Twenty Something Writers

J.D. Salinger is not someone who appears in the news often. He’s been a recluse for nearly 50 years. But, I clicked on CNN.com today to get my political fix, and the featured article was about a “rip-off” of The Catcher in the Rye that Salinger is contesting in court. You can read the full article here, but to give you a quick summary, a Swedish company is planning to publish a book called 60 Years Later: Coming Through the Rye, which is the story of Holden Caulfield 60 years after the events of The Catcher in the Rye.

Salinger has blocked all but one (a short story) adaptation of his work and he is quoted as saying in 1980 that “There’s no more to Holden Caulfield. Read the book again. It’s all there . . . Holden Caulfield is only a frozen moment in time.” Now at the age of 90, he is contesting this latest attempt to adapt The Catcher in the Rye.

This article raised many questions for me, so feel free to share any reactions. But, in this age of open source and creative commons, how do you feel about a writer preventing anyone from adapting his work? The question is not whether J.D. Salinger has the right to prevent such adaptations, but if something is lost by holding on so tightly to that intellectual property. As a student of philosophy, sharing ideas is important to me and I think that though you might take the risk of having your thoughts twisted or your work transformed into something you don’t approve of, opening your work up to others allows for many new creative possibilities. Though you might approve of what Salinger is doing as a personal choice, how do you feel about it generally?

One amazing thing about writing is that it attracts people of all kinds.  For instance, I love to write, but I also study theology and I’m obsessed with makeup.  So, tell us: Other than writing, what are some of your big aspirations? Let’s all get to know each other a bit better.

Credit for this question goes to Ellie from Peach Arrow.  Her answer is below.

For years I’ve been mulling over the idea of opening my own cafe & bakery. I think about this a lot actually. Ever since I was little I’ve loved baking. When I was little, I used to help my grandmother make biscuits in her kitchen. I’d stand on a chair watching as she rolled out the dough on the counter top. Then she’d hand me a small glass and tell me to press the glass down into the dough and rotate it. So I followed her instructions and voila, a perfectly round biscuit. From biscuits I moved onto cookies and eventually onto tiramisu. I still remember each Christmas sitting around in the kitchen with my sister, mixing and scooping out dough. These are some of my fondest memories.

I still have that love for baking. But I don’t know that I can actually achieve the goal of owning my own shop. I’ve talked this over with one of my roommates before, Amaris. I love her so much. She suggested that we open one together. But in her suggestion, she added a twist. Not just a bakery, but a cafe. I mean I can’t believe that I didn’t think of this beforehand. A bakery without coffee? No way. We planned out our responsibilities; I would bake the goods and she would make the coffee. I highly suspect that we’d both end up baking, but the point is that I’ve always loved that idea. I can see myself owning a little shop somewhere in a small town, serving homemade sweets to those who share my love of baked goods.

While I know that it may not happen, I still hold that as my one aspiration, one thing that I’ve always wanted to do.

This post was written by Ashley. It was originally published on her blog Writing to Reach You.

I love to read all varieties of fiction, but in my own writing, I strive for realism. No big mysteries, no magical worlds–just regular people doing pretty regular things. I try to put words in people’s mouths that no one would be shocked to overhear and give them emotions to which we can all relate or at least understand. Sometimes it’s very easy and requires almost no thought. Othertimes I agonize over the smallest of plot points, trying to separate myself from the story just enough to get some perspective.

As I’m planning out stories, I sometimes think, “Damn! Real life is boring.” It’s partly true. Most of us do the same things every day. We drive to the same places, eat the same foods, and even think the same thoughts. But, then I think about my own life. I live a very small life, yet so much has happened to me. I’m changing all the time. I’m very different even from the person I was at the beginning of this year. Real life provides a lot of drama, even for the undramatic like me.

So, you’ve got real life as you experience it, and it’s hard to get a grip on that enough to turn it into fiction. But, then you’ve got real life as you’ve seen it in books and art and movies. You’ve experienced the second almost as long as you’ve experienced the first, and they’re both very powerful. In fictionalized reality, like tv and movies, things happen very distinctly. People have big feelings and they act on them. There are resolutions and they are sharp. Emotion seems to follow some king of logic.

Many of us think in these terms. We try to apply movie logic to real life and we end up frustrated and disappointed. Things really aren’t fair. You can have big feelings and they can go unrequited until they slowly fade away. People are depressed for reasons that don’t make any sense by movie standards, and they have good and bad days that, similarly, follow no logic. Things don’t separate so easily into good and bad or past and present. There’s just so much gray and no matter how things turn out, you still have to wake up every morning and eat food and go to work and use the bathroom.

Knowing these two realities do not match, but not always being able to separate them, it’s hard to think of how to move forward in my own fiction.

But what are your thoughts on poetry? And what are some of your favorite poems? Are you more of a poetry or prose person? Let the discussion begin!

This post was written by Nic from PINKNIC.

Since starting out, I’ve gradually come to realise that writing is not the relatively risk-free career I expected it to be. So below, for your protection, I set out just a few of the dangers of the job they never warned you about in school!

1. Paper has an evil side
Seriously. Maybe it’s holding a grudge about the fact that it was once a beautiful tree before it was brutally chopped into thousands of pieces just so we humans could use it for our own enjoyment, but it cuts you at every opportunity. I’ve lost count of the amount of paper cuts I’ve gained over the years. And it’s never just a little graze. It’s a deep slash, it stings, it bleeds, it leaves a scar for days, sometimes even weeks.

2. Writer’s Cramp
Well, all that wrist action is bound to take its toll, isn’t it?!

3. No social life
Ok, so you get to go to some amazing places and meet fabulous (and sometimes famous) people. But what about the weekends you’re forced to give up, stuck at home, desperately trying to meet that oh-so-important deadline? How about the times you’re still awake at 2AM due to that brain of yours that just won’t switch off because it’s thinking up crazy new ideas and pitches? Or even worse, what if it’s NOT? Which leads me to my next point…

4. Writer’s Block
Easily every writer’s nightmare. When words are what make you a living (and ultimately keep you alive), it’s helpful if you’re not in short supply of them. Alas, sometimes the unthinkable will happen, and you’ll be at a loss for these precious gems. You won’t be able to write a THING. You just have to hope and pray that the block disappears before you starve to death.

I hope I’ve managed to give you a heads-up on some of the mortal dangers you will encounter if you decide to become a writer. But in doing so, I hope I haven’t put you off writing for life! Remember, the rewards are far greater than the risks.

This post was written by Mandy from Just a Small Town Girl.

“Writing is an exploration, you learn as you go.” ~ E.L. Doctorow

When I began this blog a few years ago, I never had any intention of actually blogging. Instead it was a vehicle by which I could keep up with my cousins who were in the process of adopting their first child. My blog sat in its own little corner of cyberspace, blank, empty, and cold. Then one day while I was in the midst of making a difficult decision about a friendship, I sat down to the computer and wrote. Upon hitting the publish button, I felt better, even knowing that no one would read it. Then I had some comments on what I had written. What? Someone wants to read what I wrote? Even when I think I have nothing to say, people still read and comment. I get excited when someone de-lurks to say hi. The past year or so, I’ve been diligent about blogging and the more you do it, the easier it becomes.

“Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those, who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear, which is inherent in a human condition” ~ Graham Greene

Writing has always been an outlet for me. I have stack upon stack of journals and diaries I have kept since my childhood. I like writing, even if what I write makes no sense to someone else. It’s a way for me to empty my brain, to get my thoughts outside of my head to better understand them. It’s a way for me to remember some the ridiculously crazy stunts my friends and I have pulled, those moments and feelings in time I want to capture (sometimes serve as a reminder of things I never want to do again). It allows me to share intimate thoughts and feelings that I don’t typically talk about with people. It’s an inside look at what I usually consider private thoughts. Other times it’s a funny story from my past that I think will entertain people. Sometimes its to write to ask other peoples opinion on a certain matter. I like getting comments and seeing what other people think about a situation.

“Writing is both mask and unveiling.” ~ E.B. White

I never in my wildest imagination thought people would actually read what I wrote. The more I turned to my blog to write, vent, or whatever I happen to be doing that day the more I wonder what my mom or some other family member might think about a post. I don’t advertise the fact that I have a blog. My cousins and another friend with whom I used to work are the only people in my real life who even know of the blogs existence. If anyone else I do know has stumbled upon my little space, they haven’t brought it up. Yes, my picture and name are on the blog and as another blogger wrote a week or so ago, its inevitable that some day, someone will find it. For now though I like having a place that is just my own, a place no one else knows about, where I can freely write and discuss things without worrying about judgments from family and friends. My blog is a place where I can share my thoughts, hopes, and memories. It’s a private place in a very public forum. I have thought about making the blog private, but some of my favorite blogs are those I came across while hopping from blog roll to blog roll.

“Whether or not you write well, write bravely.” ~ Bill Stout

Sometimes I wonder if the things I have written are too personal or too much information, if story of my drunken shenanigans, or complete incompetence make me sound like total moron. When you write a blog, you put a piece of yourself out there, sometimes baring your soul for other people to see. That’s not always an easy thing to do. I went back and forth for a few weeks deciding if I wanted to post what I wrote yesterday or if it was too private to share. In the end I decided to hit the publish button, but I have draft after draft of thoughts and feelings I haven’t decided to share yet. I don’t know if I ever will. I read several blogs, most of them written in a way that is much more eloquent and well spoken than I could ever hope to be. I read blogs ranging from motherhood, to cooking, to life in the city, to shopping, to—well, there’s a blog out there for just about everything. You are all authors of your own story, and I admire all of you for putting yourselves out there; for letting me and others into your life in a way that we otherwise wouldn’t have been able to share. The posts that I write aren’t always grammatically correct, sometimes my spelling is horrible, and sometimes they just might not make a whole lot of sense. Sometimes I just feel like writing.

“This is pretty much what journals are all about, at least to me. I knew as I wrote them that even though they provided an excellent place for brain (and heart, and psyche) dump, they were mainly a map of me.” ~ Colleen Wainwright

So, what about you. Why do you write?

This post was written by Hannah from Journal of a Rock Angel.

I remember when I was younger, I had these massive dreams about who I was going to be and what I was going to achieve. For years I knew I was going to university, I knew that that was what I was going to do but what I was going to do when I got there was a complete mystery.

In my ideal world, I dreamt about being a writer, then a doctor, then back to a writer. At one point I wanted to be a lawyer. I even wanted to be a paramedic at one point (that became almost realistic as I was going to take human biology in sixth form but my School didn’t do Human Biology on it’s own they just did normal Biology). I also wanted to be Marine Biologist – don’t ask me why I think I liked the idea of being able to swim lots!

Then I ended up back at a writer and it keeps coming back. I keep attempting to write short stories and stuff like that – I’ve done NaNoWriMo two years in a row and both times failed! I get to about 3000 words and have no further to go with my story. The characters fall into a black hole or something and I can’t get them out. I guess blog writing is my way of getting my writing out there but I’ve still not written a proper story. Then again I have a thirst for knowledge so many I should be writing Non-Fiction rather than Fiction.

Instead of following my dreams, I graduated from university and needed a job. I ended up a customer service rep for a safe company and read as much as I can during my lunch breaks and after work. Hopefully some day writing will be a full time occupation but for now it’s just a hobby then again its part time I think.

To a certain degree I struggle, I know what I want to say in my head but then when I get my pen to paper or my fingers to the keys, the ideas just fly away. I constantly have a notebook in my bag so that I can scribble the ideas down but it just doesn’t happen as easy as I think it should.

Maybe for now I’ll be a blogger or an online journal-ist.

This post was written by Megan and originally published on her blog Somewhat Voluble.

There was a time in my life when I wanted to do nothing but write. And so I did. I wrote until the ink emptied from my pen or until my eyes burned from staring at the computer screen for hours. It wasn’t necessarily by choice either. I wrote because I had to. I had to feel my words flood from whatever existed beneath the dark curls upon my head. Writing became my oxygen. Writing frivolously, I was able to write about my biggest fears or goals or what I expected to happen next. And then it stopped.

I don’t know exactly what happened. Maybe it was when life took over; I began to lose track of my fingertips. My ability to write beautiful words vanished, and I felt as if an important part of me had been ripped away, yet I could not gain it back. The world continued to tick by, slowly, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. My breathing became steadier, unlike when I wrote. When I wrote, I felt as if I couldn’t type quick enough to catch the spilling words. I became so unnervingly normal. I became silent. Mute. Another face in the crowd.

It’s almost as if I’ve been asleep since that moment in time. I’ve been flowing through a never-ending nightmare where words continue to drown. And now here I am. Awake. Shaken from what could have been the end. There is a chance for change; a chance for renewal. Maybe this is the beginning. Maybe this is just another hopeless attempt. However, I am ready. I’m ready to catch my breath. I am ready to have my words back.

What do you do when you just can’t write? How do you inspire yourself?

This post was written by Amber from Amber Alert.

My best writing is not my first draft or my second draft. Usually my best writing is a third or fourth draft. I write and re-write and then re-write some more.

Rewriting is a habit I’ve had to adapt since entering journalism school. When working on tight deadlines you don’t always have time to re-write your work several times. Sometimes, you don’t have time to re-write it at all. I’ve been working on getting out a good draft the first time around, but it’s been a slow process.

Here’s how my writing usually goes:

First draft: I sit down and write/type. I don’t worry too much about grammar or spelling or word count, I just get it all out on the page.

Second draft: I correct all the spelling and grammar mistakes and tighten up the story by taking out unnecessary words and fixing sentence structures so it sounds better or makes more sense.

Third draft and beyond: After the second draft is finished, I usually like to leave the piece alone overnight. This gives me a chance to forget about it and come back to it with fresh eyes. Usually I will find new mistakes or have new ideas to add in.

That’s how I write. That’s how I’ve always wrote. It’s even how I write my blogs. I usually type up a blog post a day or two in advance using a Microsoft Word document. The day I post the blog I make anywhere from little to huge changes before publishing the final draft.

Now that I’m learning to work with tighter deadlines I’m learning how to adapt my writing so I don’t have to leave it overnight, I can write a piece and submit it in the same day. Here are some tips I got from one of my classes:

1. Walk away: Even if I don’t have time to leave it overnight, I will always walk away from my piece for at least 10 minutes before finalizing it. Grab some coffee, go to the washroom, do some different homework, whatever.
2. Change format: This is the most helpful tip I’ve learned. I used to do all my editing on the computer, but now I print out a copy of my work and edit it by hand, I catch things that I don’t see when I’m staring at the computer screen. (Note: I don’t do this with blogs because that would waste too much paper, but I do it with school assignments).
3. Talk about the piece: I discuss what I’m working on with classmates or my boyfriend; it helps me think about the ideas in a different way.
4. Experiment: If something isn’t feeling right about the piece I’ll copy and paste it into a new document and experiment with different endings and leads.
5. Rethink every sentence and paragraph: I try to read the piece like an editor would, looking at each sentence and paragraph separately to suss out errors.

Do you guy’s rewrite your work or just go with the first draft? What about your blogs? Does anybody else have any rewriting tips?

This post was written by Elizabeth from Bros Before Hos.

First and foremost, Happy Saint Patrick’s Day from a full blooded Irish girl. Now, onto business…

Typically on my blog, Bros Before Hos, I write witty anecdotes about living in San Francisco, pretending to study for classes I don’t care about, my horrific attempts at dating, drinking too much, and the hilarity that ensues. Recently however, I decided to get more serious and write about being diagnosed with clinical depression and subsequent medication.

I debated with myself about whether or not to write about my crazy pills on BB4H but I have noticed in the time that I have been writing my thoughts online that I’m kind of an over-sharer. I figured since I had already written about cashing in my V-Card and accidentally falling in love with my best friend’s brother that this topic would not be off limits. Finally getting help for a problem that has been plaguing me for years was a significant moment in my life and I didn’t want it to be pushed under the rug. Equally important is that I wanted people to feel sorry for me and read BB4H more often. Just kidding! But seriously.

Some topics, however, are off limits. For example, I am more than willing to share the crazy in my head, but less than willing to share about the crazy going on outside of it. I don’t write about tiffs with my roommates or any other friends. If I’m going to write about a personal friend, then it’s going to be positive or at least incredibly funny so they won’t be mad. I also refrain from writing anything about work except that I’m writing while there and I very, very rarely write about my family unless I’m praising my mother and father.

I try and keep in mind that my blog is no longer anonymous. Personal friends of mine and even some of my family stop by to see what I’m up to. Though sometimes I miss the freedom that anonymity provided me with, I do not write anything that I wouldn’t be willing to discuss person to person. My depression is something that I’m struggling with and if I skipped over this huge part of my life, my writing would not be as strong. It’s also very therapeutic to be able to write about it and get feedback from readers, either in the form of support or because they, too, are living with depression. Honesty, I’ve always felt, is the best policy. Much like drinking, drunk texting, and fighting with your friends, however, there are limits to what I’ll write. What are yours?