Narrative Biz
How many short-story writers does it take to change a light bulb? Sixteen – one to do it, and the other 15 to provide critical feedback.
I’ve just finished teaching a short-story class at the Victorian Writers Centre, a crew of 16 ambitious beavers – and one embedded journalist named Sarah L’Estrange.
Sarah’s a regular on Radio National’s Bookshow, and wished to capture the spirit and substance of a writing class – testing her own mojo at the short stuff along the way.
Over five weeks we invented characters, kite-flew styles, trialed voices and drank pints of Mountain Goat in the saloon next-door. Come the finale, each of us produced a 1500-word draft.
Mine is still morphing into a story worth reading. (The whole reason I volunteered to take the class was a bid to reignite the fiction flame, which has been sputtering lately.) And I hope the other writers will also keep finessing their stuff into things of beauty.
In the meantime you can hear the upshot of Sarah’s incursion across the RN airwaves in mid-June. (Currently the set date is June 14 – but keep an eye on schedules and/or podcasts.)
Which leaves me with Granta #97 (Best of Young American Novelists Vol 2) to review for the very same Bookshow, a karma kind of payback for thinking I could instill the fiction gift in all-comers.
I’ll talk a little more about that particular mishmash in coming posts. Have you read the same volume? Some of the pieces are bell-ringers, while others glazed the eyes.
Or maybe you’ve been part of a writing group. Can such a thing be vital? Do writers thrive in those kinds of bell jars? I’ve experience both extremes, from a symbiotic uni-group to a neighbourhood snore-fest. Feel free to debrief for the good of us all. And keep the ears peeled mid-June.