LITR 3731: Creative Writing 2006
Sample Final Exam

Karen Heidrich

The Challenge of Sophisticated Writing

Literature courses, in general, require the examination of texts.  I have rarely wondered how a piece started, from what basic idea.  In previous courses, I have studied the final version of any required work.  In this creative writing course, I have studied the process, the journey to that final version.

Browsing through past final exams, I found people were more surprised by the confidence they gained than by what they produced.  Confidence building has been a large part of this course, something future educators can use in their careers.  Perhaps, for those of us not planning to teach, focusing on the creative writing, the practice of the art form, and the journey is more important. 

My first challenge was to create a poem with depth.  I find it difficult to express common abstract feelings of love and loss without sounding trite.  Minot stresses the importance of imagery and how it engages the senses.  The poem I wrote for this class started from an experience, a video clip from memory.  In prose, I wrote about feeding fish while scuba diving.  I tried to layer it with another image, a dictator feeding the people what he wants them to consume.  Minot suggests using image clusters.  Playing with my original image, I can use the visual of the fish, the sound of silence, the taste of salt water, and the sensation of floating.  Used together, the images are clichés.  Taking each image and creating clusters begins as an exercise with the potential of producing fresh ideas.  As an example, I could make lists of things that dart like fish, of sounds that are muffled, of phrases using the word salt.  Brainstorming image clusters does not automatically generate ideas, but they can continue to build on each other until inspiration strikes.  I like the possibilities that one image has to offer.  It is easier to work with something I have experienced so I can break it down into its parts, looking for that seed of an idea. 

Like building on concrete images, building the lines of a poem also intrigues me.  Forcing the rhythm or the rhyme is impossible to hide.  It stifles the emotion.  I felt like some of the pieces presented in class were weakened by the author's attempt to fit a message into a form.  That is what I tried to do with my first draft, before reading beyond chapter two in Three Genres.  Treating each chapter like a lesson and practicing the techniques takes time.  Until a reader suggested breaking my sentences into lines, I did not understand how to apply the technique of enjambment to my work.  The success of any piece comes from time spent reworking it.  Unlike a puzzle, the pieces do not always fit.

Developing a piece of sophisticated fiction proved a different challenge.  My story started with the idea of parental expectations.  From that, following Minot's suggestions, I had to develop a theme exploring the conflict; a plot that did not rely on action; distinctive characters that were complex and consistent; and a setting that was interesting.  Knowing what the pieces are does not make the process easier. 

In the short-short story I wrote for the assignment, I tried working through the steps, one at a time.  I find creating well-rounded characters is one of the most time-consuming parts of the fiction writing process.  It seems that literary fiction succeeds by transforming real-life experiences and by stressing the ambiguities that people often miss, looking at themselves and others.    

I look for complexity in everything I read, often finding it where I least expect it.  This course has not changed the types of literature I will choose in the future, only my expectations of it.  What I read while waiting for the traffic light to turn green is different than what I read when I'm alone.  What I write depends on my audience and the requirements.  I have an editor angel on one shoulder and a muse on the other, watching every tap of the keyboard and motivating me to develop a style that is distinctly me.