Juice

Juice continues a somewhat popular trend found throughout our creative writing course and its materials: mildly confusing, subtly cryptic, and wholly meandering literature. I found myself constantly going back to re-read sections of the text to make sure I knew what was stated, that there was a definite connection to the rest of the text; and, while a lot of times it didn't make a whole lot of sense, it certainly knew how to show itself off. Even if someone were to read this book in its entirety, and misunderstand the context of every single page, I would find it hard to believe that they couldn't pick up on some of the awesome, wholly imaginative uses of imagery throughout (though I only have currently read ~half the book, so excuse me if it takes a 180-degree turn and does something unpredictable).

I suppose, if one were to be confused by the erratic nature of the text, they could just interpret the entire thing as a dream sequence of sorts and forgive the jumping narrative. In my opinion, at least from ongoing discussions with classmates, the poetic styling of this novella will be the main hindrance for readers. Something about poetry just seems to turn people off, and while this work is certainly written with prose at the structural center, its flow is very poetic-- throw a few line-breaks in, and you'd have some contemporary poetry to accompany our earlier poetry packets.

Oh, and the current affairs of juice afflicting our main characters are humorous, I suppose, but utterly nonsensical-- am I missing something, or is this just a weird fetish?

Story Writing

The fiction-writing packets have given me some interesting perspectives to consider while writing, though I found some of the readings to be a bit long-winded. Many things can be pulled from these words of advice and guidance, however, that apply to all forms of writing. I enjoyed reading Burroway's "Prose-Rhythm" section coming off of poetry, and much of his packet can also be related to the poetic form. In particular, the bit about "Significant Detail" stands out: without strong, character or plot-driving details, most pieces of writing become boring rather quickly.

Of course, there is a heavy emphasis on utilizing emotion via action and description rather than simply saying something plainly, which is poor form throughout. I found it important that Burroway took the time to emphasize that simplicity does not equal static writing, however; he shows that even simple words can be used to evoke the senses, such as "smoked fish" and a character exclaiming "Good day!"

I think that, overall, some great advice lies among the text here, but these packets also make "creative writing" seem awfully contrived at times. Then again, my immediate frame of reference for creative writing comes from Kurt Vonnegut. His famous eight points are far from accurate in the light of many, many famous story-weavers, but they've certainly given me as much to think about as anything in these packets in terms of actual creativity. I'll drop them below, should any classmates wish to read them and make unnecessary comparisons to their own work or others' writings:

1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things—reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a Sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them—in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To hell with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.

Longer Short Stories

When our initial fiction packet containing what were called "Short Stories" was freshly removed from my printer, I succumbed to a bit of laughter when I noticed how short they actually were. This week's discussion about three comparatively long stories, which I will call "normal-length" in acknowledgement of their eponymous categorization, are more along my lines of expectation.

There's a lot to admire about this form of writing, and how they influence these stories; the time given to develop characters and cause intrigue, if not emotional involvement with the reader, without proper introductions is fascinating, and the descriptive terminology used in the stories is widely necessary to uphold the enrapturing nature of a short story, yet still somehow entirely unique amongst one another. Perhaps my respect for short-form literature stems from this necessity: drawing a reader in and causing some sort of provocation, whether it be curiosity at the plot or admiration of the atmosphere or a connection to the characters, is not an easy thing to do, yet we see such variation here in such a limited scope that it's hard not to admire these works.

The first story is, I'd like to think, my favorite, though the ending admittedly confused me. The writer presents us with a rather mundane scenario of internship at what appears to be some sort of psychology/sociology hub, complete with terminology that would probably rise above the typical dialog of many readers, yet makes it work tremendously. We are presented with a duality of sorts, in which a so-called observation is flipped on its head halfway through the story. While we may realize what's going to happen pretty quickly through the story, thanks to the curt-yet-revelatory descriptive nature of the writing and in particular the environments, its the nameless characters who steal the show, leaving us reveling in a scenario neither one of them is certain about, but one that we know is ultimately debilitating for the participants and cruel for the instigators.

The precise use of scientific annotations really helps drive this one home; while most people would look at things like this and roll their eyes, in this story they provide insight to the mentality of the characters (which is, really, non-existent otherwise), and the entire setting can be envisioned as some artsy movie, in which we can watch the mental stagnation and degradation of these characters with verifiable emotions. It certainly ends on an ineffably odd note (unless I misunderstood something obscure in the midst of the story), but the context of the entire writing is nothing short of clever, enjoyable manipulation of the human psyche-- both in the story, and of the reader. 

Short Stories

When I think about my favorite way to consume a ton of reading material, I think short stories are the way to go. I always love to dive into a novel and become enraptured by the atmosphere and characters they present, but short stories allow someone to get the same level of mystique and intrigue on a smaller level. That said, our short story fiction packet left me in a bit of surprise: I was expecting what I would consider a short story, in the sense of Twain or Hemingway's* huge catalog of miniature stories, but I was left with stories that were nothing but literally short.

Nonetheless, I found myself enjoying the readings wholeheartedly. I think the greatest thing I've taken from this collection of stories is an appreciation for each writers' ability to encapsulate a moment, their given characters, and the general atmosphere without having the space to drone on endlessly about backstories or details or anything such as that. Many of these short stories are the equivalent of anecdotes or even well-written jokes; everything is explained at face, with no unnecessary (and perhaps even lacking some necessary) details, fleshed-out plots, or anything of the sort. These are not "excerpts" from a longer story, they are longer stories, honed down to their skin and bones with nothing but the impact left for the reader to revel in.

This "phenomenon" I've described is further made intriguing by the complete diversity in storytelling we have. For example, the first story, Survivors, is nothing short of a bleak, saddening glance into the mind of a person with his own predicament-- it's no different than a teenager dreaming into the future about their current fly-by-night girlfriend or boyfriend, but it's got the right tone to send a somber message to the reader. It's short, but it's emotionally profound, and while it doesn't pack the punch of a Wuthering Heights or even a Nick Adams story, it accomplishes quite a bit in just a few hundred words. Morning News touches on a similar subject (not the struggles of homosexuality, but the foreboding notion of death and its wake on the living left behind), with a more poignant twist at the end. As I mentioned, these are almost like jokes-- they may share key components, but the "punchline" is rather dynamic. Well, Sharon Krinskey's stories notwithstanding-- they're much more ambiguous and contemplative-and shorter- than most of the others. I don't really know if I like them, but I can appreciate them).

I think my utmost favorite story here is Wallet, by Allen Woodman.He presents a situation with just enough backstory to draw a reader in, perhaps even relate to the situation, and then he flies through this ironic mishap of an adventure with no real lesson left at the end to learn from. It's as if we're glancing into the window of some person's car, and instead of merely seeing their faces, we experience their emotions, what exactly they're laughing about. It's rife with coincidence, but the story is both humorous and touching, in a way that only an established character relationship can provide-- yet we don't truly have that here. I think that's why I enjoyed this one the most; a finely honed story that pulls its punches perfectly.

*To end on a related note, I'd like to post a short story allegedly from Hemingway that, to my knowledge, is the shortest "story" ever written: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." It encompasses my perspective above perfectly, I would say-- you're given nothing, honed even more than the short stories contained in our packet, and left with this six-letter phrase that's as emotionally evocative as a whole league of works in size much greater than itself.