Fiction Class San Francisco
Tue, 07/13/2010 - 3:51pm | Matthew Clark D...
Upon arriving in New York, I was lucky enough to snag two tickets to see one of the final performances of THIS WIDE NIGHT starring Edie Falco and Alison Pill. One ticket for me, and one for former-multiple-session-Labber Lorena, who has relocated to NYC and has started her training for Teach for America.
This play explores exactly the kind of territory we experiment with in The Lab, and it got me excited to imagine ways to incorporate the author's process into a session. Before seeing it, I was suspicious. I'd read that the writer wrote from interviews and research from her time "living among incarcerated women."
Edie Falco is my favorite actor right now, and like I said to Lorena, I would've bought full-price tickets to see her in a musical about the rise and fall of the Cabbage Patch doll. My expectations were high, and she most definitely delivered, and Alison Pill blew my mind with her mesmerizing performance. Talk about actors having total commitment to a roles! This writer exercised an enormous amount of restraint, and was able to let the actors (and therefore the audience) grapple with the complexities in the story, which included how being incarcerated changes a person--how someone who has been locked up is decidedly different from those who have not.
Yesterday I saw, along with Mark, the host of The Douglass Street Lab, the new exhibition at
The New Museum. Rivane Neuenschwander's show, A Day Like Any Other, left quite an impression. My mentor and friend Michelle Cartertaught me, when I was her writing student, to risk sentimentality without succumbing to it; to write into subject matter that scares and excites me; to mine the stuff that feels so important I fear I can only get it wrong.Neuenschwander's show edged on sentimentality without succumbing to it. So often, for me, contemporary art, especially Conceptualism, requires at least a minimum amount of contextualization, and more often than not, it engages my intellect and curiosity more than the squishier parts of my humanity. Sure, I read the placards and was interested to see when in chronological order each of the pieces were made, but the show itself made its mark on me emotionally. One installation consisted of a wall of pencil sketches of faces drawn by an police sketch artist who listened to volunteers who described their first love.A couple of the many questions it left me grappling with: How can emotion be translated into language into image? (Think about it: usually a police or forensic sketch is something made to catch a criminal or to identify a corpse. How would the same sketch appear differently if the murderer or murdered been described by the person who claimed him as his first love?) How does memory filter and change an image over time?
Last night I went to the film "Io Sono Amore" or
"I am Love" with Tilda Swinton. Her performance and the story was so layered I have to see it again. A couple of times. My friend John's shrink suggested it to him and he invited it to me. The shrink had been to see it three times. And not just for Swinton's performance. The film-maker and cinematographer made food scenes seem like sex and sex scenes seem like food. Everything lingered to the point of excruciating beauty. There's a scene where Swinton's charter hugs her daughter after a death in the family, and the camera lingers on their embrace for what seems like days before the emotion surfaces. The viewer gets to witness what's most intimate. Not the product of the emotion--but the trigger for it--and then it follows it up and out of the actors bodies. My expectations were constantly flipped.
If these things sound interesting to you, perhaps you're a good fit for The Lab. You don't need to be a writer or to have ambitions to be a writer to take The Lab. If you're a word nerd--and interested in writing into the kinds of questions I've described, maybe you should try something new and sign up!
I've been asked by everyone I've talked to "What's going on with the manuscript?" meaning, the one I finished the first draft of last summer. Well, long story short, I found out I need to find a new agent (the reasons why are everything but tragic, and contain no drama except I need to find a new agent). In the time that went by in getting the manuscript off to my former-agent and finding out I need to get a new one, I didn't look at the manuscript once. Then I was asked to do a reading in San Francisco, and while looking through it for a scene to perform, I thought, with five eight-hour days, I could really tighten this thing and take it to the next level. So I spent the first couple weeks doing that revision, and I feel great about it. Now it's out being considered at various agencies. The feedback that I've been getting is--knock wood--exceptionally positive, so I just have to practice patience.
I'm at a cafe in The West Village finishing up this blog entry, and I'm listening to my ipod. While writing that last paragraph a bonus track by Me'Shell Ndegeocello came on the shuffle. It's from
"Cookie" The Anthropological Mixtape," and it features poets reading over Me'Shell's beats. Suddenly, June Jordan, one of my first writing teachers is reciting one of her pieces in my ears. Next, my dear friend and mentor's Michael Mullen's band, Pocket Shelly, comes on, from his album "Small Illuminations in a Darkened Sky." The song is Pismo Beach, and it's all about love and saying goodbye and being left and photographs of missing persons and salt water taffy and triggered memories and Highway 1. I must've listened to it a billion times while working on the manuscript. And I'm choosing to make those two things mean that it's all going to work out. That said, I'm open to suggestions. If you have a hardworking agent who might be able to sell a novel about a troubled lady named Janis, I'd love a referral.
Greg and Michael, my New York hosts, are so generous, and every day I have to restrain myself taking the stairs to the top of The Empire State building and screaming THANK YOU at the top of my lungs for an hour for the opportunity they've given me. To be surrounded by art (in their home/gallery), Greg's gorgeous art books, to be able to spend time recharging, to see my family--it's all such a gift. I never know, from one year to the next, what's going to happen with work. And I try to live each day of these New York summers as if it's the last one. They've been such so supportive of my creative and professional process. I used to pride myself on my idea of myself as stoic, lonely do-it-yourself hard-worker. Not any more. I need to give and receive as much support as possible. No product is every guaranteed in this business, no matter how hard one works, and because that's true, I've come to value the relationships and the process and the true connection born out of this nutty pursuit.
Best Writing Classes San Francisco
Mon, 05/03/2010 - 12:30pm | Matthew Clark D...
April 2010 Blog Update:
Happy End-of-April everyone. Thank You to all of you who’ve referred people to The Lab and to my 1-on-1 services for writers. Everyone knows the overall state of Arts Education these days, and I’ve been blessed to have work. I couldn’t do it without you!
It’s such a great time of year to be a teacher. Especially one at SF State. We have two Pulitzer Prize winners this year, which is almost as great as hearing from current/former students are busy preparing to take off to various places: one to New York after getting hired by Teach for America, others to grad school: one to University of Hawaii at Manoa on a full teaching scholarship, another to The Iowa Writers’ Workshop, and another to San Diego State. I’m going to miss this year’s graduates very much. There is no place on earth where a more interesting mix of people exists than in an undergraduate creative writing class at SFSU. Congratulations to all of the undergrad graduates and to all of the folks on their amazing achievements.
And the grad students? How proud could I possibly be of the Fourteen Hills editors and staff? This Spring alone, they’ve produced a fundraiser and a big fiction reading all while sifting through hundreds and hundreds of literary and art submissions to make a magazine. These are students who, despite endless-seeming funding cutbacks and tuition increases in the State of California, know how to make their own education. 82 people have RSVP’d for our next event, The 16.2 Release Party, happening on May 21st at The San Francisco Motorcycle Club. (You should join us. It’s so much fun, it’s really not to be missed). By the way, Fourteen Hills is easy to follow. They're everywhere. On a blog, on Facebook, on Twitter. Sign up!
People have been asking about the manuscript I recently got off to my agent. Why isn’t the hardest part of writing a novel writing a novel? This is my second time finishing that task, and it seems relatively easy when compared to the waiting to see if an editor and publishing house will pick it up. My agent is confident, as are the people who’ve read it, but meanwhile, it’s nerve wracking, to say the least. About a month ago, I was having a conversation with a former SFSU student who has become a good friend. She asked me if I were writing. We were both surprised by my answer, I said, “Honestly I don’t know if I have what it takes to write another novel unless I get a book deal on this one.”
Both my novels took five years to write. In retrospect, I’m glad my first one never sold. It came close a couple times. Two editors wrote letters saying they brought it to the table at their publishing house to fight for it. Both times it lost when it came to discussions on marketing/audience. This feedback was more painful to me than feedback like, “It’s not ready. Get back to work.” I like “It’s not ready. Get back to work.” I’m a writer. I’m a worker. I like writing. I like working.
But marketing? Is that an excuse? Do they mean it? Does that really matter? Can’t the right person market anything? It’s impossible to tell. Some say it’s a polite blow off. Others say that people don’t have time to write extensive letters (one was two pages, single-spaced, by and editor at Crown) unless they believe in your skill.
Somehow, my actions are defying my statement. Suddenly I find myself exploring a new character in the few moments when I’m not teaching or at Trader Joe’s replenishing my food supply. He’s starting to hang out with me more, whisper in my ear, and share his opinions. I’m filling up a handwritten notebook, which is in the pocket of my motorcycle jacket. I find myself pulling it out when I shouldn’t, which is always a good sign.
Michelle Carter, one of the best creative writing teachers on earth, has a yet-to-be-published book on fiction writing. It’s unlike anything else out there. One of the things she asks her readers to consider at the beginning of the book is writing a list of things they’re afraid to write about for fear of getting “wrong.”
Number one on my list is the particular complexity it is for me to have siblings. I’m the middle of three male children. We split up when my older brother was 17 years old and my younger 10, and none of us have lived in the same state since. They’re both fathers, and married to women.
There’s nothing more charged or complicated to me—how I feel about them, the dynamics of being one of three boys. How it is to be the gay one, the unmarried one, the one who is not a father.
To complicate it, there are aspects of our pasts, years gone by with little-to-no-contact, gaps that cannot be bridged. We didn’t live together through adolescence, didn’t spend a moment together in high school, never played on the same sports team. There are so many experiences we each celebrated and endured alone, separately, even though the other two were out there in the world somewhere doing something like same thing. Why? Why did we not stay in better touch? Why are those bonds so strong that we can’t just stay out of each other’s business? Why does it feel so good to be together, even when it doesn’t? Why do their struggles or sadness make me feel so helpless in ways that my own struggles and sadness do not? What is it about the intensity and trust that they once held their tiny babies out to me, wanting me to hold them?
All of my fictional characters have been only children.
In relatively recent years, my family has become the most important thing in my life. I relish the time I get with my parents and brothers, their children, their wives. I’m fascinated by our similarities, our defenses, the ways our parents succeeded in passing down the vices and predilections of generations of Clarks and Davisons and the nuanced and glaring differences in how they manifest.
Perhaps it will not be a novel. I haven’t written a short story in over a decade and I want to spend the summer working on the short stories I wrote and started in grad school. Lots of them got published and I think I could put together a collection.
So apparently I can write while waiting to hear about another novel. I got caught in a moment of fear. I froze because my ambition and desire to be a part of the kinds of conversations one gets to when one has a book--my ambition and desire to take my teaching to the levels one can when one has a book--are sometimes overwhelming.
More good news? Apparently I can, while riding the waves of desire and ambition, even start writing about the thing I fear the most I’ll get wrong.
All of this is subject to change, but James, my new character, is a middle child. One of three brothers. He’s unmarried and childless. His brothers are not. So far that’s an exhausted list of the ways James and I are similar. Still, it's charged as if much more personal. The other day I wrote at Café Flore for a couple hours and the whole time my heartbeat felt a bit too fast for a person sitting still. I kept looking up, afraid the person next to me might see.
Who knows what, if anything, will come of it, but I'm so glad to have the teachers and students in my life who keep me pushing forward. People who've always emphasized the artist process over the product without being afraid to pursuit the product. People who have not made success bad or wrong just because of its challenges and elusiveness.
Thanks for reading my update.
***
Creative Writing San Francisco
Wed, 03/31/2010 - 1:07pm | Matthew Clark D...
March 2010 Update
It has not been easy. Luckily I don’t like easy. But this challenge went beyond. With what very much seemed like a complete lack of results in most of the classes, I wondered if there was any purpose in what I do at all. I nearly gave up, and now I’m so glad I stuck it out. Just three weeks ago the residency took a turn. After listening to suggestions from both the site teachers and my colleagues at Performing Arts Workshop, I rethought my approach. More than anything, I got over myself. Stopped being so attached to the outcome. Relaxed a bit and concentrated more on establishing relationships than imparting craft tools. (At one point I started laughing, realizing I was trying to get forth graders to write their autobiographies).
Suddenly students are happy to see me. (A couple of my students and two of my colleagues can be seen in this great video) Notebooks are out when I arrive at the classes. And kids who usually don’t speak or participate are suddenly opening up, writing stories.
It makes sense. One hour per week in the classroom isn’t very much time to established trust with anyone, never mind kids who have good reason not to trust many adults. I’m so glad I didn’t resign. Now Wednesdays are my favorite day of the week.
The thing I’ve learned this year about being a University teacher with furloughs is you’re still responsible to impart the same amount of information to the students. I scheduled my Hawaii getaway on a furlough week, which resulted in one less class but twice the reading and writing (and therefore preparation). In fact, I logged at least 20 hours of work in those four days. It turned out to be a strange kind of blessing for me to be trapped in the hotel the day of the tsunami warning. I was able to knock out eight hours of work after calling my mom and telling her I love her and if I get wiped out to tell everyone I died happy. In a penthouse. In a fancy hotel. In Hawaii.
When I lived, I was so grateful to have done so much work because I came back to full-throttle teaching and a flurry of events.
In the late 90s, I began volunteering at Glide, starting off with stuffing envelopes in their office and manning the phones in the volunteer center. Then, a couple years later, I got to work with on one the big fundraisers. I asked Cecil Williams how he and Janice Mirikitani kept people coming back for 30 years. He said, “Matthew, it’s important to leave people wanting more, not less.”
I’ve never forgotten that he said that to me, although at different moments of my teaching career you might think I had. Lately I’ve been really trying to live it. Not only with the kids, but at the adult literary events I’m a part of organizing. The 8th 8-week session of The Douglass Street Lab just had its final reading. We decided host a small benefit for ATA in exchange for their space.
The Lab attracts people interested in words who’re at every level—published writers, journalists, those with BAs and MFAs in writing—along with people who sign up for it as their first-ever creative writing class. One audience member left saying the material was so good he had no idea who was new.
I certainly had a blast. There’s something to be said about taking creative writing outside of the normal MFA academic setting (a setting, by the way, that I most-often love). Since, at The Lab, we don’t talk about our publications or where we went to “undergrad,” it lets people be. Instead of getting caught up in the nomenclature of the “fiction workshop,” we talk like regular people, trading in jargon for clear and direct feedback on what scenes are working to pull us into the world of the story or memoir, and why.
And then there’s Fourteen Hills. The editors and staff work their butts off to put on events for which people want to show up. They just had a very successful panel discussion/fundraiser celebrating the second printing of New Standards, an anthology of fiction collected from the magazine over the years. Check out the pictures. It was PACKED!
My favorite Fourteen Hills parties are the new-issue release parties, which have been held at The San Francisco Motorcycle Club. They prove (drawing over 150 word-nerds) that great food, good drinks, a fun raffle, a DJ and a dance floor (the last 14H party is where I first heard the mash-up of AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” and The Black Eyed Peas “My Humps,” which has invigorated my gym workout) can very much coincide with a quality literary reading.
Maybe now that I’m getting older I guess I want to have more fun, not less. I attended a reading last month where the participants were asked questions by the audience and some of the answers seemed so precious, so rarefied, bottled, and self-important it was practically unbearable. The writers didn’t even seem to be listening to what the audience was asking, but listening for a pause just so they could talk about themselves or how important it is “what we do.” They spoke as if there’s something inherently superior in being a writer or an artist.
Luckily the writers who struck me that way were balanced by those who just seemed passionate and nerdy about how great it is that these twenty-six letters can end up, somehow, turning into great stories. It was a good thing I was sitting toward the back and didn’t have a cyanide pill handy. If I had, I wouldn’t be writing this update.
Speaking of fun literary events, I’ll be reading tomorrow night at BaBL with three former Labbers! Brad Straw (who is organzing the event), the incredibly talented Jennifer Hasegawa (founder of The Barbie Cage and its accompanying haiku contest), John Yi (founder of Dublit); also reading is first-timer Scott Barney.
When: Thursday, April 1st
Where: H Café, 3801 17th Street, San Francisco
What time: 6:30-7:30
How much: FREE
Fourteen Hills has two upcoming events, the aforementioned release party for issue 16.2 on May 21st (mark your calendar, and stay tuned on Fourteen Hill’s Facebook Page), and Second Annual Gina Berriault Award: Featuring Adam Johnson at The Poetry Center in the Humanities Building at SFSU.
When: Thursday, April 15th, 2010
Where: The Poetry Center, Humanties Building, 5th Floor, SFSU
What time: 7-9pm
How much: FREE
RSVP on Facebook
Thanks for reading my update, and see you in April!
***
Creative Writing San Francisco
Sun, 02/28/2010 - 10:53am | Matthew Clark D...
I’m on an annual getaway with a bunch of friends. A trip I didn’t think I’d be able to afford this year until the prospect of budget cuts leaving me teaching 0-2 classes per week turned into the reality of teaching 9 classes per week. A trip in years past I loved to take turned, in the midst of the busiest and most-charged period of my life, into a trip I felt like I needed to take.
One of my friends in the hotel biz hooked me up with a luxurious room I’d never be able to afford at its normal rate—or even its near-normal rate. I still must work, but working from the beach after doing yoga and then reading in a bed with 400 thread-count sheets feels much more doable than driving from class to class on a motorcycle in the rain. My hotel-biz-friend is the same friend who has us waiting out the tsunami in the penthouse. My room (on the third floor) was evacuated to a public place in the hotel across the street.
Life is so strange.
I also just finished reading TRUTH AND BEAUTY by Ann Patchett. It’s about all the subjects I find endlessly fascinating: family, friendship, writing, the creative process, self-destruction, loss, addiction, and survival. This book really digs into dumb luck of survival--the randomness and even brutality of it—-she explores what often, and mistakenly, gets reduced down to "the triumph of the human spirit." It details her enormously complicated and compelling relationship to the late writer Lucy Grealy, who’s AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A FACE I assigned along with TRUTH AND BEAUTY for my Uses of Personal Experience course at SF State.
The Douglass Street Lab, I can hardly believe, is going into its sixth of eight weeks. This session’s group, more newcomers than regulars, more people I’ve met for the first time than people I’ve known before, is producing some of the most charged work I’ve seen. I love the freedom The Lab offers, not ruled by the necessary rules of a university or grant funding. It brings me much joy.
There’s so much more I want to write about. Somehow I want to tie-in the feeling I got reading TRUTH AND BEAUTY, how the narration of Patchett’s memoir maintained its steadily-increasing tension even though the reader knows in advance what will happen—and what it’s like to be waiting for the tsunami to hit from the 21st floor from a penthouse suite—and what it’s like to be waiting to hear if I’ll ever get my first book deal now that my agent has sent out my manuscript to the first round of editors. But I just can’t.
Creative Writing Classes Bay Area San Francisco Fiction Memoir SFSU
Sun, 01/17/2010 - 2:16pm | Matthew Clark D...
January 2010 Blog Update:
***
Contents:
-2 Slots Left in The Douglass Street Lab, which starts this Tuesday 1/19
-Update from New York City
***
It's not too late to sign up with 2 slots left...
The January Douglass Street Lab is looking to be one of the most exciting groups of Labbers so far. With ten people signed up (thanks to all of you who helped spread the word on Facebook!), we have, for the first time, more newcomers than veterans. This should be great because the four veterans are so talented and open and generous in their participation. They're the kinds of folk you want in a room when you’re taking new risks with your writing.
I’m excited to see where our 8 experiments take us. There are still two slots if you care to join us, I’d love to have you.
To sign up for The Lab, click here.
***
Greetings from New York. My cousin Greg and his partner Michael (who also happen to be two of my best friends), surprised me around Thanksgiving-time with an invite and ticket to New York. I hadn’t been here during the wintertime in more than twenty years. I took full-advantage of the much-needed getaway and saw a ton of art. Highlights included the Jim Hodges/Felix Gonzales-Torres show, Joseph Beuys, Martin Wong, and the Kandinsky retrospective at The Guggenheim.
I saw Alan Cummings perform his live cabaret act (lower-case not capital Cabaret, see above) at Joe’s Pub & was so lucky to see David Greenspan perform his inspired show The Myopia. I reunited with a friend I hadn’t seen in seven years, met his partner, saw my NY homies, hung with my cuz and the hounds. All in a week!
Now I’m sitting on the couch, over-flowing with gratitude and appreciation at my dumb luck while procrastinating packing. I’m writing in the seat where I spent so many hours over the past three summers researching, reading, and writing. It’s a joyful/melancholic and slightly nerve-wracking sensation to reassume the position now that the manuscript is finished and out of my hands.
How strange it has been to walk through New York without the filter of “would Janis go here?” (Janis is the subject of the novel I just finished). Instead, I said, (sometimes aloud), “Janis used to go there,” and “My friend Janis loved that place when she lived in New York.” Now, because of this trip, I want to go back into the manuscript and rewrite some of the winter scenes because of what I’ve learned about the winter light.
***
THANKS AGAIN TO ALL OF YOU. I HOPE YOUR 2010 is off to a great start.
Creative Writing San Francisco
Fri, 11/27/2009 - 9:43am | Matthew Clark D...
*Sign up for The Douglass Street Lab's next session starting 1/19/10.
***
The new issue of Fourteen Hills is also about to be released. You can come hear some of the writers at the release party on December 16th at the San Francisco Motorcycle Club. This issue is visually stunning and the work in it will please all of the word nerds in your life. You can buy it through SPD or you can subscribe here. Either way, come to the party. It’ll be fun. And it’s free. More info on the address/time/readers here.
***
Ok. It may not have been the best movie on earth but something that came out of that movie totally changed my life. Oprah interviewed the cast of the movie and several of the actresses lamented about how hot it had been on the shoot. The way I remember it, Oprah listened to the details about how hot it had been on set and Dolly Parton said nothing. Oprah turned to her and said, “Dolly, you’re the one who had to wear all those big wigs and all those layers. Weren’t you hot?” And Dolly Parton looked at Oprah, paused, then said, “When I was a little girl growin’ up in the backwoods of Tennessee I wanted to be a famous country western singer and a movie star. Now I’m a country western singer and a movie star and I’m not going to complain about the weather.”
In a recent conversation with my mother and a friend she's known for forty-five years, we all talked about the teachers who had an influence on us even when we didn’t know it at the time. I’ve had a lot of great teachers. But with most of them I’ve known how great they were even during the “during phase.” With some of them, I’ve had the pleasure of having time-delayed double-appreciation for what I’d already appreciated.
I had a high-school art teacher named Mrs. Fitz. Anyone who knows me knows that I dropped out of high school when I was fifteen. And I only attended a tiny portion of my freshman year so I couldn’t have been in her class more than a dozen times. My high school felt like an entirely hostile environment—students and faculty included—so I’d given up on any attempt to gain anyone’s acceptance or approval. Instead I rebelled, refusing any help. I don’t know if Mrs. Fitz ever even noticed me. But I noticed her. She came to our small-town conservative Massachusetts school with her spiked hair. She wore layered outfits that looked like a cross between Pat Benetar and Stevie Nicks. She called herself an artist and her teaching style reminded me of Debbie Allen’s character on the television show Fame.
Memory is imperfect, and my filters of that time were incredibly emotional and hormonal, so I’m not stating any of this as objective fact. I remember her talking to the people in the room who were most interested in what she had to offer. She didn’t exclude anyone or ignore anyone—but drew people in with her passion for the subject. To appear on her radar one needed to take risks and show some passion of one’s own. I was already too far gone. I’d hatched a plan to run away and return to California and make it as an actor. I didn’t want small town art classes. I judged her and everyone else I liked before they could judge me. I’m not sure she and I ever even had a one on one conversation. I do, however, have an awareness of how often I thought of her over the years. I wondered what it was like to be her. There. In that town. I wondered if she were married or single or if she had a boy or girl friend. I wondered if she’d sensed my gayness. (After all, didn’t all artistic people have advanced gaydar?) I’ve thought about her when in museums or when playing with clay with my nieces and any time I’ve ever attempted to sketch something on paper (a town square, an apartment’s floor plan, an outfit that I’ve needed to see first on paper in order to describe in a story). She once told me a sketch I drew of a mouse sticking his head out of a hole in a triangular piece of Swiss cheese had good shadowing. I’ve never forgotten her or it.
Why? She taught me that having a life as an artist is a possibility. It didn’t matter where you lived. It’s how you lived. What mattered was how you saw the world and how you responded to it.
Things have been tough this semester at SF State with the cutbacks, and word is that it’ll get worse before it gets better. But I’m not going to complain. Why? When I was a little boy sitting on a rock looking up at the stars in a small town in Massachusetts, all I wanted was to be around people who made art with words or paper or their bodies. I wanted to make my living not as a truck driver or a computer programmer or a waiter (all jobs held by people I loved), but as an artist. And now I’m making my living as an artist and I’m not going to complain about a couple of cutbacks.
I few weeks ago I wanted to complain about the classes I’m teaching to forth and fifth graders and at an afterschool middle-school program. But I held my tongue. And I’m glad I did. Not only because they’re starting to trust me, to open up and actually write stuff down, but because during this conversation with my mother and her friend I realized that being a teacher has nothing to do with getting the results I want to see. It’s about presenting possibilities. These classes through Performing Arts Workshop are the most challenging I’ve taught. Or maybe it just seems like that because I’ve been teaching the others for a while and I’ve gotten more used to them. At any rate, they make me feel alive.
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. By the time this goes up it will be the Monday after. I’m writing this from Mendocino where my mother and I have spent the week driving up and down Highway 1 stopping to eat sushi and Thai spring rolls and avocados on benches overlooking cliffs that drop into the bright blue Pacific. I was raised in California before my father was transferred to Massachusetts and my parents took my brothers and me along this coast when we were kids. It’s quite a sensation to revisit this area with my mom. She with her head of hair as white as the wave caps and me with my baldhead and graying beard. On days like today it seems like all of it makes sense and no matter what happens it’ll be okay. Or not. And either way, everything will continue on.
Writing Class Begins January 2010
Fri, 10/23/2009 - 10:46am | Matthew Clark D...
*Douglass Reads 6/Tuesday November 3rd at Adobe Books on 16th 6:30pm
*"Start Your New Year Write" Douglass Street Lab's Greatest Hits starts 1/19/10 and is open for registration now.
Happy Autumn everyone. It feels like years have gone by between the September and October updates.
I also just finished my third week of teaching at Paul Revere School in Bernal Heights through
Performing Arts Workshop. There, my job is usually to work with the teaching artists, not the students. I first went to Paul Revere as an on-site mentor for a new artist, and was delighted to find one of my former students in charge of their after-school arts programming. She asked me I could teach Creative Writing to their 7th and 8th graders. At the time I couldn't, because of my schedule at State....and then came the cutbacks...So now I'm not only teaching those two after-school classes to middle-schoolers, but I'm also teaching two 4th grade classes and a 5th grade class. Five classes in a row in Creative Writing!
They've all expertly grasped the difference between fiction and autobiography, realistic fiction from fantasy, and they're preparing to write entirely fictionalized but realistic stories that borrow from their autobiographies. I read them a story I wrote in graduate school, one that explores the inner-life of one of two little sisters. They're coping in the aftermath of the death of their mother. (Don't worry: I okayed it with the school counselor. Seriously. I did!). It's set in deer-hunting country and one of the girls is obsessed with a dead deer in the back of her uncle's truck. Then I answered questions about what I imagined (some said they couldn't believe that I'm not, and never have been, a hunter or a father or a girl); and what I borrowed from my autobiography.
The most recent session of The Lab has also been a joy. I feel lucky to see how creative writing can open things up for people in so many different settings/age groups/contexts. The experiments this time were inspired by Philip Glassand Roland Barthes and Lucy Grealy and Aristotle and Zadie Smith and a cartoonist and an architect (just to name a few). The Labbers' findings have often been thrilling, inspiring me to keep my eyes open to how every single thing might deepen or expand the worlds of my fiction.
A student from the Fourteen Hills MA/MFA class at SFSU just interviewed me for a new blog. You can check it out here.
***
Speaking of The Lab,
The most recent session of "Douglass Street Lab," an intimate writing workshop, INVITES YOU to a public reading:
“DOUGLASS READS 6”
TUESDAY NOVEMBER 3rd, 2009
6:30-8:00 pm
ADOBE BOOKS
San Francisco, CA 94103-3363
(415) 864-3936
ADMISSION: FREE (but you're welcome to make a purchase at Adobe Books and keep an independent bookstore alive!)
"The Lab," which focuses on the prose experiment, is named after the street where the group meets. "Douglass Reads 6" will feature short shots from the works-in-progress of:
Chris Brecheen
Erica Eller
Dax Garcia
Diane Glaub
Zach Grear
Laura Haber
Roseli Ilano
Lorena Landeros
Miya Reekers
Derek Rock
Mark Rubnitz
Claire Sherba
Anne Trickey
The vibe will be more sunny than somber. We are people who take our work—but not ourselves—seriously.
***
And finally, I'm registering people for "Start Your New Year Off Write: The Douglass Street Lab's Greatest Hits."
Memoir Class San Francisco
Sun, 09/06/2009 - 6:51am | Matthew Clark D...
Many exciting things. First, be on the lookout for my new website. It's coming soon!
I'm back to school at SFSU (see picture above), and we're already cookin' in Craft of Fiction. Also, Fourteen Hills has been on a poetry -success-run, with selections from the most-recent issue on Daily Verse as well as in Best New Poets 2009. Congratulations to the incredible editors and writers!
A former student/Teaching Assistant, RA Martin, was on the cover of the NYT book review recently, for an anthology he edited and contributed to. In it, there are pieces from SFSU's Kirk Read and a former Labber and SFSU student Lorelei Lee, who is now off at NYU pursuing her MFA.
In my own writing life, I'm in the thick of it. I suspected this day would come. The day when the excitement of finishing a big project would wane and the anxiety of waiting to see what, if anything, the world will do with it would wax.
Standford University has set up this page for their faculty and staff to address "Writing Productivity Problems." It's pretty intense, going well beyond the expected list of symptoms that these Stanford doctors say can result from writer's block/deadline pressures.
I want to know. Where is the medical advice page for those who've finished a project and are waiting?
It has been recorded that William Faulkner would go on major drinking binges between his projects, ending up at Wright's Sanitarium, a Mississippi Nursing Home. Virginia Woolf's husband Leonard described the time between his wife's sending off the proofs ofher biography of Roger Fry to the printers on 13th May, 1940, and hersuicide on 28th March, 1941 as "319 days of headlong and yet slow-moving catastrophe."
Oh Good Lord. What have I done with this update?
Please know that this is not a personal cry for help. Nor is it meant to minimize Virginia Woolf's lifelong struggle with depression or mental illness. I am not being glib. In fact, I spend a lot of teaching time reminding students (and myself) of the brilliant AND healthy living artists who take care of their bodies, treat their illnesses, and find ways to feed their souls so they can continue to contribute their art to the world.
I'm just sayin' I can understand how easy it might be to get derailed.
I'm also so utterly grateful that school started again. That The Lab is starting again. That work with Performing Arts Workshop is resuming. Because—the waiting—the waiting to hear yes or no, the waiting to hear good or bad—It's a real challenge. One that I'm very happy to have the luxury of trying to live with.
The only thing that works is to keep writing and/or to nourish the imagination of the writer. So. That's what I'll do. I'll keep going out and finding art that makes me want to create something. And this Fall at Douglass Street, I'll be doing all of the same writing prompts as the pupils in The Douglass Street Lab. Meanwhile, keep your fingers crossed for me. And I'll keep mine crossed for you.
Creative Writing San Francisco
Fri, 08/14/2009 - 7:12pm | Matthew Clark D...
August 2009 Blog Update:
***
Contents:
*Updates.
*East Meets West at Laundry Party on 8/20.
*Fall 2009 Registration Douglass Street Lab & Open House.
*1-on-1 Manuscript Consultations.
*Become "a fan" of The Lab on FACEBOOK.
***
Updates:
July was one busy month. I said "so long" to my beloved New York, reunited with The Bay and worked hard to deal with my work situation. So many incredible teaching artists are suddenly out of jobs and insurance because of the mammoth cutbacks in education.
Still, I'm grateful for the distraction that looking for work provided. There's nothing like finishing a project that took years to do and then WAIT to find out what's next. I've been calling people who've finished novels and asking them how they did it. How they waited for the agents and editors and readers to finish reading. One said she gained 20 pounds. Another said he went crazy "dating" (ahem). The most sensible answer was a friend who said she got right back into writing, as if the previous manuscript never existed. Her answer fits right into what Philip Glass, the American composer, said in the documentary I'm watching about him, "I have one secret. You get up early in the morning and work all day. That's the only secret."
My plan was to jump right back into my writing. I thought I'd edit my short fiction for a collection. Instead, I had to start job hunting.
Luckily, things look like they're going to be okay now. At least for the next six months. This morning, I opened a story I've been putting off getting back into for years.
Thanks to everyone who sent such supportive notes about the finishing of the big draft and/or about my work at State being cut back. Thanks to everyone who signed up/posted/forwarded/talked about The Douglass Street Labs and/or my manuscript consultation services.
I know there are tons of classes and very qualified writers out there, and I very much appreciate your support.
***
"The Laundry Party"
Thursday, August 20, 2009
7:00pm - 10:00pm
Kearny Street Workshop at PariSoma
1436 Howard Street @ 10th Street
San Francisco, CA
A bi-coastal sometimes private/sometimes public salon series, this one is a free public event where a variety of different artists preview, workshop, and showcase new works in multiple genres.
I'm thrilled that the series' originator, the actress and playwright Samantha Chanse , is going to be back in SF from Columbia University's MFA Playwrighting program. Sam will perform a chapter from my novel manuscript as part of the evening's lineup.
Hope to see you there! For more information, RSVP on facebook.
***
Douglass Street 6, The Fall 2009 Lab, starts Tuesday 9/8/9 and runs for 8 consecutive weeks. As it stands, three slots remain.
This Sunday 8/16, I'm co-hosting an "open-house" to catch up with those who've already taken The Lab and to meet people who're interested in finding out more about this/future sessions. Please feel free to drop by. Details here.
Click here:
to find out more about The Lab
about Matthew
or to read testimonials from people who've taken The Lab.
If you're already sure you'd like to sign up, don't wait! I've joined eventbrite to make signing up a breeze. Click Here for more info & to register.
OPEN SLOTS FOR MANUSCRIPT CONSULTATION
For nearly fifteen years, I've been working with fiction/memoir writers who're interested in tightening their work. They may be sending it out for publication consideration, or applying for graduate school, fellowships, or grants. Some clients simply want to improve upon their craft. Through the years, I've worked with Pushcart and O'Henry-winning authors, and writers whose imaginations and hard work got them invited into MFA programs as competitive as University of Oregon, Syracuse, Columbia, and NYU.
While The Lab is ideal for people who want to generate new work and/or to expand a project; working 1-on-1 is best for those who have an existing project they're ready to work hard on finishing. Click here to find out more about how it works. Click here to read testimonials with people who've worked 1-on-1 with me.
***
If facebook hasn't already taken over your life, here's an opportunity to increase the chance that it will. Click Here to become "a fan" of The Lab. Past, present, and future Labbers and lovers of words drop by and contemplate quotes for/by/about writing and/or life and/or art. Also, up-to-date information about The Lab and the people in it.
Thanks for reading this update!
Fiction Classes in San Francisco
Sat, 07/11/2009 - 1:51pm | Matthew Clark D...
This Blog Entry Contains:
*Updates.
*NY Reading with Anne-E Wood and Evan Rehill on 7/12.
*Fall 2009 Registration Douglass Street Lab.
*1-on-1 Manuscript Consultations.
*Become "a fan" of The Lab on FACEBOOK.
***
Updates:
I'm delighted to report that the finished draft of my novel manuscript is finally in the hands of my agent and a couple of trusted friends. I've learned a lot about writing (and about myself) from the last phase of the process, and wrote about it a bit in a blog entry I posted this past spring.
"Do not hurry. Do not rest." is a Goethe quote for which I've come to gain the utmost appreciation.
Now I'm vacillating between complete and utter calm and serenity (which very well may be denial) and impatience to get back to work. Happily for me, the ratio is about 80/20.
Given that I'm here in New York, with the splendid good fortune to be living in an art gallery, I have no shortage of activities with which to fill the time I'd been working on the novel. I've been going to plays and museums, walking around taking photographs, talking to visual artists about their processes, and reading, reading, reading.
In those ways life feels so very good.
The same day I finished my manuscript, I also received a phone call from my boss at SFSU. Two of the three classes I was scheduled to teach have been canceled due to the disastrous state California finds itself in.
That's never a fun call to receive.
But it's not surprising when one makes one's living in Arts Education in a state institution. After all, California employs a former bodybuilder as the governor.
It'll be interesting to see the art that will result from particular time in history.
My hope is my SFSU students will not be entirely discouraged by their ever-decreasing educational options—but will instead keep reading, keep writing, keep on engaging in the activities that ignite that fundamental human impulse to create.
***
R/A R/A READING with Anne-E Wood and Evan Rehill.
If you're in NY, or know someone who is, please consider coming to and/or forwarding this invite to your NY friends:
Sunday, July 12, 2009
7:00pm - 8:00pm
I'll be reading from LETTERS TO THE DEAD with the following two former-SF-writers who now live in Brooklyn:
Anne-E. Wood's fiction is forthcoming or has appeared in Tin House, Gargoyle, Able Muse, Agni, The Chicago Quarterly Review, New Letters, Karamu Literary Journal, Beloit Fiction Journal, Other Voices, The Cream City Review, Fiction Attic, Fourteen Hills Magazine, Hustlers: An Anthology of Gay Male Sex for Hire (under a pen name) and others. She has an MFA in Fiction from San Francisco State University and won the 2006 Michael Rubin Chapbook Award for her collection Two If By Sea. She has taught creative writing at San Francisco State University, Rutgers University, The New Jersey Institute of Technology, the Gotham Writers' Workshop in New York City, and in public schools, juvenile halls, homeless shelters, and youth centers all over the country. She currently lives in Brooklyn and is at work on a novel.
Evan Rehill grew up in Jersey. His writing has been published or is forthcoming in American Short Fiction, Instant City, Watchword, 14 Hills, Big Bell, and Kitchen Sink Magazine. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2006, won the Miriam Ylvisaker Award for Fiction in 2007, and earned his MFA from San Francisco State University in 2008, where he was also an Adjunct Professor of Creative Writing. He has delivered lectures at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and on Neighborhood Public Radio. Push Press published The Way We’re Used To (limited edition) in the summer of 2008. Rehill has completed a collection of short stories (Night Comes Later) and is at work on a novel. He currently teaches fiction at the Gotham Writers’ Workshop in Manhattan. He lives in Brooklyn.
***
Douglass Street 6, The Fall 2009 Lab, starts Tuesday 9/8/9 and runs for 8 consecutive weeks. If you're interested, you can guarantee yourself a seat now. (The Fall session usually sells out a few weeks before it starts). As it stands, a few slots remain.
I've joined eventbrite to make signing up a breeze. Click Here for more info & to register. I'd also very much appreciate it if you'd forward this email to that friend who has been talking about taking a writing class.
Click here:
to find out more about The Lab
about Matthew
or to read testimonials from people who've taken The Lab.
***
OPEN SLOTS FOR MANUSCRIPT CONSULTATION
Since I'll be teaching less at SFSU this Fall, I'll have a few extra open slots for 1 on 1 Manuscript consulting. For nearly fifteen years, I've been working with fiction/memoir writers who're interested in tightening their work to send out or to apply for graduate school, fellowships, grants—or to simply improve upon their craft. My clients have included Pushcart and O'Henry winning authors, and writers whose imaginations and hard work got them invited into MFA programs as competitive as University of Oregon, Syracuse, Columbia, and NYU.
While The Lab is ideal for people who want to generate new work and/or to expand a project; working 1-on-1 is best for those who have an existing project they're ready to work hard on finishing. Click here to find out more about how it works. Click here to read testimonials with people who've worked 1-on-1 with me.
***
If FACEBOOK hasn't already taken over your life, here's an opportunity to increase the chance that it will. Click Here to become "a fan" of The Lab. Past, present, and future Labbers andlovers of words drop by and contemplate quotes for/by/about writingand/or life and/or art. Also, up-to-date information about The Lab andthe people in it.