Francisco's Journal an author discusses the art of writing

February 28, 2009

Beginnings- Marcelo in the Real World

March 1, 2009 is the official release date for Marcelo in the Real World. I was looking in my journals the other day and ran into an entry written back in May of 2005 that talked about writing a story from the point of view of the son of Aurora, the protagonist of the novel I was then in the midst of writing. A few weeks later, I started experimenting with a story about Marcelo, the son of Aurora. What happened in the four years that followed can best be described as “false starts that got me closer to where the story wanted to go.” I would say that at least three versions of Marcelo were produced over a three year period before the right one chose to reveal itself. I wonder sometimes whether there was anyway to have gone straight to the final version and skip the pain of not getting it right. I’m inclined to think that with some books you can and with some you can’t. Marcelo was one of those books that required trial and error. I can see now that the character of Marcelo didn’t change that much all along and that is a good sign. It means that throughout, I somehow managed to remain true to the initial vision, the force that impelled me to create a character like Marcelo and to write about him.

You may be a young person who has a book you want to write. But you want it written and published like right now. You have the idea for the book in your head and maybe forty typed pages written already. You want to finish it and publish it before the school year is over if possible. You get the picture. In those forty pages of yours, there is a seed that may follow its course and grow into the book you are writing or maybe it will grow some place else. Please know that it will not be wasted. The probabilities that you have a “false start” in your hands are high. But it may also be a false start that gets you closer to where the story wants to go.

May Marcelo do well in the Real World. I send him out with all the blessings of a proud father. He persevered and kept insisting, even clamoring to be born, and so he did.

February 6, 2009

You Take my Breath Away

Filed under: Authors,Beauty,Current Events,Uncategorized,Writing — Francisco Stork @ 9:16 pm

John Updike, one of my favorite writers died last week. The New Yorker published this week (February 2, 2009) excerpts from John Updike’s writings. I am glad they were excerpts because I could hardly breathe as I read them. So much of John Updike’s writing takes my breath away every time I read it or re-read it. I’ll be reading one of his novels and then GASP all of the sudden there’s not enough air in the room or in the universe. Beauty does that. The beautiful has an affect on the body . . . like love. I write this because, while it is correct to say, as I did a few days ago on another journal entry, that the more truthful your writing, the more beautiful it is, still, I don’t want you to think that “truth” is all there is to good writing. There are writers (like John Updike) whose writings are both truthful AND take your breath away. In writers like Updike, the “How” and the “What” are especially connected if not united, so that, for example, his brilliant metaphors actually reveal a side of reality you had not seen or considered before. People like me need to forego any attempts to dazzle. “Stay on the safe side, and concentrate on truthful writing rather than on trying to take anyone’s breath away”, is what I tell myself. And if you are starting to write, I would strongly recommend you tell yourself something similar. However, sometimes there is no other way of saying it other than by saying it beautifully. If you find that there is ABSOLUTELY no other way of conveying the truth than by taking the reader’s breath away, well then, in that case, please proceed. With Caution.

January 27, 2009

The Artistic Impulse

Filed under: Uncategorized — Francisco Stork @ 6:04 am

I don’t hear that much this day of the writer as an artist. We still refer to a painter or a sculptor or a pianist as an artist but the writer and the artist have been disconnected. We associate art with the creation of something beautiful that will exist either in space like a painting or in time like a musical composition. But if we, as writers of fiction, communicate a vision of ourselves as artists, as creators of beauty, we are taken as snobbish. Perhaps the problem is that beauty is so hard to define. As a writer I like this definition by John Keats: “Beauty is truth and truth is beauty.” Truly, that is all I need to know. To the extent that I am truthful in what I write, to the extent that my characters are real, to the extent that I do not over-simplify, to the extent that I do not stay on the surface but dig deep and even deeper in myself and in all life where truth resides, to that extent I am creating something that is beautiful.

A writer is like any other artist in that they both share the same impulse to create something beautiful. Say that you are fifteen and you want to be a writer. Where does this “want” come from? Do you want to write short-stories or poems or a science fiction novel because you want to impress your friends or, even worse, impress that special boy or girl you have your eye on? It’s okay if you do. If this is the only reason you want to write, you will in a few months move on to other activities that have a greater chance of impressing others and are less painful (like football or Lacrosse or cross country running, or hitting your head against a wall!). But if there is a restlessness in you, a kind of fever to create something that is beautiful (truthful) then you better get a notebook or sit at your computer and start writing. Here’s a test as to whether this restlessness you feel is truly an artistic impulse. Do you always feel a certain dissatisfaction after you finished writing even when you know you wrote your best? You tried your hardest but you still feel you missed what you wanted to say. If so, stick around and keep writing, you are the proud owner of an artistic impulse. Congratulations and I’m sorry. You have been given a gift and a burden.

« Newer PostsOlder Posts »

Powered by WordPress