Try doing a homophonic translation of a poem or a page of prose. To do this, you need a poem or piece of prose in a language you don’t understand. Then, “translate” each line or sentence based roughly on the sound or sight of the words. For example, I turned Rilke’s line “Wer hat uns also umgedreht, da wir” into “Where has the sun also grumbled?” The idea here is to engage with language in a way that is not logical in a linear sense. This exercise often produces marvelous word combinations and interesting story/character ideas.

Post by Jen Currin, TWS poetry mentor.

Photo from Wikimedia Commons.

Cultural critics Pauline Butling and Susan Rudy suggest that literary communities are equal to scientists’ laboratories: readings, performances, workshops, festivals and conferences are all “sites of research”–spaces where writers “can work together to explore new ideas and forms, assert new subject formations, and investigate alternative histories” (Writing in Our Time, 33).

The poet bpNichol similarly referred to his writing itself as “research”–and his performance in the sound-poetry group The Four Horsemen provides an example of how the public reading can be a site of radical formal investigation.

Post by Wayde Compton, Director of The Writer’s Studio.

Video courtesy of YouTube.

The Southbank Writer’s Program in Surrey has been underway for 3 weeks now and we’ve been picking up some writing germs along the way.

Instructor Nancy Lee taught us that great writers are born, for the most part, of thousands of hours of writing practice rather than a God-given talent. She helped us to see that by worrying less about perfection and getting it right the first time, that our best writing comes from exploring our imaginations freely on the page.

Lois Peterson introduced the concept of ‘germs’ to us. Germs are those ideas for a writing piece that come to us when we’re driving down the highway, sleeping in our beds, reading the newspaper, or when we overhear a conversation. The trick is to make a note of these germs as soon as we think of them and then to spend some time watering and feeding them until they are ready to grow. “Don’t judge a germ”, Lois says, “just record it and start asking questions about it.” Don’t write until you are ready. You should feel so pregnant with the story that you will burst; that’s the time to begin writing.

Poet Jami Macarty showed us to look for the germ of a poem through a writing exercise than began with a most unlikely seed: cataloging the start of our day in reverse order. Simple sentences came out of the exercise, such as,”grab keys from counter,” “get up and feed the cats.” But once we focused on those words, sounds, images and letters that meant something to us, we began to find the germ to a poem and the unexplored seeds that lay dormant inside us.

We’re looking forward to some great insights from Jami this week before we journey into the world of non-fiction with Bryan Payton this weekend.

Post by Claire De Boer —Mentor, Southbank Writer’s Program

Claire De Boer is a fiction writer and graduate of both The Writer’s Studio and the London School of Journalism. She is the Wellness Editor and regular contributor for SheLoves Magazine and also provides professional writing services.

Creative commons image courtesy of flickr.com.

There are basically two types of writers, the “first draft or bust” type, or the “perfected page” writer.

The first barges to the end of a draft without stopping to change much, producing a first draft that may be crude, sketchy or a complete mess.  Now her work begins.

For the ”perfected page” writer the language often propels the story as much as the plot.  This writer revises the preceding day’s work before moving on, digging out unexpected leads, images, implications, producing a very polished first draft.

The reader, who is not privy to the first draft, never knows which type of writer wrote the book in hand, but the writer should have some self-awareness of his or her own process.

Post by Caroline Adderson, writer and instructor of Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, which starts on Tuesday, April 3rd at SFU Harbour Cenre, Vancouver. For more information about the course, or to register, click here.

Photo: Flickr

Good history is more than a list of past events–it is more than “one damned thing after another.” Good history is about answering questions, making meaning, and explaining how and why things happened. It is about the past, but also about the present.

Ultimately, history is about understanding the human condition. If we consider a range of sources and perspectives, decide what the evidence means, add some context, and argue for a point of view, we can tell a truly meaningful story about the past. We may even convince readers to accept our views!

Don’t be surprised, however, if your own opinions change during the research and writing process.

Submitted by Eric Damer, educational historian, writer, and instructor of Writing Local History. For more about him, see http://ericdamer.wordpress.com.

Writing Local History runs March 10 to March 31, 2012 at SFU Harbour Centre. To register, or for more information, click here.

Photo (Hastings Sawmill School, 1886) courtesy of  City of Vancouver Archives.

Many good writers have discovered that selection is an important part of writing. Here is a sample of aphorisms that have guided great writing.

“Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.” — William Morris, “The Beauty of Life” (1880 lecture)

“Pull out from the depths those thoughts that you do not understand, and spread them out in the sunlight and know the meaning of them.” — E.M. Forster, A Room with a View

“I don’t mind lying, but I hate inaccuracy.” — Samuel Butler

Post by Richard Mackie, instructor of “Finding the Narrative Thread: Focus and Selection in an Era of Information”, beginning this Wednesday, November 30th, 6:30-9:00pm. His course explores how to recognize the main themes in an unruly body of material and connect them to a pertinent and unifying narrative thread. Seats are still available; register here.

Photo by Adam Jones: adamjones.freeservers.com.

Just as the body cannot survive without breath for more than a few minutes, the poem cannot thrive without silent spaces. Silent spaces signal the reader how to interpret the poem’s meaning. Silent spaces also hold the poem’s deeper story. Consider and investigate the silent spaces in your poem as much as the written spaces. Risk the surprise of the poem’s secrets; its unleashed power!

Post by Betsy Warland, director of The Writer’s Studio. Her class “The Poem’s Story and Silence” begins Monday, November 14th. Seats are still available. Register here.

Image courtesy of http://www.wpclipart.com.

Want to get published, but don’t know where to start? Here are four great tips:

1. Know what you’re offering.
   Write a 200-word summary of your work: genre, length, storyline, intended audience, tone/voice, unique qualities, your qualifications to write it.
2. Know who you’re writing for.
   Who needs to read your work? Imagine that person: age, gender, occupation, interests, values, concerns.
3. Talk to them.
   Keep a blog, show up on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, get a radio gig. . . Tell your audience what you’re reading, dreaming, wrestling with.
4. Hang around.
   Go to readings and launches, volunteer at festivals, join a writers’ group or association. Publishing people do business with people they know, and writers and publishers are great to hang around with anyway.

Post by Mary Schendlinger, an instructor with SFU’s Writing and Communications program. Her class, Getting Published, runs every fall.

Photo by Soft Solutions, Wikimedia Commons

Michelangelo thought of his sculptures as already existing within blocks of marble. It was his role to liberate them by chiseling them out.

Language is the poet’s stone. Here’s an exercise:

Take two very different poems from different poets and combine every other word.

What inevitably results is an incomprehensible block of language that is filled with interesting word combinations and, quite often, startling images.

Now your job, as creator, is to pare it away, erasing words until you arrive at something new.

You could also repeat this exercise using words from anywhere: your poems, manuals, newspapers, and textbooks.

Post by Jami Macarty, an instructor with SFU’s Writing and Communications program. Her class, The Poem’s Intention, begins October 17. Register here.

Photo by David Gaya, Wikimedia Commons.

Are you having trouble “seeing” your character clearly? If so, then chances are, so will your readers.

If you’re struggling to understand one of your characters (main character or minor character), try setting the story aside and making a short list of what the character wants.

No matter how large or small a character’s role is in the narrative (nonfiction or fiction), he or she must WANT something—even if it’s only to cross the street. Clearly define for yourself what a character wants, and you will have a better understanding of how to write that character into your narrative.

Post by Brian Payton, a mentor with The Writer’s Studio.