Fenton Johnson on Workshops

Perhaps the most useful aspect of a workshop—more useful than the critiques, which are often all over the map—is the irreplaceable and salutary terror of public performance. Putting up a piece before a workshop is in effect publishing it, and the workshop offers many new writers their first exposure to the very best teaching tool, which is one’s own self-recrimination after putting up a piece that the writer knew in her/his heart wasn’t quite ready. – Fenton Johnson, in VQR’s “Thoughts on the Process: a Conversation about Writing with Fenton Johnson”

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Posted on 15 Sep 2009 | Comments Off

Perhaps the most useful aspect of a workshop

Perhaps the most useful aspect of a workshop—more useful than the critiques, which are often all over the map—is the irreplaceable and salutary terror of public performance. Putting up a piece before a workshop is in effect publishing it, and the workshop offers many new writers their first exposure to the very best teaching tool, which is one’s own self-recrimination after putting up a piece that the writer knew in her/his heart wasn’t quite ready.Fenton Johnson, in VQR’s “Thoughts on the Process: a Conversation about Writing with Fenton Johnson”

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Posted on 15 Sep 2009 | Comments Off

eight years ago

In remembrance of 9/11, I am sharing these excerpts from my written reactions eight years ago. From 11 September 2001, “the act itself”: On the way to work I heard a cor­re­spon­dent on the radio say some­thing about how the act itself was shock­ing, but the fact that it hap­pened was not. This is the scari­est thing I’ve ever heard. From 12 September 2001, “the aftermath”: I do not want vengeance. I do not want more vio­lence, and I espe­cially do not want more civil­ians — inno­cent peo­ple, regard­less of nation­al­ity — to die. I real­ize how seri­ous this act was, and is, and I real­ize that our gov­ern­ment will exact pun­ish­ment on those it thinks are respon­si­ble. I also real­ize we may be wrong. If...

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Posted on 11 Sep 2009 | 2 comments

when the flock moved

I know pigeons are rats with wings, but when the flock moved, I stopped. I closed my eyes and felt wings on my shoulders. Soft squeaks accompanied each flap. I pretended to move with the flock, standing still, pretended the concrete fell away and down, and I, fixed in the world, flying. Two seconds passed. When I opened my eyes, the wedge of sidewalk had emptied. No more rats with wings. No more me as I was before; no more pretend flight. I don’t learn the hard way, three-act mistakes dripping in diamonds and denouement. My lessons are little, sudden, sharp, gone.

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Posted on 8 Sep 2009 | 4 comments

facebook exodus

It wasn’t a compliment when an acquaintance told me that I live more of my life online than anyone else she knows. These words have been haunting me lately as I examine my life and my priorities. Then I read “Facebook Exodus” on NYTimes.com, this quote in particular: “The more dependent we allow ourselves to become to something like Facebook — and Facebook does everything in its power to make you more dependent — the more Facebook can and does abuse us,” Harmsen explained by indignant e-mail. “It is not ‘your’ Facebook profile. It is Facebook’s profile about you.” Facebook isn’t the first, nor will it be the last, online community to be abandoned en masse. Will we divulge even more of...

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Posted on 1 Sep 2009 | 4 comments