[stylist] Writing Exercises from Patricia Foster

[KajunCutie926 at aol.com]

I dot it too Priscilla...  thanks..))
 
 
In a message dated 10/26/2010 2:03:02 P.M. Central Daylight Time,  
priscilla.mckinley at gmail.com writes:

Did  anyone get this email?  I didn't receive it in my  inbox.

Thanks,

Priscilla



On 10/26/10, Priscilla  McKinley <priscilla.mckinley at gmail.com> wrote:
> I'm trying to  send this again.  Can we not send attachments?
>
>
>  Hey, listers,
>
> I just received the writing exercises from  Patricia Foster, our guest
> speaker on Sunday night.  She told me  to let you know that these are
> responses to other readings but that  some will work without the
> readings.  She will get the book list  together later, as she is rather
> busy right now.  Also, she said  that she enjoyed chatting with
> everyone on the conference  call.
>
> I am pasting, as well as attaching, the  exercises.
>
> Thanks,
>
>  Priscilla
>
>
> 1.  First Things First: an exercise in  memory
>
> You can use Edward Jones’ “The First Day” and Primo  Levi’s “The
> Disciple” as examples.
>
> Write about a first  – yours or someone else’s.  First haircut.  First
> airplane  ride.  First day of school.  First date.  First job.   First
> lie.  First move to another city.  First hospital  stay.  First time
> eating ice cream or tiramisu.
>
>  Begin “in” the moment of action: the flash of the barber’s scissors
>  above your left ear as he leans over to cut into your dark, tangled
>  hair; rubbing the crumbs of a piece of toast on your nubby pajamas on
>  the morning of your first day at Longfellow school.
>
> Remember  to include sights and smells and sounds and textures that add
>  particularity to your memory.
>
> Remember that underneath each  concrete story there will be other
> firsts: the first recognition of  aloneness, the first stirrings of
> shame, the first time falling in  love with a place, the first foray
> into grief.
>
>  Concentrate on focusing your action with a single scene – or a series
>  of scenes.  A scene: action that takes place in a specific time  and
> place.
>
> 2.  MEMORY – Revising  History
>
> We know that memory is fickle, that we consciously and  unconsciously
> remember events in certain ways to protect ourselves, to  dramatize
> ourselves, to make things more exciting.  Sometimes we  do not really
> know what happened and our minds intuitively fill in the  gaps.
>
> In both “The Harvest” (Amy Hempel) and  “Snow”  (Anne Beattie) the
> narrators reveal the slipperiness of memory, how an  event – an
> accident, for example – can be told in such a way as to  leave many
> things out or how our memory of a time in our lives can be  different
> from the memory of another person who experienced the same  moments.
>
> First:
>
> In this exercise, I want you  to write about a particular event – an
> accident, a sudden illness, a  dismissal, a moment in combat.   Write
> as close to the  action as possible so that you place the reader “in”
> the moment of  disruption.  Write in past tense and begin with “I
> remember. .  .”
>
> Later:
>
> Go back to your exercise and look at  what you’ve left out and/or what
> another person might have remembered  differently.  Do one of 2 things:
>
> 1.    Add a  postscript (along the lines of what Amy Hempel does in “The
> Harvest”)  of what you left out (and implicitly why you left it out).
> 2.   Add someone’s differing memory as counterpoint (“You remember  it
> differently. . .”) and then some kind of synthesis or  commentary
> (“This, then, for drama. . .”)
> 3.    Let  the reader see how feelings change with misinformation as in
>  “Accident.”
>
>
> 3.  Using Gesture and Mannerism in  Creating Character
>
> First:
>
> After reading  William Boyd’s “Beginning”:
>
> Character can be revealed through  action, dialogue, as well as through
> mannerism and gesture. Many times  writers depend too much on action –
> what happens – to reveal character  whereas description of mannerisms
> and gestures tell us as much as we  need.  Character can be achieved
> through  brushstrokes.   The literary critic, James Woods, gives this
>  example from Maupassant’s story “La Reine Hortense”:  “He was a
>  gentleman with red whiskers who always went first through a  doorway.”
>
> 1.    Consider an important character in  your history/story.  Think of a
> gesture or mannerism or  expression that pushes you to see this
> someone: red whiskers; unshaved  bristles on his cheekbones;  going
> first through a doorway,  etc.   Begin with a particular circumstance
> that leads to  remembering.
>
> 2.    Why do I go on about this?   Tell the reader why you are obsessed
> with this person, why she/he is  important to your story.
>
> 3.    Draw a picture of the  place (room, car, beneath the tree) where
> this takes place.  Put  whatever details/objects might be in this
> place.  Where are  you?  What are you doing?  Describe the scene.
>
>  4.    Show this person in a moment of action.  It might be as  simple as
> washing dishes or turning down the a/c or as important as  slapping
> someone’s face.  Let yourself imagine what this person  is thinking.
> Ask this person a question you’ve never asked before but  always wanted
> to know.  Imagine the person answering, then  returning to the activity
> of the beginning.
>
>
>  4.  Emblematic Moments – Creating Scenes
>
> Readings:   “What Happened During the Ice Storm”; “Illumination
> Rounds”; “Killing  Chickens”; excerpt from Matterhorn.
>
> Scenes represent moments  of choice or turning points.  Here, something
> (often difficult)  is decided or revealed that changes the direction of
> the  narrative.  Scenes represent immediacy, something happening
>  “before your eyes.”
>
> In-class
>
> Choose a moment  in which you – or your character – make a decision.
> We will start with  a moment in childhood, something that still has
> emotional weight in  your life.  It might be a moment when you betray
> or save  someone/something close to you or are betrayed/saved by
> someone  else.  Once again, we will stay very close to the moment
> itself,  revealing ‘what happens’ as if through a close-up lens.  We
> will  use “What Happened During the Ice Storm” as our guide – a small
> action  that is redemptive (though if you go the betrayal route, then
> you’ll  be showing the opposite – though both sides reveal
>  vulnerability).
>
>
> 5.   Immersion/Immediacy/Atmosphere
>
> Think of an incident from your  past that happened in a particular
> atmosphere: at night; while it was  raining; in a storm; during a snowy
> morning; in extreme heat or  fog.  Choose an incident that has some
> meaning to you, one that  provokes some strong emotion and feeling.
> The feeling could be  positive or negative – a moment when you felt
> frightened, isolated,  safe, euphoric, powerful.  Try to remember as
> much detail as you  can about the event and about the physical nature
> of the  atmosphere.  Consider how the atmosphere becomes a significant
>  part of the event, how it plays a role in your memory, becomes if not
>  a character, then a defining aspect of the event.
>
> Write as  close to the moment/incident as possible. Write in first
> person,  present tense as if you are right there, re-living it.
>
>  Retrospective Point of View/Atmosphere
>
> Now that you’ve written  a close-up of this incident, take a different
> tact:  look at the  incident from your current perspective but write in
> third person, past  tense.  Let us see the same incident but allow the
> narrator to  have, perhaps, a different cognition on the event and the
> people  involved.  The retrospective narrator might comment on this
>  moment in a way that suggests how time changes your perspective
>  (sympathies, decisions, even moral  concerns).
>
>
>
>
> 6.  FORM: A Day in the  Life
>
>  This kind of essay often takes a journalistic  stance, reporting the
> “contents” of a day, often for one or two  purposes: to show an
> ordinary side of strange, remote lives or to show  a strange side of
> ordinary, familiar lives.  In the case of  Robert Heilman’s essay
> “Overstory: Zero,” perhaps it is the  latter.  In this essay, Heilman
> breaks up and names the parts of  his day – making the form modular –
> and takes the reader deeper into  the politics of a company
> reforestation crew.
>
>  Formally, he uses second person point of view, present tense, modular
>  structure.
>
> In this exercise, I want you to consider the  modular structure and do
> the following: pick an area of your life that  lends itself to
> dailiness and to a revelation of the day’s  meaning.   It might be your
> job; it might be your social  activities; it might be volunteer work;
> it might be “A Day in the Life  of a Loafer” or “A Day in the Life of a
> Waitress,” or “A Day in the  Life of a Single Mom/Dad” or “A Day in the
> Life of an Asian  Traveler.”
>
> The main thing is to find something that compels  you, that seems ripe
> for unraveling.  And something you haven’t  written about before.
>
> To simplify the exercise, consider it as  having four parts:
>
> 1.    Beginning of a day – the  introduction to your story (this doesn’t
> mean it has to start in the  morning, by the way).  The beginning of
> your particular story as  a hitchhiker in Nepal may begin at 2:30 in
> the afternoon when you’re  dying of thirst.
> 2.    A list – Just as Heilman gives a list  of what he takes with him in
> “Kamikazes,” make a list that is  important to this person’s life.
> Incorporate it into a  paragraph.
> 3.    An Event – something that “happens” and can  be told as a story.
> Ex: you spill salad dressing all over a customer  and the customer
> first yells, but then charms you and leaves you a big  tip; you sleep
> through a test and in your panic at what you’ve done,  you rush out
> into traffic and immediately make an illegal turn and get  a ticket.
> Something happens!
> 4.    End of day – a  “moment” that reflects the day’s  waning.
>
>
>
>
> 7.  Sequence/Scene  (fiction)
>
> This is a long exercise in sequence. The point is to  explore how a
> story moves from a situation to a complication to a  turning.  We will
> explore this not as an intellectual concept but  through process.  In
> the process we will look at the close-up  scene, the flashback moment,
> the movement from emotional response to  action.  If you are already
> working on a character, feel free to  use this character in the
> exercise.  If not, the exercise will  evoke a character.
>
>
> I will give you the first sentence  of a situation and then prompts to
> stay in sense memory.  Stay  with character.
>
> Situation: 1) waking up not in your bed.   You feel surprise and
> anxiety.  Look around the room.  Let  us see the room through the
> senses – the light, the sounds, the  smells, the objects, your
> narrator’s body.
>
> 2) Let one  particular object catch your attention and suggest a strong
> connection  to your anxiety.  Touch it.  Experience it  sensually.
>
>  3). Let this object evoke a memory, one based  on wanting, desiring
> something, a surface thing you want: a touch, a  gesture, an object.
> Experience this surface thing through your  character’s sensibility.
>
> 4). Let the memory of this desire  include a moment when a second
> memory is evoked.  This second  memory involves another object,
> different from the one you are  touching or wanting but similar in its
> basic sensual pattern.   The wanting deepens into a state of being, a
> state of  self.
>
> 5). Second memory moves you to an action.  Let the  action happen
> moment by moment.
>
> 6).  Some part of  the action will bring you back to the first object.
> Your sensual  perception is reshaped by emotion and yearning of the two
> linked  memories.
>
> 7). Now in the present you take an  action.
>
>
>
> 8.  Creating Shape in  Scene:  Image as Strategic Bookend
>
> Choose a person you  know well, someone with whom you have had intense
> engagement  (pleasure/disagreements/issues) in the past.  Let yourself
> drift  back to a particular moment with this person.
>
> 1.     Start with an image.  For example, describe this person’s hands
>  (one or two sentences).
> 2.    Narrate an action.   Describe something she is doing with her hands
> (this may be only a  small task: your grandmother wiping her hands with
> a dish  towel).
> 3.    Describe something about the surroundings,  giving the reader a
> sense of where you are and what the situation is  (in the kitchen with
> your grandmother while she peels carrots and you  sulk at the table
> because your boyfriend didn’t call).
>  4.    Ask this person a question you’ve always wanted to ask or  begin a
> dialogue about the problem or issue (Did your grandfather ever  ignore
> her this way?).
> 5.    Let the question be a  catalyst for a scene.  If in real life you
> didn’t ask a question  directly, but always wanted to, you can push the
> scene by imagining  the other person’s response and telling the reader
> that this is a  dialogue in your head.  Imagining the response is not
>  cheating.  It’s a legitimate way to let the reader see more  deeply
> into your character and into your perception of the other  person.
> 6.    Come back to the image of the person’s  hands.  The image will be
> slightly different because the  narrator’s perception has been aroused
> by the  exchange.
>
> The important thing in this exercise is progression  from image to
> action to setting to conflict and back to  image.
>

_______________________________________________
Writers  Division web site:
http://www.nfb-writers-division.org  <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>

stylist mailing  list
stylist at nfbnet.org
http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
To  unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for  
stylist:
http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/kajuncutie926%40aol
.com