Writings of Stefon Mears

I have very little experience with creative nonfiction.  Now that I have that alarmingly inaccurate sentence down, let me explain it.  I’ve read many books over the years that would be filed under creative nonfiction, if I organized my personal library that way.  Of course, I barely organize my personal library in the first place, so there’s little danger of that happening.

For that matter, I’ve written a respectable amount of creative nonfiction, in that I keep this blog on as regular a basis as I can (and I’ll be steadier once the semester begins, but I may take a break for the residency), I post intermittently in a private LiveJournal account, and spill thoughts and memories all over perfectly innocent paper on a purely random basis.

I have even taken an undergraduate level class through the U.C. Berkeley Extension, and enjoyed it a great deal.  Still, I feel as though I have very little experience with creative nonfiction, because I’ve read very little of it from the perspective of a writer.

Well, the new semester hasn’t started yet, but I can already feel that changing.  I’ve started on my reading assignments, and I noticed that all three of the selections in my Craft of Creative Nonfiction class had a common element: each told multiple stories that all related to an event-driven common theme.  For example, in only one chapter of Passage to Juneau I’ve learned more about commercial fishing, the Alaskan fishing run, its risks, the fishing community, and the American Indians native to the region (and their art) than I ever knew before*, and all of it related to the author fitting out his boat for a voyage.

Up until now, I had thought about writing essays and the like in terms of framing a given story, often with a goal of conveying a related idea, but it seems to me now that this showed me only the surface of what it should be doing, or at least what it could be doing.

I can’t say this surprises me, since I know that a given work of fiction will certainly contain more than a single story, but it is interesting to see what the other side of the coin looks like.

Hmm, if fiction and nonfiction are different sides of the same coin, where does that leave poetry?  On the edge, of course, binding the two together with its approach to expression.

*which, admittedly, was very little

Last night, arriving home from work, I knew exactly what I would be doing: meeting a friend before dinner, eating dinner with my wife, followed by a plan for the night’s activities (this much reading, that much time on the computer, et cetera).  It seemed reasonable until, following dinner, my wife wanted to flop on the couch to read, and this just looked like the most appealing thought of the day.

I realized in that moment that I had carried over my regimented scheduling practice past the semester and into what was supposed to be my vacation.  I had needed this level of organization to get through my studies, work and Capoeira, but now I had taken to viewing even my leisure activities in terms of getting as much done as possible.  I had to let go of that, and the first step was flopping on that couch with my wife and reading a novel I enjoyed, not because of any technical brilliance in it (I like the author, but this was his first book and it shows) but because I like the characters and story.

This was the first time since last December that I had been able to just read fiction – my previous attempts had been mired in constant analysis.  I did take a moment to consider the craft of the story, just to reassure myself that I could, then relaxed and enjoyed myself.

I’m not reading quite the way I used to; even without the near-dissection I find myself noting devices, techniques, and elements I had missed previously as well as how they are related.  My perspective has shifted, and I like it – I think it makes me a better reader as well as a better writer, because I can appreciate a story on more levels.

So long as I remember to slow down and enjoy reading instead of just appreciating it. . . .

I’m still restricting myself to a few hundred words of freewriting every day or two while my hand heals, but I really like the results I’m getting.  I’ve been starting with the first image I can call to mind and then telling a story about it, and if I don’t like it I just let it change directions.  So far I have several snippets that could be developed into good short stories, and one or two that might be deep enough for a novel.

I think by next week I’ll let myself start some revision, as long as I can keep the typing in check.  Oh, and I may start drafting new material by playing with voice recognition software.  I doubt I could use it for real revision, but it should be fine for a first draft, as well as holding back my typing a little longer.

I’ve just been informed that my short short story “Shooting Free Throws” has been selected to appear in the fall issue of Soundings Literary Journal.

Obviously I’m pretty excited about this, and it gives me even more hope for the two or three submissions I have out in the world right now, as well as the one going out next week.  They’re taking it without any changes, though I’ll get to look at the proof and make sure everything came out right (error-checking, not revision).

I want to sit and write something right now, but I’m on an enforced time out for another week or two.  It seems I have managed to get tendinitis in my left hand.  Strangely enough, it’s probably not from writing — suspects are Capoeira and bad reading form* ahead of typing,  though it may have been a combination of all three — but I still don’t want to overstress it.  I’m limiting myself to a few minutes of freewriting a day, plus short e-mails and whatever work requires.  Speaking of which, I should probably call the entry to a close here.

*Note to returning students, be careful how you hold your books when studying.  This may sound obvious, but when you’re mentally involved in what you’re reading, you might not always notice little warnings from the body until they become big warnings.  Especially to be avoided is holding a large book in one hand for more than an hour a day for many days in a row.  Oh, and for these purposes, anything larger than a medium-width mass market paperback should be considered large, even thick paperbacks and trade paperbacks.

Well, despite the sense of motivation I feel, I must say that my initial reaction on hitting my first real break has been to do nothing more complicated than relax and play.  I’ve taken a solid week off from anything very productive, and am considering continuing this way through Memorial Day, to make sure my perspective is fresh on return.

But the itch is there.  I may compromise and allow myself ten or fifteen minutes of freewriting a day, just to give myself the creative output without adding any requirements.  Soon, though, I will return to actual writing projects.

Not that I’ve been entirely inactive – I’ve submitted a short story to the LA Review and another to Soundings, and am heavily considering giving two more pieces a light once-over: one for a writing contest that only runs through the end of this month and the other for a major fantasy magazine (wish me luck!).

On the MFA front, now that my assignments are finished I have one more duty to my classes: evaluations.  I’ve never evaluated a class or professor before, so I m relying on my old standard approach: be honest and hope for the best.  In some ways, this will be very easy because I have had a fantastic time in these classes and I’ve learned a great deal, so I have many good things to say.  The downside is that I’m having trouble finding much to point out in the way of weaknesses and recommendations.

I’ve heard a couple of people wonder about the anonymity of these evaluations, but to me it seems like a silly question.  I’ve just spent six months with these people in classes of three and five students, talking casually and frequently in our online discussions – how could they possibly not know who will have which opinions?  To my, the question of anonymity misses the point.  The point is to provide us an opportunity to let them know three things: how much we got out of the class, what worked well for us, and what did not.  There rest is a matter of details.

Speaking of evaluations, I’ll be getting my own grades in the next week or two.  I think I did well in these classes, so I should come through all right.

This is getting a bit longer than I expected, so I’ll save talking about planning for the fall semester for my next post.  Sorry this one was late.  I blame it on post-semester indolence.

Time management becomes a trick in a low-residency program.  At the beginning of the semester I looked at my activities and wondered what would survive contact with my MFA program.  This is how it has played out, to date:

• Work:  Work continues unabated, which is important to maintaining the style of life to which I have become accustomed: fed, clothed, housed and able to cover bills.  I have snuck in a few minutes of homework here and there when things are slow, but no one seems to mind.
• Capoeira:  I’ve been able to keep up my schedule for both training and teaching, but I have gotten hurt a couple of times (right now I’m benched with a hand that is most likely sprained).  I suspect I’m not doing enough stretching on the off days.
• Gaming: I’ve continued running my once-a-month D&D campaign, and playing in two other once-a-month games.  4^th Edition has made this much easier for me, because the mechanics of preparing for the game take much less time than in previous editions.
• Other social gatherings:  Do occasional e-mails and text messages count?  I’d say this is the area that suffered the most cutbacks.  In the last few months I’ve been able to make it to a Rock Band gathering – my first – but that’s it.  Fortunately my wife and I have still found time each other.

All of these changes and considerations are, of course, to accommodate my class work.  I’m glad I love what I’m studying, because low-residency or not this is a real graduate program, complete with attendant workload.  I’ve done a pretty good job of maintaining my focus and getting as much out of each assignment as possible, but that may be one of the advantages of returning to school after working for several years: I know how to motivate myself.

I haven’t been perfect though.  I’m sure I could have read some of my assigned reading more closely.  I think I’ve made up for that a bit by working even harder on the assignments: everything I’ve turned in since the residency has been either completely new writing or a substantial revision of an existing piece, revised for that assignment.

My personal writing time has shrunk considerably.  I tried to fit it in early in the semester, but found I was getting too exhausted mentally to continue work on anything substantial.  I’ve fit in some time for flash fiction and short story writing, but I’ve held off working on the novel until the summer break.

This is actually as much for the good of the novel-in-progress as anything else.  I’ve been deep in the study of the craft of fiction, examining every tool in the writer’s toolbox from as many angles as possible.  It’s fantastic, but it also has me constantly re-thinking what I’ve written in light of this week’s topics.  This is great for my writing, but not conducive to working on a long form project.  Better to wait until the semester is over and I’ve had a chance to assimilate what I’ve learned.

I haven’t been idle though.  Here’s an example of how I am applying my studies so far.  Two years ago I wrote a short story that I liked.  I looked at it six months ago and knew something was wrong with it, but could not figure out what.  One month ago I reread it, saw why it didn’t work, and knew how to fix it.  My rewrite was well-received by my workshop group, and from their comments I can see one or two little things to change that would make it even better.  One more revision and I’ll see what I can do about getting it published.