All posts tagged creative writing

  • March 28, 2009

    Fatal Distraction by Gene Weingarten

    From time to time, I read something so inspired, brilliant and motivating that it cleanly captures the honest, clean exposition to which I aspire.

    The latest piece is by Gene Weingarten on behalf of The Washington Post. It’s an 8,500 word story portraying those affected by infant hyperthermia; those parents who accidentally leave their children to die in hot cars. It is a harrowing work of staggering journalistic resourcefulness.

    It begins:

    The defendant was an immense man, well over 300 pounds, but in the gravity of his sorrow and shame he seemed larger still. He hunched forward in the sturdy wooden armchair that barely contained him, sobbing softly into tissue after tissue, a leg bouncing nervously under the table. In the first pew of spectators sat his wife, looking stricken, absently twisting her wedding band. The room was a sepulcher. Witnesses spoke softly of events so painful that many lost their composure. When a hospital emergency room nurse described how the defendant had behaved after the police first brought him in, she wept. He was virtually catatonic, she remembered, his eyes shut tight, rocking back and forth, locked away in some unfathomable private torment. He would not speak at all for the longest time, not until the nurse sank down beside him and held his hand. It was only then that the patient began to open up, and what he said was that he didn’t want any sedation, that he didn’t deserve a respite from pain, that he wanted to feel it all, and then to die.

    Full article here.

    Many thanks to Kathleen Noonan for her tip in the Saturday Courier-Mail‘s ETC liftout. Maybe I should seek out newspapers more often.

    No Comments / Writing /

  • March 17, 2009

    Hi, I’m Andrew

    I’ve been hesitant to press ‘publish’ of late.

    There’s so much bullshit flying around the whole marketing/social media fields that it’s temporarily killed my interest in both.

    Twitter has started to become more of a hindrance than a help, wherein the benefits of constantly monitoring my channel is increasingly outweighed by the cost. The Dunbar effect in action: following >150 people = discontent.

    But staring too deeply into the web’s bottomless pit can cause a loss of focus. It’s time to step back.

    My reality is this: I recently quit my job to focus on projects that interest me.

    I’m studying my final course toward a Bachelor of Communication. It’s a creative writing elective. It interests me greatly, as I’ve rarely dabbled in fiction or narrative writing.

    Incredibly, I look forward to class each week. Can’t say that I’ve felt excitement toward university very often as an undergraduate.

    This is the narrative introduction I used during the first creating writing tutorial:

    Andrew has stretched his three-year Bachelor of Communication into four years, in order to latch onto the Australian myth of tertiary education for as long as possible.

    This course was chosen as an elective because Andrew has always avoided writing fiction, but he has decided that 2009 is the year for trying new things.

    This yearning for new experiences is the reason why Andrew quit his first real job yesterday, and is also the reason why Andrew is travelling to Japan in June, although he does not know Japanese.

    Andrew is extremely fond of music and writes for two local publications – Rave and 4T – and one national website called FasterLouder.

    Andrew wrote and spoke this introduction in third person because he really likes the sound of his name.

    Such introductions are always interesting to write and speak, as one tries to find the balance between fact, humour, and appearing clever. Everyone wants to appear clever, always. Wit as a currency.

    2009_bioThis is the reason why my current bio [pictured right] makes me look like an asshole, although when I wrote it last year, I thought I was being clever.

    I’ve worked reasonably hard to keep this blog ‘clean’. Professional-like. I carefully consider everything that’s shared on here; whether it’s appropriate, whether it’ll reflect well on my character. Whether I’ll appear clever.

    I could trace this moderated perfectionism – which is perhaps dangerous and restrictive in itself – to the enormous amount of time I spent on video game message boards throughout my youth, effectively sharing my life with a bunch of strangers.

    Call it mature, call it neurotic, call it overly analytical. Or all three.

    The point is that since I want to be known as a writer, I need to improve my ability to articulate and share my thoughts.

    To this end, self-administered publishing filters aren’t very helpful.

    So I’m going to attempt to reduce their influence on my psychology.

    It’d be awesome if you could help me out, by calling me out on any unjustified or unclear bullshit.

    Hi, I’m Andrew.

    7 Comments / Writing /