Writerhead Wednesday: Featuring Lydia Netzer

Welcome to Writerhead Wednesday, a weekly feature in which a brilliant, charming, remarkable author talks about her/his writerhead…a precious opportunity for looky-loos around the world to sneak into the creative noggins of talented writers and (ever so gently) muck about.


Here’s what I want to say about Lydia Netzer‘s debut novel Shine Shine Shine: It’s special. It’s one of those soul-changing, DNA-altering, oh-my-god-I-see-the-world-differently-since-reading-this-book kind of books. Lydia and Shine Shine Shine came to my attention via Sarah Reed Callender, and I’m forever grateful. (Thank you, Sarah!)

You know that quote by Franz Kafka? The one that goes like this: “A book must be an ice-axe to break the seas frozen inside our soul.” Well, Shine Shine Shine is an ice-axe that broke the sea frozen inside my soul.

Crack! Crash! Smash! Damn the frozen f’ing sea!

You should read Shine Shine Shine. As soon as possible. But first, read about Lydia’s writerhead. It’s as cool as the book.

1. Describe your state of writerhead (the where, the when, the how, the what, the internal, the external).

Writerhead can happen anywhere: on my back porch, in my office, on someone’s mountain cabin’s kitchen island, as long as there is a computer there, and a rectangular screen where I can look at the words coming up. Place doesn’t matter much, but there are very specific rituals and routines that can be used to invoke writerhead, and draw the words out of the brain. Here are a few of mine:

A. Music

I like to put a song on endless, endless repeat until it melts away into nothing but a feeling. Often I endlessly repeat a song my iPod calls Luilak / Fiere Pinkster Bloem (http://www.amazon.com/Luilak-Fiere-Pinkster-Bloem/dp/B005EU16B8). I have no idea what language it’s in or what the words mean but I think it might be Bulgadavian and the song is probably about sheep or political oppression. The words sound like this:

Lilac, sometimes a brick,

Hatches up a lilac tit

Hatches up a lilac tit

And a brick, and a block, and a very bad block,

Is a head that wants to be softened!

Dogs have thumbs so lie like a dog

In a head that’s spun so often!

Okay, in the interest of accuracy, I just Googled Luilak and came up with this image (http://www.50plusser.nl/forum/userpix/50570_luilak_2012_tndt_copy_1.jpg) of Wilma Flintstone hovering over three kids in a bed, while Ringo Starr sweeps the floor and agitates a tiny man with no pants pooping into a case of Dr. Pepper and waving a white flag at Mrs. Garrett who is smoking a gigantic purple doobie. So you can see that I really do prefer a song with lyrics that are intensely relevant to my themes.

I also do well with Spicy McHaggis by The Dropkick Murphys, the Brahms violin concerto, Imogen Heap, and other obscure Bulgadavian folk music.

B. Clothing

Clothing can be crucial in drawing out writerhead—the wrong pants and you’re stumbling uphill, the right pants and you’re like a solar flare on the keyboard. I have these terrible brown cargo shorts with a very unattractive rip in the rear, a pilly black tank top and a chewed-on athletic hoodie: these are the best garments for engaging writerhead. Other cargo pants can be substituted but they must be a bilious green or noxious brown, other tank tops will suffice but they must be black, and as for replacing the hoodie, well I’m not sure I even want to speak those words aloud. If I whisper I can tell you that a replacement has been attempted, in the interest in not looking like a flipping lunatic in public, but the attempt was abandoned.

 C. Odors

When I pack for a writing retreat, I need certain smells: Crabtree & Evelyn “West Indian Lime,” Viktor & Rolf “Flowerbomb,” Thierry Mugler “Angel.” Also Vick’s Vapor Rub, grapefruit shampoo, and rosemary. When I was writing Shine Shine Shine, the smell of lavender evoked the character Emma for me, and bergamot helped me think about Sunny and Maxon’s burgeoning love affair. Some smells turn my brain off: stuff that’s too floral or bready or nice and virtuous like Ivory soap or lemons. Limes are for writing dark, interesting novels. Lemons are for washing dishes and being really cheerful. This is the difference between limes and lemons.

I think I may be exposing myself as a superstitious nutjob.

When I was 20, I wrote with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other, and I used my irresponsible whims to do the typing while my reckless disregard for health and virtue was popping the pill bottle. So this is better. Nutjob perhaps, but now that I have children and a pot rack I need to replace the martini glass with something that looks better in church. Like a ripped up hoodie that smells like eucalyptus.

2. What happens if someone/something interrupts writerhead? (a spouse, a lover, a barking dog, an electrical outage, a baby’s cry, a phone call, a leg cramp, a dried-up pen, a computer crash, etc.)

The children do interrupt. And it always makes me feel like a terrible person. I remember one night, I was sitting in my office in the dark, writing a particularly horrible scene where someone died or was killed or killed themselves or something. My daughter opened the door, and stood there framed in the light: two years old and sweet and innocent as the dawn. “Mommy,” she said. I looked at what I had been writing, and looked at her, and as she crawled into my lap, I wanted to turn myself in as an unfit mother, and have my child re-homed with someone who lives on a farm and writes about the antics of goats or about how kindness is really nice.

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/lostcheerio/3593128093/in/set-72157615890062020/)This is why I can’t write sex scenes with my children in the same geographical region. All the sex scenes in Shine Shine Shine (there are four—would you like page numbers?) were written at the aforementioned mountain cabin, 600 miles away from my children. At home, I would always just allow the curtains to sweetly close. It took a full 24 hours of absolute separation to get me into a space where I could even get to PG-13.

3. Using a simile or metaphor, compare your writerhead to something.

Writerhead is like beating through walls with a sledgehammer. It’s not some easy bliss on the other side, that you have to beat through walls to get to—it is the beating and it is the walls.

When something’s not working, that’s hitting at the wall and your mallet is accidentally rubber, or the wall is actually granite, and it just makes a dull, thumping sound, and doesn’t even ricochet, just thuds.

Writerhead is when the walls get big, dark cracks in them and then your mallet turns to steel and with a whooshing sound the walls break open and you’re smashing through, climbing through, finding another wall, crashing through that, and on. It’s paragraph after paragraph of going somewhere, changing the landscape, opening up new air pockets, consuming those and opening more. And when you’re done, it’s a complete mess (that’s what edits are for!) but you’re standing in a new place, a place you couldn’t see from where you started. When I started writing Shine Shine Shine, I did not know where it was going. I don’t even remember, from where I ended up, what I thought was on the other side of that first wall. That’s what writing books is for me: trying to see what’s on the other side, hammer in my hand, smashing for all I’m worth.

BIO: Bio: Lydia Netzer lives in Virginia with her two homeschooled children and her math-making husband. She plays in a rock band, pulls weeds, and is afraid of bears. Her first novel—Shine Shine Shine—will be published by St. Martin’s Press on July 17, 2012.

If you want to connect with Lydia—and I’m quite sure you will; how could you not?—become her friend on Facebook, Tweet her on Twitter (@lostcheerio), visit her website, or read the first 50 pages of Shine Shine Shine for free here.

 

Mojo Monday: The Next 38Write Workshop Is Open for Registration

It’s Mojo Monday, and as always, I’ve got a little something-something to lift your creative spirits, buoy you up, help you get your mojo on, and nudge (or better yet, catapult) you into writerhead.


Ready to write, folks?

Looking for a unique writing workshop?

Perfect timing…because the next edition of the 38Write writing adventure series—38Write  Structure—is now open for registration. (Click over to the CLASSES page for lots more information about this specific workshop and to sign up.)

WHAT IS 38WRITE?

38Write is a writing adventure workshop designed specifically for place-passionate, culturally curious writers that will get you out of your house—no matter where you live—and into your environs.

Last month, I launched the first 38Write online writing adventure with 38Write | Description, and yowza! It more than exceeded my hopes and expectations. Thirteen writers in 7 countries signed up, set off on their adventures, and wrote some intense, provocative prose.

THE UNIQUE ASPECTS OF 38WRITE

  • Each writing adventure is 38 hours long. It’s a manageable amount of time that fits into anyone’s busy schedule. (Good gracious, no, you will not be writing or adventuring for 38 hours straight. I’m ambitious for you, but not crazy. You will need approximately 2-4 hours to work during the 38-hour period…give or take an hour.)
  • Each writing adventure will focus on one particular aspect of craft or the writing life. You will not be writing an entire essay or short story (but you might accidentally do so). Some adventures will focus on a skill, like writing kick-butt descriptions; others might get you to look at what inspires you or how you move from idea to writing.
  • During each 38-hour period, you’ll be able to connect with me and 38Write writers around the world via a Twitter hashtag. (How cool is that?!)
  • You will get feedback from me. (For more info about me, click here.)
  • Terrific for folks writing fiction, essays, or memoir.
  • Beginners and experienced writers are welcome and encouraged to join.
  • It’s affordable. A single 38Write writing adventure costs only $38 (U.S.).

WHY DID I CREATE 38WRITE?

While living, writing, and teaching writing in Shanghai, I learned (and/or relearned) a number of things:

    1. Each of us has a heck of a lot to learn from folks in other countries (and not usually the things we think we need to learn).
    2. Story is an international conversation that can help us better understand one another.
    3. By helping writers from all over the world to improve their craft, I can play a wee role in facilitating this global conversation.
    4. Writing is recursive. You must practice. (And if I do say so myself, I’m pretty darn good at getting writers to practice.)

IS 38WRITE FOR YOU?

38Write adventures are designed for all place-passionate writers, including expats and repats, globetrotters, armchair travelers, nomads, cultural spelunkers, deeply rooted souls, mapmakers and mapbreakers, wanderers and wayfarers, voyagers, and all writers interested in exploring and writing about their environs.

So, yup, if you’re asking, 38Write is probably for you.

To learn more and sign up for 38Write | Structure, visit CLASSES.

_____

Images: FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Writerhead: The Greyhound Made Me Write

Usually on Wednesdays, this: Welcome to Writerhead Wednesday, a weekly feature in which a brilliant, charming, remarkable author talks about her/his writerhead…a precious opportunity for looky-loos around the world to sneak into the creative noggins of talented writers and (ever so gently) muck about.

But today, this…

Today continues Writerhead, an ongoing series in which I post about various things that send me into writerhead. No set days. Just whenever wondrous writerhead hits (see “ocular lavage”).


On Saturday, neighbors of mine brought their greyhound (Ginger) to our annual block party. Though I’d met and admired Ginger a number of times during her daily strolls past our house, I’d never before had the opportunity to study—really study—her amazing physique.

Yowza.

The length. The arcs. The blossom-y ears. The tail. The toes. The long, long nose. (yes, I know, I’m rhyming…)

But the moment I was catapulted into writerhead was when Ginger’s human said, “The skin on the Achilles part of her leg is so thin you can see light shining through it.”

Blast off!

In an instant, the block party disappeared. No more burgers. No more wildly annoying drunk neighbor who leans too close when he talks. No more wonderful shrieks by all the happy, hyped-up-on-ice-cream-and-cookies kiddos. No more watermelon or chips or dip.

Just me and the greyhound and the skin on the Achilles part of her leg through which you can see light. The structure of a greyhound. Off into writerhead.

_____

NOTE: The greyhound pictured above is NOT Ginger. Nor is the human pictured above Ginger’s human. It would be awesome if they were…then perhaps the entire block party would have sent me into writerhead. But alas, not this year.

Mojo Monday: Abigail Washburn Builds U.S.–China Relations With a Banjo

It’s Mojo Monday, and as always, I’ve got a little something-something to lift your creative spirits, buoy you up, help you get your mojo on, and nudge (or better yet, catapult) you into writerhead.


As a (reluctantly) repatriated expat in China (nearly 5 years in Shanghai), I think a good bit about U.S.–China relations. I took one look at Abigail Washburn singing in Chinese and playing her banjo, and I thought, “Wow, I sure hope Obama is using her in delicate negotiations.” (If, like me, you’re smitten after watching this amazing TED talk, you can check out a schedule of Washburn’s upcoming performances here.)

Watch. You’ll see what I mean.

 

Writerhead Wednesday: Featuring Nichole Bernier

Welcome to Writerhead Wednesday, a weekly feature in which a brilliant, charming, remarkable author talks about her/his writerhead…a precious opportunity for looky-loos around the world to sneak into the creative noggins of talented writers and (ever so gently) muck about.


Today I’m delighted to welcome Nichole Bernier to Writerhead. She’s the author of the new novel The Unfinished Work of Elizabeth D (you know, the one that’s getting all that wonderful buzz right now).

Having Nichole here is pretty special. I’ve “known” her virtually for years; we met on Twitter while I was still living in China. And I’ve been looking forward to sharing her book and her talent ever since learning that her novel was going to be published.

So please rise and give a big round of applause for Nichole. Then lean in close, listen up, and hear what she’s got to say about her writerhead. (And then, yep, go buy her book!)

1. Describe your state of writerhead (the where, the when, the how, the what, the internal, the external).

For me the writerly mindset is the need to take a brace of thoughts and translate them into words, give them the structure of words. It happens anywhere, usually when I’m watching other people, and am tremendously moved to be witnessing a moment—some isolated episode of human connection or more often, human passing-in-the-night. But it doesn’t become a thing until I put it into words. That’s the way thoughts and ideas become real to me. It’s trying to force steam back into water.

2. What happens if someone/something interrupts writerhead? (a spouse, a lover, a barking dog, an electrical outage, a baby’s cry, a phone call, a leg cramp, a dried-up pen, a computer crash, etc.)

When I began writing my novel I had three children, and had never written fiction before. So I expect to be interrupted. It’s fantastic when I’m in an environment where I can open things up for hours, but that’s not the norm. What’s critical then is the way I lay breadcrumbs to find my way back, whenever that will be. If I’m in the middle of writing, I’ll scribble a fragmented sentence with bits of emotion or action or adjectives or dialogue. If I’m at an appointment it might be a scribble on the backside of paper, or if it’s in the middle of the night, there’s a pad in the nightstand drawer. On the soccer sidelines I’m known for taking a lot of pictures with my cellphone; it’s because I’ve become really good at holding it up for mock-shots and texting myself notes.

3. Using a simile or metaphor, compare your writerhead to something.

There was once a tv show or movie—something slapstick—where the main character would find himself temporarily in the middle of frozen time, though he was still free to move about the cabin. Everyone and everything was stock-still while he tiptoed around doing whatever he liked, taking sodas out of people’s hands, knocking the baseball caps off their heads, etc. For me it feels like that.

BIO: Nichole Bernier is author of the novel The Unfinished Work of Elizabeth D, and has written for magazines including Elle, Self, Health, and Men’s Journal. A Contributing Editor for Conde Nast Traveler for 14 years, she was previously on staff as the magazine’s golf and ski editor, columnist, and television spokesperson. She received her master’s degree from the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism, and is one of the founders of the literary blog Beyond the Margins. Nichole lives west of Boston with her husband and five children. She can be found through her website and on Twitter (@nicholebernier).

 

Mojo Monday: Tips from Midge Raymond on How to Be an Everyday Writer

It’s Mojo Monday, and as always, I’ve got a little something-something to lift your creative spirits, buoy you up, help you get your mojo on, and nudge (or better yet, catapult) you into writerhead.


Give it up for my guest blogger today—the wildly talented Midge Raymond—who has recently published a terrific book that all you writers should be reading every night before bed: Everyday Writing: Tips and Prompts to Fit Your Regularly Scheduled Life. (And yup, if you’re scratching your head and thinking “Midge Raymond, Midge Raymond, I swear I’ve heard that name before,” you’re right! Midge was featured on Writerhead Wednesday nearly a year ago for her award-winning collection of short stories Forgetting English.)

How to be an Everyday Writer (even if you don’t have time to write every day)

As writers, we’re often told that we must write every single day. I’m the first to agree that having a daily writing practice is invaluable—but I’m also the first to admit that I’ve never had one. And I’m guessing that most writers—i.e., those of us with families, day jobs, and other responsibilities that make it hard to fit in our creative time—aren’t able to write every single day either.

But this doesn’t mean we can’t be accomplished, happy writers. We just need to be a little more creative about it.

This is why I wrote Everyday Writing: Tips and Prompts to Fit Your Regularly Scheduled Life.

My goal with this book is to offer tips on how to be an everyday writer even without every day, as well as to offer prompts to help you keep your projects moving forward when you’re short on time. Remember: Writing isn’t about sitting down somewhere and typing—it’s about gathering ideas, noticing details, and seeing stories in the world around you … in other words, it’s about thinking like a writer.

So here are a few Mojo Monday tips and prompts to get you started off toward a fruitful week of writing. (Note: It’s best to have a notebook accessible at all times.)

Tip: Take a good look around. All too often, I find myself using my idle time to check email on my phone or to text someone about something that’s not really very important. I’m guessing I’m not the only one. Instead of turning to a device, look upward and outward; check out what’s going on around you. The following prompt will give you an idea of how to train yourself to use this idle time in a more writerly way.

Prompt: The next time you’re waiting in line at the post office, or at the grocery store, or at the hardware store, take a look around. Choose two random people you see and imagine them as a couple. Imagine how they met, where they live, whether they have kids and how many—create an entirely fictional backstory for these two people. When you have a chance, write down all that you envisioned and use your observations to start a new story, to write a poem, or to inform a scene in your novel. Let this exercise take you wherever it wants to go.

Tip: Open your ears. Some of my most successful short stories have been inspired by little bits of dialogue I’ve overheard. Eavesdropping isn’t always a bad thing, and it’s even better when you don’t hear quite enough of a conversation; filling in the blanks with your own imagination is the best part. The next time you’re out and about, prick up your ears and see what you discover.

Prompt: In a café, in your cubicle at work, or waiting in the lobby at the doctor’s office, jot down bits of conversation you overhear. Don’t worry about accuracy or context; just write everything down as you hear it (the more random and open to interpretation, the better). Later, when you have time, go over the dialogue and create a poem, story, or scene based on a couple of these lines.

Tip: Just say no—to Facebook. I know I’m not the only writer on Facebook with a slight addiction. (It’s so much easier to hang out on Facebook than to write the eighteenth draft of the same difficult scene, isn’t it?) Yet I also know that this doesn’t do my writing any good, and every once in a while I ban myself from social media for a few days—usually with wonderful, creative results. Give it a try at least one day this week.

Prompt: Write about a day in your life without Facebook (you can write about a real-life, pre-Facebook day in your past, or create a fictional non-Facebook day in your future). As part of this exercise, consider how social media has changed your life in ways big or small, whether it’s changed how you interact with friends and family. Is there anything about your use of social media that you’d like to change? And if so, how might this affect your writing life?

I hope these help get your Monday off to a good, writerly start. Wishing you a great week of writing!

BIO: Midge Raymond is the author of Everyday Writing: Tips and Prompts to Fit Your Regularly Scheduled Life, as well as the short-story collection Forgetting English, which received the Spokane Prize for Short Fiction. Her stories have appeared in TriQuarterly, American Literary Review, Indiana Review, North American Review, Bellevue Literary Review, the Los Angeles Times magazine, and many other publications. Her work has received several Pushcart Prize nominations and received an Artist Trust/Washington State Arts Commission Fellowship. Midge taught communication writing at Boston University for six years, and she has taught creative writing at Boston’s Grub Street Writers and Seattle’s Richard Hugo House. She currently lives and writes in the Pacific Northwest.

 

 

Writerhead Wednesday: Featuring Dawn Tripp

Welcome to Writerhead Wednesday, a weekly feature in which a brilliant, charming, remarkable author talks about her/his writerhead…a precious opportunity for looky-loos around the world to sneak into the creative noggins of talented writers and (ever so gently) muck about.


Earlier this year, I saw on a Facebook post that author Dawn Tripp (Moon Tide, The Season of Open Water, and Game of Secrets, a Boston Globe bestseller) had slipped into writerhead while running on a beach. (Of course, Dawn didn’t use the term writerhead, but her description of what happened while running had writerhead stamped all over it.) In a blink, wild, writerhead-obsessed me jumped all over the opportunity, and pretty soon, Dawn had agreed to a Writerhead Wednesday interview.

The paperback edition of Dawn’s most recent novel, Game of Secrets, came out yesterday, June 5, so it’s a perfect day for Dawn to share her writerhead.

Ooh, readers, you’re going to love this…

So hush!

Listen up.

Bend your beautiful ears this way…

1. Describe your state of writerhead (the where, the when, the how, the what, the internal, the external).

Smack-dab in the state of writerhead, I wrote this note to a friend of mine:

I am either losing my mind or beginning to create a slightly breathtaking story, the scope of which leaves me rather dizzy, because I can’t quite believe (with my daylight mind, of course) that it is possible, that it could really all work, that I could execute it, and that it wouldn’t fail, disastrously or gloriously, and maybe this is simply the other side of crazy I am arriving at, and it is all rubbish, what I am chasing, but it hasn’t let me rest all spring, whatever it is, and still won’t.

To me, this message describes the essence of writing, at its best, and most necessary: a restless, exhilarating, at times terrifying, ride. The strongest work has come from this place. There is a certain authentic intensity—an almost feverish rush of words and images, accompanied by an equally intense piercing doubt—because while I can feel the story, glimmers of the story in my body, when I am in writerhead, I can’t always grasp the larger arc and logic those pieces belong to. For me, there is the sense of being moved by a force that is at once inside me, and at the same time, beyond me. It’s like being in love. It’s like having the flu. And over the course of my career, I have come to have faith in this particular state.

2. What happens if someone/something interrupts writerhead? (a spouse, a lover, a barking dog, an electrical outage, a baby’s cry, a phone call, a leg cramp, a dried-up pen, a computer crash, etc.)

Writerhead for me isn’t a moment—it’s not entirely temporal—so it doesn’t get interrupted in the same way. When a story really burns in me, it doesn’t matter if I am at my desk, running the dog, or driving to school to pick up my boys; it doesn’t matter if I am out for dinner, or in a conversation—it’s like a parallel skin layered over everything else. It might be silenced for a moment, or be turned to a lower volume—I might get wrenched out of a paragraph, or a line I am in the midst of it, that line might be lost, but I have a certain faith that if a line or even a paragraph gets scattered like that, it will return if it’s meant to. The line might be gone, but the state isn’t. And to me, what matters is that larger state of being on fire for a story. When a story has me that way, it moves like hot silver through my veins, and it is always falling through me, pushing up in me, that is the state I am in, and I can answer the phone or the doorbell, or not, I can respond to an email, or not, I can drive into school to pick up my boys, fix dinner, go to baseball, come home, take the dog for a walk, and at the end of those instances of ordinary life, that story will still be there waiting—for me to write into it and write it down. When I am in that place of free-fall through a story—which it can last for several weeks—the most significant change, I notice, is that I don’t really sleep. It keeps me up late after the rest of the house is in bed; it snaps me awake at 3 a.m.

3. Using a simile or metaphor, compare your writerhead to something.

Cliff-diving. Like liquid silver in the veins. That rush of speed and falling through free space. Love it.

BIO: Winner of the Massachusetts Book Award, Dawn Tripp’s fiction has earned praise from critics for her “thrilling” storytelling (People Magazine), her “haunting, ethereal” prose (Booklist), and her “marvelous characters” (Orlando Sentinel). She is the author of the novels, Moon Tide, The Season of Open Water, and Game of Secrets, a Boston Globe bestseller. Her essays have appeared on NPR and online at Psychology Today. She teaches workshops on structuring the arc of a novel out of fragments of fact and fiction. She graduated from Harvard College and lives in Massachusetts with her husband, sons, and 80-pound German shepherd.

Want to give Dawn a high-five, ask a burning question about Game of Secrets, or find out the name of her German shepherd? Lots of ways to do so. Check out her website; connect with her on Facebook; tip your hat on Twitter.

Mojo Monday: Diagram (the lit magazine)

It’s Mojo Monday, and as always, I’ve got a little something-something to lift your creative spirits, buoy you up, help you get your mojo on, and nudge (or better yet, catapult) you into writerhead.


I’m kinda in love with DIAGRAM lit magazine right now. (A high-five to Ned Stuckey-French for sharing it on Facebook a few weeks ago.)

I think a lot about structure—the structure of a beach, the structure of a squirrel’s nest, the structure of the Oriental Pearl Tower in Shanghai, China, the structure of my family, the structure of a particular lane off Anfu Road in Shanghai, the structure of a chair, etc.—and how the structure, or anti-structure, of a novel or essay can reflect the structure of a thing or place or concept.

Right now, I’m looking at a row of stones that lines an overgrown garden-y space outside my office window , and I’m thinking about how I could write an essay that reflects the shape, rhythm, and pattern of those stones. Flat, roundish/tall, small headstone-y type, roundish/short, flat/triangular, turtle-like, a mere bump, etc. And then, of course, how to work in the lopped-off trunk of a tree that stands guard behind them.

Anyway, DIAGRAM publishes pieces that explore structure in a concise, schematic way. It speaks to my obsession interest in place and how to express place on the page.

It’s cool. Check it out.

___

Image: David Castillo Dominici / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

38Write: And We’re Off! Here, There & Everywhere!

38Write—my new global writing initiative—is a monthly series of online writing adventure workshops for place-passionate, culturally curious writers around the world. Each writing adventure focuses on one particular aspect of craft or the writing life (for example, writing kick-butt descriptions), and during each 38-hour adventure, you’ll be connecting with me and 38Write writers around the world via a Twitter hashtag. It’s new. It’s different. It’s mad fun!


And so, 38Write | Description—the first in the monthly series—has launched.

13 writers in 7 countries:

China (Suzhou & Shanghai)

India

Australia

U.K.

France

Belgium

U.S.

At midnight-ish (U.S., Eastern Standard Time), I emailed the 38Write | Description missive. Writers have 38 hours (from noon on their Saturday, June 2) to complete the adventures and writing assignments.

We’re Tweeting the workshop at #38Write. Check out the conversation.

And if you’re interested in the next 38Write workshop, sign up for email updates. The announcement is coming soon!

38Write: Worldwide Writing Workshop Launches Tomorrow

38Write—my new global writing initiative—is a series of online writing adventure workshops for place-passionate, culturally curious writers around the world. Each writing adventure focuses on one particular aspect of craft or the writing life (for example, writing kick-butt descriptions), and during each 38-hour adventure, you’ll be connecting with me and 38Write writers around the world via a Twitter hashtag. It’s new. It’s different. It’s mad fun! (For more info, click here. To sign up, click here.)


38Write | Description launches tomorrow! Sign up today!

So far, 10 writers in 6 countries!

China

India

the United States

England

France

Australia

Click here to join in the fun and make your writing sing! La la la la!