This week I met with students at the Little River Community School in Canton, NY to discuss my as yet unpublished manuscript, Lucky, and talk about writing. The young writers had many questions and they each shared something about the kind of writing they are doing.
Some of the questions were about plot elements, some about my process of writing the book. One student asked about my take on the meaning of the book, another asked how I went about writing descriptions.
In answering that last question, I talked about the items Christopher found and explained that I used small things I own and am really fond of – it was fun to write about them. I began to rummage in my backpack to take out a couple I’d brought with me. Some of the students said they hoped I’d brought the turtle, and I had. The turtle, which is a metal ‘frog’ – a device meant to sit inside a vase and keep the flower stems in place – was well received. Here’s the description in the book (Nursie, by the way, is a dog):
Christopher sat back on his heels to examine it. Nursie sniffed the object, then nuzzled the boy. “Yeah, check it out,” he whispered to the dog. It was a metal turtle. It didn’t weigh much. Resting in his hand, it almost covered his palm. The turtle’s front legs and arched head fit between his fingers, one back leg rested between thumb and finger and its curved tail and other back leg nestled against his palm. The turtle’s shell had a shallow pattern of pentagons that looked like chicken wire. In the middle there was a hole he could fit the tip of his pinky finger into, and around it circled eight more holes. The metal was sturdy, but the inside of the turtle was hollow. He turned it over. This side had the same set of holes, but no pattern of lines. Christopher ran his thumb along the edge between the turtle’s domed shell and its convex belly. It was smooth, he couldn’t feel a seam. When he held the turtle up towards the light of the window, he could see that the holes almost lined up. He smiled. His friends would probably laugh at him, but he liked it.
The questions and my replies worked their way around the room. When it was B.W.’s turn, he slid a sketch across the table. B.W. said he liked to doodle. I am a big fan of doodling, myself, and of course was super pleased to see this sketch. Here it is alongside the turtle, Frog –
Frog is a turtle with an attitude, and I think B.W.’s sketch captures that perfectly. As I was gathering things up to go, a couple of writers told me they had imagined a painted turtle when they read this scene, a colorful rather than monochrome one. That made me think back to my answer about writing descriptions: I described starting from scratch to build an image and then trying to go back to the viewpoint of the reader and seeing what image the words actually build. I see now that in my description of the turtle, I left off color entirely. I’ll need to ponder whether I want to clarify that in the book or not, but either way, their comments are great examples of why getting feedback from readers is so helpful. Writers can do a lot to see their work with “fresh eyes,” things like setting the work aside for awhile and coming back to it. But there’s nothing like a reader’s “new eyes” to reflect back to a writer what the text actually accomplishes.
I had one question for the students, about their reaction to Rachel, one of the characters in Lucky. Several of the writers gathered at the table really enjoyed her, and I’m glad I asked the question. Feedback I received from some readers in earlier drafts about Rachel was more tentative – maybe this latest feedback is an indication that I’ve built her role in a way that justifies the attention she gets (well, being Rachel, sort of demands).
Then the students spoke about their own writing – from work that might develop into a novel in stories, to game scenarios, to finally finishing a story (deadlines are the writers friend!), to sci-fi scripts and inspirations for topics.
We talked about writing as a stress-buster (that has certainly been my experience of it), and their recent experience trying their hand at flash fiction. Beyond its potential as a means to get across some of the most poignant aspects of being human, I find work on flash fiction to be a powerful tool to honing craft at the sentence level.
For me, the hour-long conversation was thoroughly enjoyable – to be part of writers talking about writing is something most writers value deeply. Those of us who make a home in a rural area are especially grateful for the chance to get together with other writers. My thanks to the students at Little River for sitting around a table to talk about my writing and theirs, and to Steve Molnar, Director of the school, for inviting me.
Some information about the Little River Community School: it is a democratic school serving 39 students, grades K-12, in a four-classroom schoolhouse, in Canton, NY. Here’s the link to the school’s website: http://littleriverschool.org/