What's Elizabeth Reading? ...Mitch Albom

I just finished Mitch Albom's Tuesdays with Morrie, a book I picked up because my in-laws had it on a bookshelf. In retrospect, it was a relevant book for the Thanksgiving holiday.

Tuesdays with Morrie is a best-selling nonfiction book about Albom's experience learning about life and death from an old sociology professor of his, Morrie Schwartz. I read it in two days, with plenty of pause time, and so I would not say it is a hard read or a dense one. It is simple; but then, I am sure Morrie would argue that is because life is simple.

Before I critique this, let me say I enjoyed the read. I looked up Morrie while reading and am waiting for a better time to watch the TV segments on him that were recorded before his death.

The writing is, as I said, simple and easy to understand. There are aphorisms, stories and humorous bits. As mentioned in Writing Tools, that how-to-write book I am going to discuss (can we say this begins the discussion?), Albom employs short sentences, with an uncomplicated structure, to tell truths. Short and to the point makes people think of it as true and indisputable, Writing Tools says, if I remember right without having it in front of me (I am still at a brother-in-law's, typing this on my phone as my toddler nephew bumbles around the room).

Take the last portion of the first paragraph as a sample:

The last class of my old professor's life took place once a week in his house, by a window in the study where he could watch a small hibiscus plant shed its pink leaves. The class met on Tuesdays. It began after breakfast. The subject was The Meaning of Life. It was taught from experience.

This device was used throughout the book, but usually not in quick succession like it was here. You get the idea, though. It worked well for a story trying to tell simple truths. It made them instantly more accessible and acceptable. I never tried to argue with him.

My primary question about the book is how much of it is fudged. When writing creative nonfiction such as this, small details are often fictional. The color of shirt Morrie is wearing, what the weather was like, that sort of thing. Two instances seemed a bit too clean-cut to me: One is when Morrie pulls out a plant to look at while talking about life and how everyone dies. Useful prop to visualize things for a reader, eh? The other is that while Morrie is dying and wants love and attention, there just so happens to be a parallel character -- Albom's brother. He is also terminally ill but does not want any attention whatsoever, completely ignoring all phone calls. Until after Morrie dies, of course, when he finally allows contact. It's just a little too convenient for truth, don't you think? But maybe it is true. Who would be heartless enough to lie like that for cash?

My primary discontent with the book is it doesn't teach life lessons, it tells them. Life lessons are not taught through aphorisms, but through experiences. I suspect this book could only change a life that is ready for it. If life has been trying to teach the same lessons it tells, this might incite the moment of epiphany. Otherwise, I bet people come away from it like I did: "Well, that was a nice, uplifting read." No life changes, no teary phone calls, no new resolutions.

This is why for self-help or inspirational, I prefer fiction. It is easier to experience lessons that way. Easier to write them so that the reader becomes immersed. It can be done in nonfiction, but Albom didn't manage it.

Identity crisis

I had a small identity crisis a few weeks ago.

Ever since I was a child learning how to write, I have written stories. The first one I recall was about a fish who wanted to save a spider who was caught somewhere on land. Another used my uncle's pig for inspiration - I don't remember what it was about, but I know it was titled "Robert the Pig and His Sweater."

From the beginning, it was stories. Fictional stories, that is. Sure, I kept a journal, but I never considered that writing practice. I actively wanted to never work for a newspaper. I wanted to be a novelist.

College hit, and I wanted a job where they would pay me to write, or at least edit, so I applied for Accent editor and Opinion editor without knowing the job description for either. I just knew I did NOT want to be a reporter. At all.

The entire time I worked for the student newspaper, I did not write an article, not a single one, and I worked there for three and a half years.

I left college with the goal of finding a job where I would use my degree, and I ended up at a newspaper again.

I have since written numerous articles. I am not technically a reporter, but I do report. A few weeks ago, I had the realization that I am a journalist and I mainly write nonfiction. As I said, it was a moment of crisis, and I'm not exaggerating.

Who am I as a writer?, I wanted to know. It seemed like this blog and some meager scraps of other writing were all I had to cling to for my "fiction writer" dream.

To end this crisis, I did a couple things. 1) I told myself that people love my nonfiction writing at the newspaper. It makes people happy, even though it may not seem grand. Or fictional. 2) I am now looking at my job as a second school of writing. I am learning a new form and gaining practice and skills in writing that will transfer over when I am finished with newspapers.

I also read yet another how-to-write book, this one called "Writing Tools" and written by Roy Peter Clark. I finished it recently (a good newspaper word that makes something see timely even when it is starting to overripen) and will share my notes with you over the next few weeks, along with explanations to flesh them out.

P.S. - Being a journalist isn't THAT bad, is it?

What's Elizabeth Reading? ...K.W. Negaard II

I read Kenny Negaard's book "Clarence: Adventures in the Great Wood" for my work. I didn't have high hopes for it, mainly because I'm skeptical of local writers. But I was wrong. This is actually a pretty good book.

For a cool backstory on the writer, read the story I wrote for the Idaho Press-Tribune. In brief, Negaard served in the military, wrote the book, then experienced extreme PTSD and landed himself in jail. He thinks that's where God wanted him to be, though, and he wouldn't have had it any other way. He's out of jail now and doing well. The story is pretty cool, so you should give it a read.

"Clarence" is about a caterpillar who becomes best friends with a robin, Tilly, and they decide to be roommates. They find a home, meet people and wait for the day when Clarence will get his own wings, but in the meantime, he flies around on Tilly. It has a bittersweet ending and is a sweet, religious-in-tone story. I honestly think young children would enjoy it if they are in the I-just-started-reading-chapter-books stage and love animals.

By "religious-in-tone," I mean there are frequent references to the Creator and how He watches over and has provided for all of us. It isn't preachy, though there are moments where spiritual stories are shared.

The writing is okay, not necessarily impressive, but I was impressed with Negaard's grasp of story structure (especially since I struggle with it so much). There is a first climax (finding a home), build up, and a second, larger climax, along with adventures along the way. The conflict for the story starts as being "I'm young and don't know anything" and morphs into "Someday, Clarence will get his wings. What will they be like? How does the transformation happen?" There are mentor characters, a frog and a raccoon, and squirrels provide comedic relief. All the elements to make a story are there, and I actually asked him if he had any writing training. He doesn't, but he has figured out the idea of having a writing schedule, which many non-serious writers don't attain (and thus they don't write anything).

He is planning on turning it into a series, with different books starring different characters, so keep an eye out if you purchase this book and enjoy it.

A study in conflict

I've read a couple essays/articles about conflict today, and here is what I gained:

Conflict is about character.

I always put it in its own category, but maybe it is just a facet of a character. C.S. Lakin, an author who also wrote this essay on conflict, says conflict is shaped by the things a character values. Take that thing away or endanger it, then build a story as the character struggles to regain it.

Examples:

Dr. Seuss's The Cat in the Hat: Little boy wanted house to be clean and chores done before Mom gets home. This is challenged by the appearance of the cat, who proceeds to ruin everything.

Crisis moment.

Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre: Lady wants to be righteous and have worth. This is almost fulfilled by a man who falls in love with her ... except he's already married. Also challenged by the perception of her aunt.

Roald Dahl's The BFG: Giant runt doesn't believe in eating humans. This is challenged every day as he watches the other giants go out to eat them.

Point made? As I said, I had always thought of conflict as separate from character. It turns out that you grow a character, and then a conflict comes from/in relation to the character.

So what did my Settled character value? ... It seems he valued his marriage, and he enjoys normalcy instead of lunacy. Apparently, then, the conflict should have been something threatening his marriage. The lunacy thing was a bit of a sideshow, really.

The next question on my mind was when to introduce conflict. Lakin said to do it as soon as possible ... unless you are laying a foundation for the conflict to stand on. I once wrote a short story where the entire introduction was focused on solidifying the relationship between the main character and her younger sister. Then I killed off the younger sister and made my main character deal with it (she didn't do so well).

So note to self: Unless I am purposefully setting up the conflict, it needs to be introduced as soon as possible. There needs to be something to carry the reader through the story.

And a P.S. to that note: Remember to at least have two levels of conflict: Outward and inward. This adds depth to both the conflict and the storyline.

I also thought this was worth noting:

Certain genres and age groups will limit or restrict the type and depth of conflict the writer can explore. Special interest publications allow the writer to target a more specific conflict. YA novels and stories will limit the degree to which you can explore sexual conflicts and physical violence, but will heighten the importance of emotional conflict. A primarily male or female audience will vary in the type and style of conflict. A Christian publisher is more likely to focus on internal conflicts, rather than physical or sexual conflicts. (http://www.fictionfactor.com/articles/conflict.html)