Dr. Fuckwit
Whenever I run workshops on writing memoir, biography, and that sort of thing, I instruct participants to keep us mired in the moment. That means if they’re writing about an experience when they were a twelve-year-old, then all I want to see, all I want to know, is what the narrator saw and knew as that twelve-year-old. Keep the narrative as if it’s unfolding then and there. Don’t let the present-day self butt in with present-day wisdom, opinions, or reflection. That punctures the suspension of disbelief. I also always say (and stress this also in fiction workshops I run) that unless there’s a justification for it, keep events chronological. It’s…
The Other Me
‘Life’s Short Interruption: Part II’ i. Once I was back at school, all the fears and awkwardness of twenty years earlier returned, as well as the embarrassment of sharing what little I’d done with my life. There were other mature-age students, but I was so far behind them and where I should’ve been. The exception was the world of writing, where I’d learned about writing, revision, and submitting. In that regard I became somebody to look up to. It didn’t seem very much. The social phobias of being in school also scared me. Whenever we had to partner-up for assignments, I’d sit mute. During breaks, I found it near-impossible to…