All Camping, No Reading.

I’m the dean of a youth camp in rural Minnesota for a week in June every summer, and I’m smackdab in the middle of our fast-paced week. Every year, I bring a book along, and laugh to myself when I see it sitting in my luggage amongst the shirts and shorts and bug spray and Birkenstocks. I bring a book because I’m used to bringing a book, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to actually pick it up at camp.

This hasn’t really mattered until now. The book I brought this year is a research book for the screenplay. Between this week, a family vacation next week, and the Twin Cities Improv Festival next weekend, June may officially be a wash when it comes to getting research done. So much for the research “an hour every day” idea. On the other hand, at least I’m self-aware of the issue I need to correct, so hopefully I can make that work to my advantage.

Back to camp. I have some sand-beach volleyball to attend to…

~nm

The Summer of Research Begins.

Last night I began research for my next screenplay. This is probably my most-researched project to date, or at least the project which has required the most research. I have a list of six books to read and annotate this summer, plus get my treatment and beat sheet all ready to go in time to begin writing it during the fall semester. I’m taking a screenwriting course, my first in the MFA program at the graduate level because of scheduling conflicts during past semesters, and am excited for the project. If all goes well, I should leave the program with three solid screenplays under my belt, plus the short story collection I’m smack-dab in the middle of writing.

The research is daunting and I anticipate it to be exhausting, but one thing it cannot be is slow. I have a finite amount of time to get it all ready in, and I’m sick of treating summer like a magical time during which all things are possible but barely a thing is finished. I believe a lot of writers, especially those who also go to school and/or teach, are susceptible to this unfortunate mindset: “O, how there is no time to write as school slogs on! I shall write in the summer and all the summer! For that is when the world shall see my proliferation of art!” Give me a break. If that works for you, if it works for you to stuff all of your creativity into a vacuum of three months, then my hat is off to you. But if it’s just a pipe dream, then wake up and start writing every day. I’m talking to myself as much as anyone, but considering how much I need to research and write this summer, it’s possible I’m talking to myself the most (thought I don’t mind if you listen in on the conversation).

So the research has begun. I believe before this, the most research I ever did was email my uncle Dan, an officer in the Iowa State Highway Patrol, about some law enforcement questions for a script I abandoned in my undergraduate days (the script hit a fork in the road - it reached a point where I could have gone in two completely different story directions, both of which I really like. When I wrote up to the apex, I couldn’t decide which idea I liked better, so it’s waiting for me on the hard drive, somewhere). My hope is to do at least an hour every day, minus vacations and out of town trips. I’ll keep you posted.

~nm

Technorati Tags: , ,

Bookworms has its premiere meeting.

It appears my weeks is filled with book clubs.

Last night was the first meeting of Bookworms, a book discussion spin-off group from the main youth groups I work with on a regular basis. Attendance was only two (eight youth in all took short story packets, so I knew it would be a small group, at any rate), but we had a lot of fun. We discussed Girl by Jamaica Kincaid, The Pool Witchby Clay McCleod Chapman, Boys and Girls by Alice Munro, and Small Countryby Nick Hornby. I chose to start with short stories because a packet of thirty pages is a lot less intimidating than a book, plus school is still in session (many of my missing youth were studying for finals).

The main rule for Bookworms is it’s okay to say you like something or don’t like something, but you have to back up why. That’s the rule, and it’s what we’re trying to help each other learn how to do. The stories they liked, we talked about why. When we read Girl out loud, we laughed together and talked about why it was funny. For The Pool Witch, we went through it picking out the great action verbs, and for Small Country, we talked about three-act structure and how plotting can work. The story they didn’t care for, Boys and Girls, revolved around the vivid telling of killing and skinning foxes on a fox farm. However, we were able to determine why the act was so revolting - Munro is a sensory writer, using specific imagery and appealing to as many senses as possible. The two young women in attendance thought it was cool to pick up on that. Ninety minutes went by before we knew it. They were attentive, I was willing to listen, and all three of us were excited.

My latest Scrawl, Boy, is a shortened version of the writing exercise we did last night - using Girl as inspiration, write a short story from a father to son entitled Boy. The girls in attendance did a wonderful job, both language and humor. Lucky me, they plan to spread the word that Bookworms is the place to be this summer. Next month, we discuss Coraline by Neil Gaiman. Yes, that makes two Gaiman books I chose to read for book clubs this month - trust me, that’s not a bad thing.

Speaking of book clubs, Cormac McCarthy’s latest, The Road, was put on Oprah’s Book Club list when it hit paperback last month. Apparently, he was on the show yesterday to plug it, so I’m hoping to find a streaming clip of his interview without having to register for the OBC website. Comment if you find one, and I’ll do the same.

You can hear Nick Hornby read Small Country on “This American Life” with Ira Glass (I wrote about his storytelling tips last week). The Hornby section is at the 32:00 minute mark in the streaming feed.

~nm

Technorati Tags: , , ,

Choosing a Book Club Selection

I attended a book club meeting last night filled with old friends, Caribou coffee, and discussion of Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card. During the school year, I’m either in class or teaching class, so it’s rare I’m able to join the monthly Monday evening discussion. In fact, this was only my second foray into the Ron Book Team (I’m not sure how they came up with the name and I haven’t asked). I made the January meeting over winter break to discuss The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis and now this second meeting. Due to my schedule, the group decided to let me choose the book for the July meeting.

I was torn. How does one choose the one book they can suggest (and have somewhat of a guarantee) people should read? I’ve been introduced to great novels in my MFA program, I have my own favorite writers, and then there’s the thought of discussing a collection of short stories. I whittled my choices down to Tishomingo Blues by Elmore Leonard (one of his best and most accessible), The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera (a writer I was introduced to in my MFA), and American Gods by Neil Gaiman (that would make two Hugo winners in a row, following up Ender’s Game).

Eventually I settled on American Gods. It’s no secret I’m a big ol’ Gaiman fan, and I’m always up for getting others into his writing. I’ve tread through this book’s waters a few times, so it’s nothing new. However, I haven’t read it since entering my MFA in 2005, and I’m curious to see if two years of graduate school changes my perception of the novel. My hope is I end up enjoying it even more, though I see two possible negative scenarios which could emerge, too. Either I could dislike it because of my new perspective on writing, or I won’t notice any difference, which means two years in an MFA program hasn’t been all that helpful. I’m really hoping for the first of those three outcomes.

In the meantime, I begin my own book club tonight. Details to come tomorrow.

~nm

Technorati Tags: ,

Close
E-mail It