Greetings, writers—
Welcome to a no-paywall Wednesday post and an invitation to sign up for a writing class that I’m teaching in July. It’s designed to be low stakes but high reward! Details here:
Can you tell a story in a single page? In a single paragraph? In this three-hour, in-person workshop dedicated to the short-short story, we’ll read examples of microfiction and discuss how the authors create entire worlds in tightly compressed spaces. We’ll consider structure, voice, characterization, plot, and more, and use what we’ve learned to generate our own pieces of extremely short fiction (or memoir). Since constraints so often spark creativity, we’ll be working with prompts and other encouragements, and you’ll walk away from the class with at least one short-short-short story in your pocket. (Literally: If you bring your computer, we’ll print your piece out.)
When: July 22, 10 am-1 pm
Where: The Writers’ Block in downtown Portland
How much: $100
Have any questions? Want to sign up? Hit reply to this newsletter, or send an email to writingisagoodidea@substack.com.
Okay! I hope to see a handful of you in person, which is so fun.
And now, without further ado, the post itself:
About a million years ago, I lived in New York and co-ran a very very cool reading series called KGB Sunday Night Fiction. (Just to be clear, its coolness predated me; I don’t know how Ken Foster, the series’ founder, did it, but he made a “funky East Village watering hole, once the expat meeting house of Ukrainian socialists… into one of the choicest venues for literary talent.” That quote comes from the jacket copy of On the Rocks, the second short-story anthology to come out of the series. The first was The KGB Bar Reader. There was also The KGB Bar Book of Poems. Good stuff!)
To book authors for the series, I’d comb through publishers’ catalogues, see who had books coming out during which months, and then just call up the publicists: “Hi, I see that Colum McCann’s book (or Amitav Ghosh’s book, or ZZ Packer’s book, etc.) is coming out in September. Can he read for us on the 10th?” And usually, the publicists said yes. It was like ordering a sweater from a J. Crew catalogue, except so much more exciting.
There are many good KGB stories, including one about the night that Colum couldn’t come drinking with us after a photo shoot because he called his wife from a payphone and she told him that he wasn’t allowed, but today I would like to recall the night we had Gary Indiana read for us, the reason for this indulgence being I belatedly read an April interview with Gary in the Times, and he had something to say about writing that really resonated with me, and which I swear I am going to get to in one of these paragraphs.
When I introduced myself to Gary that night in 2000-whatever, he gave me a lightning-fast up-down and thereafter looked at me as if I were a piece of gum that had somehow gotten stuck to the bottom of his shoe as opposed to the person who had invited him to read and who would shortly be introducing him to the crowd. I was offended, I guess, but also weirdly elated. People are rarely so open in their contempt!
(This reminds me of a time Jon and I went out to breakfast here in Portland, and after the waitress huffed off with our orders, he said, with obvious pleasure, “She was refreshingly rude.”)
But fine, fine, what did Gary Indiana have to say about writing?
Well, for one thing, he said that he procrastinates “in any way [he] can.” I love this because while I no longer act like a procrastinator, I still am one in my heart of hearts.
[Indiana’s books include Horse Crazy, a trilogy of crime novels (Resentment, Three Month Fever, and Depraved Indifference), Do Everything in the Dark, Rent Boy, and several works of nonfiction—so he’s obviously putting in the work hours. But he still considers himself “a talented amateur.”)]
But here’s the quote that struck me:
I don’t have writer’s block, exactly, but I have writer’s hesitation. It depends on where my energy level is or how much I want to avoid it.
I’m always on here telling you (and by extension, myself) that it’s important just to show up and start typing. And I stand by that. You don’t get inspired and start writing; you start writing and then the inspiration comes.
But the hesitation is real. A wise person once said to me that when it comes to writing, sometimes the work is in the wanting. You have to want the thing more than you want to avoid the thing, and that’s harder than it sounds.
All right then. Rather than try to tie up this blathering with a nice, neat conclusion, I’m just going to offer a prompt.
Write a scene in which someone who expects to be treated in a particular way is treated in an entirely different way. Bonus points for comedy. Also, bonus points for anyone who ever sends me something they’ve written in response to a prompt.
Happy writing—
And if you’re local, sign up for the class!
Emily
Ooooh, I wish I were in town for this class! And I love the idea creating worlds in tightly compressed spaces — little snapshots.