One of our Red Wheelbarrow Writers gives us her review of the Chuckanut Writers’ Conference. Thanks, Jennifer Wilke, for sharing your take-aways and your experience!
THE PULITZER & VELCRO
One writerâ€™s report from the Chuckanut Writers Conference, June 21-22, 2013
by Jennifer Wilke
Be confident. Learn more. Keep writing. Write better. It isnâ€™t easy. Itâ€™s not supposed to be easy. You have to leave shit out, stay vulnerable, tell your truth. It matters. Stories can change the world.
One of the best takeaways from the 2013 Chuckanut Writers Conference was Garth Steinâ€™s keynote story about asking a producer friend to read the play heâ€™d just written, Brother Jones (www.garthstein.com).
â€œIs it any good?â€ his experienced friend asked over the phone.
â€œItâ€™s going to win the next Pulitzer Prize,â€ Garth answered.
â€œWell, then, send it,â€ she said.
His point wasnâ€™t grandiosity, it was to always keep bold faith with your own work.
Suzanne Paola calls it a â€œVelcro moment,â€ when you hear or read a delicious, unforgettable turn of phrase. Notebooks and napkins are made for recording these. â€œButtons are famous to buttonholes,â€ was another Velcro moment for me (from a poem written Naomi Shihab Nye, shared by Kathleen Flenniken).
On the first day of the conference, I made my practiced, impassioned five-minute pitch for my novel, face to face with an agent for the first time. Iâ€™d started weeks before with a dense outline, refined it, fumblingly practiced it, shortened and shortened, and shortened again. In search of Velcro. I literally felt my heart beat when I walked into the room. Then I pitched without a stumble.
The agentâ€™s response was perfect (leaning forward, smiling, â€œGreat pitch! Your passion for this project really shows.â€). Then, not unkindly, the agent expressed concern that my first-time novel might be written literally, too respectful of its factual, family sources.
Thatâ€™s when I fumbled. I said thatâ€™s exactly why itâ€™s taken me a decade, because it had to be better than a family history. But I let the agentâ€™s doubt in me change my smile. I could hardly use the evidence of my friendâ€™s voicemail message declaring that my novel was wonderful and she couldnâ€™t stop turning the pages. I had two minutes of pitch time left. The only proof is on the page, but the agent didnâ€™t ask to read them. And, not unkindly, told me that endorsements from historians and published writers could help me bridge the divide from Unpublished to Authorâ€”someone an agent might consider representing.
My pitch time was over. Next. I kept smiling, said thank you, and departed as graciously as I could. In the sun again, I paced the grass. My pulse returned to normal. I gave myself credit for bravery. I wondered if the bruises would show.
Curiously, every other session at the conference came with an evaluation formâ€”but not these pitch sessions. (Five minutes, really?! Someone sits at the door with a timer? This feels about as opposite as you can get to encouragement and support to writers. Shock treatment.)
One standard evaluation question throughout the conference was to describe an â€œAhaâ€ moment from each session we attended.
My first Aha was Garth Steinâ€™s keynote Pulitzer Prize boast. My second Aha was after the pitch session: I hadnâ€™t lived up to his example. Iâ€™d let someone elseâ€™s doubt tie my tongue. Iâ€™ve worked hard to put my passion for this story onto every page. That is my truth. My better defense wouldnâ€™t have changed the pitch outcome, but I would have stayed boldly in my own camp. I could have copped Steinâ€™s line entirely, even (with attribution, of course!)
If your goal doesnâ€™t make people laugh, it isnâ€™t big enough.
Another Aha: I have to do much more to prove my first novel is worth the time to read. Endorsements. Platform. All the things other writers are doing & talking about doing. I only half-listened, because I didnâ€™t know HOW. My magical thinking was that my route would be easier somehow, that my work alone would be enough.
It wonâ€™t. Iâ€™d heard this many timesâ€”but itâ€™s finally clicked. I must venture forth. I must learn how by trying things.
At the conference, Alice Acheson presented great information about marketing and publicity in an open session and by individual appointments. Iâ€™d studied with her in the past, and we had a happy reunion between sessions. When she heard about my credentials issue, she offered a great idea for the how. Alice advised that I get my novel MS published on Village Bookâ€™s Espresso Book Machine, use a brown cover and title it â€œAdvance Review Copy.â€ Find ways to get it to the people whose blurb or endorsement would matter to readers.
Jeff Benderâ€™s session on Christopher Voglerâ€™s The Writerâ€™s Journey was a great reminder to tend to structure. Wendy Call told us that humankind has been talking for about a half a million years, and writing for about five thousand years; our brains arenâ€™t hard-wired for writing yet. Here are two of the questions she asked us each to answer for ourselves: (1) What change do we want to see in the world? (2) Whatâ€™s the big question behind all of your writing?
Now that the conference is over, Iâ€™ve written my thank you notes. This is my thanks to all the folks who helped pull off the Chuckanut Writers Conference.
New words I learned:
Bowerbirds (incredible nests)
Plenary session (attended by all)
Catharsis (release from tension; spiritual renewal)
Reading list from the margins of my notes:
Thomas Maltman, The Night Birds
Frances McCue, The Car that Brought You Here Still Runs
Sharon Oldâ€™s poems
Charlotte Wing, The Darker Sooner
Alice Fultonâ€™s poems
Bruce Beasley, The Mass of the Ordinary
Suzanne Antonetta (Suzanne Paolo) Tell it Slant
Stanislas Dehaene, Reading in the Brain
Ellen Dissanayake, What is Art For? (and other works)
Elizabeth Bishop, One Art
Marcel Proust, Remembrance of Things Past
Joseph Campbell, The Heroâ€™s Journey
Christopher Vogler, The Writerâ€™s Journey
John Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men
Ken Kesey, One Flew Over the Cuckooâ€™s Nest
Vivian Gornick, The Situation & the Story: The Art of Personal Narrative
Lee Martin, Turning Bones (blog)
Natalie Serber, Shout Her Lovely Name
Francine Prose, Reading as a Writer
Naseem Rahka, The Crying Tree
Karen Finneyfrock, The Spell of the Seawitch
Waverly Fitzgerald, Portraits of Plants
Kathleen Flenniken, Famous
Priscilla Long, The Writerâ€™s Portable Mentor
Ruth Stone, In an Iridescent Time
Lisel Mueller, Fiction
Wislawa Szymborska, The End and the Beginning
Thor Hanson, Feathers: The Evolution of a Natural Miracle
Wendy Call, No Word for Welcome: The Mexican Village Faces the Global Economy
Bruce Beasley, Theophobia
Jennie Shortridge, Love Water Memory
Garth Stein, Timberland (coming)