April 1 Newsletter
Traveling-stories prompt; "authentic insight" poll
Joshua Tree Park, March 26, 2023
I’m currently in Joshua Tree Park. VERY cold in the mornings, and then the sun does its thing. This place is awash in texture; once you start to see, it’s almost overwhelming. I can easily imagine that for some it is. My mother who, when she walks into a large fabric store, is done-in by the sheer amount of colour; she’s been known to “beat a hasty retreat” from such a place. I find if I focus on one thing—some strange branch on the ground, filled with the tiniest holes—or one spiky tree—or the formation of one set of rocks, it relieves the overwhelm.
It does make me think of how we build a manuscript, layering in the texture of the thing. Or making conscious decision (or not conscious!) to keep it simpler. I just started reading Bharati Mukherjee’s Jasmine (picked up in a laundry room library at a campsite; I left behind John Irving’s In One Person), and Mukherjee’s vocabulary choices are rich with texture.
What brings texture to your work? Does it serve you to think of writing as textures? Layers? Drafts bringing together… Serious tone, and lighter.
There’s been such moisture in North America this year, it seems! Here, the flowers are yellow and orange, purple, deep oxblood-red. (Little black ones, too.) The greens are yellow and bright. I walk looking for snakes, a terror of mine. Trees, rocks… lovely. Snakes, not so much.
Writers are blessed in one particular way: we can do what we do anywhere in any amount of time. With or without tools. While driving, our minds can wander and we can work through story issues. Or we can use that time to “clean the slate”—which is equally important.
We don’t need to set up an easel, pull on dance shoes, tune an instrument. Travel and work is a good fit. Recently, in comments, Darlene shared her story of working through the plotting of a novel with the person sitting next to her on a plane. Love it!
I’m finding, through these road days, that suddenly a “chunk” of novel material comes to me. I scribble notes in my phone or notebook. And when next with my laptop, write a few pages. Later, more comes. I’m at that “new project” phase in my work now that the two novels are out the door After a busy fall of final polishing, along with early phases for two picturebooks—and by that, I mean jotting notes, finding words that rhyme for one of them. Struggling with the theme of the other, a tricky theme to translate for really young children: a little spiritual anarchy…
April PROMPT
For this month, it would be good to hear your travel stories and poems. Either post about traveling, and writing while traveling OR post a piece that you wrote WHILE traveling. (If you want to share where and the nature of the travel—RV, air, cruise-ship, bus, etc.) that would be good. I suspect different types of travel yield different writing experiences. (?) Max. 500 words as usual.
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WELCOME!
To all those who are new here. People sign up as free subscribers, and I’m not sure how much they are able to explore, how knowledgeable they are of Substack. Here’s something of a primer I put together:
or questions about the “workings” of all this.
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Thoughts on March Poll
March question: What form of writing do you think offers the most “authentic insight?”
The numbers came in at 40% for fiction and nonfiction each, and 20% for poetry.
What was interesting about last month’s poll was in the ‘comments’ section, though. So while poetry was at “20%” for responses, there were words about the “authentic insight” of the form, all of which leaves me thinking that all three forms have genuine claim to have most authentic insight.
They’re each with their own approach. Maybe “authentic insight” is informed by the goals of the writer. What are we wanting to reveal? to explore? is it our truths? or the characters’ truths? or the characters’ lack of? What does a poem have that a story does not?
I was intrigued by something I read recently in Manjula Martin’s anthology of writers-and-money essays: Scratch: Writers, Money, and the Art of Making a Living. She speaks of “day jobs” and the accumulated experience of these, and then she says, “As in memoir, there was no big epiphany…” (page 117) and goes on to speak to her point.
But this line about “no big epiphany” stood out for me. It this true? And if so, what does it mean—if anything—for “authentic insight?”
In writing my own memoir, I relied heavily on the daily journal I kept through the time of which I was writing. The journal held the nuances, the daily shifts. Often those shifts felt to be so incremental, to be almost meaningless, really. Yet, over time, they built into turning places, decisions.
Maybe “big epiphanies” are what takes place in the reader’s mind.
Stephen King says, “Description begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s.”
Epiphanies might be the same.
Is this different in fiction? Should it be? What observations can we make and take from life-for-art, and art-for-life?
April poll
I would love to hear from you. Please leave your writing/publishing questions in the comments or email me at alison@alisonacheson.com. It’s been too long since I was able to post a piece in response to a Good Question. Bring them on… But first:
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Re-cap of March posts
We set off with an accordion-themed potpourri and prompt thread. As always, don’t hesitate to revisit the prompt and post, anytime.
March poetry discussion thread looked at the third chapter in Finch’s book. Note that I won’t be posting the April thread until—probably—the third week in the month, once home from travel. If you are writing poetry, inspired by this book, do email to me to post in the poetry workshop. Email: alison@alisonacheson.com
This next post was titled “Writing on the Road” but really, it’s a collection of questions that editors ask when they’re interested in a manuscript, interested enough to be taking it to the acquisitions meeting of the publishing house. These are issues to think through even before you send out a ms., and I would suggest you write a synopsis even before you send out (2-3 pages).
The next two pieces felt to be connected, one on dithering, one on digression and distraction. Both resonated with you-s; these three Ds are all part of process!
Most recently, a piece on age and writing, particularly for “beginning” writers. Though from many of the comments, it does seem that in spite of writing for some time, many of us feel like perennial beginners. And that’s how it can be.
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Signing off here, still in the desert. I’m looking forward to your traveling stories; the “prompt thread” will be posted 15 minutes after this.
Peace—
Alison
I just wrote a long piece on travel, part of an even longer series, and I have to say that taking loads of pictures has turned out to be incredibly helpful. The trip was five years ago.
"Writers are blessed in one particular way: we can do what we do anywhere in any amount of time. With or without tools. While driving, our minds can wander and we can work through story issues. Or we can use that time to “clean the slate”—which is equally important." So true. I tend to use shopping trips to write articles in my head :-)