When Nothing Is Lost, Novel Writing and Henry James

If you’re looking to enhance your storytelling, consider this advice from novel writer and essayist Henry James: Be a writer on whom nothing is lost.

James’s style in Washington Square (1880) reveals characters and story more by telling about them than showing them in scene and dialogue. Yet, the author clearly knows the people, setting and era, and knows how to present them in a way that has broader thematic appeal.

In the craft essay "The Art of Fiction," James advises, "Write from experience, and experience only …” He then adds, "Try to be one of the people on whom nothing is lost!" However, there are two important caveats: It’s better to write from experience than with it (think fiction versus reportage), and if a writer is to be someone on whom nothing is lost, he or she must have first closely observed the world in order to gain that experience, and must have analyzed with some accuracy the experience gained.

The triad of experience, observation and analysis is similar to Bob Dylan’s description of the creative process as involving observation, imagination and experience. If we merge Dylan’s insights with James’s, we have the following:

• Mine your past experiences, and look for new encounters.
• Don’t just see what you’re looking at; observe it.
• Analyze what you observe, and consider how it applies to the world at large.
• Write from your experience not with it by letting your imagination create the fiction. Washington Square is based on the true story of a jilted heiress whom James heard about through a friend.

For more on Henry James and his work, visit PBS. Also see Henry James’s "The Art of Fiction" at Washington State University.

What story are you writing that could benefit from the wealth of your experience, observations, analysis and imagination?

Happy writing!

Ridgefield Writers Conference a Success, Thanks to All

Ridgefield's historic fountain

Thanks to great coordinators, a wonderful workshop faculty and keynote speaker, industry-leading panelists and dedicated attendees, the inaugural Ridgefield Writers Conference on September 28 in historic Ridgefield, Connecticut, was a resounding success, with plans under consideration for a 2014 conference.

The Ridgefield Writers Conference, based on the Master of Fine Arts workshop format, surpassed its attendee goal, with participants coming from as far as North Carolina and northern New England. Due to the positive response to the event, a fiction and creative nonfiction workshop was added, as well as two literary agents to the morning and afternoon media and publishing panels.

The conference was kicked off by keynote speaker and award-winning author Dr. Michael White, founder and director of the low-residency MFA program in creative writing at Fairfield University. The workshops featured fiction with acclaimed author Chris Belden, winner of Fairfield University’s 2013 book award, nonfiction with author and novelist Pete Nelson, whose novel I Thought You Were Dead has been optioned for film, creative nonfiction with award-winning novelist Rachel Basch, young adult fiction with multi-published author Steve Otfinoski and poetry with poetry professor and former Crazyhorse editor-in-chief Carol Ann Davis.

The media and publishing panels featured editors from The Newtowner, Alimentum and Connecticut Muse. Electronic and print publishers included BookTV Girl, Defying Gravity and Globe Pequot Press, and agents included Allen O’Shea, L. Perkins, Rita Rosenkranz and Talcott Notch.

he conference concluded with a wine and cheese reception sponsored by the Ridgefield Library for An Evening With the Authors, featuring Linda Merlino, Chris Belden, Nalini Jones and Pete Nelson. Books on the Common provided a venue for faculty-penned works on-site, and the Chamber of Commerce provided information on local venues.

For more information on the Ridgefield Writers Conference, created by Word for Words, LLC, with Ridgefield-based author Chris Belden and award-winning writer, editor and instructor Adele Annesi, please contact Adele Annesi at Word for Words, LLC, a.annesi@sbcglobal.net.

Mining Family History for Fiction and Creative Nonfiction

Mine your history for stories

Everyone has family of one sort or another, and most people can mine their family history for stories. But developing a story for fiction is different than you may think.

Going through personal or family history for story ideas doesn't have to mean an arduous search of archives. To select a unique idea worth developing, ask yourself these questions:

• What person in my family (including me) do I find most interesting, and why?
• What turning point occurred in this person's life that forever changed it?
• What pivotal incident led to the event — the one without which the turning point wouldn't have happened?
• What was the main outcome of the event?
• What was the most important consequence of the event, especially for that individual?

To fictionalize this story and elevate it to a more literary level, ask yourself these questions:

• What if the person was of a different race, ethnic background and/or gender?
• What if the turning point occurred at an earlier or a later stage of the person's life?
• What if the pivotal incident occurred in a different setting, or was a different incident altogether?
• What if the main the main outcome of the event was the opposite or vastly different from what happened?

 Making these changes will change the story and its ending, enabling it to become uniquely yours. The key to this approach is having some affinity for and/or experience in how you answer the questions. For example, if you change the setting, do you have some knowledge of the new locale? Truth is, after all, still stranger than fiction.

Tip: To add spice to your story, consider this adage from John Updike. There's the story you're afraid to tell others and the story you're afraid to tell yourself. That's the one to write. What aspect of your story are you afraid to tell?

Happy writing!

MFAs: Why I Decided on a Master's

For years the idea of getting an MFA has been like a pebble in my shoe — I haven't always been aware of it, just when I stepped a certain way in the writing life.

Low-Residency MFA Handbook

To help me make up my mind, I asked six writer friends what they thought. Their answers ranged from "I would never have gotten an MFA if I hadn't wanted to teach" to "I think it's a great experience." I sided with the person who said he wouldn't have gone back and shelved the idea. Or so I thought.

I remained interested because whenever I wanted to experiment with writing or deepen the learning experience for my workshop students, I found myself wishing I were better read and more well-versed in the underlying reasons why techniques work or don't. I know why on instinct, but I came to believe instinct wasn't enough.

The nagging sense of more to learn wouldn’t leave me, as one of my more patient colleagues can attest (I pestered him often on his experience, which was quite positive). So I went to Poets & Writers' list of top 10 low res programs and whittled it to seven. I wanted low res because I need to work — a gal's gotta eat — and buy shoes.

Yet, even as I started getting packets in the mail, I thought, I won't do this — it's too much time, too much money. I'll just review the literature and see what's offered. I put each packet in a clear plastic, legal-size envelope and ordered the Low-Residency MFA Handbook: A Guide for Prospective Creative Writing Students, a must-have by Lori A. May. I had planned a week off in April and decided to bring the information — just for fun.

When I heard the forecast for the Connecticut shore was mostly drizzle and fog, I considered canceling. But I needed the time, and I certainly had reading material.

The first afternoon was sunny, so I laid by the pool and enjoyed the day, with all that information only a distant concept. Then came the fog. It rolled in like the fright scene in a B movie, so thick that when I went to the ocean in Watch Hill, I could hear the grinding surf but couldn't see it until I went out on the sand.

With its Brontëan feel, the weather was perfect for reading, and as I sat in the hotel room I realized my biggest concerns — time and money — might not be so big. First, it occurred to me that since I care for an older mom, I couldn’t select a program far from home. I also realized that if I jettisoned all projects except my day job, I would have time for the program. Then it dawned on me that the cost might be deductible. In a rush of clarity, the MFA looked possible.

I excluded four of the seven programs and considered only the three I could reach by car in three hours or less. Then I created an Excel spreadsheet with my own comparison chart. And I read Lori May's book, paying particular attention to how often she said, and I paraphrase, don't think you're getting away with anything by choosing a low res MFA. It's the same work, just distributed differently. Still, without all those projects, it looked doable.

I sent emails to the three program coordinators asking one key question — for me anyway — whether they required the GRE. None did. Then I considered the three Ps: price, proximity and program. At first I leaned toward one program, then another, then finally one I had initially dismissed altogether because it wasn't on P&W's list. Yet, the more I looked into it, the more I liked what I saw.

Fairfield University MFA

The program is Fairfield University's low res MFA in creative writing. It had everything I wanted and some things I hadn't noticed at first, like a book prize, an extra residency — abroad (not required, but there if you want it; I like the one in Sicily and hope they keep it) — and a payment plan. And it wasn't the most expensive program, not when I tallied all the fees not listed on the main web page of the other programs. It was like a third date with a decent guy — the more I saw, the more I liked what I saw. When does that ever happen?

When I got home, I scrambled to apply. Why, I asked myself, was I rushing, especially since I didn't plan to attend until spring 2012. But, providentially, I churned out the requisite items, watched the video, contacted the program director, hustled friends for recommendations and sent the packet. When my accountant said the tuition could be deductible, I contacted the MFA director and said I might be able to enroll in 2011. I took slim encouragement from his response that he was glad I let him know.

Meanwhile, I decided not to say anything at work or at home. What an emotional rollercoaster. Some moments, I thought I had a good chance; other moments, I thought I was crazy. Then came the acceptance via email. I think one of my favorite words is "congratulations." But two confirmations remained — home and work. I needed someone to watch out for my mother while I was away the 10 days, and I needed approval for a block of the busiest time in our production schedule. I got both. Now I'm getting up to speed with the required readings, etc.

Amid all the flurry of excitement, there are specific reasons for going back to school at this comparatively late date in life. One is freedom. Not just from that pebble, but to leave what I know behind, the strictures of safe depths. Another is to go from craftsmanship to art. I don't know how to do that except to study with people who are already there.

Tip: For a full treatment on whether to get an MFA, visit Mary Carroll Moore's blog How to Plan, Write and Develop a Book, the post on Following a Different Path: Is an MFA Right for You and Your Book?