I never took a writing class. I had no aspirations of becoming a writer. But one day, I started playing with an idea that had been buzzing in my head. (I ran out of room on my walls for needlepoint), and found a new creative outlet. And challenge. At a writing conference, a fellow attendee asked me if I'd speak to her book club, and I agreed. After my little talk about, one person came up to me and said, "I read your book, and you sound just like that when you talk." That, I realized, was my 'voice.'
Conversely, almost every time I've done a fiction reading (in the US) where the narration is first person, people assume it's me. And they're wrong. :-)
Reminds me of the time when I had my first short story published in the brand new Wild Rose Press. I was on good terms with all the clerks at the post office, both from mailing manuscripts and because my day job had me there a lot. One clerk said she'd read my short story and "I'll never be able to think of you the same way again."
LOL. People have asked to rent a cottage I don't own, have wondered about the uncle I never had and so on.... I guess it's compliment--they feel it's real.
I remember Chapter 42 and that scene, and I still marvel at how deeply James understood his characters. I found my voice in what I regarded as little stories, quiet tales of subtle change that I wondered if anyone but me would like. And I wasn't even sure why I liked them. You make two good points here--finding your voice but also finding your material. That's also hard but it feels like magic when it happens. Another good post.
That's funny. I felt sorry for the lit people who seemed limited in their interests and reading, like the one who asked me who my favorite Henry James critic was. Or someone in my PhD program he said he *only* read Gerard Manley Hopkins.
Of course, there were some goofballs in the MFA program like the druggies or people who were not widely read even though they wanted to be writers. One proudly told me he didn't read anyone before Kerouac: "Why bother?"
The goofball in my writing program was this young guy who eviscerated every single story that went up for workshop—but he never submitted a story of his own for discussion. Needless to say, he was booted out of the program after two semesters.
One goofball had a two-page scene of a woman on the toilet and when the professor asked why, he said "I want to show how she was brutalized--" and the professor finished "--so you brutalized us?"
This same professor, when the guy read aloud a line like "He arrived in his personal limousine," quipped "So much better than an impersonal limousine!"
I never took a writing class. I had no aspirations of becoming a writer. But one day, I started playing with an idea that had been buzzing in my head. (I ran out of room on my walls for needlepoint), and found a new creative outlet. And challenge. At a writing conference, a fellow attendee asked me if I'd speak to her book club, and I agreed. After my little talk about, one person came up to me and said, "I read your book, and you sound just like that when you talk." That, I realized, was my 'voice.'
Great story.
Conversely, almost every time I've done a fiction reading (in the US) where the narration is first person, people assume it's me. And they're wrong. :-)
Reminds me of the time when I had my first short story published in the brand new Wild Rose Press. I was on good terms with all the clerks at the post office, both from mailing manuscripts and because my day job had me there a lot. One clerk said she'd read my short story and "I'll never be able to think of you the same way again."
LOL. People have asked to rent a cottage I don't own, have wondered about the uncle I never had and so on.... I guess it's compliment--they feel it's real.
That drives me crazy! It's such a basic false assumption.
I remember Chapter 42 and that scene, and I still marvel at how deeply James understood his characters. I found my voice in what I regarded as little stories, quiet tales of subtle change that I wondered if anyone but me would like. And I wasn't even sure why I liked them. You make two good points here--finding your voice but also finding your material. That's also hard but it feels like magic when it happens. Another good post.
Thanks. I have been enjoying James since I read Washington Square (on my own) in junior high school.
I love quiet stories of subtle change. The drama can actually be enormous.
Thanks Lev is there still a split between the lit majors and writing majors? (I was lit.) We didn't like them, and they didn't like us : )
I didn't experience it in my MFA program which was 50% lit classes. But then I was very literate. :-)
There was that split when I was in grad school. We fiction writers and poets were viewed by the lit people pretty much as idiot savants.
That's funny. I felt sorry for the lit people who seemed limited in their interests and reading, like the one who asked me who my favorite Henry James critic was. Or someone in my PhD program he said he *only* read Gerard Manley Hopkins.
Of course, there were some goofballs in the MFA program like the druggies or people who were not widely read even though they wanted to be writers. One proudly told me he didn't read anyone before Kerouac: "Why bother?"
The goofball in my writing program was this young guy who eviscerated every single story that went up for workshop—but he never submitted a story of his own for discussion. Needless to say, he was booted out of the program after two semesters.
Justly so.
One goofball had a two-page scene of a woman on the toilet and when the professor asked why, he said "I want to show how she was brutalized--" and the professor finished "--so you brutalized us?"
This same professor, when the guy read aloud a line like "He arrived in his personal limousine," quipped "So much better than an impersonal limousine!"
Oh, dear . . . .
Im enclosing two Jewish memory stories. Also, since you work with international writer, my own global reading lists,