The Writer's Notebook II continues in the tradition of The Writer's Notebook, featuring essays based on craft seminars from the Tin House Summer Writer's Workshop, as well as a variety of craft essays from Tin House magazine contributors and Tin House Books authors. The collection includes essays that not only examine important craft aspects such as humor, suspense, and research but that also explore creating fractured and nonrealist narratives and the role of dream in fiction. An engaging and enlightening read, The Writer's Notebook II is both a toolkit and an inspiration for any writer.
The Writer’s Notebook II offers aspiring authors sixteen insightful essays about the craft of writing by Tin House authors and summer workshop faculty members, including Aimee Bender, Steve Almond, Maggie Nelson, Karen Russell, Benjamin Percy, and others.
Contents: Introduction / Francise Prose -- Beginnings / Ann Hood -- Don't write what you know / Bret Anthony Johnston -- Funny is the new deep: an exploration of the comic impulse / Steve Almond -- Research in fiction / Andrea Barrett -- The sword of Damocles: on suspense, shower murders, and shooting people on the beach / Anthony Doerr -- "A sort of leaning against": writing with, from, and for others / Maggie Nelson -- The experience in between: thoughts on nonlinear narrative / Adam Braver -- On the making of orchards / Aimee Bender -- Get a job: the importance of work in prose and poetry / Benjamin Percy -- Short story: a process of revision / Antonya Nelson -- There interposed a [blank]: a few considerations of poetic drama / Mary Szybist -- Story & dream / Jim Krusoe -- Do something / Christopher R. Beha -- Engineering impossible architectures / Karen Russell -- Endings: parting is such sweet sorrow / Elissa Schappell.
Francine Prose is the author of twenty works of fiction. Her novel A Changed Man won the Dayton Literary Peace Prize, and Blue Angel was a finalist for the National Book Award. Her most recent works of nonfiction include the highly acclaimed Anne Frank: The Book, The Life, The Afterlife, and the New York Times bestseller Reading Like a Writer. The recipient of numerous grants and honors, including a Guggenheim and a Fulbright, a Director's Fellow at the Dorothy and Lewis B. Cullman Center for Scholars and Writers at the New York Public Library, Prose is a former president of PEN American Center, and a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. Her most recent book is Lovers at the Chameleon Club, Paris 1932. She lives in New York City.
Although I was excited to read this collection, I must say that by the end of Francine Prose’s “Introduction,” I was over it. As was the case with Prose’s Reading Like a Writer, her introduction here served as nothing more than a compilation of summaries: quotes from her favorite contributors holding paragraphs up like sentinels. She wrote like her heart wasn’t in it, like she penned her intro. for nothing more than a paycheck. Other essays in the collection were just as underwhelming - boring-ass water-is-wet think pieces. Ann Hood’s “Beginnings” is one of them. So is Elissa Schappell’s “Endings,” Christopher R. Beha’s “Do Something,” and Jim Krusoe’s “Story & Dream.” Then there were the essays that analyzed literature just to analyze literature, analyses that made no meaningful connection to anything larger than the words on the paper, that taught readers about neither life nor the art of creating literature: Mary Szybist’s “There Interposed a ____” and Anthony Doerr’s “The Sword of Damocles” are two such essays.
But, for real for real, it wasn’t all bad. Karen Russell did her muthafuckin thing with “Engineering Impossible Architectures” and Benjamin Percy wrote his ass off in “Get a Job.” Antonya Nelson’s “Short Story” provided a dope-ass syllabus for Intro. to Creative Writing classes and the voice employed by Steve Almond in “Funny is the New Deep” was on point.
Overall, tread lightly, my friends. Skip the essays that aren’t useful and study the ones that are.
3.5. Some of these are very good—specifically, those by Ann Hood, Steve Almond, Antonya Nelson, Karen Russell, and Elissa Schappell. But most of the others are boring, difficult to understand, or nonconstructive. Maggie Nelson’s, in particular—what? What is she saying? Lean against what? So take what you can from it! And discard the rest.
I gave this a three, mainly because there were only a couple of good essays. But the good ones are REALLY good, so do browse this, by all means... For me, the two best pieces were by Johnston and Almond...
Bret Anthony Johnston on having an agenda as a writer:
The writer seems to have chosen an event because it illustrates a point or mounts an argument. When a fiction writer has a message to deliver, a residue of smugness is often in the prose, a distressing sense of the story's being rushed, of the author's going through the motions, hurrying the characters toward whatever wisdom awaits on the last page. As a reader, I feel pandered to and closed out. Maybe even a little bullied. My involvement in the story, like the characters', becomes utterly passive. We are there to follow orders, to admire and applaud the author's supposed insight (27).
Fiction is an act of courage and humility, a protest against our mortality, and we, the authors, don't matter. What matters are our characters, those constructions of imagination that can transcend our biases and agendas, our egos and entitlements and flesh... trust that your craft, when braided with compassion, will produce stories that matter both to you and to readers you've never met (28-29).
Steve Almond on humor (especially good!):
"... sometime atrocity is the midwife of the comic...the comic impulse is what allows us to recognize our sins (personal, cultural, historical) and thereby make moral progress (36).
"The jokes that my characters require, in order to face the truth of themselves and their circumstances, -- those are the ones that stay." (38)
When the stink of gravity grows thick upon your keyboard, let humor be your aromatherapy... (38-39).
Something is funny, most of all, because it's true, and because the velocity of insight into this truth exceeds our normal standards. Something is funny because it's outside our expected boundary of decorum. Something is funny because it defies our expectations. Something is funny because it offers a temporary reprieve from the hardship of seeing the world as it actually is. Something is funny because it is able to suggest gently that even the worst of our circumstances and sins is subject to eventual mercy. There are different sorts of laughter, in other words, and they express varying degrees of joy, affirmation, surprise and relief (39).
Literary artists don't write funny to produce laughter -- though we're certainly thrilled when people laugh -- but to apprehend and endure the astonishing sorrow of the examined life (41).
Every essay in Tin House's 2nd collection of The Writer's Notebook is bound to provide the reader with at least a few refreshing insights on the craft of writing. What makes the collection so amazing is how passionate many of the contributors are towards their essays, driving them to unexpected and liberating arguments (Antonya Nelson's in particular which chronicles a semester's experimental method for teaching creative writing, with extremely helpful results), and original advice, and alternate viewpoints on writing's common issues, such as realism, style, and form. For aspiring writers (or accomplished writers looking for alternate methods), I'd highly recommend never picking this book up without a pen - it almost demands scoring each lesson with a mark of some kind.
I find most 'craft' talks and essays to be a bit dull, and this collection is no exception. There is much fawning over predictable authors like Flannery O'Connor, Nabokov, or Alice Munro. It's mostly focused on fiction with a couple token pieces for the poets and essayists. Not that there isn't anything to learn in most of these pieces, but in themselves they can be a little flat. Steve Almond's contribution, however, on the source and use of comedy, stands above the rest by managing to say something meaningful about the human condition in addition to providing insight on the role of humor in a text. Maggie Nelson's chapter does likewise, albeit with a different focus, but unsurprisingly, it isn't quite as funny.
Excellent essays by some of my favorite writers. A grad-school-in-review of sorts. Except without grad school, I don't think I could have absorbed half of what's laid out here.
This book is a treasure trove of information and tips for aspiring authors like myself. It isn't a dry preachy book on how to write; it's an honest, humble, and spirited look on the process of writing. Each chapter offers different perspectives on the actual process, demystifying literary techniques and uses specific examples to break down what a writer is doing (subconsciously or consciously) in telling a story. The writing process is a combination of intuition and logic and, as such, it is helpful to receive tips from experienced, published authors and understand how to bypass what is often referred to as writer's block. One of the greatest insights is that it's okay to completely fail on the first go--let your subjectivity take the reins, mess up, and edit later.
An overall excellent collection of essays on the craft of writing that can serve as a bit of inspiration if you're in a creative rut. While some of the essays may feel like a retread if you've read about writing before (I mean it's kind of hard to say something new about it anyway, there's so much writing about writing out there already), they may help to at least inspire you to keep writing or fix a problematic piece. I highly recommend the essays by Bret Anthony Johnston, Andrea Barrett, Antonya Nelson, and Jim Krusoe - these I found to be particularly interesting and insightful.
Excellent collection of essays on craft from a wide range of writers. I’ve already shared some of these with my students, and I think I may just use the entire text in future grad classes, because the authors gave me so much to think about in terms of my own writing.
I can't recommend this collection of writing craft essays highly enough. The authors are those who have taught at the Tin House Summer Writers Workshop in Portland, OR, which I've attended twice. I really enjoyed what Karen Russell said about Flannery O'Connor and the surreal as well as Bret Anthony Johnston's charge that fiction writers write 'not to explain but to discover.'
Especially great in this collection are essays by Bret Anthony Johnson, Karen Russell, Elissa Schappell, and the inimitable Maggie Nelson, whose essay "A Sort of Leaning Against," is required reading.
Bit of a mixed bag, unsurprisingly, but thought all of them had at least some bit of helpful advice. Particularly liked the chapters by Bender, Percy and Nelson.
This collection of writing lessons, mostly from the Tin House Conference, is wise and well done. As with any collection, I like some pieces better than others. Ones that especially resonated with me include Ben Percy’s “Get a Job: The Importance of Work in Prose and Poetry; Jim Krusoe’s “Story and Dream” and Elissa Schappell’s wonderful look at endings in fiction. Some of the essays are a bit too didactic for me, referencing works I have never read, but there is wisdom to be found in all of them.