Monday, September 20

Poetry & Flash Fiction with Kim Lozano

Today imaginative writers at GCAA talked poetry, innovative nonfiction, and flash fiction with author and creative composing instructor Kim Lozano.

Here are a couple things we talked about …

Honing our ability to see originally
Composing particularly
Avoiding unclear words like “beautiful” and zeroing in on imagery

The idea that uniqueness & & imagery apply to fiction, innovative nonfiction– all types of writing
Embodying emotions in the type of things: What can I do to show the reader that Im mad?

Program, dont tell is a creative writing cliché but its true– > learn the rules first and then break them
The power of our work remains in our details
Think of gestures– for example, what a character finishes with their hands
Under-utilized aspect for a great deal of poets is the title

We check out …

PowerBy Corrine Hales

My bro jabbed at me, Pointed down the tracks. A manHad climbed out of the engine, was runningIn our instructions, waving his arms, Screaming that he would eliminate us– Whoever we were, Then, extremely near the spotWhere we hid, he stomped and cursedAt the rags and papers scatteredOver the gravel from our joke.

Then it remained in front of us– A hundred iron wheels tearing like timeInto red flannel and denim, shredding the childWe had made– until it lastly stopped.

Nobody we understood had every stopped a train.Hardly bold to breathe, I waitedBelly-down with my brotherIn a dry ditchWatching through the green thicknessOf lawn and willows.Stuffed with crumpled newspapers, The t-shirt and pants looked genuine enoughStretched out across the rails. I felt my heartBeating versus the cool groundAnd the terrible long screetch of the train sBraking began. We had actually done it.

In this poem, the title Power tips at the physical power of a train, the power of youngsters to pull a prank, and the kids realizing their power at the end of the poem. As this poem does, its sensible at the end of your work to leave it a little unwrapped.

I attempted to bear in mind which of usThat red shirt had come from, But morning appeared too long ago, and the manWas falling, sobbing, to his knees.I could not stop watching.My bro lay next to me, His hands covering his ears, His face pressed tight to the ground.

Feared DrownedBy Sharon Olds

None of the swimmers is simply right.Too short, too heavy, clean-shaven, they rise out of the browse, the waterrushing down their shoulders.

Rocks stand out near shore like heads.Kelp snakes in like a shed black suitand I can not discover you.

Somebody enjoys the kids. I walk down theedge of the water, clutching the towellike a widows shawl around me.

All of a sudden no one understands where you are, your suit black as seaweed, your beardedhead slick as a seals.

My stomach begins to agreement as if tovomit salt water,

As this poem shows, youre choosing similes and metaphors, think about the world youre in and the kinds of images that fit with your theme. Description shows how your character feels.

Coming closer, he turns outto be you– or nearly.Once you lose somebody it is never ever exactlythe same individual who comes back.

when up the sand toward me comesa guy who looks really much like you, his beard matted like beach yard, his suitdark as a damp shell against his body.

Composing Exercise Number One

Offered the emotional angle you take, you can create truly various descriptions of the same place. Given that, try among the 3 following writing triggers …

Describe this class from the point of view of a person who has time-traveled here from ancient times. Do not mention time-travel.
Describe this class from the viewpoint of someone whose favorite pet has just died. Do not point out the animal or death.
Explain this class from the point of view of a snake. Do not mention the snake.

Here one of our actions to prompt # 3:

But at breakfast I went a little weird like the lady down the street who appears at individualss doors with a snarling canine and a hammer in her pocket, I went wild and furious and he swore they just appeared like weeds to him, why hadnt I warned him, why did I only tell Dad?

Home lived, Generating Ideas …

Ask yourself what impact the occurrence had on your life. Why do you remember this? Was it a minute you grew or altered? Did you learn something essential about yourself or the world? Was it something that wounded you deeply?

Weave in your own reflectionsThis isnt the like ending with a formulaic conclusion or a “ethical of the story”.

He needs to have pressed really tough to get it to go.

It looked like an oval of overgrown weeds to him, in the front yard, beyond the stones of the flowerbeds, near the black mailbox on the post. He did not know that for weeks I had actually been carefully tending and watering it, as a couple of primroses drifted their pink heads above the green mass, unfurled their fragile bonnets.

Offer a fresh perspectiveEverybody has a fresh point of view, however beginning writers tend to depend on their very first ideas or count on language clichés.

Waste nothing. Simply put: every image needs to carry weight.
Program the most, tell a bit, and never explaina cliché of creative writing, know all the guidelines, then break them.

Not discussing reports, newspaper journalism.

Select one of your concepts and write as lots of specific information as you can recall..

Energy hinges on a rapid-fire of informationUse specific details/avoid the abstract/turn your feelings into things– set a state of mind.

I pointed them out to you weeks back, I stated.

With the web, its become extremely popular to write short pieces.

Recall a house in remember you.
Recall an event that filled you with dread.
Remember something unsafe you did as a child.
Recall something that took place at a holiday get-together.
Remember a magical or essential person from your childhood.
Remember an event that happened at school.

Nonfiction is real to the very best of my ability– theres space to play with things that are incidental– things that are major need to hold true.
The creative part of innovative nonfiction is sensory information, imagery, figurative language, using the techniques of fiction: discussion, plot, metaphor, simile.
Examples of creative nonfiction: narrative, travel writing, humor pieces, post.

Writing Exercise Number Two: Flash Fiction.

Review of Creative Nonfiction.

Do not just identify the deal with a title. Make your title do double responsibility.
Revise, revise, modify– very little imaginative writing comes out in one shotWriting that is simple to read is hard to compose..

Another flash fiction piece worth reading is Confessions by Amy Tan from …

In general, believe of writing like a great magic program. In composing, youre the magician, and you understand the techniques.

He cut it down with the old push lawn mower. I ran out town– he didnt ask his dad, who knew how precious it was to me– his father remained in the back while this was occurring and didnt see– there wasnt a second thought– why would we have such a high patch in the yard– what does my mother do when she comes out here with the old shovel and the container and the mystical sacks of rose food and mulch, poking around in the earth, trimming, the clippers in her pocket, beinding to the wild tangle of jasmine on the fence, the Dutchmans- pipe, the delighted oregano, the funny cacti crowded together in complex profusion like a household, the miniature chiles– what does she do, why is this here?

He just sufficed down. It wasnt easy.

Flash Nonfiction Toolbox.

Like this:.
Like Loading …

He said, I do not remember flower things like that.


Flash just means brief– definitely under 2000 words; theres not a set word limit, however often 750 words; depends on the editor or publication.

She has an American mom, a Palestinian father, and is understood for her poetry.

When I stood outside in my nightie the next dreamy-sweet early morning at dawn after returning home on the midnight airplane, watering my bluebonnets snapdragons butterfly bush lantana, wishing to feel connected to the earth once again, as I constantly do when I get home, rooted in soil and stone and old caliche and bamboo and trees, a century of memory in their bushes and trunks we didnt plant, and the healthy esperanza never ever losing her hope, and the banana palms poking out their fine and thoughtful greenery, when I all of a sudden saw what was gone, what wasnt there, not there, difficult, I was so stunned I let the pipe run all over my bare feet. The cold stun of fury filled me, grief putting and rising into questions: who could do this, why, why, how could anyone? I believed of the time my daddy cmae home to discover every head cut off his giant sunflowers fight after they had opened their faces to the sky, and only the empty stalks remaining, heads slashed to the ground, his disbelieving grief as he went to his room and set on the bed and closed his eyes, and I thought, I will not discuss this, I am too sad to discuss it, this is the pain of individuals everywhere, this is the discomfort this year is worthy of.

And it was the season of flowering and comprehending. It was the season of pulling weeds in other corners, concealing from headings, questioning what it would do if the entire home had been erased or just the paintings and books or what about the entire negligent garden or (then it gets unthinkable but we make ourselves believe it once in a while to stay human) the childs arms or legs, what would I do? If I did not love him, who would I end up being?

Focus on one thingDont cut a long piece down, flash fiction resembles a poem, its a distilled form.

Introduction to Flash Fiction.

No one we knew had every stopped a train.Hardly daring to breathe, I waitedBelly-down with my brotherIn a dry ditchWatching through the green thicknessOf turf and willows.Stuffed with crumpled newspapers, The shirt and trousers looked real enoughStretched out throughout the rails. Offered that, try one of the three following composing triggers …

When all these unbelievably acted kids submit out each and daily, I provide a great stretch like the sun spreading across the horizon. A quick slide down the cold metal bookshelf, happily unfurling myself in the black wire bins of wrinkled documents. If only Mrs. ODonnell might see me strut across those black letters when she shuts the door behind her at night–.

Describe this classroom from explain perspective class a person who has time-traveled here from ancient times. In general, believe of composing like an excellent magic show. In composing, youre the magician, and you understand the techniques. I believed of the time my daddy cmae home to find every head cut off his huge sunflowers battle after they had opened their faces to the sky, and just the empty stalks remaining, heads slashed to the ground, his disbelieving sadness as he went to his room and lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, and I thought, I will not mention this, I am too sad to discuss it, this is the discomfort of people all over, this is the discomfort this year should have.

Somebody I Love.

Required “heat” from the first sentencesome sort of urgency, word one, sentence one.

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