Journal Entry 030506
We wrapped up the
fifth week of the second VeteransÕ Writing Workshop (CWS2) with a visit by
Warren Slesinger on Tuesday, 21 February, followed by workshop participants
reading their work on Thursday, 23 February. Warren began his talk by asking ÒWhy would someone write a
poem?Ó He mentioned Gregory OrrÕs
work often. Orr has written well
and often of his tumultuous personal battles following his brotherÕs
death. When they were children,
Orr accidentally shot and killed his brother. Warren quoted Orr as saying writing poetry is an attempt to
work the interplay of order and disorder.
In reworking events of the past through application of imagination
combined with craft, the power relationship between event-self is reversed with
self as poet mastering the disorder that almost overwhelmed but was
restabilized by taking charge of the imagination. We had a lively discussion of WordsworthÕs ideas about the
writerÕs inward eye, the place of tranquility, and FrostÕs idea of writing as a
Òstay against confusion.Ó Warren
went on to read from his own work before opening the floor to further
discussion. He spent a great deal of time on the road during his thirty years
in the publishing world. The
selections he read from his own work centered on family and his sense of
apartness and unity.
Having
this workshopÕs participants read Your Life as Story gave us a foundation for craft dialogue and gave an
initial thrust to participantsÕ learning curve. Participants work hard during the five-week workshop. Reading their lives as text is possibly
the hardest task of all.
Participants receive final critiques on their works in progress during
the fourth week, so final changes to their essays are always a surprise which
makes ThursdayÕs readings my favorite part of the workshop. It was an interesting coincidence that
Warren chose OrrÕs work to bring to the group since two workshop participants
chose to write about family in their essays.
Tony,
a twenty year Marine Corps veteran who is still on active duty, studied
journalism in college for three years before joining the Corps. When he contacted me about
participating in the workshop, he mentioned that he had already written an
autobiographical novel manuscript about two very important years in his childhood. He balked at writing memoir, but I
convinced him that addressing the facts of his life as they actually happened
would make him a better novelist.
This is something I was taught at Queens University of Charlotte while I
was a creative writing graduate student.
The way this idea was presented to me was that when writers deal point
blank with issues of the past by writing according to nonfiction standards of
truth, they are better equipped to prevent those same issues from acting out
subconsciously in their fiction.
This made sense to me, and it made sense to Tony who agreed to try
writing memoir.
Melissa, a Department
of Defense employee who works at Parris Island, also writes fiction. She decided to write about the moment
she first realized her mother was a cancer patient. Breaking through denial is always difficult, and trying to
capture that moment of clarity in memoir is just as difficult. Melissa found that not only was her
writing improved as a result of participating in the workshop, but so was her
understanding of her past. We
discussed emotional flooding during our first week, so she was mentally
prepared for the onrush when it came.
We both agreed though that nothing can adequately prepare a writer for
placing themselves back into a difficult time, except perhaps knowing your
reasons for putting yourself back there.
Melissa and I likened this to the HeroÕs Journey Ð we face the obstacles
and challenges of writing to share our experience, strength and hope with
others who have or will encounter the same. Charles Dickens once said something along these lines, which
I will attempt to paraphrase: we are, each of us, engaged in a grand experiment
to prove we can be the heroes of our own lives. MelissaÕs personal essay is a statement of proof given in
very real terms of everyday life, love and death.
Our third
participant, a marine first sergeant and combat veteran, also read on Thursday
from her account of the first days of the Iraq War. She was a member of a convoy launched into Iraq from Kuwait
just after HusseinÕs 48 hour warning time ran out. Her story recounts the first days of her journey into the
desert during the worst sandstorm in a hundred years and the convoyÕs near-miss
encounter with an enemy tank regiment.
Tony and MelissaÕs
final drafts appear in the student gallery.
Melissa surprised me
with a Thank You gift of two pens on our last day. Both pens carried epigrams. One read, ÒIt is the supreme art of the teacher to awaken
joy in creative expression and knowledgeÓ (Albert Einstein.) The other pen read, ÒI am not a
teacher, but an awakenerÓ (Robert Frost).
Moments of clarity, understanding the past, capturing that moment for a
reader Ð these were themes that ran the course of our five weeks together;
these are themes that run the course of the writing life, and it is certainly a
remarkable coincidence, one of lifeÕs great small things, that MelissaÕs gift
and WarrenÕs talk centered on the heroism of the everyday that writers attempt
to share with readers.
CWS 3 is scheduled to
begin 21 March and I look forward to continuing to share what I can of what
little I know about writing.