Five creative writing habits you should develop now
Writing is hard. It takes a while to wean ourselves off that Hollywood-coated lie of pumping out the next New York times bestseller within an afternoon at an indie coffee shop. Instead, it is a slow process of grinding away, regrets, networking with publishers, reading, regret, deciding if the Oxford comma is appropriate, and regrets about what you could have done to become a better writer.
Fortunately, one habit that writers have is generous writing advice for budding authors. For this month’s “Writer’s Unblocking ” our past and upcoming Draft readers were happy to rustle up a list of writing habits they wish they adopted sooner.
Karen Mulhallen
“I have been writing poetry since my early teens and have no pattern for working. Many writers I know work at a specific time, some need the anonymity of a café table, others work only in their underwear in the middle of the night, others work at dawn and take no food or drink before they have written. So many different ways of accessing the imagination. I have gradually learned that I have no set place or time, as I write chiefly in my mind. At random I make a few notes by hand on scraps of paper, Gradually the scraps get made into files, put into folders, some abandoned others taken up as I begin to assemble the structure of a work. A computer is the very last stage for me of composition. This is true for me whether it is poetry or prose. It has taken me years to acknowledge that the only way I can work is in this very random way. I often wish I were more regular in my methods but after so long I must simply accept that writing goes on for me all the time and eventually finds its way to the surface somehow.”
Karen Mulhallen has published more than twenty books and numerous articles on the arts. Her latest book of poems is Seasons in An Unknown Key ( Tightrope Books, 2017) and her most recent essay is “ My Life in Clothes & Books, a Memoir” ( numerocinqmagazine.com, December 2016).
Terri Favro
So many of them! I narrowed it to five (prioritized from most important to least):
- I wish I had realized that serious writing can also be funny. I shouldn’t have worked so hard to beat the humour out of my stories since that seems to be my natural voice.
- I wish I had realized that inspiration is overrated. Sitting down to write while uninspired usually results in better work.
- I wish I had fought back harder against imposter syndrome. Just because you spend your days writing about banking and insurance, it doesn’t mean you can’t be a “real” writer.
- I wish I had made a habit of thoroughly revising and proofreading stories before I submitted them, rather than doing it afterward in a fit of “l’esprit d’escalier.”
- I wish that I had slept more and drunk less. I might have written a bestseller by now.
Growing up in the Niagara region during the cold war, Terri Favro was told, “if they drop the bomb, we’ll be the first to go.” Her experiences inspired her new novel Sputnik’s Children, published by ECW. Terri is also a CBC Literary Prize finalist and co-creator with Ron Edding of the Bella comic book series. Her work has appeared in the Humber Literary Review, Geist, Prism. Room and the anthology Clockwork Canada: Steampunk Fiction. A new novel, Once Upon The Time In West Toronto, is upcoming from Inanna. Terri lives in Toronto and blogs at terrifavro.ca
Ann Ireland
I downloaded FREEDOM app which turns off my internet for a given amount of time. I should have the discipline NOT to be distracted while working, but I am a person of weak character and having the internet turned off mechanically helps. I tend to turn it off for three hours at a time.
Then I feel excited seeing that there is only, say, 45 minutes to go before I can check my email. So I knuckle down to work and lo and behold, FREEDOM snaps off, I’ve worked in a focused way, and now I can fritter away my time without guilt.
Ann Ireland is a novelist and Academic Coordinator of Ryerson University’s Chang School of Continuing Education, Writing Workshops program. Her work has won the Bantam/Seal First Novel Award, University Of British Columbia’s ‘Outstanding Young Alumnus Award’ , and has been nominated for the Governor General’s Award; The Rogers/Writers Trust Fiction Award; the Trillium Award; the WH Smith/Books in Canada First Novel Award and Barnes and Noble’s ‘Discover These Great New Writers’ award. In addition to fiction-writing, Ann writes feature articles for Canadian Art magazine, is a Contributing Editor to Numero Cinq magazine, and is past president of PEN Canada.
Deniz Başar
Quitting when I felt like not continuing. It is told to anyone who has started writing that writing is about crafting language and it takes a lot of time to learn and master the craft. It is told that the romantic genius who is driven to insanity with goddesses of muse is just a myth, and no one writes a novel in one round. Even though I fully agree that pure inspiration is nothing more than a myth and writing is definitely at least %90 craft – there is something that happens sometimes and whatever that thing is (which can be called inspiration or muse or something else), it is what makes the work a living creature with its own destiny in reader’s minds.
Some texts are stillborn. It is important to accept it and leave it. Some texts die in the making, and some texts just happen to become something in one afternoon like a miracle child.
There have been years in my life in which I never wrote down even a single word in any creative sense. It wasn’t writer’s block – it was loss of meaning that stopped me. After writing intensely for many years and dealing with a variety of literary cultures I can say one thing about my own writing: I can’t write (creatively) when what I am doing stops making sense to me. I am writing primarily to communicate things to an imaginary audience, or probably to an ideal reader. As a meaning-driven writer, when I lose that living spirit in the text (the meaning, which sparks the inspiration through the desire to communicate); I stop. I stop because there is nothing more I can tell to the ideal reader who has committed their time and mental energy to me.
So this is the habit I wish I had all along: to stop each and every time when I realize I don’t have anything to say to the world.
Deniz Basar is a doctoral student at the University of Toronto’s Centre for Drama, Theatre, and Performance Studies. She has a Master’s Degree in Modern Turkish History from Bogazici University with her graduation thesis named “Performative Publicness: Alternative Theater in Turkey After 2000s”, and she had her Bachelor’s Degree in Mimar Sinan Fine Arts University in Urban Planning. Her award-winning play “The Itch”, in which she worked with the potentials of allegory to make a counter-narrative of the current political situation in Turkey, was published in Turkish in 2015. In February 2016, her play “In The Destructible Flow Of A Monolithic, Vast Moment” was chosen for the Derbent project, an independent initiative of Iranian-Turkish Theatre groups.
Terry Trowbridge
If my writing habits reveal anything about me, they reveal that I am a modern Luddite.
Most of my work gets done as though personal computers are invented but the internet is only an afterthought. Hiking through wooded areas is important. As well, I physically go to libraries, I scribble on paper using a pen, I make notes in the margins of paper books; and even if I research online, I print the essays, staple them, and scatter them over my bedroom and living room. Trapped in a time warp from living in Farmville circa 1995, my writing habits started so soon that archaeologists use them to date pottery sherds.
Nonetheless, I am a late adopter even of print media. Since beginning my life as a legal scholar, my family graciously buys me a paper subscription to the Globe and Mail, which arrives every Saturday morning. Lately, I’ve actually cut articles out of the paper and made notes on them. These include imagined replies to the journalists, references to academic sources, inferred character traits, yadda etc. The articles swish around my living room and eventually settle in a cardboard box. Routinely, the cardboard box is shaken out and the articles get sorted.
I almost never write about the actual news events, but I do write about law, and that means following the news. Every legal essay needs to be revised because of updates before the second draft is even complete. As for poems, it’s the stories that repeat that remind me of important themes. Each week, articles that develop a story add more strata to my poetry’s relevance. Over time, layers of clipped context measure a poem’s value against the layers of poetry editors’ rejection letters.
Terry Trowbridge is a PhD student in Socio-Leqal Studies at York University, Toronto. His Poems have appeared in a few academic places including The Canadian Journal of Family and Youth, Canadian Woman Studies, Relational Child and Youth Care Practice, American Mathematical Monthly, The Journal of Humanistic Mathematics, The Mathematical Intelligencer, Law and Humanities, and in slightly less academic places like Briarpatch, Untethered, (paranthetical), subTerrain, Carousel, The Great Lakes Review, Whether Magazine, and some chapbooks from Grey Borders Books.
Be sure to meet Terri & Ann at the upcoming Draft Series 12.5 next Sunday, April 23 at the Flying Pony Cafe, at 3pm.
Finding Brockton’s Writers, Audience, & Volunteers
Too much of a good thing can be problematic and as the de-facto centre of the literary community in Canada, Toronto is inundated with literary events, readings, book launches every month. Any Toronto literary event will always have a massive potential audience if you can attract them from the cold weather and away from the indie book launch and two reading series happening in the same evening, often in the same neighbourhood.
For any reading series to survive and even thrive beyond a couple years is a gutsy organizer and a uniqueness to stand out from the crowd.
The Brockton Writers Series has been lucky to have both. Commonly known as the only reading series to have an educational bent in the form of a writerly topic guest talk, the Brockton has achieved 7 years of reading under its belt and is still going strong. We sat down with Farzana Doctor, founder, and the host of BWS to find out how she accomplished this.
Why did you start the Brockton Writers Series and what keeps you going?
I started BWS because I was both new to my neighbourhood, and to being an author and I needed more community. I talked to Melanie Janisse (who is a poet, at that time owned Zoots Cafe) and she offered her space and her help. It was going to be a one-time event, but then, we just kept going!
How did you build up up the Brockton Writers Series to what it is now?
It was a slow process. At first, we had tiny audiences. But word got out, and later we successfully applied for OAC funding and brought in more volunteers. I think a series can only grow when it’s able to pay its writers the going rate. A sustained, creative volunteer base also allows a series to grow.
How have the Brockton volunteers shaped the Brockton Writers Series?
I think each volunteer brings audience members and new writers to the series. They also bring fresh ideas about structure, policies, advertising. So for example, past volunteer Sharanpal Ruprai wrote our first grant. Sheila Toller began taking photographs for us. Dan Perry reinvigorated our blog. Sarah Henstra improved the way we incorporate guest speakers. Nancy Kay Clark has just started a newsletter. These are just a few of many examples.
Was there ever a time when you wanted to end the Brockton Writers Series? Why didn’t you?
Yes, there was a time a couple of years ago, when we didn’t have enough volunteers and I felt overwhelmed. But then we shifted from a monthly series to every other month, and found more volunteers.
Where did you get the idea for a guest talk with the readings and how did you implement it?
I think it was Nora Gold who suggested that it would be helpful to have a writers’ networking time before the readings to help writers feel less isolated. May Lui became its first facilitator, and sometimes we had invited guests and sometimes informal chat during this time. Our attendance was best when we had a speaker, so we’ve stuck with that.
What is the one factor that you believe allows a reading series to prosper?
Funding! And volunteers. Both equally important.
What was your most memorable moment at the Brockton Writers Series?
There have been so many. I think what I like best is when the four featured writers are diverse (in terms of genre, style, age, sexual orientation, ability, gender, race etc) and they manage to connect with each other and collectively with the audience during the Q&A. It feels like magic.
Why do you believe reading series are necessary for the literary community?
We need spaces to highlight writers’ work. We especially need spaces that are intentionally inclusive (ie, no more all white/straight/male line-ups!). These kinds of spaces raise artists’ profiles and pay them for their time.
What is the future of the Brockton Writers Series?
We’ll see! But we are going strong with our fabulous volunteers. We’re booked a year in advance. Pray we keep our funding!
Finding (Common) ground at a (Reading Series)
Running a reading series has always been audacious. Few can say their love of writers is worth the hard reality of packing a bar with an audience and settling up a fat bill at the end of the night.
Miraculously almost every night the bars and community spaces in Toronto are packed with every varied definition of “reading series” from weekly poetry readings to a platform for first drafts.
They’re run by people like Daniel Renton, current host of the Common Reading Series, who answered our questions on how he makes the Common thrive.
Why did you start the Common Reading Series and what keeps you going?
I didn’t actually start it, our founder, Jessica Moore, did. I inherited the series and hope it continues indefinitely with or without myself. The number of interested writers alone keeps it going, if I had much trouble finding readers–and I mean excellent readers–I might see the series as superfluous but that has never been the case. I’ve only ever had one or two repeat guests since I began hosting. Our wonderful audiences are also essential, as well as our very cool venue, the Belljar Café.
How long have you been organizing/hosting the Common Reading Series?
Since 2015. I began guest hosting in 2013 and co-hosted the 2014 year. By then I was the logical choice to take over when Jessica moved to Montreal, but she’s still an important part of our collective, especially for special events.
How do you fund the Common Reading Series?
I’m awful at this and we are a small group, so the series has no external funding yet. Occasionally, the Quebec Writers’ Federation has paid for writers travelling from the P of Q. The QWF is very generous at specific times of the year. Mostly, we pass a Pay-What-You-Can jug at the readings and divide what comes in equally among the readers. Writers also get one free beer. We’re classy like that. Fingers crossed for grant money in 2017; I’d love to be able to offer more to our readers and build a more reliable online presence.
Why do you believe reading series are necessary for the literary community?
Although I’m sure the literary community would survive without us, I don’t care to speculate on what disfigured and depraved form that community would take without us. Was there even such a thing as CanLit before Common Readings? This would make a good essay topic for the end of term.
Who was your most memorable reader?
There have been so many but it was amazing to hear Karen Solie read new work early last year. Karen somewhat of a national treasure in Canadian poetry. She’s had a good deal of success here and is rapidly gaining attention abroad. This means that she’s used to very professional gigs that probably pay well. In sum: we need her a lot more than she needs us. I can’t speak for her or anyone else, but I suspect that writers of this high a calibre enjoy reading at the Common because of the relaxed atmosphere and the closer connection to the audience. It’s a bit like when a stadium rock star does a surprise gig at a coffeehouse. It’s also a great way to try out new material and connect with new artists. Liz Howard, Damian Rogers, and Soraya Peerbaye stand out as recent highlights.
What makes the Common Reading Series unique?
Our unique agenda has been to fit somewhere between a series like Pivot and one like Emerging Writers (now reinvented as Slackline) to offer a bit of both worlds. In that spirit, we strive to match emerging writers with more established ones in order to create dialogue within the literary community that otherwise might not exist. Ideas flow both ways, new writers get first- hand access to those who know the literary scene well and successful writers get to hear fresh voices and get to know emerging trends. This mandate also involves striving to diversify the literary community on all levels, which involves but is not limited to including writers of colour, various gender orientations, writers with disabilities, and writers from various regions and cultures as much as possible. But the issue isn’t just about inclusion, it’s about paying attention to what makes quality writing work for each new reader.
What is the future of Common Reading Series?
We’ve recently extended the series to include many special events including book launches, translation nights, satellite events across Canada, and transnational readings which include guest authors from the United States. It is my hope that the series can continue to grow, to survive, and maintain its level of quality as well.
Daniel Kincade Renton has been published in Prism international, Hazlitt, CV2, The Fiddlehead, The Malahat Review, and The Fish Quill Poetry Boat 2010-2013 anthology. His poem “Sundowning” was shortlisted for the Basil Bunting award in the UK. Daniel hosts The Common Reading Series in Toronto, while completing a Ph.D on Jacques Derrida, Poetics, and Hypercritical Faith at York University. Milk Teeth, his debut chapbook, was published by Frog Hollow Press in late 2015. You can find him on Facebook and Instagram.