Unschool for Writers

I love this picture of a friend’s daughter reading my book—photo by Holly Flauto Salmon (check out her recently released book of poetry, Permission to Settle.) ~~~ It’s been a year now since I started a series of posts about my published books. At the time I started this, I thought I would share, too, about unpublished works that are—to my mind—thoroughly completed, but haven’t found a home. That may happen yet, in a form that makes sense and is useful.

Photo by Carol Highsmith's America on Unsplash Regular readers may recognize this post, updated from several years ago. ~~~ Stories are written as they come. And how they come is often not linear. John Irving claims to write his closing sentence first, and then to gestate the whole for months before he begins again... from the beginning. in those months, he is jotting notes, and creating pieces. Other writers might write the scene of climax and work their way backwards.

Background and Welcome: Welcome to The Unschool for Writers, if you are new here! On the first of each month (sometimes the second; in this case the third), I post a mix-up of monthly re-cap, often a prompt, a note-worthy piece from the archives (over 500 posts now), sometimes a few markets, some bit of craft to think about. Or, in the case of this month, what to do with our craft.

Photo by Dhruv Bhatt on Unsplash Alison’s note: do NOT share or re-stack this post in any way—thank you for keeping the privacy of our workshop— Note also that this is a re-working of Sandi Harrison’s PB post of April 4. A note from Sandi: Here’s the manuscript.

Photo by Jan Canty on Unsplash (A re-working of an ageing archived post!) Years ago I read about some research with children and fences. I frequently think about this—the fences—when it comes to writing. That is, choices about writing forms, poetry, and all sorts of life bits. I also think about this when people speak about “getting out of the box,” as if box-escaping is a prize. Now getting “outside the box” is seen as positive.

Photo by Galt Museum & Archives on Unsplash As you know, if you read The Unschool regularly, I’ve been studying creating visual art on my own, with friends, and taking continuing ed-level classes. And if you read last week’s post, you’ll also know I’m thinking about what it might mean to publish my own paper-and-ink books. ALSO! A NOTE: Somehow, the last two posts, other than my first-of-the-month, have not sent out beyond paid or workshop subscribers.

Photo by this life's illusions on Unsplash I’ve been reading more in the past year. The television’s off, and I’m reading for pleasure in ways I haven’t for decades. Almost every day ends in settling in “for a good read.” Lately though, in the mix I’m picking up, I’m stumbling over a certain lack of grounding in some stories. Small bits and pieces altogether, yes, but worthy of discussion. Where I’m finding this is in the newest works—which leaves me wondering.

For the month of May, I’ve posted twice. Both posts took longer than usual. I honestly don’t know if I’m writing slower than I have in the past, if my mind is not coming up with as many ideas, or if these repesent some part of what I’m working with. I’m still getting used to the shift from laptop to iPad.

A few years ago, I purchased an e-version of William Trevor’s complete short works. I do wish I owned it as a real book. Recently I went to Macleod’s here in Vancouver, on Pender Street, and found a weighty boxed set. What a treasure. As he stretched from a footstool to reach it for me and pass it down, one of the store-owners—I’m assuming—marvelled: ”I forgot we had this!” An e-book isn’t a real book. Except, maybe, for travel. But I needed a copy quickly for a reason I don’t recall.

I’m all ears….. Photo by Vysyakh Ajith on Unsplash Rachel Rose, of Desperate Writer, is on my mind these days, with her recent words about not posting until she’s ready. I’ve spent the past week working on another piece altogether, about making prose so memorable that if someone sets the story aside for some time, when they return it is with immediate remembrance and entrance. I will complete that. But it’s not ready.