tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9712023476560957702024-03-13T10:35:12.081-07:00Create If Writhing: Fiction"A beginning, a muddle and an end." —Philip Larkin
gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.comBlogger85125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-59401458975765202102023-12-03T18:19:00.000-08:002023-12-03T18:19:46.985-08:00OCEAN<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfaasyItkHbB08HE8mfIxfB4X9KWMPm-M3KSdsjcRMYaBYR2lTDsoSOzuaHZbkGO-0iaAVEmT0OHqVnZxQ8-pVrqfto1YJbd52ElsDzVKVHgxZpnl3mHCZLl_1_OCgkmCX00PmPlX1zYZcntsCt7LodL-xBDLGOIoGTNYIOuH7GkIkMII8hOe3vZr0BrY/s2283/speech%20balloon%20escher%20red.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2098" data-original-width="2283" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfaasyItkHbB08HE8mfIxfB4X9KWMPm-M3KSdsjcRMYaBYR2lTDsoSOzuaHZbkGO-0iaAVEmT0OHqVnZxQ8-pVrqfto1YJbd52ElsDzVKVHgxZpnl3mHCZLl_1_OCgkmCX00PmPlX1zYZcntsCt7LodL-xBDLGOIoGTNYIOuH7GkIkMII8hOe3vZr0BrY/s320/speech%20balloon%20escher%20red.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>The story I write explains how the future contains a small box the size that might hold a wedding ring. But inside this box is no ring, instead, a nipple. Perfect red raspberry rising from the pink galaxy of its areola. I do not know if it is the left or right only that it is from one whom I love. Think of the difficult borders of nations. Wind rustling trees, moving through fields, over dunes, has a source just as rivers have a source. I carry this box with me always as a guide, a token, a relic. The sound of the ocean in a shell, but which ocean? </p><div><br /></div>gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-48544887574070508822022-04-24T08:03:00.001-07:002022-04-24T08:03:06.537-07:00writing VVVVVVVOICE<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIoOCxUiN1tYryJaaLGpDoa4wr1UEYuyf_pRaLHLuM6VPRuzG2labpkJks-3rzAly6xYNkyQhGeqJbUSgQrP2Fwjqyz0ZPegSPo4YmqNCHdAmluEoHK8jrJhWS7ziqdgu0nXLe9rTQN8iN8-WNF3jlQD-nhzclViHp_Lq1TzXw0bX53_HZH94jocfqA/s2408/Screen%20Shot%202022-04-24%20at%2011.02.21%20AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1220" data-original-width="2408" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIoOCxUiN1tYryJaaLGpDoa4wr1UEYuyf_pRaLHLuM6VPRuzG2labpkJks-3rzAly6xYNkyQhGeqJbUSgQrP2Fwjqyz0ZPegSPo4YmqNCHdAmluEoHK8jrJhWS7ziqdgu0nXLe9rTQN8iN8-WNF3jlQD-nhzclViHp_Lq1TzXw0bX53_HZH94jocfqA/w506-h256/Screen%20Shot%202022-04-24%20at%2011.02.21%20AM.png" width="506" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>A link to the Writing Voice PowerPoint for the GritLit Workshop I gave on voice on April 24, 2022.</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1th3P7MrdxbjrqTq6WDzSEG5VQt9eEPA0/view?usp=sharing">https://drive.google.com/file/d/1th3P7MrdxbjrqTq6WDzSEG5VQt9eEPA0/view?usp=sharing</a></p>gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-48131278607221747362021-04-16T14:14:00.004-07:002021-04-16T14:14:30.205-07:00Writing History: London is on Fyre and I've got this Expensive Spikey Fruit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNbxDFe23Mk2NUx7y75wHt9PbwuhvnG6zCiX3wgQlM6QJAgxlmbeKP9WH3kMxapFvyivzz11GFtZtjHkxw5UZCtOjgACegCFayfpCxkvRVohf3UtBGnA7P4fWwOSg4kilrguieB1xs9CXS/s300/LONDON+IN+ON+FIRE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="369" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNbxDFe23Mk2NUx7y75wHt9PbwuhvnG6zCiX3wgQlM6QJAgxlmbeKP9WH3kMxapFvyivzz11GFtZtjHkxw5UZCtOjgACegCFayfpCxkvRVohf3UtBGnA7P4fWwOSg4kilrguieB1xs9CXS/w659-h369/LONDON+IN+ON+FIRE.jpg" width="659" /></a></div><p>Here is a link to a Powerpoint presentation for a workshop on writing history given for the GritLit Festival, April 2021.</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.dropbox.com/s/q2mp9tyfw3tkp8r/WRITING%20HISTORY.pdf?dl=0"><span style="font-size: large;">Writing History Presentation</span></a></p>gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-22710787650032893242019-03-07T14:10:00.002-08:002019-03-07T14:10:25.031-08:00Sample first person voices<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ec1LF9lIZkT1e9BHc8vPQFEdIHrVpdmyaGM4gEyna4DMXwOjRYlLBj-Y2k6GM3m21N9mCsvg8BFrw1q3-_LA73JEayYd8oVyd6dej3_ATJdAeSRPNdAAx3KR3k3KlmLLT9VShS98qyI5/s1600/IMG_2744.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ec1LF9lIZkT1e9BHc8vPQFEdIHrVpdmyaGM4gEyna4DMXwOjRYlLBj-Y2k6GM3m21N9mCsvg8BFrw1q3-_LA73JEayYd8oVyd6dej3_ATJdAeSRPNdAAx3KR3k3KlmLLT9VShS98qyI5/s400/IMG_2744.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEVP2K6KdnLQRbj4YkTt7HEvVLEhgcGyOt8Vjo7KsXeGpgstGukw2LAS_49tgde1KDTA7EqMc4ZvrIE8M1attHpzjg9WBgUrAJUtq63J8L7MXIWx_OH_tUoq_HwVjDPQn2gSj9NLIy-Thm/s1600/IMG_2746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEVP2K6KdnLQRbj4YkTt7HEvVLEhgcGyOt8Vjo7KsXeGpgstGukw2LAS_49tgde1KDTA7EqMc4ZvrIE8M1attHpzjg9WBgUrAJUtq63J8L7MXIWx_OH_tUoq_HwVjDPQn2gSj9NLIy-Thm/s400/IMG_2746.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6J3Qaw0V4BgZKDso0bINBgCRB7bMg16g0Z677zYDIcDymQEPnmqbU5-FjJl-bMYID5Zgk53JGn4_kmjn4meGWdklTvEjh9cD6Di-JNSCj1IqER51Oga2UQ3DdSpbj8Z_NqXYlUgZTEmTO/s1600/IMG_2747.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6J3Qaw0V4BgZKDso0bINBgCRB7bMg16g0Z677zYDIcDymQEPnmqbU5-FjJl-bMYID5Zgk53JGn4_kmjn4meGWdklTvEjh9cD6Di-JNSCj1IqER51Oga2UQ3DdSpbj8Z_NqXYlUgZTEmTO/s400/IMG_2747.jpg" width="300" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />1. Charles Portis, <i>True Grit</i><br />2. Paul Beatty, <i>The Sellout</i><br />3. Mona Awad, <i>13 Ways of Looking at a Fat Girl</i></div>
<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-9006526641225488022018-12-05T07:52:00.000-08:002018-12-05T07:57:03.751-08:00Final class: some thoughts and writing activities<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Jr3Mli0ky6D4fODuXBFJWKeM_nSf97r4coZNjQJR8VNOEl28WsTqLoKh478ZkTDO0TxurbAI1rC3Cf33V8l22TEEl2_BCLd2gQ1f_IsfmtPy8_l7uIe18B9dV94MifIBdO4dCyyHrxZU/s1600/hanukkah+deer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="944" data-original-width="679" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Jr3Mli0ky6D4fODuXBFJWKeM_nSf97r4coZNjQJR8VNOEl28WsTqLoKh478ZkTDO0TxurbAI1rC3Cf33V8l22TEEl2_BCLd2gQ1f_IsfmtPy8_l7uIe18B9dV94MifIBdO4dCyyHrxZU/s320/hanukkah+deer.jpg" width="230" /></a></div>
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<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>SINGLE LINES<br />
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</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>When I am ruler of the world…<br />
</b></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="s1">
<b>GROUP WRITING:<br />
</b><br />
Two people write approximately five lines about two characters (from character list)</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">These two people join together with other two other people. They combine their lines using a transition. Adjust the paragraphs to fit.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1">Then these four people find four others and repeat.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Then read.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>Some transitions:<br />
</b><br />
At the same time</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Across the city, province, country, galaxy</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">On the other side of the desert, city, universe, house, room, coffeeshop, forest</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">For two weeks</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">Meanwhile <br />
Afterwards<br />
Previously (unknown to them)</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">They didn’t know that</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">At night</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">For months they did not visit, see, plan, etc.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">In the morning, the next morning, one morning years from then</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">After lunch</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">The next day</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">Later that evening</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">When the sun sank</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">The following Tuesday, the following century</span></div>
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<span class="s1">The previous day, week, year, century, millenium, world</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">A week later</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Months passed</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">At the appointed time</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">The next time they met</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">When they arrived home</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">As they approached</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">In the year 2004</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">It took a month, but</span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1">On the first sunny day</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Later</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">*</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"><br /><b>WRITE TO THE END</b><br /><br />Write the scene that goes before one of these:</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"Up out of the lampshade, startled by the overhead light, flew a large nocturnal butterfly that began circling the room. The strains of the piano and violin rose up weakly from below.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"Oh, my girls, however long you may live, I never can wish you a greater happiness than this."</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">could be done about it, and if you can't fix it, you've got to stand it."</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"After all, tomorrow is another day.”</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">‘So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"He turned out the light and went into his/her room. (S)he would be there all night, and (s)he would be there when (s)he waked up in the morning.</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"The eyes and faces all turned themselves towards me, and guiding myself by them, as by a magical thread, I stepped into the room.”</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which.”</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"The old man was dreaming about the lions.”</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"Whatever our struggles and triumphs, however we may suffer them, all too soon they bleed into a wash, just like watery ink on paper.”</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. She was both.”</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"In the meantime, she would just live.”</span></div>
<div class="p3" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">"It's funny. Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.”</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">“O God, You've done enough, You've robbed me of enough, I'm too tired and old to learn to love, leave me alone forever."</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"><br />(https://www.stylist.co.uk/books/the-best-100-closing-lines-from-books/123681)<br />*<br /><b>WRITE DIALOGUE</b><br /><br />In a group of 1-3, write some dialogue--a conversation between the group. Each person take one voice.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">*<br /><br /><b>SHEILA HETI's flip a coin exercise.</b></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">Ask questions of yourself about your writing project and flip a coin to find out the answer. </span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">Adapted: A</span>sk questions about a character/story</div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">You can flip the coin after each question and then determine the next question or just make a list of questions and then flip.</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">Did John love Jane?</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">Did Jane love John?</span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">Is the world going to end?<br />Before they meet?</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">
<span class="s1">*<br /><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><span style="font-family: "garamond";">What now?</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Sources of inspiration. Ekphrastic writing, phrases, characters, settings, notebooks, constraint, what if, something you know that others don't...</span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p4">
Sheila Heti's writing project: listening.</div>
<div class="p4">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Creating projects for yourself<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Finding writing groups or starting one<br />
<br />
Your own voice.<br />
<br />
Writing for different ages.</span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Publishing follow-up.</span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Using other media.<br />Video stories: stories with music.</span></div>
<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-1256934153370465502018-12-03T09:09:00.001-08:002018-12-03T09:09:02.570-08:00Publishing and also: the Small Press<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQh00UVFYSDcCEDuFNUyGDzK3xccFjkes_P1G_frpYFGrLQGTcGrs9hxwgAWFufNgfOVCPpBCpK63Uf_dw8jSZbGXJh3bjeAtE97lMA3iscp0tcZ0y3kvMg0QpSEzUzORunQtL5zZtxZN/s1600/do+not+write+on+trees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="1600" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQh00UVFYSDcCEDuFNUyGDzK3xccFjkes_P1G_frpYFGrLQGTcGrs9hxwgAWFufNgfOVCPpBCpK63Uf_dw8jSZbGXJh3bjeAtE97lMA3iscp0tcZ0y3kvMg0QpSEzUzORunQtL5zZtxZN/s400/do+not+write+on+trees.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br /><br /><br />
<br />
<a href="https://ministryofpoetry.blogspot.com/2013/12/class-12-publishing.html">On publishing</a><br />
<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://ministryofpoetry.blogspot.com/2013/11/class-11-on-chapbooks-broadsides.html">Chapbooks and other small presseries:</a><br />
<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-81580263774585015322018-11-28T10:44:00.004-08:002018-11-28T10:52:52.004-08:00Instagram Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_XYGOiACgx_R25QaTbTANq6aJ0sQvIKjg-FG8t1avK1Z_UiiaGpbm5dMSek9VtgYdcFNquFJoawFpGW22uxLKnEB4B8f_SyXumFLe1HukbrdMCPATHQ06bizrPs_-Tv8d1GQfGCvqIf7/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-28+at+1.43.29+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1032" data-original-width="1600" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_XYGOiACgx_R25QaTbTANq6aJ0sQvIKjg-FG8t1avK1Z_UiiaGpbm5dMSek9VtgYdcFNquFJoawFpGW22uxLKnEB4B8f_SyXumFLe1HukbrdMCPATHQ06bizrPs_-Tv8d1GQfGCvqIf7/s320/Screen+Shot+2018-11-28+at+1.43.29+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Every night at 5, George left his job at the technology park and headed to his car. He would walk across the parking lot to section C2 which was designated for employees in his tier. When he had started, back in the late 80’s, he had been division H. A lot had changed since then. Back then he was still living with his parents and borrowing his mom’s car to get to work. Now he drives a 2012 Lincoln, almost paid off, and owns a small home in Wolcott. A neighborhood just west of the city. He’s worked hard to forge a decent salary. He was never late and never left early. Rarely had he used all his vacation days. He didn’t really know what to do with them. There had been no girlfriends. A few dates with girls from work had only amounted to unreturned phone calls and awkward lunch breaks. George was alone. In fact he was lonely. His mother was worried about him. This irritated him. Last month while driving home from Latham, he’d pulled over at a diner off Route 90. He had to pee. He felt awkward just walking in and using the restroom and so he ordered a coffee and sat at a table by the window near his parked car. The waitress had been friendly. Her name tag read: Ashley. Ashley had strawberry blonde hair and freckles and made George awkward when she said ‘A big, strong man like you needs somethin’ more than coffee’. In fact George wasn’t a big strong man at all. He was self conscious of his small frame. Even his hands were small and he quickly put them under the table during this exchange. He ordered a grilled cheese and thought about how he’d be home late for the start of Jeopardy. He finished his sandwich in a hurry and blushed when the waitress asked his name and laid his check on the table. He’d studied her long fingers, tipped with bright red polish. He began to take his meals at the diner every night. Driving in the opposite direction of his home, and onto route 90. This cost him 45 cents in tolls in either direction. He’d keep exact change to quickly hand the woman in the booth.<br />
<br />
One night, after a month or so, Ashley joked “the food here’s not that good George. You sweet on me sugar?” He’d turned the shade of her nails and she’d laughed “This one’s sweet on me Janice” she called over to her co-worker. Then the two of them laughed and so did a few costumers. George left 20 whole dollars on the table and slipped out when she’d gone in the kitchen. On his way home he stopped at the toll booth. He stayed stopped like that. Minutes began to tic by in the red glow of the stop light. The barrier arm remained down. The line of cars behind him began to honk. He’d run out of change. George takes his meals at home again now. On a tv table while sitting on the couch. In front of Jeopardy. He didn’t used to drink beer but now he does. And sometimes when he stands up and heads for the fridge and asks her if she wants a refill, she’ll raise her legs straight out, blocking the path between the couch and the coffee table and say, “That’ll be 45 cents please”.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
* * *<br />
Aase Berg: In the Guinea Pig Cave<br />
<br />
<a href="https://greenlanternpress.wordpress.com/tag/in-the-guinea-pig-cave/?fbclid=IwAR26M6td4SFaLK-xzLMN-2FMVVV71RASPYJHE0UDt04izmQ6bmdmzhXR78E">https://greenlanternpress.wordpress.com/tag/in-the-guinea-pig-cave/?fbclid=IwAR26M6td4SFaLK-xzLMN-2FMVVV71RASPYJHE0UDt04izmQ6bmdmzhXR78E</a><br /><br />* * *<br /><a href="https://www.geist.com/topics/vryenhoek-leslie/" itemprop="author" itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Person" rel="author" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: Georgia, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16.9px; text-decoration-line: none;">Leslie Vryenhoek</a>: <a href="https://www.geist.com/contests/postcard-story-contest/under-the-surface/?fbclid=IwAR1c_E3VnUGOCRXxK2TMpj4UTnhOX9sdddkjpjJmMY-foxWd__fY_BHlfJw">Under the Surface</a>gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-75675582922337835082018-11-25T17:28:00.001-08:002018-11-26T11:08:25.255-08:00Like a Pancake out of Hell, it was Silent as a Bull in a Haystack.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpFO_e_0Qr1Yl_A8_NA7jjCSB95JEGX7dDOy1Brj-4stltmeOhly7-wD0XLdWz02vm0GKdBdIwvN_oLfdabEbv7ysgkocSZ2w4XcLC0UNyzX6j4NhGp9e60-arh1ErepeYpECfc-jUHa7/s1600/Ghost+of+Christma+Past+Particple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOpFO_e_0Qr1Yl_A8_NA7jjCSB95JEGX7dDOy1Brj-4stltmeOhly7-wD0XLdWz02vm0GKdBdIwvN_oLfdabEbv7ysgkocSZ2w4XcLC0UNyzX6j4NhGp9e60-arh1ErepeYpECfc-jUHa7/s320/Ghost+of+Christma+Past+Particple.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
1. Update on due dates for portfolio<br />
<br />
2. Christopher Dewdney: Dialectic Criminal (On the use of clichés)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9Hx5FhtR3lCeVETjMqEb0_1wwjEpxlcfdqhPfjSiaFXt_-oQyH60nD8qiubfqH8zWDU6exurTMVthDRWAE0oL4eNCRP8sIRiZnJw6UBSRc_ApN0vsl20bGoXoFfH55vMvK7lTOAfQJkt/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-25+at+6.32.47+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1020" data-original-width="882" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9Hx5FhtR3lCeVETjMqEb0_1wwjEpxlcfdqhPfjSiaFXt_-oQyH60nD8qiubfqH8zWDU6exurTMVthDRWAE0oL4eNCRP8sIRiZnJw6UBSRc_ApN0vsl20bGoXoFfH55vMvK7lTOAfQJkt/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-11-25+at+6.32.47+PM.png" width="345" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjWX6SoAHYnaICtSeEvY0nI3DoWFOq6krUj0BDjQjDVHHA-g8enPuCcveDOqgMn0LxMWLL080EKDtglWhHuVPETaVxc83fCru8L7-8aEfKrw_x4DXNzI4JwG0hzKG5vtlelV2sFb3Xry54/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-25+at+6.32.55+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="790" data-original-width="964" height="327" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjWX6SoAHYnaICtSeEvY0nI3DoWFOq6krUj0BDjQjDVHHA-g8enPuCcveDOqgMn0LxMWLL080EKDtglWhHuVPETaVxc83fCru8L7-8aEfKrw_x4DXNzI4JwG0hzKG5vtlelV2sFb3Xry54/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-11-25+at+6.32.55+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
‘<b>Good as gold’</b> – connections between value and wealth<br />
<i>I was feeling good. It was like finding your favourite desert, the finest variety, in the yellow-stickered reduced section. </i><br />
<br />
<b>‘As hard to find as a needle in a haystack’</b>-- connections of difficulty in finding a minority in a majority<br />
<i> I couldn’t see it. It was as if I was lost and looking for my mother in a crowd where everyone wore the same cardigan and jeans. They all walked with the same concerned expression on their faces, yet none of them are ever her.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b>‘Flat as a pancake’</b> – connection with flatness<br />
<i>It was as flat as freshly wet sand. There is the impression that there were once sculptures there, before the tide. But now there is nothing. Just the sand.</i><br />
<br />
<b>‘Hard as nails’ </b>– connection with solidness, toughness and immovability<br />
<i>He stared me down and did not move. It was as if he had become a brick wall, and with every word I spoke he became two times thicker and twice the height. There was no getting past him.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b>‘Faster than a bat out of hell’</b> – connection with recklessness and speed<br />
<i>He ran. He darted down alleyways like street mice run through gutters and drains, dodging raindrops as they go.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b>‘Meek as a lamb’ </b>– connections with being gentle, docile and innocent<br />
<i>She sat trying to look innocent. She thought only of a single goldfish in its bowl, swimming meekly in circles, quietly and unsuspicious.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b>‘Charging around like a bull in a china shop’</b> – connection with clumsiness<br />
<i>Like a sightless sheepdog, confused in the dark, the boy ran onto the playground falling into the other children around him.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b>‘Silent as the grave’</b> – connection with unnerving noises<br />
<i>The room was quiet. It was as if every worker had been silenced by a bad punch-line, all of them too ashamed to acknowledge that the joke had ever been told.</i><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
(see https://ashhartridgeonline.wordpress.com/2013/09/08/writing-exercise-10-rewriting-cliches/)
<br />
<br />
INTERESTING COMPARISONS<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
She had a smile like a broken deckchair.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
He had the personality of the common cold.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
He danced like a lawnmower.</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
It was quiet as stone.</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
Time has not stood still. It has washed over me, washed me away, as if I’m nothing more than a woman of sand, left by a careless child too near the water. — <i>The Handmaid’s Tale</i>, Margaret Atwood </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
She was the third beer. Not the first one, which the throat receives with almost tearful gratitude; nor the second, that confirms and extends the pleasure of the first. But the third, the one you drink because it’s there, because it can’t hurt, and because what difference does it make?
— <i>Song of Solomon</i>, Toni Morrison </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
She herself is a haunted house. She does not possess herself; her ancestors sometimes come and peer out of the windows of her eyes and that is very frightening.
― <i>The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories,</i> Angela Carter </blockquote>
<br />
3. Dialogue conventions:<br />
<a href="https://firstmanuscript.com/format-dialogue/">https://firstmanuscript.com/format-dialogue/</a><br />
<br />
<br />
4. STORY IN A BAG (part 1)<br />
<a href="https://www.dropbox.com/s/68ww3ktz4328k9w/short%20story%20in%20a%20bag.key?dl=0">https://www.dropbox.com/s/68ww3ktz4328k9w/short%20story%20in%20a%20bag.key?dl=0</a><br />
<br />
<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-90857165070754348972018-11-20T09:19:00.002-08:002018-11-20T09:38:05.230-08:00Time, the afterlife, the future, spooneristic spacetime manipulation<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgarSaHJF7KfBnzmMkDpSCtgB4MptUZANMdt0YM23a7tBoN4Z-d2SVkUUFxb0Q3inr9DK4Ji2_DEvOEcD5rinIptZrUIVPDYzfEwjucaol0xRLkwPsZz47-1VaNJAEpoLK6M79WztSu1QEU/s1600/The+Martyrology+bp+nichol+language.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="706" data-original-width="544" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgarSaHJF7KfBnzmMkDpSCtgB4MptUZANMdt0YM23a7tBoN4Z-d2SVkUUFxb0Q3inr9DK4Ji2_DEvOEcD5rinIptZrUIVPDYzfEwjucaol0xRLkwPsZz47-1VaNJAEpoLK6M79WztSu1QEU/s640/The+Martyrology+bp+nichol+language.jpg" width="492" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">bpNichol: Fictive Funnies<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizDkThmSTsxek_j4iZX99zm1M3r6i1BsmKVmuJRVCxuMlBiM4oJ2Tf780gUDcDK9FWAsNC07ARfFtFvTNKGJvEas-FCAjbermBOdC2alF2iRKzWfiOSW_4nopnHVCmwsqh03qUF84ncXIe/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-20+at+12.23.25+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="990" data-original-width="1600" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizDkThmSTsxek_j4iZX99zm1M3r6i1BsmKVmuJRVCxuMlBiM4oJ2Tf780gUDcDK9FWAsNC07ARfFtFvTNKGJvEas-FCAjbermBOdC2alF2iRKzWfiOSW_4nopnHVCmwsqh03qUF84ncXIe/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-11-20+at+12.23.25+PM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spacetime Trousers</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
1. Sheila Heti: "My Life is a Joke."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
2. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJ4AU0kihFo">David Byrne: In the Future</a><br />
<br />
Writing: Write "In the future..." piece after Byrne.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
3. <a href="https://www.blogger.com/href=%22http://www.venright.com/MRJ%202014%20Pages/MRJ_1.html">Steve Venright: Manta Ray Jack and the Crew of Spooner</a><br />
<br />
How does the structure of this text (i.e. spoonerisms) subvert the linear flow of the narrative, insisting that time (and reading) cannot proceed in a straightforward line? How this also affect the construction of meaning?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-498072473361961672018-11-19T11:13:00.001-08:002018-11-19T11:14:47.641-08:00Calvino: Cities and Memory 1 & 2<style type="text/css">
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<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Cities and Memory 1.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Leaving there and proceeding for three days toward the east, you reach Diomira, a city with sixty silver domes, bronze statues of all the gods, streets paved with lead, a crystal theater, a golden cock that crows every morning on a tower. All these beauties will already be familiar to the visitor, who has seen them also in other cities. But the special quality of this city for the man who arrives there on a September evening, when the days are growing shorter and the multicolored lamps are lighted all at once at the doors of the food stalls and from a terrace a woman's voice cries ooh!, is that he feels envy toward those who now believe they have once before lived an evening identical to this and who think they were happy, that time.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Cities and Memory 2.</span><br />
<span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">When a man rides a long time through wild regions he feels the desire for a city. Finally he comes to Isidora, a city where the buildings have spiral staircases encrusted with spiral seashells, where perfect telescopes and violins are made, where the foreigner hesitating between two women always encounters a third, where cockfights degenerate into bloody brawls among the bettors. He was thinking of all these things when he desired a city. Isidora, therefore, is the city of his dreams: with one difference. The dreamed-of city contained him as a young man; he arrives at Isidora in his old age. In the square there is the wall where the old men sit and watch the young go by; he is seated in a row with them. Desires are already memories.</span></div>
<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-51745434833959307172018-11-19T09:05:00.001-08:002018-11-19T09:05:18.197-08:00Revision<br />
<br />
In the terrible years of the Yezhov terror, I spent seventeen months in the prison lines of Leningrad. Once, someone "recognized" me. Then a woman with bluish lips standing behind me, who, of course, had never heard me called by name before, woke up from the stupor to which everyone had succumbed and whispered in my ear (everyone spoke in whispers there): "Can you describe this?" And I answered: "Yes, I can." Then something that looked like a smile passed over what had once been her face.
<br />
<br />
Anna Akhmatova<br />
<br />
<br />
*<br />
<br />
Steve Venright: <a href="http://www.venright.com/MRJ%202014%20Pages/MRJ_1.html">Manta Ray Jack and the Crew of Spooner</a><br />
<br />
<br />
*<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Editing/Revising</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
<b>First draft:</b> It was one of those nights when you could see shadows dance across the lawn. I was sitting on my front porch with Chuck and Buck, two of my best friends, and we watched as the light traced patterns on insect flights.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Edited draft:</b> Shadows crept across the lawn in the moonlight. My two best friends, Chuck and Buck, helped me watch the light trace patterns on insect flights.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>START LATER AND EARLIER</b></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Ending before the resolution is often really effective— bring the reader up to the point where the momentous thing is about to happen and then cut away. This leaves them actively involved in the story, wondering what might occur. The open-endedness keeps the ending energetic and active.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>-Beginning further into the action</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>More active: the reader is plunged into the story, has to orient themselves. Is more engaging and active. Details can be revealed later.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>“Try to leave out the parts that readers tend to skip.” —Elmore Leonard.<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>MURDEROUSLY KILL AND ALSO FATALLY ELIMINATE LIKE A VERBOCIDAL ASSASIN METAPHORS, SIMILES, ADVERBS AND ADJECTIVES<br />
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Can you eliminate metaphors, similes, adverbs and adjectives which are unnecessary or redundant and also not important or effective?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Kill unnecessary metaphors, similes, adverbs and adjectives. Kill them. Now.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b><span style="font-size: small;">STAGE DIRECTIONS</span></b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;">She reached out her arm to open the door.</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Okay, unless she has mind powers and telekinesis, do we need the direction?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;">He turned to go down the next street.</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;">He picked up the oars and pulled a few more strokes, eager to get to his favorite fishing spot.</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">We “get” he’d have to pick up the oars to row his boat, or that is a seriously cool trick.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Be active. Characters can “brush hair out of their face” “open doors” and even slap people without you telling us they reached out an arm or hand to do this. We are smart. Really.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b><span style="font-size: small;">BACKING INTO THE SENTENCE/PASSIVE VOICE</span></b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">In an effort to break up and vary sentence structure, many writers will craft sentences like this:</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">With the months of stress pressing down <b>on</b> her head, Jessie <b>started</b> ironing the restaurant tablecloths with a fury.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Problem? Passive action. When we use the word “down” then “on” is redundant. Either she is ironing or not ironing. “Started” is overused and makes sloppy writing. That actually goes back to the whole “stage direction” thing.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Active:</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Jessie ironed the restaurant tablecloths with a fury, months of stress pressing on her shoulders.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;">The door was kicked in by the police.</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Police kicked in the door.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">If you go through your pages and see WAS clusters? That’s a HUGE hint that passive voice has infected your story.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b><span style="font-size: small;">“ALMOST ALWAYS USE ‘SAID’ AS A TAG, HE SPAT EXPECTORANTLY.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“You are such a jerk,” she laughed.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">A character can’t “laugh” something. They can’t “snip” “spit” “snarl” “grouse” words. They can SAY and ever so often they can ASK. <i>Said</i> becomes white noise. Readers don’t “see” it. It keeps them in the story and cooking along. If we want to add things like laughing, griping, complaining, then fine. <b>It just shouldn’t be the tag.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“You are such a jerk.” She laughed as she flicked brownie batter onto Fabio’s white shirt.<br />
</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">______</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Some of this borrowed from: https://authorkristenlamb.com/2016/05/six-ways-to-self-edit-polish-your-prose/</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">*</span></div>
<div class="p7">
<span style="font-size: small;">Read: "My Life is a Joke," by Shelia Heti. (Posted in "Content" on Avenue.) There's the text but also an audio version.</span></div>
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<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-8310914119742180922018-11-13T16:10:00.000-08:002018-11-13T16:10:09.620-08:00GETTING TENSE ABOUT TENSE <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwW7u1maOSbBy1Kb4GTlAO4RxgL61PXh0FH9h8WtPdFok6c3a-EvFgu0Vd0YmfOMmeU-0je8ClPjRGC6cgGORmfUhwU3j2ngC-k25HDEFKy1WrW6SFrV1i_eV7xAYHNSBSrhWrdFzRMwsg/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-13+at+7.03.49+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1150" data-original-width="1146" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwW7u1maOSbBy1Kb4GTlAO4RxgL61PXh0FH9h8WtPdFok6c3a-EvFgu0Vd0YmfOMmeU-0je8ClPjRGC6cgGORmfUhwU3j2ngC-k25HDEFKy1WrW6SFrV1i_eV7xAYHNSBSrhWrdFzRMwsg/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-11-13+at+7.03.49+PM.png" width="397" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKfiTPmuJdoW5rr5BEbslKZXS7cMFZAQKljy9h223U1xBwIQunmS-gIMdOx5DzSFjxrRmORv0EreLrBoJDGB11ANXUYBzm-f1vBgmFknJ0DTK1njVInBtVUtf3WVUnR8Dsutwrk9OjCiR/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-13+at+7.04.08+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1218" data-original-width="814" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKfiTPmuJdoW5rr5BEbslKZXS7cMFZAQKljy9h223U1xBwIQunmS-gIMdOx5DzSFjxrRmORv0EreLrBoJDGB11ANXUYBzm-f1vBgmFknJ0DTK1njVInBtVUtf3WVUnR8Dsutwrk9OjCiR/s640/Screen+Shot+2018-11-13+at+7.04.08+PM.png" width="425" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujtVbIdNrq6j9TczCW1xfjMuJ4uOx0XAR5u2vaEEat2XwkLkM3U7ouBi93sJsa3wvhYKWsPTLPA4-gXI_hmJOQhayYY6E-Cd-3e7a64nJpR4kNf48WOS2mT9ZLRD7KXUNTntE785kKeGU/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-11-13+at+7.04.17+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1176" data-original-width="780" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiujtVbIdNrq6j9TczCW1xfjMuJ4uOx0XAR5u2vaEEat2XwkLkM3U7ouBi93sJsa3wvhYKWsPTLPA4-gXI_hmJOQhayYY6E-Cd-3e7a64nJpR4kNf48WOS2mT9ZLRD7KXUNTntE785kKeGU/s640/Screen+Shot+2018-11-13+at+7.04.17+PM.png" width="424" /></a><br /><i>100 Years of Solitude</i> by Gabriel Garcia Marquez<br /><br /><br /></div>
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GETTING TENSE ABOUT TENSE</div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24X4JFl27Nc%E2%80%A8">Watch DD Johnston about why the past tense is better than the present. </a></div>
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Is he right?</div>
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Is present tense actually cinematic?</div>
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How can you handle memory and future thought in the present tense. </div>
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Read 100 Years of Solitude: beginning. Note: “Many years later, as he was to face the firing squad he would remember…”</div>
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A. Write eight I will remembers, beginning:<br /></div>
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“When I was 87, I remembered….”</div>
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B. 1. Write in present tense</div>
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<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>-protagonist is doing something</div>
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<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>-they remember some time from the past when they thought of what they were going to do in the future (or what was going to happen.)</div>
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<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>-now in the present they do something else and think about what they are going to do. </div>
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<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>-the narrator remarks on what things are always happening, and are still happening, and will continue to happen.</div>
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Then take your neighbour’s present tense story and:</div>
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2. Then change it into future tense. The protagonist will be doing that something.</div>
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Then pass it along to the next person: </div>
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3. Then change it into past tense.</div>
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<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-23758605782802356802018-11-11T17:01:00.001-08:002018-11-12T09:27:48.429-08:00Time<b>Clock: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hnm8PVx3HYw">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hnm8PVx3HYw</a></b><br />
<b><br />Christian Marclay, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xp4EUryS6ac">The Clock</a></b><br />
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<b>Time</b><br />
<br />
How do we conceive of time?<br />
How does it operate?<br />
Can we live in more than one time at once?<br />(thinking about Remembrance Day: imagining the men in the trenches 100 years ago, thinking about the men and women after that, and the situation now, and then imagining the soldiers of the future.)<br />
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-recounting past event: I went to the store. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.<br />
(every photograph is of a past event)<br />
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-memory, flashback, nostalgia,<br />
-rewriting the past,<br />
-forgetting, remembering a memory and not the event itself<br />
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-awareness of what will happen<br />
-prophesy, prediction<br />
-deja vu.<br />
-deja vu all over again . (i.e. everything seemed like it has happened before and keeps happening)<br />
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-imagining, fantasizing,<br />
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-mythical past, a kind of past out of time<br />
"Once upon a time'<br />
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-dream states<br />
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-drama changing how time flows:<br />
"my whole life flashed before me." "time stopped."<br />
--or boredom changing how it flowed: "It was so boring, it seemed time slowed down."<br />
"so exciting everything passed by in a flash."<br />
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-conditional future: what might happen, what should.<br />
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-recounting events backwards, following the causal chain. (detective?)<br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/goog_2019157976"><br /></a>
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<a href="https://fiftywordstories.com/tag/palindrome/">https://fiftywordstories.com/tag/palindrome/</a>:<br />
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Stories written backwards really are nonsense. Unpublishable as discarded tales collecting dust. Misunderstood. Why are words tricky? How one shows irony of knowing without knowledge.</div>
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Knowledge, without knowing of irony, shows one how tricky words are. Why? Misunderstood, dust collecting tales discarded as unpublishable nonsense, are really backwards written stories.</div>
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Palindrome story: <a href="http://spinelessbooks.com/2002/palindrome/">http://spinelessbooks.com/2002/palindrome/</a><br />
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EINSTEIN'S DREAMS by Alan Lightman<br />
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1. Write a prose piece embodying how time moves in some noticeably different way.<br />
2. Write a contrasting piece where time moves in a noticeable different way that the one you just wrote.gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-13819636145634552522018-11-05T11:13:00.000-08:002018-11-05T11:13:27.655-08:00Borges: Pierre Menard<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<img src="https://networkingnerd.files.wordpress.com/2012/04/don-quixote-windmill.jpg?w=425" /><br /><br /><br /></div>
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<a href="http://users.clas.ufl.edu/burt/Bibliomania!/BorgesPierreMenard.pdf" style="text-size-adjust: auto;">http://users.clas.ufl.edu/burt/Bibliomania!/BorgesPierreMenard.pdf</a></div>
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gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-84699190615740230052018-11-04T20:19:00.001-08:002018-11-05T10:26:21.506-08:00Experimental Fiction techniques<style type="text/css">
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<span class="s1"><img alt="Image result for bpnichol comic" height="238" src="https://c1.staticflickr.com/8/7063/26704105653_9a488c4423_b.jpg" width="640" /><b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /><br /><br /><br />Experimental Writing<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">What is reality?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">How is agreed upon?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">—cf. superstition, miracles, quantum physics, etc.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">How do we represent it?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Experimental vs. the conventional ways of representing reality and its structures and hierarchies?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">What is “fiction”?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">How does it work?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">What is “reading”?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">How is “data” different than fiction?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">What if you concentrate on only one element: form, lexicon, etc.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">How you can interrogate a text to examine its (and our) assumptions about something?<br />How can it show how we think? feel? what consciousness is like? </span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">What a single moment is like? A single human?</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">How meaning works, how language works?</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">How does fiction organize experience? reality? the human and non-human?</span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Whose reality? And how did this fiction get to us? </span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Who made it? How? </span></span><br />
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Who else is included or excluded from it?</span></span><br />
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">What happens when you throw a spanner in the works?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span>How can highlighting one element reveal something significant?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">What happens when things don't work the "normal way" in fiction"? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">What's revealed?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Andy Warhol: 24 hours of recorded speech</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Kenny Goldsmith: everything he did for 24 hours.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Erasure:</b><br />
Beaulieu: sounds of NY, but also who did the work?<br />
<a href="https://www.jean-boite.fr/product/a-a-novel-by-derek-beaulieu"><span class="s2">https://www.jean-boite.fr/product/a-a-novel-by-derek-beaulieu</span></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Heart of Darkness: erasing everything but the landscape.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Procedure</b>—Animal Farm in Pig Latin.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">https://issuu.com/ourteeth/docs/animalway_armfay/6</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
Moby Dick in emojis</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Extremes</b>: entire book in 1 second.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Activities.</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>N+7</i><br />
<a href="http://www.spoonbill.org/n+7/"><span class="s2">http://www.spoonbill.org/n+7/</span></a></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">enter text.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Translations</i></span></div>
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<span class="s2"><a href="https://translate.google.com/"><span style="font-size: small;">https://translate.google.com/</span></a></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">-translate into several very different languages and then back to English.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Find and replace</i>— with Word processor</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">-take text. replace all adjectives with “blue” (or another adjective)<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">all nouns with “owl” (or another adjective.)</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Constraint: lipograms</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">one syllable words only. Or Christian Bök: Eunoia words</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">recording of Christian: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fUNwHmQc9yk"><span class="s2">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fUNwHmQc9yk</span></a></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Writing is inhibiting. Sighing, I sit, scribbling in ink</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">this pidgin script. I sing with nihilistic witticism,</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">disciplining signs with trifling gimmicks — impish</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">hijinks which highlight stick sigils. Isn’t it glib?</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Isn’t it chic? I fit childish insights within rigid limits,</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">writing shtick which might instill priggish misgiv-</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">ings in critics blind with hindsight. I dismiss nit-</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">picking criticism which flirts with philistinism. I</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">bitch; I kibitz — griping whilst criticizing dimwits,</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">sniping whilst indicting nitwits, dismissing simplis-</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">tic thinking, in which philippic wit is still illicit.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Pilgrims, digging in shifts, dig till midnight in mining</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">pits, chipping flint with picks, drilling schist with drills,</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">striking it rich mining zinc. Irish firms, hiring micks</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">whilst firing Brits, bring in smiths with mining skills:</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">kilnwrights grilling brick in brickkilns, millwrights</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">grinding grist in gristmills. Irish tinsmiths, fiddling</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">with widgits, fix this rig, driving its drills which spin</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">whirring drillbits. I pitch in, fixing things. I rig this</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">winch with its wiring; I fit this drill with its piping. I</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">dig this ditch, filling bins with dirt, piling it high, sift-</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">ing it, till I find bright prisms twinkling with glitz.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">*<br />
<a href="http://poemsandpoetics.blogspot.com/2009/07/christian-bok-excerpts-from-eunoia.html"><span class="s3">http://poemsandpoetics.blogspot.com/2009/07/christian-bok-excerpts-from-eunoia.html</span></a></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">*<br /><br />Time Moving Backwards</span></span></div>
<h1 class="quoteText" style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px 0px 15px; padding: 0px;">
“It was a movie about American bombers in World War II and the gallant men who flew them. Seen backwards by Billy, the story went like this: American planes, full of holes and wounded men and corpses took off backwards from an airfield in England. Over France, a few German fighter planes flew at them backwards, sucked bullets and shell fragments from some of the planes and crewmen. They did the same for wrecked American bombers on the ground, and those planes flew up backwards to join the formation.<br /><br />The formation flew backwards over a German city that was in flames. The bombers opened their bomb bay doors, exerted a miraculous magnetism which shrunk the fires, gathered them into cylindrical steel containers , and lifted the containers into the bellies of the planes. The containers were stored neatly in racks. The Germans below had miraculous devices of their own, which were long steel tubes. They used them to suck more fragments from the crewmen and planes. But there were still a few wounded Americans though and some of the bombers were in bad repair. Over France though, German fighters came up again, made everything and everybody as good as new.<br /><br />When the bombers got back to their base, the steel cylinders were taken from the racks and shipped back to the United States of America, where factories were operating night and day, dismantling the cylinders, separating the dangerous contents into minerals. Touchingly, it was mainly women who did this work. The minerals were then shipped to specialists in remote areas. It was their business to put them into the ground, to hide them cleverly, so they would never hurt anybody ever again.”</h1>
<br />
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">― </span><span class="authorOrTitle" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "lato" , "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold;">Kurt Vonnegut, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;"></span><span id="quote_book_link_4981" style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;"><a class="authorOrTitle" href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/1683562" style="color: #333333; font-family: Lato, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: bold; text-decoration-line: none;">Slaughterhouse-Five</a></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-76727407443606038172018-10-31T12:56:00.001-07:002018-10-31T13:00:12.768-07:00GORG: a detective story by bpNichola man walks into a room. there is a corpse on the floor. the man has been shot
through the temple the bullet entering at a 45° angle just above the eyes &
exiting almost thru the top of the skull. the man does not walk out of the room.
the corpse stands up & introduces himself. later there will be a party. you will
not be invited & feeling hurt go off into a corner to sulk. there is a gun on the
window sill. You rig up a pulley which enables you to pull the trigger while
pointing the gun between your eyes & holding it with your feet. a man walks in
on you, you are lying on the floor dead. you have been shot thru the temple the
bullet exiting almost thru the top of your skull. you stand up & introduce
yourself, the man lies on the floor & you shoot him between the eyes the bullet
piercing his temple & exiting thru his skull into the floor. you rejoin the party.
the man asks you to leave since you weren’t invited. you notice a stranger in the
doorway who pulling out a gun shoots you between the eyes. you introduce
each other & lie down. your host is polite but firm & asks you both to leave. at
this point a man walks in & intrudes himself. you are lying on the floor &
cannot see him. your host appears not to know him & the man leave. the party
ends & the room is empty.<br />
<br />
the man picks up the corpse & exits.gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-8630662211596666172018-10-31T09:24:00.003-07:002018-10-31T10:02:14.033-07:00Oct 31: Animals<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
<br />
THE ZEBRA STORYTELLER<br />
Spencer Holst<br />
<br />
<br />
Once upon a time there was a Siamese cat who pretended to be a lion and spoke inappropriate Zebraic.<br />
That language is whinnied by the race of striped horses in Africa.<br />
Here now: An innocent zebra is walking in a jungle, and approaching from another direction is the little cat; they meet.<br />
“Hello there!” says the Siamese cat in perfectly pronounced Zebraic. “It certainly is a pleasant day, isn’t it? The sun is shining, the birds are singing, isn’t the world a lovely place to live today!”<br />
The zebra is so astonished at hearing a Siamese cat speaking like a zebra, why, he’s just fit to be tied.<br />
So the little cat quickly ties him up, kills him, and drags the better parts of the carcass back to his den.<br />
The cat successfully hunted zebras many months in this manner, dining on filet mignon of zebra every night, and from the better hides he made bow neckties and wide belts after the fashion of the decadent princes of the Old Siamese court.<br />
He began boasting to his friends he was a lion, and he gave them as proof the fact that he hunted zebras.<br />
The delicate noses of the zebras told them there was really no lion in the neighborhood. The zebra deaths caused many to avoid the region. Superstitious, they decided the woods were haunted by the ghost of a lion.<br />
One day the storyteller of the zebras was ambling, and through his mind ran plots for stories to amuse the other zebras, when suddenly his eyes brightened, and he said, “That’s it! I’ll tell a story about a Siamese cat who learns to speak our language! What an idea! That’ll make ’em laugh!”<br />
Just then the Siamese cat appeared before him, and said, “Hello there! Pleasant day today, isn’t it!”<br />
The zebra storyteller wasn’t fit to be tied at hearing a cat speaking his language, because he’d been thinking about that very thing.<br />
He took a good look at the cat, and he didn’t know why, but there was something about his looks he didn’t like, so he kicked him with a hoof and killed him.<br />
That is the function of the storyteller.<br />
<br />
* * *<br />
<br />
Andre Alexis: from<i> Fifteen Dogs</i><br />
<br />
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* * *<br />
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Italo Calvino's <a href="http://www.ruanyifeng.com/calvino/2007/07/ch_9_the_dinosaurs.html">"The Dinosaurs"</a> from <i>Cosmiccomics</i><br />
<div>
<br />
<br />
*<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://www.dropbox.com/s/7q30578c7dyr7h5/MIX%20AND%20MATCH%20MONSTER%20MASH.docx?dl=0">MIX AND MATCH</a></div>
gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-47273637783280883772018-10-29T07:46:00.000-07:002019-09-17T09:18:01.610-07:00Appropriation vs. Freedom of Expression <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<img height="225" src="https://i.cbc.ca/1.3359737.1449780882!/fileImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/16x9_780/gregg-deal.jpg" width="400" /></div>
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<div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<span style="font-family: "open sans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="font-family: "open sans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">In this performance piece, artist Gregg Deal — a member of the Pyramid Lake Paiute tribe — dressed as a Plains Indian outside the Denver Art Museum. Deal spoke with CBC Radio's Unreserved about the piece in late 2015.</span><span style="font-family: "open sans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "open sans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">(courtesy Gregg Deal)</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span>
<br />
<h2 class="deck" style="line-height: 24px; margin-top: 16px;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://www.cbc.ca/arts/the-cultural-appropriation-debate-isn-t-about-free-speech-it-s-about-context-1.4117142" style="font-family: "Open Sans", sans-serif; font-weight: 400;">Indigenous writer Alicia Elliott explains why 'free speech' arguments ignore Canada's history of oppression</a></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://www.thespec.com/opinion-story/7331975-don-t-confuse-appropriation-with-real-freedom-of-expression/">Barwin writes on the difference between freedom of expression and appropriation.</a></span></h2>
<h2 class="deck" style="line-height: 24px; margin-top: 16px;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://harpers.org/blog/2019/09/poem-for-harm/?fbclid=IwAR0HySqd0oZfXmaQKBoaKoZDXgazO1MBzt5913TTlExW1vtotD7BKorzkVo">Matthew Zapruder's insightful examination of on harm vs conflict.</a></span></h2>
<div>
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: , serif; font-size: 18px;">"The question is not whether I as a white person am completely innocent, or whether I am “allowed” to say certain things. The question is, what can I do, as a writer and person, to help? And what are the possible consequences of my efforts?" </span></div>
<h2 class="deck" style="line-height: 24px; margin-top: 16px;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />--considering power relations, currently and historically</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">--people's historical right to speak</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">--cf. "punching up" vs. "punching down"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">--harm in w misrepresenting, silencing, erasing or eclipsing group who have had that occur historically or currently</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">--giving space, listening to voices</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">--white fragility</span></h2>
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<div>
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<div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b>* * *<br /><br />Multiple POV Activity: Writing Activity </b><br />
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1. Write from 3rd person, limited. It’s a family. At a birthday, wedding, funeral, graduation, family dinner.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span>
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<div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>First POV: Jane (Name of your choice.)</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span>
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<div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1">2. Then POV: John (Name of your choice.)</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
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<div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1">3. Then from an “I” maybe mentioning a “you”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span>
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<div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1">(OPTIONAL: You can write one POV and then let another writer write the other POV of the same scene while you respond to their initial scene.)</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
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gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-49948088293102722002018-10-24T08:18:00.000-07:002018-10-24T10:50:56.562-07:00On Unreliable Narrators (Really)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvdGwi26t8jaKHGLHBH9S14l18Y5SyKv7XtGrbk7v3TQJWFYGH1kxzujrjRi_yhPzqlDP5UEhiqzrZpzamn9NcTUqv03T-jAt-A4tkheDrDFiQwUxCjiTa6Iucd9mpZALqFuOY5VbNe2A/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-10-24+at+11.12.50+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1308" data-original-width="1426" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvdGwi26t8jaKHGLHBH9S14l18Y5SyKv7XtGrbk7v3TQJWFYGH1kxzujrjRi_yhPzqlDP5UEhiqzrZpzamn9NcTUqv03T-jAt-A4tkheDrDFiQwUxCjiTa6Iucd9mpZALqFuOY5VbNe2A/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-10-24+at+11.12.50+AM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">bpNichol: The True Eventual Story of Billy the Kid</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYNAtwz25AXKL2DFRSxofBcGB1v2YagJf6c458TlCd8cbhG4O5hoLdlTt8FFYyVL1z66A5KWeRQmyEZ5fprPrM35MzfMNlLlwWQa7c8x8AyHNrvG5wtRoMjUfguNf8vGdLLVCZhubbGMkL/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-10-24+at+10.58.34+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1310" data-original-width="1128" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYNAtwz25AXKL2DFRSxofBcGB1v2YagJf6c458TlCd8cbhG4O5hoLdlTt8FFYyVL1z66A5KWeRQmyEZ5fprPrM35MzfMNlLlwWQa7c8x8AyHNrvG5wtRoMjUfguNf8vGdLLVCZhubbGMkL/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-10-24+at+10.58.34+AM.png" width="343" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifAkdZhTui0e9MjGiTQCw3L6Tcx8x_SP9aCTCHeEImNhdXs-sc7fSY1XUO40jyd2OB0iY9ymkPPG_qwW3-DgH4GUFOiA97L1_3hbnp-sBiFL1P_y6sXwrJKgLAhOgz1uSpao5Si_DF2Dev/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-10-24+at+11.09.56+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="462" data-original-width="1054" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifAkdZhTui0e9MjGiTQCw3L6Tcx8x_SP9aCTCHeEImNhdXs-sc7fSY1XUO40jyd2OB0iY9ymkPPG_qwW3-DgH4GUFOiA97L1_3hbnp-sBiFL1P_y6sXwrJKgLAhOgz1uSpao5Si_DF2Dev/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-10-24+at+11.09.56+AM.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peter Carey: The True History of the Kelly Gang</td></tr>
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<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>Unreliable narrator</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I was going to prepare but my dog ate my notes</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">so then I got some chloroform put him to sleep, put my hand down his throat to retrieve my notes then I put them in the oven to dry them out (dog slobber) then they caught fire so patted them down and burnt my hand which I then covered in butter to heal it but then I was hungry so I used the butter to put on toast and so I didn’t end up having time to prepare for the class.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Actually, I was out all night drinking with a friend. I wouldn’t normally but he had just been through a difficult. breakup. We started with drinking, then smoked some weed, then ended up doing coke and drove to Niagara Falls NY on a lark. I was just released from jail this morning and so I wasn’t able to prepare.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Actually, I didn’t prepare because my dog did grab my notes. He’s just a puppy. But I knew he was trying to help. I knew that he sensed I felt ambivalent about what I’d written and so he intervened so I’d write new noes.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">How do you know I’m lying?</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">According to Lincoln, 67% of statistics on the Internet are made up.<br />
</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">It may only become apparent as the writing progresses, it begins to dawn on us, or we know from the beginning.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>HOW DO YOU KNOW THE STORY MAY NOT BE AS IT IS TOLD?</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Imagine email spam and how you look for clues that it’s not actually true.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br />
COMPARISON TO REAL WORLD OR WORLD OF THE NOVEL—compare narrator with what seems reasonable in our world or in the world of the story as far as one can establish</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—I<b>ncident of the Dog in the Night Time </b>— child describes thing from autistic POV but we know what is likely in our world — we can draw our own inferences from what is being described—in a different way than the character.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><i>Lord of the Rings</i>— it is established that this is a parallel world. If I told you that I had an appointment with a wizard later today to go on a mission across the world to destroy a magic ring you’d know that I was telling a story (and you might evaluate the story for internal consistency) …but if I said quantum physics and an object can be in two places at once and communicate over long distances, etc. even though it is hard to imagine, you would likely understand that I’m trying to represent the truth of modern physics. <br />
<br />
We compare what is the normal attitude of a reasonable adult to what is represented in fiction.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">OBSERVABLE ATTITUDE OF NARRATOR<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br />
Are they lying for self interest, or to cover for something or to prove a point?</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br />
Tell Tale Heart (see intro)<br />
<a href="https://americanenglish.state.gov/files/ae/resource_files/the_tell-tale_heart_0.pdf"><span class="s2">https://americanenglish.state.gov/files/ae/resource_files/the_tell-tale_heart_0.pdf</span></a></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><i>Lolita</i>—</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">— is intelligent, “reasonable,” writes well, charming, etc.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s2"><a href="https://epdf.tips/lolita-penguin-modern-classics.html">https://epdf.tips/lolita-penguin-modern-classics.html</a></span><span class="s1"><br />
—</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">THEY DON’T NECESSARILY MEAN TO MISREPRESENT — THEY DON’T KNOW THEY’RE DOING IT</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-perspective is different: simple, demonstrates the bias of their perspective on the world</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>as a result of culture, education, intelligence, social position, mental illness, personality <span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>disorder, altered state (drunk, drugged, traumatized, brainwashed, etc.), dementia, etc.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>(see <i>Whale Music</i> — gaps in his perception and memory as a result of trauma and drugs)</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>—HOW?</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—Sometimes they tell you this is their very own subjective recollection. Or the story they received from someone else (of course all stories are inherently unreliable)</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-Through their charm, intelligence, force of character — you get swayed by their charm, by the seeming authenticity of their speech/story/recollection. (cf politicians)</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">See <i>The True Story of the Kelly Gang </i>by Peter Carey (see image)</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—divergence between what is described and what is likely happening — the reader is able to see for themselves through the screen of the narrator’s sensibility</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—details don’t add up —within the internal world of the story or with ours. (what is the implied reality of the world?)</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—though sometimes the narrator leaves out significant details which are only found out later or can inferred (sometimes about what happened, sometimes about themselves.) And you realize this as you read.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><i>Geek Love</i>— we learn the narrator does indeed have a special skill —telling the future.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—Self justification (see Tell Tale Heart) —they “protest too much,”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>WHY</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-to talk about the unreliability of all story, of novels,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-to examine how the truth is inherently unknowable or all to easily misrepresented and a matter of POV</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><br />
see example, bpNichol <i>The True Eventual Story of Billy the Kid<br />
</i></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—to talk about self interest or POV — reality or history depends on POV<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>i.e. history is written by the victors (Churchill)</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-what is one’s responsibility to see beyond one’s own POV or the assumptions of one’s place in society (cf. <i>Remains of the Day </i>which we looked at earlier in the term — the character doesn’t mean to mispresent. He’s a product of his background. Or is he?)</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—it’s an exciting, intriguing way to tell a story, to involve the reader in figuring out what actually happened and how it is being represented. A bit like a mystery.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>WRITE<br />
</b></span></div>
<ol class="ol1">
<li class="li1"><span class="s1">Write a short account of an event that happened to you, or could have. But add in several lies or distortions. You’re going to read this to your neighbour and have them try to guess what isn’t true.</span></li>
</ol>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">2.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>a.Someone wakes up beside a dead body. Write what they might say.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Was it self defence? Was there someone else there? They didn’t know what happned? alien abduction? their have a gapped recollection? They don’t remember at all, they have another alibi…</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>b. Someone writing a letter to an ex or a parent or a boss about their perspective on an incident or series of incidents in which they could have been implicated</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>“They say I am responsible…”<br />
<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>“It is true that I was there, but…”</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">“Dear Judge Smith…”<br />
</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">What has distorted their perception? anxiety? drugs? guilt? racism?</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"> </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span></span></div>
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<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-7092021125191810492018-10-22T07:55:00.003-07:002018-10-22T08:04:45.598-07:00Perspective and Time: Oct 22 Streams of Consciousness<style type="text/css">
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<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span>*</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;">from </span><a href="https://www.litcharts.com/literary-devices-and-terms/stream-of-consciousness">https://www.litcharts.com/literary-devices-and-terms/stream-of-consciousness</a></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Stream of Consciousness vs. Interior Monologue </span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Both interior monologue and stream of consciousness involve the presentation of a character's thoughts to the reader. However, there are differences between the two.</span></span></div>
<ul class="ul1">
<li class="li1"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: small;"><span class="s2"><b></b></span><span class="s1"><b>In interior monologue,</b> unlike in stream of consciousness, the character's thoughts are often presented using traditional grammar and syntax, and usually have a clear logical progression from one sentence to the next and one idea to the next. Interior monologue relates a character's thoughts as coherent, fully formed sentences, as if the character is talking to him or herself.</span></span></li>
<li class="li1"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s2" style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b></b></span><span class="s1"><span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><b>Stream of consciousness,</b> in contrast, seeks to portray the actual experience of thinking, in all its chaos and distraction. Stream of consciousness is not just an attempt to relay a character's thoughts, but to make the reader experience those thoughts in the same way that the character is thinking them. </span> </span></span></li>
</ul>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit;">What do we think?</span></span><br />
<span class="s1" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit;">What influences how we think and in what way? </span><br />
<span class="s1" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit;"><br />What is the sequence of our thoughts? How are they organized? Are there “logical” links? Associational—based on culture, memory, specific experiences, play?</span><br />
<span class="s1" style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit;">Pathologies, emotional state, personality, etc.</span><br />
<span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: inherit;"><span class="s1"><br /></span>
<span class="s1">How can the way we think be represented, enacted?</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span></span><br /></span>
<span class="s1" style="font-family: inherit;">How do we represent this in language?<br />How can we go beyond standard grammar, punctuation, spelling, layout on the page, etc.?</span></span><br />
<span class="s1" style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-size: small;">*</span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Stream of Consciousness in <i>Mrs. Dalloway </i>by Virginia Woolf</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Virginia Woolf is known for using stream of consciousness in her writing. The novel <a href="https://www.litcharts.com/lit/mrs-dalloway"><span class="s3"><i>Mrs. Dalloway</i></span></a> follows the thoughts, experiences, and memories of several characters on a single day in London. In this passage, the title character, Clarissa Dalloway, watches cars driving by:</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">She had a perpetual sense, as she watched the taxi cabs, of being out, out, far out to sea and alone; she always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day. Not that she thought herself clever, or much out of the ordinary. How she had got through life on the few twigs of knowledge Fraulein Daniels gave them she could not think. She knew nothing; no language, no history; she scarcely read a book now, except memoirs in bed; and yet to her it was absolutely absorbing; all this; the cabs passing; and she would not say of Peter, she would not say of herself, I am this, I am that.</span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Woolf does more than simply say "Mrs. Dalloway watched the taxis and thought about her life." Rather, she lets the reader into the character's thoughts by using long sentences with semicolons to show the slow drift of ideas and the transitions between thoughts. Readers are able to watch as Mrs. Dalloway's mind moves from observations about things she is seeing to reflections on her general attitude towards life, and then moves on to memories from her childhood, then back to the taxi cabs in the street, and finally to Peter, a former romantic interest. This is an excellent example of using associative leaps and sensory impressions to create a stream of consciousness. Woolf manages to convey not only the content but the structure and process of Mrs. Dalloway's thoughts, a fact which is all the more impressive because she does so while writing in the third person.<br />
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Stream of Consciousness in <i>Beloved</i> by Toni Morrison</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Toni Morrison uses stream of consciousness in passages throughout <a href="https://www.litcharts.com/lit/beloved"><span class="s3"><i>Beloved</i></span></a>. In this passage, readers hear the voice of a character named Beloved who seems to be the spirit of the murdered infant of another character named Sethe:</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">I am alone I want to be the two of us I want the join I come out of blue water after the bottoms of my feet swim away from me I come up I need to find a place to be the air is heavy I am not dead I am not there is a house there is what she whispered to me I am where she told me I am not dead I sit the sun closes my eyes when I open them I see the face I lost Sethe's is the face that left me Sethe sees me see her and I see the smile her smiling face is the place for me it is the face I lost she is my face smiling at me</span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Morrison doesn't use proper capitalization or grammar throughout the passage (e.g., "join" is used as a noun). In the place of punctuation, Morrison simply inserts gaps in the text. She also makes use of repetition: when Beloved repeats the words, "I am not dead," she seems to be willing herself to live through a kind of mantra or incantation. Morrison uses run-on sentences and lack of punctuation to show the frantic urgency that Beloved feels when she finds herself alone in death, and to convey her deep desire to be reunited with Sethe—effectively letting readers "listen in" on her thoughts.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Stream of Consciousness in <i>As I Lay Dying</i> by William Faulkner</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Like Virginia Woolf, William Faulkner is known for his use of stream of consciousness. In this passage from his novel <a href="https://www.litcharts.com/lit/as-i-lay-dying"><span class="s3"><i>As I Lay Dying</i></span></a>, the character Jewel expresses his frustration that, as his mother is dying, his half-brother is noisily building her a casket just outside her window. </span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Because I said If you wouldn't keep on sawing and nailing at it until a man cant sleep even and her hands laying on the quilt like two of them roots dug up and tried to wash and you couldn't get them clean. I can see the fan and Dewey Dell's arm. I said if you'd just let her alone. Sawing and knocking, and keeping the air always moving so fast on her face that when you're tired you cant breathe it, and that goddamn adze going One lick less. One lick less. One lick less until everybody that passes in the road will have to stop and see it and say what a fine carpenter he is. If it had just been me when Cash fell off of that church and if it had just been me when pa laid sick with that load of wood fell on him, it would not be happening with every bastard in the county coming in to stare at her because if there is a God what the hell is He for. It would just be me and her on a high hill and me rolling the rocks down the hill faces and teeth and all by God until she was quiet and not that goddamn adze going One lick less. One lick less and we could be quiet.</span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">The repetition of the phrase "one lick less" helps convey the way Jewel seems to bristle at the repetitive noises made by the saw and the adze outside the window, each noisy "lick" a reminder of his mother's impending death. His sentences also take strange turns and arrive at unexpected places, as when he begins a sentence with a memory of Cash falling off a roof, moves on to lament the constant train of visitors to his mother's room, and ends quite memorably by asking (without the use of a question mark) "because if there is a God what the hell is He for." The passage is incredibly effective at depicting the dizzying range of thoughts and emotions Jewel experiences as he visits the room of his dying mother.</span></span></div>
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James Joyces <i>Ulysses</i><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">the last part of Molly Bloom’s famous stream-of-consciousness monologue:</span></span></div>
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ah yes I know them well who was the first person in the universe before there was anybody that made it all who ah that they dont know neither do I so there you are they might as well try to stop the sun from rising tomorrow the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leapyear like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said I was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a womans body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didnt know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;">the jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;">and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharons and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;"> </span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">*</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">B.S. Johnson: </span><i style="font-size: medium;">House Mother Normal<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></i></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;">http://www.id-ds.com/ebooks/HouseMotherNormal/HouseMotherV2.html</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Stream of Consciousness Writing Exercises</span></b></span></div>
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1. Write for three minutes all the thoughts that come into your head in a free-flowing river or torrent of thought.</div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">2. Brainstorm on board: a number of things the characters might be thinking about.</span></span><br />
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">a. Choose who: Astronaut, sailor, Queen, etc.</span></span><br />
b. List the kinds of things they might think about. </div>
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<span class="s1">c. Think about who they might be, how they might think, what is their emotional, developmental and intellectual state. (People in the same place might have an overlap as to what things they think about but might connect them in a different way...or they might also think about different things depending who they are and in what state.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">d. Then join freely in a stream of consciousness passage in first person.</span></span></div>
<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-33957114712379579252018-10-16T17:59:00.001-07:002018-10-16T18:15:25.513-07:00October 17<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://ministryoffiction.blogspot.com/2016/02/the-long-and-short-of-it.html">http://ministryoffiction.blogspot.com/2016/02/the-long-and-short-of-it.html</a><br />
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<i>Blood Meridian</i> by Cormac McCarthy:<br />
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<i>Absalom, Absalom</i> by William Faulkner:</div>
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<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-54031031573927600832018-10-14T17:38:00.000-07:002018-10-14T18:16:50.555-07:00WAIT A SECOND PERSON<style type="text/css">
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">WHY WRITING STORIES IS IMPORTANT<br /><br />Chris Hedges:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: large;">''The assault of global capitalism is not only an economic and political assault. It is a cultural and historical assault. Global capitalism seeks to erase our stories and our histories. Its systems of mass communication, which peddle a fake intimacy with manufactured celebrities and a false sense of belonging within a mercenary consumer culture, shut out our voices, hopes and dreams. Salacious gossip about the elites and entertainers, lurid tales of violence and inane trivia replace in national discourse the actual and the real. The goal is a vast historical amnesia. ''</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">SECOND PERSON</span></b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">“You”</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">—who is actually being addressed?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">Second person: can use “you” or just imply.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span> “Go outside. Look at the sky. Now look at the beach,” </span></span></div>
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<li class="li4"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">1. Can really be a stand-in for an “I”<br />
“you wake up and you’re covered in sweat. You don’t know what’s going on.<br />
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<li class="li4"><span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">2. Or it can actually be a second person that is being spoken to, a specific person.</span></span></li>
</ol>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>In Kafka’s “Letter to My Father” he’s actually addressing his father. <span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>“Dearest Father, <br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>You asked me recently why I maintain that I am afraid of you. As usual, I was unable to <span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>think of any answer to your question, partly for the very reason that I am afraid of you.”</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>A letter form: epistolary novel: letters to someone, or letters back and forth.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">What is the use of using the you? (i.e. second person)<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>It does give a sense of urgency, or urgent address, and/or intimacy</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">C. But more complex use of the “you” exists, complicating the relation between the narrator and <span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>the “you.”</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">EXAMPLES<br />
</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">Calvino: If on a winter’s night a traveller</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">By foregrounding the reading experience, Calvino makes you aware of the artifice and the pleasure of reading, of the book, of story.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">Diaz:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></b></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">-the “narrator” — takes the sensibility of the protagonist — the “you”</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">—uses the language.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">—there’s an intimacy, a kind of empathy — even though the guy is a jerk</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">Lorrie Moore—“How to Become a Writer”</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">—using self-help language</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">—addressing the reader, but providing specific details from another specific life— but the reader <span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>might imagine the parallel details from their own life</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">—why second person here? To make relatable.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">-</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">Leopard by Wells Tower</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">—11 year old protagonist<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">—second person which knows what the character thinks.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>-“Don’t open your eyes. Stick out your tongue.” <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>-the voice is like both 1st and 3rd person combined. Not exactly in the voice of the <span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>protagonist, but seems a bit closer than 3rd limited.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">[Jennifer Egan: <i>A Visit from the Goon Squad-</i></span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><i>-</i>Different chapters of the book use different forms or POV<i><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>-</i>This one is in second person: Access to inner life of character</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>-Why 2nd person: creates urgency, but also makes the kind of<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>3rd person limited type of <span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>details and knowledge of character more believable, maybe making the narrator more <span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>intimiately part of the action, part of the crew.]</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">You shouldn’t do these You things.</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">-avoid beginning every sentence with “you.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">-vary the length and structure of the sentences.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">*</span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s2"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><br /><br />WRITING ACTIVITIES</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s2"><b></b></span><br /></span></div>
<ol class="ol2">
<li class="li4"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><b></b><span class="s1"><b>1. Text describing what someone else did or how they felt.</b></span></span></li>
</ol>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><b><span class="Apple-converted-space"> <span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span></span></b>To teacher, to partner/date, police, doctor, parent, brother, dog.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1" style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>A parent telling their child what they were like as a small child. Peeping Tom decribing what <br />someone was doing.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
</div>
<div class="p4">
</div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1" style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Imagine giving eulogy: “You were always there for me. Your piano. Playing late in the night, you…”</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
</div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1" style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Breakup letter, or love letter.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>“It was always about you. First thing in the morning, you made coffee just for you. Toast. Eggs….”</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>“In that blue shirt, you looked…”</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">Or accusing someone (police, doctor, person on street):</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>“You looked at me like I was dirty. Dangerous. A thief.”</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"> </span></span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">2. Self help story</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span></b>“How to go on a date.” “How to difuse a bomb” “How to cook a goat.” “How to make someone love you.” “How to talk to my mother.”</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>-in describing “how,” you’re really describing how a particular character did this thing or should do that thing. “</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>or Instructions in a ransom note, an accusation.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;">3.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Address the reader. “Dear Reader, you’re <br />
</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1"><span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><b>4. A short piece that is a letter (or text, or IM, etc.)<br />
</b>—why else do people write letters?</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="color: #eeeeee; font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></span></div>
<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-44895009758635669362018-10-14T17:30:00.000-07:002018-10-14T17:30:17.350-07:00YOU KNOW YOU WANNA----SECOND PERSON EXAMPLES<style type="text/css">
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<br />
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="font-size: small;">“The Cheater’s Guide to Love”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Junot Diaz</b><br />
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2012/07/23/the-cheaters-guide-to-love </span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">YEAR 0</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Your girl catches you cheating. (Well, actually she’s your fiancée, but hey, in a bit it so won’t matter.) She could have caught you with one sucia, she could have caught you with two, but because you’re a totally batshit cuero who never empties his e-mail trash can, she caught you with fifty! Sure, over a six-year period, but still. Fifty fucking girls? <i>God damn!</i>Maybe if you’d been engaged to a super-open-minded blanquita you could have survived it—but you’re not engaged to a super-open-minded blanquita. Your girl is a bad-ass salcedense who doesn’t believe in open anything; in fact, the one thing she warned you about, that she swore she would never forgive, was <i>cheating</i>. I’ll put a machete in you, she promised. And, of course, you swore you wouldn’t do it. You swore you wouldn’t. You swore you wouldn’t.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">And you did.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">…</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">You try every trick in the book to keep her. You write her letters. You drive her to work. You quote Neruda. You compose a mass e-mail disowning all your sucias. You block their e-mails. You change your phone number. You stop drinking. You stop smoking. You claim you’re a sex addict and start attending meetings. You blame your father. You blame your mother. You blame the patriarchy. You blame Santo Domingo. You find a therapist. You cancel your Facebook. You give her the passwords to all your e-mail accounts. You start taking salsa classes, like you always swore you would, so that the two of you can dance together. You claim that you were sick, you claim that you were weak. And every hour, like clockwork, you say that you’re <i>so so</i> sorry. You try it all, but one day she simply sits up in bed and says, <i>No more</i>, and, <i>Ya</i>, and asks you to move from the Harlem apartment that you two share when you’re not teaching in Boston. You consider not going. You consider a squat protest. In fact, you say you won’t go. But, in the end, you do.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">For a while you haunt the city, like a two-bit ballplayer dreaming of a call-up. You phone her every day and leave messages that she doesn’t answer. You write her long sensitive letters, which she returns unopened. You even show up at her apartment at odd hours, and at her job downtown, until finally her little sister calls you, the one who was always on your side, and she makes it plain: If you try to contact my sister again, she’s going to put a restraining order on you.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">For some Negroes that wouldn’t mean shit.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">But you ain’t that kind of Negro.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">You stop. You move back to Boston. You never see her again.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
<b><i>If on a winter's night a traveler </i>(Section I—excerpt)</b></span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"><b><i></i></b></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Italo Calvino</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino's new novel, <i>If on a winter's night a traveler.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Relax. Concentrate. Dispel every other thought. Let the world around you fade. Best to close the door; the TV is always on in the next room. Tell the others right away, "No, I don't want to watch TV!” Raise your voice—they won't hear you otherwise—"I'm reading! I don't want to be disturbed!"Maybe they haven't heard you, with all that racket; speak louder, yell: "I'm beginning to read Italo Calvino's new novel!" Or if you prefer, don't say anything; just hope they'll leave you alone. Find the most comfortable position: seated, stretched out, curled up, or lying flat. Flat on your back, on your side, on your stomach. In an easy chair, on the sofa, in the rocker, the deck chair, on the hassock. In the hammock, if you have a hammock. On top of your bed, of course, or in the bed.You can even stand on your hands, head down, in the yoga position. With the book upside down, naturally.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">…</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Well, what are you waiting for? Stretch your legs, go ahead and put your feet on a cushion, on two cushions, on the arms of the sofa, on the wings of the chair, on the coffee table, on the desk, on the piano, on the globe. Take your shoes off first. If you want to, put your feet up; if not, put them back. Now don't stand there with your shoes in one hand and the book in the other.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Adjust the light so you won't strain your eyes. Do it now, because once you're absorbed in reading there will be no budging you. Make sure the page isn't in shadow, a clotting of black letters on a gray background, uniform as a pack of mice; but be careful that the light cast on it isn't too strong, doesn't glare on the cruel white of the paper, gnawing at the shadows of the letters as in a southern noonday. Try to foresee now everything that might make you interrupt your reading. Cigarettes within reach, if you smoke, and the ashtray. Anything else? Do you have to pee? All right, you know best.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
“How to Become a Writer”<br />
by Lorrie Moore</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s2"><a href="http://www.sfuadcnf.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/How-to-Become-a-Writer-Lorrie-Moore.pdf">http://www.sfuadcnf.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/How-to-Become-a-Writer-Lorrie-Moore.pdf</a></span><span class="s1"><br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Stolen </i>by Lucy Christopher</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“You saw me before I saw you. In the airport, the day in August, you had that look in your eyes, as though you wanted something from me, as though you wanted it for a long time. No one had ever looked at me like that before, with that kind of intensity. It unsettled me, surprised me, I guess. Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up.”</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">…</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“There is a thing murderers always do in horror films: take their victims out on a long drive to a stunning location before they creatively pull them apart. It’s in all the famous films, all the ones with murders in the middle of nowhere anyway. When you woke me up that morning, the day after you’d nearly hit me, I thought about that.</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“We’re going on a drive,” you said. “To catch a camel.”</span></span></div>
<div class="p4">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">It was very early. I could tell by the pale pinkish-white light and the cool in the air. I got dressed and put the knife into the pocket of my shorts. I could hear you moving and creaking around the house. Then you went outside and started the car. You were surrounding me with noise. I wasn’t used to it. I took my time getting ready. I knew two things: On the one hand, a trip like this could mean a greater opportunity for escape. On the other, it might mean I’d never return.”</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>“Leopard”</b></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>By </b><a href="https://www.newyorker.com/contributors/wells-tower"><b>Wells Tower</b></a></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p5">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2008/11/10/leopard</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Good morning.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">You have not slept well. Don’t open your eyes. Stick out your tongue. Search for the little sore above your upper lip. Pray that it healed in the night.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">No luck. Still there, rough to the tongue, and though it’s very small, not even the diameter of a pencil eraser, it feels much larger. Your mother says it’s a harmless fungal infection, and she pities you less for it than she should.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">A tiny hamburger is what the fungus resembles, cracked and brown and perfectly centered in the little fluted area between your septum and upper lip. Yesterday, in the cafeteria, Josh Mohorn pointed out the similarity before a table of your friends. A painful thing, considering how much you would like to be Josh Mohorn. He turned to you and said, “Hey, Yancy, do me a favor.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“What’s up?” you said, excited by the rare pleasure of Josh’s attention.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Could you take that seat down there?” he said, gesturing toward the far end of the table. “I can’t eat my lunch with your fucking burger in my face.”</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Even you had to admire the succinct poetry of the line, which launched an instant craze of everyone jeering and calling you Burger King, or Patty, or All Beef, the name that stuck for the rest of the day and that will surely greet you this morning at school. You are eleven years old, the age that our essences begin revealing themselves, irremediably, to us and to the world. Just as Josh Mohorn is irremediably a soccer ace and a clothes ace, with feathered hair and white bucks, you are irremediably a fungus man.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Don’t go to school today. Play sick.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Your mother comes in to wake you. Around the house, she wears paint-spattered jeans and old T-shirts, through whose slack sleeves you often catch sight of her underarm hair. But this morning she is dressed for work in a blue sateen blouse and tight white slacks, clothes that speak of a secret life. “I don’t feel good,” you tell your mother.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Where? In your stomach?”</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Yeah,” you say.</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“Oh, God,” she says. “I hope it’s not that thing that’s been going around.”</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“I don’t know what it is,” you say, panting shallowly. “It just really hurts.”</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">…</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“What, you want to stay home?”</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">Swallow again. Close your eyes. “I don’t know. I guess.”</span></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: small;">“O.K.”</span></span></div>
<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-73833104773646527952018-10-03T09:16:00.002-07:002018-10-03T10:38:41.836-07:00Oral Storytelling<style type="text/css">
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<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—storytelling that replicates how a storyteller speaks, an actual person telling a story, or story conventions which are derived from oral tradition.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p3">
<span class="s1">IN the sea, once upon a time, O my Best Beloved, there was a Whale, and he ate fishes. He ate the starfish and the garfish, and the crab and the dab, and the plaice and the dace, and the skate and his mate, and the mackereel and the pickereel, and the really truly twirly-whirly eel. All the fishes he could find in all the sea he ate with his mouth—so!<br />
</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">James Joyce—<i>Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></i></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p4">
<span class="s1">Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p6">
<span class="s1">His father told him that story: his father looked at him through a glass: he had a hairy face.</span></div>
<div class="p6">
<span class="s1">He was baby tuckoo. The moocow came down the road where Betty Byrne lived: she sold lemon platt.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">O, the wild rose blossoms</span><span class="s2"><br />
</span><span class="s1">On the little green place.</span></div>
<div class="p6">
<span class="s2"><br />
</span><span class="s1">He sang that song. That was his song.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span>*<br />
Kafka's A Report to an Academy.<br />
It's a speech.<br />
"Honored Members of the Academy!<br />
You have done me the honor of inviting me to give your Academy an account of the life I formerly led as an ape...."</div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—Tom King —<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-indigenous writer</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-brilliant satirist, particularly in terms of playing with settler stereotypes of Indigenous people</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-interesting in how stories and how they are told convey culture, identity and convey how we think of other culture, of power structures</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br />
<b>who is this story for? who's POV? sensibility does it channel?</b></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-this is a “trickster” tale. also a origin tales (cf. Genesis)<br />
-it refers to its own storicity as authority.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span> I heard this story once…</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>-transitions, beginnings that show ostensible oral nature of this story.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>cf. Come Gather Round while I sing you a song.</b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>or the beginning of Beowulf. “Hark.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">“Alright. You know.” “So.” “Anyway.”</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>“How about a story, that one says.” “Sure I says.” — the way someone reccounting something that happened to them might speak as opposed to a literary reccounting.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>add to pacing, are a rhetorical structure — control how you hear the story, its pacing. put you consciously in “storytelling” style rather than just short story</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>-lists, parallel structures—repetition. “Alright.” (vocal mannerisms.)</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span></b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>older oral story telling structure. Think of the Bible, or a sermon, or a speech.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>“ We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender,</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>-tone — “slang”</b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>-one good story that one</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>-slang terms, humour,—tense.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>— it’s present not past</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>so I says to my buddy…</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>—length of sentences</b> —- lots of fragments, or short sentences:</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>“All white.” “Too bad, those.”</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>often simpler tone and sentence structure in oral narratives.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—often folktales tell the origin story of something. How the Leopard got its spots.Why they call a certain place by a certain name.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—<b>description—</b>not a lot of description, more a reccounting of a plot, of what happened.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>Meta </b>— self awareness of this story</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-do we believe this narrator? what shows us there’s an element of parody, and we perhaps shouldn’t believe the tone of the narrator</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-self-aware/meta—-anthropologists with tape recorders & cameras, looking for an Indigenous story.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b>The Ending</b>—“I clean up all the coyote tracks on the floor”<br />
<br />
<b>Riffing off another story</b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">-this story retells the fall from the Garden of Eden. It make it Indigenous. It’s a speaking back to high culture. Oral story telling — variant versions, and also often told from the perspective and in the tone of the less powerful. “Myth & History” as opposed to “Folktale and story.”</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Writing activity.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—imagine a stand-up comedian and how they tell stories.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">what techniques they use.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">—use a storytelling model. Idioms, slang, transitions, repetition, dialogue, plot</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">I’m going to tell you a story that happened to a friend of mine.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">A joke: a rabbi, a priest and a Lady Gaga walk into a bar…</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>The rabbi says….</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">This is the story of<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>—my first day at school…the first time I….</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>______</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">If more needed: Guided Missiles story.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">three terms to include in short story // three characters</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>ideas from class</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">(reference Calvino’s Castle of Cross Destiny.)</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1">Dialogue.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>A History of Awkward Silence.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><span class="Apple-tab-span"> </span>Beth’s two client pocket dialing here. How does what they say convey who they are, what they are doing, and where they are. Write with minimum of details outside the dialogue.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div>
<br />gary barwinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05063921311334434357noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-971202347656095770.post-2955317607312347582018-10-03T08:59:00.001-07:002018-10-03T08:59:44.252-07:00Oral Narrative. One Good Story That One--Thomas King<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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