The Literary Hinterland Between Fiction and Nonfiction

Harrison Solow 2

Pushcart Prize winner, Harrison Solow’s powers of thought and prowess in writing are laudable to the degree that bringing her essay to you today is an honor and an adventure, both thrilling and expansive. The piece you are about to read was not digested immediately by me – only occasionally does the veil lift for me to glimpse Solow’s sensitivity toward liminality, but it is something that I am determined to catch hold of for myself, even bits of it, one illuminating rendition at a time. Now take your turns, as writers, to coax its significance into your worlds.  Harrison’s latest book, Felicity & Barbara Pym, about writing, reading and what it means to be truly educated (http://felicityandbarbarapym.wordpress.com) has just been released in the UK with stellar reviews and is available to those outside the UK from The Book Depository (http://tinyurl.com/fbpbd ) which offers free international shipping.  Liminality In a letter to a friend, not long ago, I wrote this

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2010 WNBA Award Winner

Masha Hamilton has been named this year's recipient of the Women's National Book Association WNBA Award, which is presented to "a living American woman who derives part or all of her income from books and allied arts, and who has done meritorious work in the world of books beyond the duties or responsibilities of her profession or occupation." Hamilton is a novelist and former foreign correspondent. Her fiction includes 31 Hours and The Camel Bookmobile. As a journalist, Masha worked for the Associated Press, reporting from the Middle East, and for the Los Angeles Times and NBC/Mutual Radio, reporting on the Soviet Union during its final years. In 2009, she launched the Afghan Women’s Writing Project "to foster creative and intellectual exchange between Afghan women writers and American women authors and teachers." WNBA president Mary Grey James praised "the depth of Masha’s commitment to the world of literacy and books beyond her own career. She is a sterling example of

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Fathers Tug at your Heart

Seems like I've neglected my blog far too long, but it has been all I could do to keep up with a hectic schedule the past couple weeks giving workshops from Boise, ID, to Santa Rosa, CA, and then traveling back east to WNBA’s national presidents’ meeting, not to mention my “day job.” I know, we’re all swamped, but let us not forget about dad – you still have time to give him the best gift ever (see below). Fathers, I haven’t forgotten you! It is your day on Sunday. I've posted a little poem for all the sons and daughters out there who, when thinking of their fathers, feel a tug at their heart. I know I do. The following poem, author unknown, is for you: When I think of you, I just Can’t restrain the tug at My heart that I can’t explain. When I think of you Winter or summer, sun- shine or rain, there’ll always Remain that tug at my Heart that I can’t explain, When I think of you.  Now that you’re feeling that dad is tugging at your heart for your,

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Poppy Day aka Memoiral Day

CA Poppy

I feel fortunate to have clear memories of what Memorial Day signifies. When I was a kid growing up in North Dakota, this was a day where everyone I knew actually did commemorate the fallen American soldiers, who had died for our country as far back as the Civil War. Flowers were placed on the graves and memorials of these brave men and women to honor the fact that they made the ultimate sacrifice. A huge amount of patriotism was displayed as flags waved in most every yard and place of business, our national anthem – The Star Spangled Banner – boomed from horn and drum across our great land, and the smoke from charred hot dogs (gotta love ‘em) blanketed picnic grounds the country over. Thousands and thousands of bright red, paper poppies were sold all over the United States in support of World War II Veterans. These crinkly poppies went for a 5¢ piece, and were worn with pride by all Americans. To us kids, they were like badges of honor. Perhaps this is another reason why the

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Fuzzy Line between Fact & Fiction: Part Two of Three

... Back to the blurred line between fiction and nonfiction. I enjoyed the comments I received from searchers for truth after posting the first part of this short series. The following are a few extracted comments that hit home:  I received a Goggle alert announcing my death The reality check has bounced I think humanity has for the most part lost the ability to confront the truth and instead seek escapism in any form Without truth, we’re crossing swaying bridges with no railings Buyer beware has grown into listener beware Tawdry “reality” that surrounds us today becomes the worst sort of lie (This is a three-part series; for context, read part one, click here.) First of all, I love literary fiction and read it voraciously – more than I read literary nonfiction, actually. I’m wondering if fiction is perhaps one of the most honest forms of writing after all. Fiction writers don’t pretend to tell the truth, but I believe their writing is based on seeking

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Fiction vs. Nonfiction Today, Part One

Is fiction the 21st Century’s nonfiction? From many points of reference, it is. We are inundated with the gyrations and hubris of movie stars, politicians, government, sports figures, singers, authors, You Tubers, bites & bits from social networkers, and staged stunts on “reality” shows, most of which/whom are anything but legitimate or authentic. This Stuff, lacking in veracity, is pitched to us as nonfiction, and it has moved so far over-the-top that it has become difficult to separate fiction from nonfiction, illusion from truth, and fabrication from fact. The media serves up the lies, air-brushed & siliconed lovelies, cover-ups, and pathetic excuses and insincere apologies for bad behavior, while a whorl of adoring fans and supporters suck up this fiction as truth. I wonder if these actions are because some of them don’t know any better, or is it that they just don’t give a flying fig?  We belly-up to bunk in one form or another on a daily basis, and, whether

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Write a TechniColor Memoir: Labyrinth Write Through #9

This time, while walking the memoir labyrinth, deliberately open your mind to the colors that appear when using your senses. Spend time thinking about how color affects each of your five senses, one at a time. And then expand your thoughts into combining, for example, taste with smell or sight with touch, which will give you the opportunity to add appealing sensory layers to your writing in imaginative ways. This exercise will show you that what you need to do to make a short, true tale come alive is well within your grasp. It’s yours for the taking, if you’ll simply write down what you have visualized. Mom, Dad, Uncle Joe, Grandmother Sophia – they are or were colorful people, true? When you think of them, you think of them in color, so now write about them in color. To make your story come alive, use your senses in the context of the color of their character and their actions. Colors trip sensory responses in all of us, and sensory responses are tied to every hue imaginable.

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Salacious Spring – Mother Nature’s Daughter

I know you’re budding out, pert and peppy in all your glory, Spring. I feel you beckon me with your flirtatious ways, flowing sap and saucy spirit, so that I can’t resist your charms, but that only means trouble is looming on the horizon. Our love affair is fraught with predictable problems, and I should know better than to trust you after all these years. With you, Spring, I get bees that sting, sunburn, in spite of the block, and broken fingernails from poking around in your fertile bed. But that’s not the half of it. You make me hot – my temperature rises with hope held high for planting. Were it not for you, I wouldn’t envision brilliant flowers and juicy tomatoes that taste like tomatoes making their grand entrance all around after teasing them with gentle love and holy water. But I know my dreams will be dashed by loving you. You make me love you, and then you invite your ill-mannered friends to our garden party and leave me broken hearted, empty. After each fruitful

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Playwrights Intensive Retreat: Vision & REVISION

Jane Wenger 4-2010

Jane Wenger is at it again - I wish I could go, even though I'm not a playwright. Everyone learns so much for Jane, a teacher with more than vision... and she's fun, too! If you can possibly go to Assisi to study with her, don't miss this opportunity. Vision and REVISION  Jayne Wenger, Instructor                                                                                                      ASSISI, ITALY  August 6 - August 19, 2010 Live and write in a 12th century town in the heart of Umbria with a community of artists from around the world. The workshop will focus on plays that are in process, with emphasis on development and analysis of the script.  Writers will hear a scene or monologue daily and will receive individual dramaturgy from the instructor. In-depth and practical, this is a unique opportunity to concentrate your creative energy.       Artists

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No. 8 Memoir Labyrinth, Write Through Series: The Pull of Descriptive Imagery

When you use descriptive imagery in writing memoir you add powerful appeal to your true story. The images I’m referring to are the mental pictures you have stored away in your memory banks of a person, place, or thing, whether they are remembered vividly or in a shadowy vision. Creatively describing the images of characters and events in a story is the means by which a writer can put into words unique and lasting impressions that readers will connect with. When you’re describing images, say in a story about your grandfather, stop and really think about how you are communicating your reflections of him at a certain time, in particular places, and during specific events. Moreover, when you take the time to go through an exercise in descriptive imagery, you’re allowing yourself to revel in depth about savored incidents. When you’re writing a memoir about your grandfather, ask yourself if you have made him, as well as your time with him, come alive through your depiction of the

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