Fin-de-WWW??

I don't believe there could've been a better final visiting author for WWW2007 than Esmeralds Santiago.
Spirited.
Happy.
Content with her place in life.
And loaded up with perhaps the most potent information for writers--at least for me.
She didn't see my writing, but her words about writing were highly applicable to my approach.
Two things, in particular:
1) Always go with your first instincts--I think I'd been waiting for someone to say this all along.
2) Not every reader is going to get it (chosen references), but the readers who do will get a deeper meaning--maybe I'm stretching things to support my penchant for dropping arcane references in my writing, but I do so more or less to deepen an understanding for the cultural elements I like to drop. If you get it, there's a gold star in it for ya!
Yeah, I know, I'm no memoirist--although the only thing I've had published in Brushing fell under the creative nonfiction category, go figger; normally I tend to helplessly exaggerate anything real into a fiction--so it's a weighty compliment to Esmeralda that her comments reached me, spoke to me, the way they did.
And as for memory feeding memory, what an irresistable turn-of-phrase. Truth brims in those words. And it's not just for memoir, anymore!
(And, if I remember correctly, didn't Esmeralda reference during the Valentine's Day Dinner the increasing importance of technology on the writing experience? I got distracted with Brad's camera--apologies to the camera-shy. If she did, though, COOOOOOOOL!!)

Adolf Eichmann Afterburn

I really didn't know what Bobbi Ann Mason would make of my "Adolf Eichmann Superstar." Even in the super-raw, unfinished-ness of the draft she saw, I knew it'd be radically different from what she normally reads and writes, so the looks I caught her making--not unpleasant looks, I'll say, just kind of grasping--didn't surprise me too greatly. Nazidom ain't pleasant.
And maybe the level of subject unpleasantness is what swerved Bobbie Ann from talking much about the story elements, which I hoped she'd focused on.
Still, I'm glad she drew my attention to the thin character developments, which I knew would come up, more or less. And the temporal issues, the time-confusion, I guess it does gun to confuse the reader. I've already begun de-complicating this, although I've done the rapid head-math, and it adds up.
And the title? A riff, a pun on Jesus Christ Superstar? I've got to keep it. There's already a fictional piece called "Strange Attractors," for one thing. For another, I'm a futurist, and I believe the current title a futurist pun. Alfred Hitchcock--no, not a writer, but a storyteller, a narrative artist nonetheless--said "a pun is the highest form of literature." I see this as a very futurist statement. Puns comprise literary futures. Seen YouTube lately, a pun-loaded site, among many others, where narrative structures are being rapidly re-written. Everything's up for grabs, it seems!
See, I even ran a pun on my title in the subject line!
Uh-oh--time to kill this potential rant.
Anyway, and nevertheless, I'm glad Bobbi Ann Mason critiqued my piece. I think she did me much more good in crucial areas than someone who's already familiar with my subject matter and techniques.

You Fake Adidas Wearin'

When I picked Colson up from Park Plaza Thursday before the reading, and he, Jimmy, and Connie May wedged into my clown-car--sorry for the tight fit, guys--Colson carried a large spiral sketchpad, the kind a caricaturist at Lake Eola uses. As usual, I missed the obvious question, "Hey, what's with the big sketchpad, Colson?" and instead drove the three to the reading in semi-silence. I suppose it was best I didn't ask, because it may have spoiled the surprise of Colson's visual aid. During a reading from some new, unpublished material, Colson flipped open the sketchpad, and on it, he had diagrammed the grammar of insults, the lynchpin something he called "the N verb," as in "wearin'" or "lookin'." I already respsected Colson for the cleverness and deft wordplay he employed in Apex Hides The Hurt, but his creation of "the N verb" sold me on his genius, and vaulted him way up my list of favorite authors. The "N verb" works likes this: you have your subject, such as "Fake Adidas" + "the N verb," in this instance "wearin'" + the object, which is always bitch-mothafucka-or-nigga; add them together, and you get, Fake Adidas wearin' bitch. Sometimes, as one of the characters in Colson's story does, you can attach the "nonsensical prepositional phrase" "with your monkey-ass." Hilarious. Genius. Most enjoyable reading I have been to since Tobias Wolff last year, or since Nikki Giovanni said white people had shark attacks coming to them (that's a paraphrase).

Why Must We Censor Life?

Two Tuesdays ago, Ms. Fowler related to our class just what she went through because of the (possible) complaints of people about the content of the stories belonging to the interns of the Winter with the Writers program. (As part of the WWW program, all of the stories are available to general public to read on the school’s website.) Because of the quote/unquote risqué material, readers are forced to click and read a window that pops up. It’s a warning to those that are easily offended. I feel like a 15-year-old kid logging on to his first porn site, rather than a 21-year-old college junior reading the best literary work that Rollins College, a respected institution in the southeast, can offer. I, and maybe some of the people who have come to love and respect the service that WWW provides free of charge, feel slightly childish.

Aren’t “mature situations” what most authors write about? These instances are what life is all about. Many consider Robert Frost to be an excellent poet; some may go as far as calling him one of the best America can offer. But do these same people know that “Traveling Through the Woods on a Snowy Evening” alludes to suicide, which is definitely a mature topic? Edgar Allan Poe’s poems are littered with death. “The Adventure of Huckleberry Finn” is a journey through racism in the 19th century; it is also widely considered the best American novel ever written. The list can continue ad infinitum, but I don’t want to click through any more pointless warnings when I want to read something.
-Daniel

I Didn't Forget I Swear

I finally have some downtime to make a quick post between classes, so...

I can't believe two authors have already come and gone. Has that much time really gone by? Don't answer that... I was talking to my aunt (a high school English teacher back home) about WWW, and she was surprised by the authors we get to work with. Going along the lines of what Brad said, these are people who have been published time and time again with their names out there internationally. It's a bit intimidating. What do you say to them? Will they like working with you? What if Connie May brings up your umm... interesting relationships to Russell Banks? Then what it comes down to is that they are people who enjoy just sitting back and having a few drinks with good (interesting) company. Maybe there's hope of one day being published and visiting Rollins as a visiting writer... You never know, right? I love working with you, guys, and hopefully the next two weeks will be as good as the first!

Oh right. This is Michelle by the way. LimitedEternity is my AIM screenname + some numbers in case you're wondering where it came from. Time to get a smoothie before class.

Do what now?

IMHO= In My Humble Opinion :)

For two weeks straight now, I have been "kindly asked to leave" 310 when they've closed at about 2 A.M. every Friday morning. I've left the restaraunt alongside highly acclaimed men, laughing and talking and comparing life stories despite 16 to however-old-Russel-Banks-is-minus-21 year age gaps.
It's not even the idea of the "brush with greatness" that truly makes these experiences a rush... it's the fact that, behind the black-and-white headshots in the books' back covers exist real men (and women, as we'll see in the next couple of weeks).
More will be posted after more sleep is attained.

Brief

Well, this is just to see if I can figure out how to post. Hopefully all goes according to some cyberspace plan. Anyway, the past two weeks have been amazing. I love attending the Master Classes and seeing how they turn out. After Russell Banks and his blah-blah seeking missions to Colson Whitehead and his total group interactions I cannot wait to find out what transpires with our final two authors. I’ve enjoyed this experience to say the least, everything from airport runs to meeting and greeting patrons at the receptions. I love the whirlwind effect of being an intern. . . sadly though this is between point A and point B so I’ve got to run. See you all tomorrow night.

-Allison R

PS—what does IMHO mean? (Sorry if it’s a stupid question)

Leave a Door Open for Death to Enter

After reading Russell Banks novels and short stories, I was extremely impressed by his ability to capture his audience. I was excited for his visit and enjoyed the evening at the Enzion, the master class, and his reading. However, I was disappointed because through all that time, I didn't yet have a chance to speak with him. So when the interns were invited to grab some refreshments after the reading, I jumped at the opportunity. Once again, Russell was surrounded by various local writers and English faculty while the interns sat at the end of the table, in their own little circle. But as the evening progressed, more and more of the writers and faculty members left, leaving three remaining interns the opportunity to finally speak with Russell. The funny thing is, nobody really speaks with Russell. He speaks to you. He's one of those people who you ask what's the weather like, and twenty minutes later, he still hasn't really answered the question but has taken you along a delightful, thoughtful path full of adventure. Despite these long speeches, he is incredibly interesting and intelligent. Without knowing it, you are drawn into his world and hang on his every word. I guess that's what helps make him such a good writer, is the ability to make people interested in something they might not have initially cared about. At one point in the evening, our brave leader, Connie May Fowler, asked Russell how he's able to make his endings so strong, almost like he's stabbing a knife into the book. He laughed, and once again, went down a long path concerning death. During the master class he had mentioned that "No other species has to learn what it is to be human--that's why we tell stories." However, while discussing his endings, he admitted that during the master class he had given us the Disney version of his philosophy. What he was really referring to was death. No other species knows they are going to die, which he believes, is the most basic human fact. We know we are going to die. Therefore, in order for a story to be meaningful, death has to be present, or at least have a door open where death could answer. Even if the story doesn't concern death, it's always a factor, because no story can possibly be meaningful unless the writer understands he/she is going to die. As Russell continued down his path, I began to scan the pieces I had recently written. Was death allowed to enter those? Did I even know that I was going to die? Sure, I know all life comes to an end. But have I accepted the fact? And, have I let it enter my stories? I was struggling with how to allow it in, especially those that don't even mention death. How is one supposed to let it enter without blatantly staying it? I understood what Russell was saying, but I didn't understand how to do it. To tell you the truth, I'm still confused. However, as I've been reading other stories and novels, I've been keeping my eyes open for death. Strangely enough, in all of the really powerful stories, at least a little shimmer of death is present. Hopefully the more I keep reading, the more I will realize how writers incorporate it into their stories, and maybe one day, I'll even be able to.

TV-Guided?

I'll use this forum here as a temporary e-confessional.
I'm really glad Colson Whitehead let it out that he watches a lot of tv.
I do, too. More than I'd like to admit.
I've always heard it that tv is an anti-writing element, and I won't argue with that--but, and I think Colson might agree, or at least relate on some level, to what I say when I say I like to "culture-jam" when I write a lot of the time, letting disparate words and images fall into my subconscious as I key along to the background noise of Modern Marvels (which I love) or the deranged cartoonery of the Adult Swim lineup (which I'm largely and remarkably indifferent to).
If not tv, sometimes I'll switch things up and hit mute and turn on the radio or some mp3s or something. Same ends, different approach.
I got a very different species of inspiration from Colson than I did from Russell Banks, from his early interests in sf--my neverending interest, as well--pop-cultural intrusions from '70s Saturday mornings (his Land of the Lost-drops were priceless), and an infectious degree of postmillennial wordplay.
As for afterwards at 310 . . . uh . . . dare I mention I believe I had one to many, and as a result, I've only spotted memories of the laughter of plate tectonics, the future of B-movies, and a strange word or two with Colson regarding subway propaganda tactics, I think.
And, once again, amazingly enough, getting home rather late and lit and racing like the Hale-Bopp comet, I wrote for a long while.
Once again, the lingering gift of Winter with the Writers 2007, the heightened desire to write.
Although I can't remember if I switched on the tv.