On #Writing Prompts: Guest post by Maura Fitzgerald

For the last several years, I’ve been the sole teacher for a group of senior citizens in a Creative Writing Class at Harwood Place Retirement Living Center. This year, I invited a fellow writer, Maura Fitzgerald, to join me as co-teacher. She’s taken on the role with enthusiasm and dedication. (It’s tough to get up early on a Saturday morning to talk essays and poetry and “homework for next month.” Ask the seniors, they just requested to push the start time to a half an hour later!). Today, Maura shares a bit about teaching, about students young and old, and about the power and mystery in prompts. And yes, she leaves you with an assignment.


In Praise of Prompts

by Maura Fitzgerald

I once gave a group of 8th graders the prompt, When I am hungry…, and said “No rules. Just write.” Surely this exercise for kids who are almost always hungry would unleash their creative wild child to roam free across the blank page and leave a trail of original thoughts and insights. Instead, hands shot up. “Do you mean what do I eat when I’m hungry?” or “When I’m hungry for what?” and “I’m never hungry.”

Several students responded to the ‘hungry’ prompt by simply writing “I eat,” or they listed favorite foods. (Okay, prompts don’t always work.) But others were surprising and fresh on the page: A brief conversation between a girl and her empty, gurgling stomach; A boy who stuffed himself with fortune cookies for nutrition and wisdom.  Same prompt, very different treks across the vacant space.

Recently, I gave our group of writers at Harwood Place the essay, “The Potato Harvest,” by April Monroe, in which she describes how easily her garden surrenders to the approaching autumn.  After reading the essay, the group’s prompt was “Surrender.” Around the edges of the silence that followed, I sensed discomfort with the prompt. But I let it be. Prompts don’t come with comfort scores. In fact, discomfort can sometimes butt-kick a pen like nothing else. (Try it sometime with a prompt that chafes or confounds and confuses.)

The students—young and old—reacted like many writers do when facing a prompt. We crave directions for traversing the wide-open landscape of empty paper. Give me a destination and show me the landmarks along the way. Please. A compass might help, too.

The thing is, prompts come without instructions. On purpose. That’s why they work. Creativity holes up in unexpected places, so a writer must put pen to paper and follow the prompt to the unexpected.

While many writers don’t use written prompts, we encounter them daily.

A  waitress’s hairy arms or the brick-solid nurse whose name tag says Taffy. Sunday voices spreading salvation through open church doors. Sounds and sights and smells to catalogue for future use. Details that say, “follow me.”

Used items from MECCA, a clearinghouse in Eugene, Oregon that’s filled with scraps and discards for creative use—a clearinghouse of prompts. Newspapers and magazines from the 50s, family photo albums, previously sent greeting cards and letters, unusual postage stamps. I don’t need any of it. And I’m no hoarder. But there are countless items that prey on my curiosity. Who wrote this 1942 letter and what’s with the photo of the man and goat on the porch? I always leave with a bag of treasures competing for Prompt of the Day.

Even the local crime report: “Mints, a phone charger, and a softball were taken from a locked car…”  Who takes mints and a softball? Write about it.

Or park yourself in any airport or Laundromat and scribble away.

Go ahead, grab hold of a prompt and let it pull you in. Relax and enjoy the ride.

I’ll leave you with this prompt, a few lines from Mary Chapin Carpenter’s “I am a Town.”

I’m the language of the natives, I’m a cadence and a drawl
I’m the pines behind the graveyard, and the cool beneath their shade….

Read the full lyrics to the song here. Then, write details of a town from the viewpoint of the town.


Maura Fitzgerald has written nonprofit grant, marketing and communications, annual reports, and campaign appeals. Her nonfiction has appeared in Milwaukee Magazine and her fiction in Pank. Her writing has been featured on Milwaukee Public Radio, and she has done public readings at Fixx Coffee Shop and Woodland Pattern Book Center. She has taught creative writing to 8th and 9th grade students through Pathways Milwaukee, and presently co-leads the Harwood Place Writers Group with Christi.

Your Next Book Study:
The Emotional Craft of Fiction by Donald Maass

“Emotional craft isn’t a repackaging of old writing bromides. It’s a way of understanding what causes emotional impact on readers and deliberately using those methods. It’s a way to energize your writing with tools that are always available: your own feelings.” ~ from The Emotional Craft of Fiction by Donald Maass


What makes for a great story, strong prose or strong plot? Both. And then some.

I’ve read stories and books where, once at the end, I feel like I missed something. The imagery is there, the writing impeccable, the plot a real page-turner. But the book as a whole? Maybe I couldn’t put it down, but I probably won’t pick it up again either.

Having finished my current read on writing, Donald Maass’ The Emotional Craft of Fiction (Writer’s Digest Books 2016), it’s clear why a story may fall flat: the writer doesn’t go deep enough.

The writer (okay, I’ll say this writer) mistakenly assumes that writing in scene or using colorful details or well-planned white space are all you need to guide the reader along a protagonist’s rise or fall or road to redemption. Those techniques strengthen the story for sure, but as Maass says, “Strong writing doesn’t always produce strong feeling.” And that’s when the reader may lose interest.

So “dig deeper,” we often hear in critique. But what does that really mean? If you’re like me, you need specifics; you need concrete questions; you need relatable explanations.

Donald Maass offers all this and more in his new book on emotional craft, which is structured in a way best described as scaffolding. He begins with what many writers already know: the pros and cons of showing versus telling, the crucial tools of writing (like the art of voice and the importance of details), and aspects of plot–all necessary for a successful story. But then, he asks us to go beyond those essentials and infuse our fiction with an emotional journey that will hook the reader and leave him with a lasting impression.

He asks us to examine how we might surprise the reader. For example, reconsider details and incorporate the ones that carry the most emotional weight. Or, explore a character’s inner condition in more depth and show that through a description of the environment. That one really hit home for me, as I tend to focus on scene and setting to convey the tone of the story but forget about weaving in more pointed words or phrases that subtly reveal the character’s mood, not just what they see. Along with his suggestions, Maass incorporates a list of specific questions that will help writers work through these deeper explorations.

But most importantly, for me anyway, is the way Maass introduces new concepts (or new ways to look at old concepts) by tying them to our own every-day emotional experiences. He says, as humans, we are constantly in a state of change, our feelings are complicated, we reflect then act, act then reflect. These characteristics of humanity can be–and should be–an integral part of our stories. If we’re writing to connect, as so often we are (as so often I am), then why not build from what we and our readers already know, whether the story is fiction or not.

Okay, that last bit about whether we’re tackling fiction or not is something I added, because as with many craft books I’ve read, the learning I take away from these pages on emotional craft has begun to permeate other avenues of my writing. Maass focuses on fiction, specifically novels, and yes, I can see clearly why the novel I’m working on isn’t reading as well as I want (why it feels so sophomoric), but I am also considering his same questions and suggestions in my nonfiction.

I’m writing an essay about my experience swimming in Lake Superior and one on dismantling my mother’s home after she died. There are primary feelings attached to both of these events, but those basic emotions don’t tell the real story. As I look closer at what I’ve written, what manifests as anger may really be a mask for fear; what shows up as grief might later prove to be guilt. Underneath initial reactions to whatever event, there’s likely another more complicated, uncomfortable, revealing feeling.

There’s the crux of your story.

And that’s the key Maass gives us in his book: a better way to writing these more complex, disconcerting emotions that bring a reader closer to the story and kick-start the reader’s desire for self-reflection, so that your work becomes more than just a quick read, a well-written essay, a novel read once and forgotten.

There’s plenty more I could say, but I’ll leave you with a last (and another favorite) quote from the book that does exactly what Maass teaches throughout, one that hits on an emotion many struggling writers already understand, without telling us straight up what we’re reading about…hope:

…we have everything we need to tell stories full of human authenticity and emotional truth. . . . You don’t need more years, manuscripts, acceptance, likes, stars, movie deals, money, or anything else material to be a true novelist. You are that novelist already because you are human.

Buy the book, Check out one of Donald Maass’ upcoming three-day workshops on Emotional Craft. Start a book study with your most trusted writing friends. This paperback on craft is one worth keeping and re-reading.

Remington Roundup: #Listening, #Reading, & #Writing

1960's photo of woman at Remington typewriterTwo steps into August, and it’s past time for a summer edition of the Remington Roundup. Here’s your links to a cool new podcast for story lovers, a how-to book for story composers, and an end-of-summer in-person workshop for story explorers. 

Listening, Reading, & Writing, oh my!


#Listening

I’m not an avid podcast listener, but there are a few that I bookmark for days when I’m heavy into housecleaning or deep into dinner fixings or just on the road. New Yorker Fiction is a go-to standard, but a new one on the horizon is quickly making its way to the top of my list: LeVar Burton Reads. 

You know him from the Reading Rainbow, where he read children’s books aloud. Now, you can listen to him read and discuss short stories by authors whose names you’ll recognize and some you may not. Every episode I’ve listened to so far is not only entertaining but thought-provoking. Especially when the story breaks out into profanity and the radio volume is up and the kids are in the back seat and Hey, Ho! Thought for the day: how do you pause a podcast with two hands on the wheel and your iPhone more than an arm’s length away…. Whoops. Welcome to literary fiction, kids. Words are power; they pack a punch.


#Reading

Early in the summer when I was supposed to be downsizing my book collection, I stocked up on several new ones–some fiction, some non, and several craft books. Then, I took off for camping and road trips and on and on and on. Now, it’s time to dive into those books–especially the ones that will strengthen my writing, so I’ve set a personal goal to read one craft book a month. As I tend to be a slow reader, this could turn into one craft book every two months, but the point is: let’s get back to the nuts and bolts. I can always learn more.

This month, I’m cracking the cover of Donald Maass’ The Emotional Craft of Fiction: How to Write the Story Beneath the Surface (Writer’s Digest Books, 2016). This books dips into the reader’s and the writer’s emotional journey, how to weave inner and outer conflicts, identifying moral stakes (and more). Inside the pages are plenty of examples, as well as questions with which to approach your own work…plenty to get you thinking and writing. Or rewriting.

And, if you’re in New York City on August 17th for the Writer’s Digest Annual Conference, you can register for the one-day workshop with Donald Maass himself, on this very subject!


#Writing

Speaking of the nuts and bolts of craft, I’m offering an in-person workshop this month for writers called Exploring Story through Art, Theater, and Writing.

Inspiration Studios, the creative space that houses my writing studio, is running an art exhibit this month in conjunction with a play, both of which focus on the idea of every day people, their stories, and the way those stories connect us, influence, and inspire us. My writing course is designed to explore the importance of story by examining three different mediums of creativity: art, theater, and pen on paper.

With your registration, you’ll have access to the art exhibit, a reduced-fee ticket to the play, and three hours of workshop on creativity and story. You’ll leave the course with a wider perspective on the way creative expression enhances our stories, as well as with the beginning of a personal essay in hand and resources for fine-tuning that early draft into one that is publication-ready.

Click HERE to learn more or to sign up! The fee is $95, deadline to register is August 13th, and seats are limited.


What’s in your roundup of writing and reading these days?