find that right angle.
‘There came Death hurtling along the Boulevard in waning sepia light.
There came Death flying as in a children’s cartoon on a heavy unadorned messenger’s bicycle.
There came Death unerring. Death not to be dissuaded. Death-in-a-hurry. Death furiously pedaling. Death carrying a package marked ‘SPECIAL DELIVERY HANDLE WITH CARE’ in a sturdy wire basket behind his seat.’
I particularly like the part about writing being neurological work specific to the individual writer. It's so obviously true, and yet it flies in the face of standard advice given about the process of writing. As always, I appreciate your kind exploration of all questions.
I love this, leaving the Rational House and springing up the hill to the House of Intuition and Doing. I find that even when I get an idea for a story worked out in my head (usually when I'm driving, or in the shower, or walking the dog), it's almost always forgotten by the time I get back to my laptop. But if I have a mere beginning in mind, a character or an image, I can hold it more or less intact until it's time to write. Then it either goes and grows, or, more often, dribbles out to nothing, but at least it's a start.
I think there is something about writing that is mystical in a scientific sort of way. Or scientific in a mystical sort of way. Putting words down on paper is a way to put a thought out there so you can hold on to it, turn it over, study it, have a conversation with it. Our brains don’t do a good of holding more than 5-7 concepts in working memory at one time so it’s hard to develop complex ideas solely within our own heads. But putting the thought on paper, no matter how incomplete it is, let’s you engage with it more in-depth without fear of losing it. It’s like having a conversation with someone who happens to be yourself. Ultimately if the work is shared with others, the conversation may expand but is it really a different conversation? I don’t know.
Fuck man, I've been following your emails for a while but this one really stuck. What a beautiful way to sum up the difference between wanting to learn how to get there and the feeling you get when you realize you can chuck it all away and start on your own path. Maybe I'll be visiting "my own house" more often from now on. Namaste.
Yes, a lonely, highly personalized path. But one made a bit less lonely by Story Club. Hugs to you, George, for this lovely, perfect post (and so much else).
I am going to be a little picky here. It doesn’t really clash with anything that has been said, but I don’t read the Wharton quote as saying you have to know what’s going on before you put pen to paper. It seems to me to be saying that these things have to be considered before they are given to the reader. Which means the writing process could also be this method of thinking it through. It doesn’t say to me that this is prep work before the writing, but actually the necessary work to complete before the story is finished.
Thank you, Steve, for taking a step back here. I like your use of the word "consider." It suggests the writer not necessarily go headlong into the writing, might instead slow down a bit, take a more measured approach, in an effort to "listen" to what a nascent character is saying, getting to know them a bit more, before placing them in the action of the story....
Carol Oates’ method of getting mentally absorbed in her story and looking for the right angle before she starts writing simmers down to the same: some considerations need to be made before the story is ready to be released in the world. Some write their way through those considerations and some think their way through them.
I have a bag of writer's blocks, small cubes of painted wood on one face of which I write a new word, usually from something I am reading. On the next face is that words meaning, the next face it's etymology, one more turn reveals the use of that word in a sentence, often the sentence from which it came.
Today's writers block is Proclivity: inclination, propensity, tendency: from the Latin proclivitatem, from proclivus "prone to" (sloping, inclined,) Pro: forward + clivus: a slope. "The writer’s particular experience has presented her with specific hardships, proclivities, delights, and struggles."
(From this I will write a story, perhaps about the slippery slope of writing a story.)
"...up on the hill is an even bigger, more wondrous house: the House of Intuition and Doing." So wonderful!!!! (as many have said)
And yes it is thrilling to be "alone in the middle of a vast desert" needing to ignore all the advice we have enjoyed reading.
When I start a new story, the working title on the document is usually "I have no idea where this will go"--this seems to help me free things up and be open to anything.
Wow! I think something about Story Club is magic. Or maybe it's just George. Several times, a Q & A have hit at the very moment something similar is happening here. This time, it is a story I wrote years ago, it was published in Prairie Schooner in the 80s, but there was always something about it that haunted me. A man goes berserk and slashes his wife almost to death. His young son runs to the nearest doctor, gets help and she is saved. And the boy is taken in by the doctor's family. Well, a few days ago, I took the incident and shook it up in a bag. This changed the cultural scene, the narrator. Suddenly, everyone in the story - except the boy - is using the others. To escape, to feel not guilty, to do 'the right thing,' to feel they are 'helping.' The the man comes clearer, in all his wants and missed opportunities, and his cruelty. But most of all, the boy, in whom the others see only "fear" and a quick brave act, has longings, love, deep understanding. Which the narrator sees only at the end. I hope, I hope I can pull it off. Thanks, George, as always.
I hope you do, so I can read it!
Thanks, David! I hope I do too!
“Shook it up in a bag”
Love that metaphor. Thanks Sallie.
Do it I want to read it
Thanks, Gloria. I hope you get to!
Hey, Sallie, And there you are BASS 85 & 87. I have JStor so will look up.
Oh - Roseanne. You found me! That's so exciting. I'm so old and creaky now, I've heard of JStor but never looked into it. I'm working on the story I mentioned earlier. And I'm learning so much from George and from reading the comments and experiences of our group. It's funny - I'm still in kindergarten in some areas. I'm just learning how to interject some background without disrupting the flow of a narration. Really simple, but a nightmare for me for years.
JStor is a good resource, much easier to use than it used to be &, basically, free. As for old & creaky, those, to me, are each relative terms & largely a matter of definition. One of the many things I love about writing is that so long as you're more or less conscious, more or less upright, and can keep a firm-ish grip on a pencil, you can still do it. Not much else you can say that about!
Not a word! Thanks, Roseanne, I'll look into JStor.
This is so lovely and encouraging George. Thank you for writing it. Wishing everyone "a spring in our step as we sprint up the hill, heading home."
It is such an incredible privilege to be in this group of writers and readers, led by such a great teacher-writer-reader, who is willing to to answer a question about preparation with : "I try to know as little as possible before starting," I am smiling from ear to ear. This removed so much burden from the "blank page" that haunts me at times. I of course understand the value of prep, of knowing your stuff before you walk out on the high wire. But the older I get, the more I appreciate when a master of craft says they like the not-knowing and the discovery.
I just re-read George’s answers to the question(s). OMG. I am so moved by the level of psychological and emotional insight in his answers and in this group. Best therapy group ever!
Lingering on this right now, about the House of Intuition: “That house, wow: it’s got more rooms and they are vast and empty and we have the place all to ourselves. In there, it’s total silence; it’s all up to us.”
me too Kurt - thanks
I loved this answer! I’m a children’s book author and illustrator and for a while now, I’ve been doing what I call my “learn from the greats” study. I pick a great childrens book creator and read all their work and find out what I can about their process and life. Though I’ve learned a lot of principles from that, I would say the most important thing I’ve learned is that what all of these creators have in common is that they know themselves. They done the exploring of the house and ultimately looked inside themselves for their answers. They understand what they like and don’t like. This realization has helped me learn to trust myself as a creator more and more. Thanks for reminding me of all this today!
I started out with a plan, when I started my novel. Four chapters in, my characters pointed swords and knives at me and said, "Write what we tell you and nobody gets hurt." All that planning was out the window and it's been a wild ride for the last 8 chapters.
Not a writer, but writing nonetheless, I get kidnapped by characters every single time. Bag over head, the works..
If your characters are kidnapping you raada, I think you’re a writer... lucky you on having such awesome characters. Go where they take you & enjoy the journey, bumps and all.
I’ve been a reader since almost the beginning on Substack, and I think this post was one of your most beautiful. Thank you, George, for the metaphorical houses especially -- those will stick with me, I can already tell.
I especially appreciate the idea that different stories (poems in my case) may require different methods. Or rather, come about in different ways. A sudden insight, a patient revision over many years, a particular form to constrain and foster inventiveness - I have used all of these. It's definitely good to know one's tendencies but I like knowing I can try different things, and very often it's the poem itself dictating my method.
Ooh, I love thinking about your different houses, George. I'm envisioning an entire neighborhood of writerly homes: Rational Knowledge, Skill Sharpening, Encouragement, a Vacation House, and many more—places all of worthy of visiting and all worthy of leaving behind when we head back up the hill to our homeplace: Intuition and Doing. BTW, I've been catching up on Story Club, having taken a hiatus since the beginning of "The Overcoat." Your guidance and the subsequent discussions have been fantastic, reminding me of all the pleasures of reading A SWIM IN THE POND IN THE RAIN WITH GEORGE (that's the new title, right?) among a small group of avid readers.
Thank you for this articulate, insightful question and response. In my consideration of Oates spending hours and days upon her treadmill planning out her novels, I cannot help but wonder about the moments of discovery and understanding that may not arise when "planning" per se but which are realized through the process of writing about the characters, etc. that have been so thoroughly dwelled upon. Is there not something gained in the process of writing itself that cannot be gathered in the stages of planning? As George mentioned, each writer comes to understand a certain unique process of their own, but I cannot help but raise a slight insistence that in the writing itself, something can be found.
When I recall the initial paragraphs of ‘Blonde’ I think that Carol Oates found her method: finding the right angle from which to tell her story is essential. I have the same approach. I throw away everything I write before I find the right angle. I need to be completely absorbed in my story in my head to find that right angle.
‘There came Death hurtling along the Boulevard in waning sepia light.
There came Death flying as in a children’s cartoon on a heavy unadorned messenger’s bicycle.
There came Death unerring. Death not to be dissuaded. Death-in-a-hurry. Death furiously pedaling. Death carrying a package marked ‘SPECIAL DELIVERY HANDLE WITH CARE’ in a sturdy wire basket behind his seat.’
I particularly like the part about writing being neurological work specific to the individual writer. It's so obviously true, and yet it flies in the face of standard advice given about the process of writing. As always, I appreciate your kind exploration of all questions.
I love this, leaving the Rational House and springing up the hill to the House of Intuition and Doing. I find that even when I get an idea for a story worked out in my head (usually when I'm driving, or in the shower, or walking the dog), it's almost always forgotten by the time I get back to my laptop. But if I have a mere beginning in mind, a character or an image, I can hold it more or less intact until it's time to write. Then it either goes and grows, or, more often, dribbles out to nothing, but at least it's a start.
I think there is something about writing that is mystical in a scientific sort of way. Or scientific in a mystical sort of way. Putting words down on paper is a way to put a thought out there so you can hold on to it, turn it over, study it, have a conversation with it. Our brains don’t do a good of holding more than 5-7 concepts in working memory at one time so it’s hard to develop complex ideas solely within our own heads. But putting the thought on paper, no matter how incomplete it is, let’s you engage with it more in-depth without fear of losing it. It’s like having a conversation with someone who happens to be yourself. Ultimately if the work is shared with others, the conversation may expand but is it really a different conversation? I don’t know.
As someone with awful working memory, this description is going to help me understand something about my process. Thanks!
Fuck man, I've been following your emails for a while but this one really stuck. What a beautiful way to sum up the difference between wanting to learn how to get there and the feeling you get when you realize you can chuck it all away and start on your own path. Maybe I'll be visiting "my own house" more often from now on. Namaste.
Yes, a lonely, highly personalized path. But one made a bit less lonely by Story Club. Hugs to you, George, for this lovely, perfect post (and so much else).
I am going to be a little picky here. It doesn’t really clash with anything that has been said, but I don’t read the Wharton quote as saying you have to know what’s going on before you put pen to paper. It seems to me to be saying that these things have to be considered before they are given to the reader. Which means the writing process could also be this method of thinking it through. It doesn’t say to me that this is prep work before the writing, but actually the necessary work to complete before the story is finished.
Thank you, Steve, for taking a step back here. I like your use of the word "consider." It suggests the writer not necessarily go headlong into the writing, might instead slow down a bit, take a more measured approach, in an effort to "listen" to what a nascent character is saying, getting to know them a bit more, before placing them in the action of the story....
That sounds like a good approach.
Carol Oates’ method of getting mentally absorbed in her story and looking for the right angle before she starts writing simmers down to the same: some considerations need to be made before the story is ready to be released in the world. Some write their way through those considerations and some think their way through them.
So she’s a thinker througher.
I'll write a book: Are you thinker througher or a writer througher? Best writing advice of your life.
I’d buy it!
My god sir that's good!
I have a bag of writer's blocks, small cubes of painted wood on one face of which I write a new word, usually from something I am reading. On the next face is that words meaning, the next face it's etymology, one more turn reveals the use of that word in a sentence, often the sentence from which it came.
Today's writers block is Proclivity: inclination, propensity, tendency: from the Latin proclivitatem, from proclivus "prone to" (sloping, inclined,) Pro: forward + clivus: a slope. "The writer’s particular experience has presented her with specific hardships, proclivities, delights, and struggles."
(From this I will write a story, perhaps about the slippery slope of writing a story.)
"...up on the hill is an even bigger, more wondrous house: the House of Intuition and Doing." So wonderful!!!! (as many have said)
And yes it is thrilling to be "alone in the middle of a vast desert" needing to ignore all the advice we have enjoyed reading.
When I start a new story, the working title on the document is usually "I have no idea where this will go"--this seems to help me free things up and be open to anything.
I have found that an event can fit several emotional scenarios. And figuring out how to make those happen is enough to keep me breathing!