Scott Lax

 

There's an expression that's bandied about at writing classes and other literary gatherings. It's this: "Murder your darlings." It's often misunderstood and misquoted (its bogus variations are many and often funny), but that's the quotation, according to The Paris Review's THE WRITER'S CHAPBOOK.

The author of that quote is G.K.Chesterton. Here's what it means to me: the parts of your writing that you fall in love with are the very same things you might want to sleep on, or consider for a longer while, before you leave them in. They're often overly emotional, or sentimental, or clever, or snarky words; or any number of things that don't serve the writing, the story. You may be over-explaining in a way that you think is elegant and brilliant, but that bogs down the story and insults the reader's intelligence by essentially providing an intellectual spoiler -- by telling your reader what to think.

If you write a sentence that you think is brilliant or witty or wise, but it doesn't serve the story, cut it...murder it, in other words. You can always save your darling on the shelf, in a computer file, or a notebook or stack of scrap paper. But get rid of it in your creative writing.

So there you go. The answer to one of the most misunderstood quotations in English literature. It doesn't refer to killing off characters, or any other weird interpretations. It's simply looking at that in your writing that you have fallen in love with, and asking yourself if it really needs to be there, or if you just like the sound of it. Or worse, if you're showing off, for any reason: your knowledge, your wit, your unique perspective.

Since I bash Twitter on a regular basis, I'll relate it to Twitter: Ninety-eight percent of what is on Twitter is "darling" writing. It ought to be cut, or never published, or relegated to one's diary, where it can rest comfortably, away from the eyes of an increasingly illiterate and overly-accepting reading public. "I had eight big fatty pieces of bacon today!" isn't literature; it's bad writing. And bad eating.  Read More 

This quote reminds me of writers that do more twittering than actual writing: "Desperate writers, who once by their cries of agony wrung tears from tender-hearted readers, come to prefer the glittering smiles of hostesses as hard as their marble mantelpieces." - Logan Pearsall Smith. (1865 – 1946)

I'll paraphrase, with apologies to the late Mr. Smith: "Desperate writers, who once by their cries of agony wrung tears from tender-hearted readers, come to prefer the sycophantic re-tweets of readers of their tweets, whose own tweets are as substantive as the ether through which they travel."

I'm talking about serious creative writers here, not those who use Twitter for marketing or promotion or fun. That's all well and good. Serious creative writers, though, are wasting their brain cells on twittering to readers that simply want to be that hostess with the glittering smile, that simply want to think they are connected to creativity, without actually producing anything.  Read More 

Today's New York Times asks the question, in an article called, "Naive Reading": Have critical theory and the use of the sciences in the study of literature gone too far?

The answer is, "Yes."

Academia feeds upon itself, particularly in the area of literature. It's self-involved, self-important, and self-sustaining. It produces too many untalented writers through MFA programs; it often encourages "close reading" and analyzing of texts that are far beyond what the author intended or cared about.

But it does give people tenure, and a salary with benefits, and it perpetuates itself, like some kind of ubiquitous mold.

There are a few great writers in academia. Most are outside of it. Beware the frustrated literature or writing professor. If you want to write, read writing you love and try to grasp what the author is doing and then write and write and write some more.

If you want to understand literature, read it. And ask your head, and equally, your heart, what is says to you.  Read More 

I'm on assignment now to write a document for a very large, international institution, one that is dedicated to peace and justice. (I don't divulge private clients of this sort, so that will have to do.)

What being a freelance writer may lack in job security, it sometimes makes up for in finding and writing about noble and important people and entities. Sometimes, words we write, often in collaboration with great minds and good people, as I am doing now, can even makes a difference in thousands of lives, if not more.

If you're a writer, maybe that's some small comfort. Words have changed literature and education, of course, but also religion, justice movements, history. Once in a while, as writers, we can be a small part of that. And sometimes that is enough.  Read More 

Truman Capote said to the "Paris Review," "What I am trying to achieve is a voice sitting by a fireplace telling you a story on a winter’s evening." I may have quoted this before, but I think it bears repeating.

When you tell a story, pretend you're with people you care about. You want to impart to them the story that it's your heart, the story you need to tell. Let the words come out naturally. Forget about style, and even craft (at least on the first draft), and all the junk you learned in your writing class, be that in high school (likely freighted with the desire to please your unpublished teacher), or in college - even in an MFA program, where you're pressured to sound like so many others.

Tell your story in your own voice. Learn grammar and style and usage and then fix it up and let it fly. It's your story; don't let it be sunk by literary fashions. Capote knew this; that's why he was one of the greats, however screwed up and inconsistent he could be. The cat knew how to write.  Read More 

Let's say you sit in front of your laptop day after day and can't seem to find the words for a story. If so, I have a suggestion.

We're carbon-based life forms. So are pens and pencils and papers. If you need to connect, or reconnect to the act of writing, pick up a pen or pencil and write something in a notebook or on a scrap of paper or stationary or something.

As writers - if we are physically able - we need to connect our bodies to the page on occasion. There's something special about the act of writing. Your brain fires up an idea. It travels through you. It comes out of your hand and into your pen and onto the paper. It's physical. It's what our ancestors did.

Computers are wonderful; they've changed the world. But don't lose sight - or feel - of what it means to write. To really write. If you haven't done it in a while, see how it feels. See what comes out of you. See how it looks on the page, how personal, how unique, how non-crashable and unhackable it is. It's not logged permanently in a cloud of ether. It's for you, or someone special, or posterity. You can even tear it up and make it go away if you decide you don't like it anymore.

I write in a notebook. Though I write fiction and nonfiction and blogs and emails on a computer, and am grateful to be able to do as much, I connect - every day - to pen and paper. For me, it's as important as connecting to nature. My primary exercise is walking, and a large part of that is connecting to the sky, the air, the sun, the movement of the trees, the sound of the birds. it's a part of my day that connects me physically to life; so is writing - pen to paper.  Read More 

I try not to get into politics or sociology or the like on this blog, but when you write, you observe, and when you observe, you have a point of view.

One point of view with which I agree is that of Toni Morrison, who said:

"Everywhere, everywhere, children are the scorned people of the earth."

Politically, socially, in terms of religion and our overall actions, wouldn't it be wonderful if the first and most important question we (by that I mean all humans, not just Americans) answered, be it about health care or economic policy or war, was: "How will this affect children, most especially those who have the least?"  Read More 

Right after the terrible events of September 11, 2001, The New Yorker published a poem on its back page. It's become one of my favorite poems. I've read about its origins (it wasn't written for 9-11, but, such is art, it fit the moment). I reprint it here with gratitude to the Polish poet, Adam Zagajewski, as well as The New Yorker for printing it. I use this poem in my classroom frequently, as a way of showing power of writing, of poetry, to find beauty and meaning in the world even in the face of the worst circumstances.

Try To Praise The Mutilated World

By Adam Zagajewski

Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June's long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You've seen the refugees heading nowhere,
you've heard the executioners sing joyfully.
You should praise the mutilated world.
Remember the moments when we were together
in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
and leaves eddied over the earth's scars.
Praise the mutilated world
and the grey feather a thrush lost,
and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
and returns.

Translated by Renata Gorczynski  Read More 

Jonathan Franzen has written what many are calling a great novel: FREEDOM. I haven't read it, so I can't comment on the work itself, but I can say that Franzen acts like a writer, by all accounts.

And I like that. A lot.

What I mean is that he isn't primarily a self-marketeer; he isn't a novelist that tries to figure out what will sell and what the trends are. From everything I've read about him, it seems he is a man who loves language and how people use it and how they relate to one another with it; and then he translates that to fiction, which is, for many of us, as important and true as anything that's actually happened. Fiction goes to the heart of life.

I hope Franzen's passion for writing literary fiction makes an impact on readers in the same way as Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, Scott Fitzgerald, Toni Morrison, Phillip Roth, Sherman Alexie and Tim O'Brien have made. We need stories about love and family and everyday life, not just about vampires.

Literary fiction is to writing what organic food from the farmer's market is to your dinner plate. I hope that Franzen is one of the new breed of chefs.

I'll be back with how the dinner tasted soon; in the meantime, I applaud Jonathan Franzen for keeping the faith.  Read More 

The controversy over the (now cancelled) Qur'an burning was yet another unfortunate and backward incident in the sad history of American anti-intellectualism and fear-mongering.

Book burning is never good. It's a sign of intellectual weakness and moral fear. I'm glad it was cancelled, but disgusted that it was ever considered. Hitler and his ilk burned books, which is simply one step beyond banning them. Banning books still goes on throughout America to this day.

For anyone who ever considered burning a book, I suggest reading it instead. Or giving it away.

Don't these book burners get it? This is what radical fundamentalists want: attention. What do they think terrorism is? It's not only about killing; it's about getting attention from the survivors. Moderate Christians and Muslims get it. So do all who follow a path of tolerance and moderation.

Speaking of religion, Happy New Year -- Rosh Hashanah -- to Jews world-wide. May this year bring us peace in the world. May all people live in harmony.  Read More