To be a writer is to be a dissatisfied reader of your own prose. If you write a first draft and think, “Wow, that's great,” the unfortunate truth is that you're wrong. I know your first draft isn't great. I've read enough first drafts that I can promise you this. Worse news: If you can't see the problems in your draft, you can't fix them.
Showing posts with label Daniel Griffin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daniel Griffin. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Daniel Griffin sends us writing advice.
If your writing strikes you as crappy, you're on the right track.
Publishing in literary magazines is a slow business. It can be a year or more after I've finished a story before I see it in print. I remember the day the second story I ever published landed on my doorstep in a copy of The Massachusetts Review. I hadn't read the story in over a year, but the moment I looked at the first page, I knew they'd made a mistake with the opening. The first three sentences were clunky, and I was sure that they weren't the way I'd set them. I booted my computer to figure out exactly what they'd changed, but when I opened the file, it turned out The Massachusetts Review had printed exactly what I'd written.
Like most writers, it's always the problems in my writing that leap out at me. In everything I've written--early draft, late draft, “finished” product--I can quickly find something I'd like to change. Before public readings of my new book Stopping for Strangers, I still go through the story I'm about to read and pencil in changes.
If you've ever looked at your writing and seen nothing but problems, I'm here to tell you it's a good thing: you're on the right track.
To be a writer is to be a dissatisfied reader of your own prose. If you write a first draft and think, “Wow, that's great,” the unfortunate truth is that you're wrong. I know your first draft isn't great. I've read enough first drafts that I can promise you this. Worse news: If you can't see the problems in your draft, you can't fix them.
To be a writer is to be a dissatisfied reader of your own prose. If you write a first draft and think, “Wow, that's great,” the unfortunate truth is that you're wrong. I know your first draft isn't great. I've read enough first drafts that I can promise you this. Worse news: If you can't see the problems in your draft, you can't fix them.
On the other hand, if you print off your story, read it and groan and squirm at all the mistakes realizing it's crap, that's fantastic. Once you can see it's crap, you can start to improve it. If a sentence confuses or annoys you, fix it. You might read it a week later and realize the fixed sentence is still awkward, but that's okay. Fix it again.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Stopping for Strangers by Daniel Griffin
Daniel Griffin
What a nice gift, a book of short stories for a short story lover. Daniel Griffin is a new talent and one to watch. He has set his writing pulse in synch with family life and produced insightful stories that zing on the page.
Some of the stories have appeared in my favourite Can Lit mags such as Prairie Fire and the New Quarterly.
In the first story Promise, Doug goes to visit his brother who is freaking out because his wife left him. We soon realize a dangerous situation is brewing and the volatile brother is capable of anything. This story held me glued to the page. The dialogue sizzles with menace and innuendo. Every remark holds a hidden barb relating to family bitterness and failure.
Several stories stood out for me including "Martin and Lisa" where the dialogue at a family party hums a dysfunctional tune. Tangled family rivalries emerge in the powerful story, "The Last Great Works of Alvin Cale," when an artist father confronts the works of his dying artist son.
Griffin's prose is spare and sharp. I was not surprised to learn that he has been compared to Raymond Carver.
Stopping for Strangers is available on line at Chapters and Amazon and should be available at the local Chapters soon.
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