Ryan Smith December 10, 2009 Essay 1: The Genre Most of us literature majors are fairly confident of our ability to handle fiction classes, assignments, etc. We are immersed in the genre so often it is difficult not to get over-confident about our skills reading and analyzing it. A few more technical classes – or more hands-on, such as this one – will teach the average lit. student to be more humble. There is so much to learn about fiction reading and writing, and so much absorbed form each semester, each day in class, that it is difficult to know from which angle to get at the subject – the best tactic is to go at it from every angle. Probably the most unexpected method for better understanding fiction this semester came from the textbook assignments; I suppose I am not used to reading from textbooks in literature classes. Hesitance aside, they were usually useful and informative. Much of the information given was things that to most of us are common knowledge, and even these are helpful in cementing certain ideas and terminology in one’s mind, but a significant amount was either new or presented in such a way that it felt new. A particularly useful few lines, for example, about balancing two of the writer’s main goals is found in chapter 19 of the textbook handouts. “In most cases, it is a mistake to blame the situation you have chosen as being inherently melodramatic on the one hand or without dramatic potential on the other…Your goal is to hold the interest without sacrificing characterization and thematic insight” (225). The last line, here, is particularly strong, explaining successful writing in a clear and concise statement. Not only are the dramatic possibilities for nearly any scene encouraged, but the summarized tenets of good writing are also employed, characterization and theme. Another assignment from the textbook which revealed, to me, something noteworthy about fiction was the previous chapter, 18. Early on in the chapter, we receive information about clock time vs. psychological time. The book goes on to describe how people structure time for themselves: “No matter what the content, the memory of the day has quite unconsciously become structured. While the clock has been moving without a break, our life as we look back is recalled as a sequence of episodes” (199). The difference between actual and experienced time is not only fascinating but applicable to reading and writing fiction. William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury comes to mind. To be able to see life as a series of important or memorable events is required for reading such a challenging text, particularly as it plays heavily with time and memory. But even beginner writers will benefit from this information. Keeping the cataloguing of memories in mind while writing fiction should help writers avoid useless details, particularly from a first person perspective, and focus on the memorable, the thematically important. Most of the class, however, was not spent reading the textbook handouts, but in class, workshopping the fiction of other students, or discussing the assignments. One of the rowdier discussions involved, something pulled from an assignment I believe, various fiction genres and the definition and characteristic of the word “literature” itself. From simply naming the different accepted genres of popular writing - the western, for instance, or the romance novel – the class moved to defining what was and what was not “good” writing, or literature. I participated by drawing a distinction between popular writing, writing for money/large audiences by following loose, easily-digested genre formats, and literature, intellectual writing that is marketed and intended for those who interested in depth and stylistic complexity. Although I’m not sure how much of this conversation was appropriate for class time, the distinctions drawn and ideas posed about genre I think were of value. I also remember a discussion that was most likely based off of a workshop, although the textbook assignments cover nearly everything discussed in class to some extent. The class was discussing a student’s fiction piece and debating how writers should go about fictionalizing personal experience. The conversation ranged from the extremes of vaguely altered autobiography to almost entirely escapist fiction, with some arguing for total transparency and others espousing fiction almost entirely divorced from reality. The best choice, I believe, and the class ultimately decided, is somewhat more moderate. Fiction should pull largely, if not entirely, from personal experience of one kind or another but be filtered through the writer’s lens of imagination, blending characters, emotions, actual events, etc. into a coherent piece of literature. This topic was especially useful in revising my fiction for the class, as I wasn’t exactly sure how to balance the fantastic elements of the story with elements pulled from my life. From my own experience reading and having my fiction discussed in class, I suppose I have mostly learned when excessive experimentation, as with sentence structure, and excessive nostalgia, as with the dogs in the story, are appropriate. From the class’ and instructor’s comments, it was clear that fiction writer’s should limit unnecessary story flourished and concentrate on the elements that they are best at and that work in a particular story.
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