It has been too many days since I have had time to write. I find myself writing in my mind in the moments before I sleep, as I walk around the track, as I drive in the car: anytime that things get quiet. What is it that drives us creatively. I have felt this throughout my life manifesting in different directions. I must sew or quilt or paint, draw, sculpt, write… something, some outlet. Why? Does everyone feel like this? Perhaps they do.
I sat in writing class last night, and lamented that I am not the writer that I wish I were – a familiar feeling but very intense this time. There is this guy in my class that, simply put, has it. He has a gift and then he told us it wasn’t really hard work for him. Which rather pissed me off. I would still like to think he was lying. I would prefer to see him at least working hard to produce what he did. Again, I hope he was lying. I am not him and I never will be. Almendras amargosas – Bitter almonds! However at one point Jim Berg said aloud what I was thinking - that reading Jared’s writing made him want to put the pen down and never pick it up again. I was glad someone else felt it. Then Jim said Jared’s writing was fine wine and that his own, Jim’s, was pizza. And suddenly I thought, I like pizza. Is it that simple? I mean truthfully, a lot of people like pizza right? Maybe I won’t ever be Jared Ninness but I will be pizza. And I like pizza.
Tati said,
April 4, 2010 at 4:53 am
I love pizza and I hate fine wine. I love your ending line. I read this to mat because I enjoyed it so much. And he laughed heartily and from the gut. He really liked this too. HI, my name is Tatiana, and I LIKE PIZZA! I love your writing and I love that it has so much heart and soul put into it. And I love you! <3
I thought you might enjoy this story, it reminded me vaguely of your "I'm not the most beautiful woman in the room" story. http://www.nytimes.com/books/first/h/hampl-stories.html
Tati said,
April 4, 2010 at 4:55 am
Darn it just takes you to the log in page. Umm look up “red sky morning” by patricia hampl.
Ms. Goodnight said,
April 5, 2010 at 3:19 pm
Wait a minute – I know that one! He is the blonde demi-god and she is the older fatty in the flowered dress. She says – “I could tell you stories”. I loved that one – for very obvious reasons!
Jared said,
April 10, 2010 at 11:31 am
Kelly, I’d love to tell you that I’d poured blood, sweat, and tears into that piece, that I’d reached deep into my soul and channeled the very essence of my creative being into the tremendous effort of creating such flawless prose. Alas, the truth is that — please don’t hate me — it’s something I just quickly wrote out one afternoon because I realized the assignment was due.
To go on a slight tangent, I’m sure you’ve noticed that without Jim Lyddane leading the workshop discussions, we haven’t really been discussing the stories very much at all; instead, we’ve been largely focused on the technical aspects of the writing, something that Lyddane tends to gloss over in favor of addressing the issues of plot structure and character development.
The fact is, yes, I am a highly capable writer in the technical sense — I can write beautiful prose, and I can do it without a great deal of effort; and yet as flattering as Jim Berg’s comparison between my writing and fine wine was, I really don’t think it fit very well with regards to that particular piece. To be honest, the story didn’t deserve the kind of praise it received.
If Jim Lyddane had been around to discuss the piece, I’m certain he would have put on the deep, philisophical voice and pulled out the “What does it mean?” card, and I can guarantee you the response would have had a room full of blank faces, mine included.
You say that I have it, but what exactly is it that I have? Think about that beautiful opening line everyone seemed to like so much — it certainly sounded nice, but what did it actually mean? I sure as hell don’t know; I was just using a layer of pretty words and random imagery to distract from the incoherent mess underneath. Not intentionally, mind you, but that’s just how it so often works out for me.
You might think writing the way I do is a gift, but it’s really not. I gave up practicing the guitar every day and started practicing writing every day instead, and my writing has been steadily improving ever since. It’s very much a learned skill. And yet for all the improvement I’ve gone through, this is my fourth writing workshop at MCC and I haven’t written a story the class has understood since the first semester. I’d love to be a pretentious jerk and say it’s because my writing is so amazing and elevated that it just goes over everyone’s head, but that’s not really the case.
The truth is that your story blew mine out of the water — your prose might not be as polished as mine, but you tackled an incredibly serious subject and handled it in a truly impressive manner. Just as you might have felt you aren’t the writer you want to be when you read my story, I felt the same way when I read yours. As a writer, I seem to be continuously haunted by the comments of Fernanda Anguiano, a talented writer from the previous two workshops: “I have no idea what it means, but I love it anyway!”
If that’s what it means to be fine wine, I think I’d rather be pizza.
Samara said,
April 23, 2010 at 4:38 pm
I really need to start jumping on the wordpress band wagon. Jared, I am so happy that you responded to Kelly’s blog, as i too was a little miffed with myself that night. I will openly, honestly, and unabashedly say that I thrive on the praise of others. It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, but it’s what motivates me in this class.
That being said, I HATE FOLLOWING YOU IN CLASS! I want to strangle you at times (and I mean this in the most complimentary way possible). It’s one thing to feel like you’re on par with your classmates. I like that. It’s a good feeling. But then POOF! We get bitch-slapped out of nowhere by “Every night at 6:30, Paris slits her wrist.” Good GOD man. You might be faking it, and just using really beautiful prose, but for those of us that struggle with our wording on a daily basis, it’s almost disheartening when we hear that it was easy.
I don’t hold this against you in the least. I envy you. I’ve got a little green monster running around in my brain poking me with a sharp stick because half the class didn’t get my Twilight reference, but they were able to pick up on all the complex language you had in yours. Damn you and Zeigeist! Or.. Zeitgeist. <>
At any rate… You were my main inspiration for this week’s story. I hate being lumped into the “sarcastic comedy” group. I can do it, sure. I’m fairly confident in my dialog. And most of the class has found my work this semester to be amusing. Deep, though? Nope. So, you — you and your darkened underground jazz bar — are what made me write about the Mason Jar. As pizza-y as it came out.
And with that, I’m done and I’m going to sign up on this site and actually get a blog going. I’m finding I like to actually get paid to write, but it’ll be nice to write what I want for a change and not about random topics that get assigned to me. Curb appeal pros and cons… sigh.