Literary citizenship alive and well, Twit*er as ‘dead’ emoticon, and bonus Europe pics for playing along

We’re no longer tweeting, we’re xeeting—writer Amber Sparks might have coined that–and the literary landscape has changed, yet again. What used to provide a good social media home for the #writingcommunity now feels like a hut, maybe a hovel. The best writerly take I heard was from writer Anna Gazmarian (I think), who said the X logo that replaced the cute blue bird reminded her of some boutique hotel she couldn’t afford. I look at the new logo and can see nothing but the emoticon for “dead”: Xs for eyes. But so long as there are writers connecting, there will be a writing community. Really, the literary landscape is always changing, and one certainly can’t rely on a social media site for real connections (except for maybe this one).

I talk a lot about literary citizenship but don’t often talk about what it looks like in practice. It definitely has a lot to do with reading and reviewing the work of other writers, but that’s just the beginning. To be clear, it has little to do with getting an MFA, for that paper in a frame on my office wall has played no part in most of the connections I’ve made in the writing community. So, a few on-the-ground examples:

Not long ago, I braved the open-mic at one of my favorite literary conferences and read a prose poem I was working on, called “Jesus, My Son’s Buckteeth.” (Clearly I’m staking out the fertile publishing ground of: Is she religious or just ignorantly blasphemous? Let’s just keep them guessing.) The poem needed a little work but it was getting somewhere interesting, capturing a complicated mother-love characterized now by running the kids to ortho appointments and no longer by rocking them to sleep. After the open-mic, a writer friend who is also an editor of a wonderful poetry journal said I might consider submitting it. I re-worked the poem, with the help of my trusted writing group, sent it off, and crossed my fingers. It was accepted–but this isn’t where the story of literary citizenship stops. I made sure to attend the online issue launch, and as I scanned all the names and faces in Zoom boxes, I recognized the name of one of my undergraduate writing teachers, who is also a poet. I used the chat function to say hi, and she remembered me, 20+ years on!

Sometimes it’s about saying hi to someone who may or may not remember you. Sometimes it’s saying yes to the the next generation of writers when you might rather be making Christmas cookies. OK, I’ll back up. A writer friend of a writer friend asked if I’d judge the 2022 AWP Intro Journals Project awards for creative nonfiction. When I could have been making cookies over my winter break, I was reading essays from MFA students, more than 60 of them: reading, re-reading, and picking my winners from so many admirable essays. But that wasn’t the end of the connecting. Long after the winning essays were published in university-run literary journals, one of the writers reached out. She was in the throes of preparing to turn in her thesis before graduation, but she wanted to take a moment to thank me for helping her feel like a writer with that award. I remembered her essay: it was excellent and showcased her journalism chops. I fact, she’d had a career before retiring and pursuing an MFA in creative writing–a time where you’re always a student no matter your age or experience. I told her I’d love to see an essay about just that, and I hope I do.

So, sometimes literary citizenship is leaving the door open for more, is encouraging personal history and story to be shared. Sometimes it’s just saying: you’re writing, I’m reading, and I’m so happy to be sharing this connection. Love a book? Tell the author.

And then there are so many more examples: the blogging friendships that started right here and have turned into real-life and writing-life friendships and critique groups and beta reading relationships. 

Like any deep relationship, cultivating literary relationships does take time. Being a good literary citizen requires that you know the writing world and its players. What time I once used to doom scroll on the bird site I hope to devote to this blog. In a few days, my boys and I leave for our summer break in Northern Ohio, and I have a stack of Rust Belt lit to bring with me. I hope to get back to you here with a couple reviews and an author interview this fall, so stay tuned. 

What are you reading and writing this week, this weekend? Want more stories from me, or author interviews, book reviews, guest posts, more? Follow me here:

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If you follow me at FB or IG (@MoonRuark), you’ve been inundated with photos from my European vacation in July. The most Rust Belt-ish place: Vigo, Spain–industrial, historical, and wonderful. A few pics for those who haven’t had enough (in order: Paris’ Eiffel Tower (of course), a pretty shop window, the D’Orsay Museum, and us sisters by the Seine; Barcelona hills and palm trees and basilica; Vigo’s cathedral; and a view of the Spanish countryside from Valenca, Portugal:

Lit Fest Lowdown: 2020 highlights

Last year’s festival dinner view.

This year has been (among other things) one giant exercise in imagining. Imagine this is a regular writing workshop. Imagine enjoying this poetry reading in an art gallery (instead of in your bathrobe). Imagine actual happy hour. But if we writers are good at anything, it’s imagining.

So, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that my favorite literary festival, the literary highlight of my year, the 2020 Fall Literary Festival hosted by Lit Youngstown (Ohio), was a great remote success. I was incredibly impressed at the quality of the craft workshops, readings, and community spirit–even from a few hundred miles away.

From the festival description, “This year’s conference [was] centered around the theme In Many Tongues, a conversation bringing together writing and publishing, literary inclusion, translating and translation…and the generational, political, ecological, and experimental elements that add to the wider literary conversation.” Whew!

If only I could have attended each and every session, heard each and every voice. But, there is only one of me, so I picked and chose from the many literary offerings. Here, I’m happy to provide highlights in the hopes I whet your appetite for next year’s festival–or a literary event in one of your favorite places in the world:

Jacqueline Marino, who edited two anthologies focused on the stories of Youngstown, Ohio, titled Car Bombs to Cookie Tables, taught a craft workshop, Write Your Rust Belt Story. You know I was there. The journalism professor and writer talked about crafting place in our stories, establishing voice, and finding the moment of connection in a piece. With a little free-writing, I started on a piece about my own Ohio hometown.

David Giffels was this year’s keynote speaker. In his talk, “Thank you Cleveland Good Night: How the reluctant writer becomes a performer,” Giffels shared his own personal story–from a shy, bookish kid to a newspaper columnist to the award-winning author and essayist–and spectacular storyteller–he is today. His latest book, Barnstorming Ohio: To Understand America is an on-the-ground look at Ohio and its people and place in American politics. For the first time, Giffels narrated his own audio book, and he related ideas of (actual) voice and (literary) voice. You write “the way you wish you could talk,” he said. And, as for writing about place, he recommended looking for what’s odd about your spot. Further, explore “a question you know you can’t answer.” (Oh, so many questions.)

Writer Quincy Flowers’ craft talk, On Polyphony: Writing a Novel and Making Meaning in Dialogue with Others discussed incorporating texts, including historical and para-texts, along with documents real and imagined, into our fiction. For this historical fiction writer, Flowers gave me a lot to think about, including, when does historical invention cross the line into untruth… and why haven’t I read more Percival Everett?

Dr. Ken Schneck, an author, editor, and professor of education, led a session called Shameless Self Promotion, which focused on helping us writers market our work–and ourselves–to build our audience for our books, journals, or even (ahem) blogs. Top takeaways: writers need a thing to market (not themselves) and a measurable goal; writers need to know who’s doing the kinds of writing we’re doing (our “comp” writers); and writers need not shy away from self promotion. Most helpful: Schneck’s discussion on the importance of our “elevator pitch.” You know, the succinct, pithy answer to “What do you do?” (I’ll share mine in the comments.) This talk also inspired me to update my About page at this blog–let me know what you think.

Fiction writer, playwright, and teacher Toni Thayer led a session called Finding your Voice in the Voices of Others, in which she urged us participants to carefully consider short pieces by “a diverse range of writers to fuel playful, creative imitation, with the end result of expanding one’s own style.” I studied a poem by Ohio poet Hanif Abdurraqib, in which music dictates the sound and the meaning of the piece–and applied some song to a WIP of my own. Refining your own voice through imitation is such great exercise!

Keynote speaker David Giffels talked shop in Relatively Speaking: Writing about Family in Personal Essays and Memoirs, and I’m happy to share some of the best tips for my writer friends here. What’s tough about writing about family, said Giffels, is we know too much. And also too little. Our own memory of an event is only the beginning. What comes next? Research. Interview family members to get their take; research events on YouTube; refresh your memory through photos and artifacts and by revisiting the place. But the bottom line in how NOT to get in trouble when writing about family, Giffels said: “empathy is everything.”

And there was so much more literary goodness over the 2+ day festival–even a happy hour.

Have you attended a literary festival or conference in this age of Zoom? What was the highlight? Any tips to share? Do you write about family on your blog or elsewhere? How do you avoid the pitfalls while telling your story? Do you have an elevator pitch at the ready, when people ask, what do you write about, what do you blog about?

Interested in Rust Belt author interviews, book reviews, essays, and more? Check out my categories, above. Are we social? Find me at FB and on Twitter and IG @MoonRuark

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