http://www.miscmum.com/2011/08/17/10-life-changing-books-of-the-past-10-years/comment-page-1/#comment-12229
Not an original idea for a book group, but still, a good way to get to know people in the group.
And the books nominated here are, in my opinion, all worth reading.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
Advice for writers - Peter FitzSimons
I'm going to park some information about writing here as well as about reading. This is from the Sydney Morning Herald 12.1.2011.
Peter FitzSimons recommends that budding writers should find their voice and then listen to it.
Yes, yes, yes, I know you don't like the way I write in the first place, and everyone you know thinks the same, but that is not the point. The point is I make a living out of it and am approached frequently by aspiring younger writers for tips on how they might be able to do the same.
And I also concede that there is no exact formula, with different approaches working for different people. The great Hunter S. Thompson once said: "I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence or insanity to anyone but they've always worked for me." And that really is not for everyone, particularly not you kids starting out.
But, me? I thought you'd never ask. When young men approach me, I give them a brief speech that runs along the following lines.
If you want to write, you have to have something to say that people will give a stuff about. And they will be more likely to give a stuff if you've done things they haven't. Therefore – and pay attention, young man, because this is the important part – you need to get out of the safe bubble of your existence and broaden your experience.
So, I hate to advocate that you hitchhike around Australia, get a job labouring in Karratha, travel to India and fall in love with a Norwegian girl who breaks your heart, just before you get dysentery and fall in with some nice Israeli blokes with whom you trek to the Chinese border north-west of Kathmandu, and next thing you know you're being monstered by a bikie gang called, I kid you not, Der Bullshits, in a so-called Danish utopia called Christiania, and retreat to Amsterdam, where you get a case of the clap that would kill a brown dog and then travel through Uganda with some drug-addled truck-drivers who "hit the gate, doin' 98" through road barricades put up by starving AWOL soldiers from the civil war, before you get away and head south to cross the Zambezi River . . . but it worked for me. (And no, seeing as you ask, I don't give the same advice to young women. I push the same theme, with different specifics, and then steer them towards my wife.)
And, mostly, the young men listen. My only notable failure in this field was when a 22-year-old actually took notes and, for the next two years, I was getting emails from him every few months, saying, "I am in Karratha . . .", "have arrived in Madras and have met a lovely Swedish girl . . .", "I can't believe it but Der Bullshits are still here in Christiania, and they're worse than ever!", "civil war is over in Uganda but this is a crazy place" and so forth, until, finally, the last email said, "OK, have crossed the Zambezi River. What now?"
Look, he didn't end up writing for a living but he certainly didn't regret the trip. The point, I repeat, is to get as much width of life-experience as you can before you work out just where the best spot to drill is, when you start to write in a given field.
And here are another few tips, for what it's worth:
Read. Not now and then, in bits and pieces, but lots, all the time. Phillip Adams once said: "Show me someone who reads a book a week and I'll show you a good person." And I'll show you a better writer. The same thrust for diversity should apply. By reading widely and looking at the techniques used by different writers, you'll get a feel for what style will work for you. It will seep into the marrow of your bones and come out of your fingers as you write.
Find your voice. Find the style of writing, the "voice" of writing, that works for you. If it is a bit different, don't be put off by the critics. When I started out, I took a lot of flak for a rather idiosyncratic way of expressing things but I persisted and couldn't help but notice that, as the years passed, my cars got faster, my houses got bigger and my women more beautiful. (Oh, shut up. I've used that line a hundred times, as it gets a reaction and that, too, is no bad star to steer by.)
Then listen to the little voice. Once you've got your voice, train yourself to listen to the little voice that whispers truths to you as you are writing. If it is saying to you that "this just isn't working, you've taken the totally wrong angle on this" . . . it is probably right.
Don't ever say your subject is boring. That only means you're boring. Whatever task you are given to write about, your job is to find the angle that will grab the attention of your readers and take them with you. No matter what fascinating information you have to impart, there is no point if they have stopped reading after the first few, dull paragraphs.
The art of writing is the art of rewriting. No matter what you write, it will always get better on the second draft and be 10 times better by the 10th draft. Whenever you finish writing something at midnight and re-read it, you are reading it with "hot eyes." You know exactly what you mean to say because you bloody well wrote it. Leave it for a day or so and then go back and read it with "cold eyes". Always, but always, you will see ways to improve it. If it is an important piece of writing, such as the first time you're published, you can keep doing this till your nose bleeds. For my first piece in the Herald – I couldn't say exactly when but I think it was March 25, 1986 – I worked on it off and on for three months and then intensely for two days and nights.
Don't whinge about how hard it is. Tolstoy, or one of those Russian boogers, once said: "I don't like writing but I love having written." Same for you and me. I used to feel like that but I now love both. Push through the hard yakka and it gets easier, and more satisfying. Good luck!
Peter FitzSimons is a Herald and Sun-Herald columnist and has written 23 books, including his latest, A Simpler Time. He is Australia's best-selling non-fiction author of the past 10 years.
Peter FitzSimons recommends that budding writers should find their voice and then listen to it.
Yes, yes, yes, I know you don't like the way I write in the first place, and everyone you know thinks the same, but that is not the point. The point is I make a living out of it and am approached frequently by aspiring younger writers for tips on how they might be able to do the same.
And I also concede that there is no exact formula, with different approaches working for different people. The great Hunter S. Thompson once said: "I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence or insanity to anyone but they've always worked for me." And that really is not for everyone, particularly not you kids starting out.
But, me? I thought you'd never ask. When young men approach me, I give them a brief speech that runs along the following lines.
If you want to write, you have to have something to say that people will give a stuff about. And they will be more likely to give a stuff if you've done things they haven't. Therefore – and pay attention, young man, because this is the important part – you need to get out of the safe bubble of your existence and broaden your experience.
So, I hate to advocate that you hitchhike around Australia, get a job labouring in Karratha, travel to India and fall in love with a Norwegian girl who breaks your heart, just before you get dysentery and fall in with some nice Israeli blokes with whom you trek to the Chinese border north-west of Kathmandu, and next thing you know you're being monstered by a bikie gang called, I kid you not, Der Bullshits, in a so-called Danish utopia called Christiania, and retreat to Amsterdam, where you get a case of the clap that would kill a brown dog and then travel through Uganda with some drug-addled truck-drivers who "hit the gate, doin' 98" through road barricades put up by starving AWOL soldiers from the civil war, before you get away and head south to cross the Zambezi River . . . but it worked for me. (And no, seeing as you ask, I don't give the same advice to young women. I push the same theme, with different specifics, and then steer them towards my wife.)
And, mostly, the young men listen. My only notable failure in this field was when a 22-year-old actually took notes and, for the next two years, I was getting emails from him every few months, saying, "I am in Karratha . . .", "have arrived in Madras and have met a lovely Swedish girl . . .", "I can't believe it but Der Bullshits are still here in Christiania, and they're worse than ever!", "civil war is over in Uganda but this is a crazy place" and so forth, until, finally, the last email said, "OK, have crossed the Zambezi River. What now?"
Look, he didn't end up writing for a living but he certainly didn't regret the trip. The point, I repeat, is to get as much width of life-experience as you can before you work out just where the best spot to drill is, when you start to write in a given field.
And here are another few tips, for what it's worth:
Read. Not now and then, in bits and pieces, but lots, all the time. Phillip Adams once said: "Show me someone who reads a book a week and I'll show you a good person." And I'll show you a better writer. The same thrust for diversity should apply. By reading widely and looking at the techniques used by different writers, you'll get a feel for what style will work for you. It will seep into the marrow of your bones and come out of your fingers as you write.
Find your voice. Find the style of writing, the "voice" of writing, that works for you. If it is a bit different, don't be put off by the critics. When I started out, I took a lot of flak for a rather idiosyncratic way of expressing things but I persisted and couldn't help but notice that, as the years passed, my cars got faster, my houses got bigger and my women more beautiful. (Oh, shut up. I've used that line a hundred times, as it gets a reaction and that, too, is no bad star to steer by.)
Then listen to the little voice. Once you've got your voice, train yourself to listen to the little voice that whispers truths to you as you are writing. If it is saying to you that "this just isn't working, you've taken the totally wrong angle on this" . . . it is probably right.
Don't ever say your subject is boring. That only means you're boring. Whatever task you are given to write about, your job is to find the angle that will grab the attention of your readers and take them with you. No matter what fascinating information you have to impart, there is no point if they have stopped reading after the first few, dull paragraphs.
The art of writing is the art of rewriting. No matter what you write, it will always get better on the second draft and be 10 times better by the 10th draft. Whenever you finish writing something at midnight and re-read it, you are reading it with "hot eyes." You know exactly what you mean to say because you bloody well wrote it. Leave it for a day or so and then go back and read it with "cold eyes". Always, but always, you will see ways to improve it. If it is an important piece of writing, such as the first time you're published, you can keep doing this till your nose bleeds. For my first piece in the Herald – I couldn't say exactly when but I think it was March 25, 1986 – I worked on it off and on for three months and then intensely for two days and nights.
Don't whinge about how hard it is. Tolstoy, or one of those Russian boogers, once said: "I don't like writing but I love having written." Same for you and me. I used to feel like that but I now love both. Push through the hard yakka and it gets easier, and more satisfying. Good luck!
Peter FitzSimons is a Herald and Sun-Herald columnist and has written 23 books, including his latest, A Simpler Time. He is Australia's best-selling non-fiction author of the past 10 years.
Monday, January 3, 2011
John Sutherland's new book '50 Literature Ideas you Really Need to Know'.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/dec/30/john-sutherland-top-10-books-about-books
An article in The Guardian about John Sutherland's new book called 50 Literature Ideas You Really Need to Know. I've enjoyed his other books. This piece lists his top 10 literary critics.
"There are only a handful of grand-master literary critics in action at any one time in the English-speaking world. We lost one of our greatest literary critics, Frank Kermode, a few months ago. That leaves, by my count, Christopher Ricks, Terry Eagleton, and Elaine Showalter. Others will have a different pantheon – but if they're honest it will be highly select.
"The hardest lit-crit is that which asks the simplest questions. What's the difference between a 'story' by Ian McEwan and a 'story' on the front page of the Guardian? What precisely, is 'lost' in translation? Literature 'means' something. But is that meaning located in the author's mind, on the page, or in the reader's mind? Why does literature (unlike, say, the discourses of law or science) cultivate 'ambiguity' – saying many things at the same time?"
The top 10
1. Aristotle, The Poetics (Ingram Bywater translation)
2. Susan Sontag, Against Interpretation (1966)
3. Stanley Fish, Is there a Text in this Class? (1980)
4. Elaine Showalter, A Literature of their Own (1978)
5. Roland Barthes, S/Z (1977: Richard Miller translation)
6. Frank Kermode, The Sense of an Ending (revised edition, 2000)
7. Terry Eagleton, Marxism and Literary Criticism (1976)
8. Stephen Greenblatt, Renaissance Self-Fashioning (1980)
9. Christopher Ricks, Milton's Grand Style (1963)
10. Henry Louis Gates Jr, The Signifying Monkey (1988)
I studied Critical Theory at uni last semester, and I'm interested in this stuff. I bought some books by Frank Kermode for myself for Christmas. The comments suggest other books, and question the exclusion of Harold Bloom. I can no longer think of Harold Bloom without thinking of this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obTNwPJvOI8
An article in The Guardian about John Sutherland's new book called 50 Literature Ideas You Really Need to Know. I've enjoyed his other books. This piece lists his top 10 literary critics.
"There are only a handful of grand-master literary critics in action at any one time in the English-speaking world. We lost one of our greatest literary critics, Frank Kermode, a few months ago. That leaves, by my count, Christopher Ricks, Terry Eagleton, and Elaine Showalter. Others will have a different pantheon – but if they're honest it will be highly select.
"The hardest lit-crit is that which asks the simplest questions. What's the difference between a 'story' by Ian McEwan and a 'story' on the front page of the Guardian? What precisely, is 'lost' in translation? Literature 'means' something. But is that meaning located in the author's mind, on the page, or in the reader's mind? Why does literature (unlike, say, the discourses of law or science) cultivate 'ambiguity' – saying many things at the same time?"
The top 10
1. Aristotle, The Poetics (Ingram Bywater translation)
2. Susan Sontag, Against Interpretation (1966)
3. Stanley Fish, Is there a Text in this Class? (1980)
4. Elaine Showalter, A Literature of their Own (1978)
5. Roland Barthes, S/Z (1977: Richard Miller translation)
6. Frank Kermode, The Sense of an Ending (revised edition, 2000)
7. Terry Eagleton, Marxism and Literary Criticism (1976)
8. Stephen Greenblatt, Renaissance Self-Fashioning (1980)
9. Christopher Ricks, Milton's Grand Style (1963)
10. Henry Louis Gates Jr, The Signifying Monkey (1988)
I studied Critical Theory at uni last semester, and I'm interested in this stuff. I bought some books by Frank Kermode for myself for Christmas. The comments suggest other books, and question the exclusion of Harold Bloom. I can no longer think of Harold Bloom without thinking of this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obTNwPJvOI8
Friday, July 16, 2010
Creative Non-Fiction
This is a misunderstood and growing genre, so I thought I'd share this small piece which includes some explanation.
http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/waiting-for-reality-to-strike-20100716-10dvb.html
Waiting for reality to strike
JANE SULLIVAN
July 17, 2010 - 7:24AM
I've had an audience with a godfather. It took place in St Kilda, in a grand 19th-century salon crowded with devoted followers. He didn't quite make us an offer we couldn't refuse, but he told us what he did and what we should do, and we were full of respect, and we went away all fired up to do his bidding.
No, he wasn't Don Corleone or Tony Soprano. He was white-bearded, bespectacled and laid-back. He was Lee Gutkind, teacher, editor and prize-winning author of more than a dozen books, and he was having a chat with Peter Bishop, creative director of Varuna, The Writers' House, at Glenfern writers' studios last month.
Vanity Fair dubbed Gutkind "the Godfather of creative non-fiction" — a term so new in Australia that not many people recognise it, even when they are writing or publishing it. But in the US it's a big deal.
Creative non-fiction, Gutkind told us, is the fastest-growing genre in the American publishing and academic world. Since he began the first teaching program at the University of Pittsburgh 15 years ago, more than 70 master's degree courses have sprung up.
What do creative non-fiction writers do? Two things, Gutkind says: "We reflect on our own lives and try to record what happened to us that made us what we are today; and we have special personal experiences to make ourselves part of someone else's world for long periods of time, so we can understand these worlds and show them to other people through our eyes."
The first path leads to memoir. The second path leads to books such as Gutkind's Many Sleepless Nights, the inside story of organ-transplant patients; or on a more personal level, Truckin' with Sam, his story of trekking around America in a pick-up truck with his son.
How do you write such books? You don't swoop in and out like a journalist, hustling for the story. You hang out, don't ask questions, wait for something to happen and remember it until you have a chance to write it down. Then write it as if you were writing a novel. Make it dramatic and suspenseful, so your reader can't put it down. Then figure out what that experience means.
It strikes me that a good creative non-fiction writer is going to need tremendous patience. You can't make up scenes, as a novelist can: you have to wait for them. Gutkind had to wait four years to understand what was going on with his organ-transplant patients. And perhaps the hardest thing is to grasp the meaning of your experience. What Gutkind would really like to do is teach his students creative thinking.
Fortunately, he thinks Australia is a great country for creative non-fiction: "People are still sharing stories about their lives in a way that people in the US are no longer doing." Peter Bishop named several recent Australian books he thought were fine examples of the genre (including Exposure, by Joel Magarey; Bruce and Me, by Oren Siedler; Piano Lessons, by Anna Goldsworthy; The Weight of Silence, by Catherine Therese; and Knockabout Girl, by Pip Newling).
In Melbourne, we've been lucky to have some close encounters with US creative non-fiction gurus. Varuna also brought us Robin Hemley, director of the non-fiction writing program at the University of Iowa, who is now working with the writers' house and Griffith Review on an essay competition and masterclass. May these collaborations inspire even more great Australian non-fiction.
http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/waiting-for-reality-to-strike-20100716-10dvb.html
Waiting for reality to strike
JANE SULLIVAN
July 17, 2010 - 7:24AM
I've had an audience with a godfather. It took place in St Kilda, in a grand 19th-century salon crowded with devoted followers. He didn't quite make us an offer we couldn't refuse, but he told us what he did and what we should do, and we were full of respect, and we went away all fired up to do his bidding.
No, he wasn't Don Corleone or Tony Soprano. He was white-bearded, bespectacled and laid-back. He was Lee Gutkind, teacher, editor and prize-winning author of more than a dozen books, and he was having a chat with Peter Bishop, creative director of Varuna, The Writers' House, at Glenfern writers' studios last month.
Vanity Fair dubbed Gutkind "the Godfather of creative non-fiction" — a term so new in Australia that not many people recognise it, even when they are writing or publishing it. But in the US it's a big deal.
Creative non-fiction, Gutkind told us, is the fastest-growing genre in the American publishing and academic world. Since he began the first teaching program at the University of Pittsburgh 15 years ago, more than 70 master's degree courses have sprung up.
What do creative non-fiction writers do? Two things, Gutkind says: "We reflect on our own lives and try to record what happened to us that made us what we are today; and we have special personal experiences to make ourselves part of someone else's world for long periods of time, so we can understand these worlds and show them to other people through our eyes."
The first path leads to memoir. The second path leads to books such as Gutkind's Many Sleepless Nights, the inside story of organ-transplant patients; or on a more personal level, Truckin' with Sam, his story of trekking around America in a pick-up truck with his son.
How do you write such books? You don't swoop in and out like a journalist, hustling for the story. You hang out, don't ask questions, wait for something to happen and remember it until you have a chance to write it down. Then write it as if you were writing a novel. Make it dramatic and suspenseful, so your reader can't put it down. Then figure out what that experience means.
It strikes me that a good creative non-fiction writer is going to need tremendous patience. You can't make up scenes, as a novelist can: you have to wait for them. Gutkind had to wait four years to understand what was going on with his organ-transplant patients. And perhaps the hardest thing is to grasp the meaning of your experience. What Gutkind would really like to do is teach his students creative thinking.
Fortunately, he thinks Australia is a great country for creative non-fiction: "People are still sharing stories about their lives in a way that people in the US are no longer doing." Peter Bishop named several recent Australian books he thought were fine examples of the genre (including Exposure, by Joel Magarey; Bruce and Me, by Oren Siedler; Piano Lessons, by Anna Goldsworthy; The Weight of Silence, by Catherine Therese; and Knockabout Girl, by Pip Newling).
In Melbourne, we've been lucky to have some close encounters with US creative non-fiction gurus. Varuna also brought us Robin Hemley, director of the non-fiction writing program at the University of Iowa, who is now working with the writers' house and Griffith Review on an essay competition and masterclass. May these collaborations inspire even more great Australian non-fiction.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Austen marketed to vampire market
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when I saw an advertisement for Pride and Prejudice in the Scholastic Bookclub brochure that the kids bring home from school. The new edition is being marketed to lovers of the Twilight series. It has a black cover, with a red and white rose, with the promo: 'Love isn't always at first sight', and the trivia alert: 'This is Stephanie Meyer's favourite book!'
Of all the teenage girls I know who've read Twilight (and yes, I read the first book) I've asked if they have read Bram Stoker's Dracula, and they all said no.
An approach worth trying, I suppose.
Of all the teenage girls I know who've read Twilight (and yes, I read the first book) I've asked if they have read Bram Stoker's Dracula, and they all said no.
An approach worth trying, I suppose.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Advice about writing
Over the years I've read quite a few tips from writers. Advice like, avoid adverbs (it means you have chosen the wrong verb, says Stephen King), be careful using metaphor and similes, report dialogue with the word 'said', rather than anything more descriptive (eg, complained, whined, exclaimed, blurted). The Guardian has published quite a list of tips from writers of fiction.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/feb/20/ten-rules-for-writing-fiction-part-one
Their advice seems to be in direct contrast to what children are taught at school. Be descriptive. Never use 'got' or 'said'. Use metaphor and simile. Use adverbs.
I must say I see the consequences of how writing is taught in school, mostly in children's books, and find it jarring, and frankly, try hard. Poor writing.
It seems that to write well as an adult we need to unlearn all we learnt at school, and say what we mean as simply and accurately as possible.
A favourite classics teacher I had a university said good writing requires brevity, a voice, and something else I can't remember.
What do you think are the rules for good writing? Should these rules be taught at school? Or do we need to know the terms, then learn to use them sparingly?
I'll have a think and reply to my own questions.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/feb/20/ten-rules-for-writing-fiction-part-one
Their advice seems to be in direct contrast to what children are taught at school. Be descriptive. Never use 'got' or 'said'. Use metaphor and simile. Use adverbs.
I must say I see the consequences of how writing is taught in school, mostly in children's books, and find it jarring, and frankly, try hard. Poor writing.
It seems that to write well as an adult we need to unlearn all we learnt at school, and say what we mean as simply and accurately as possible.
A favourite classics teacher I had a university said good writing requires brevity, a voice, and something else I can't remember.
What do you think are the rules for good writing? Should these rules be taught at school? Or do we need to know the terms, then learn to use them sparingly?
I'll have a think and reply to my own questions.
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