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From the Mouths of Writers 1: The Best Advice You Ever Received

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by Jeana Conder

A couple of weeks ago I set out on the task of asking local writers to answer a series of eight questions I compiled.  The responses I received are now creating our newest series, “From the Mouth of Writers.”  We hope that this series allows upcoming writers to gain knowledge from others with the same passion. This week’s question:

What is the best advice you have received about writing?

Allyson Loomis

A poet once told me that all you have to do to be a writer is (1) LIVE (2) READ (3) WRITE (4) THINK ABOUT WRITING (5) REPEAT UNTIL DEAD.  I’ve always thought that was a sound checklist.  I routinely share it with my students.

Sandra Lindow

When I was a sophomore in high school, my English teacher said that I didn’t need to “try to be different”.  He believed that I was “different enough” to become a successful writer by just writing the truth about myself.

Molly Patterson

The best advice given to me as a writer was to try different techniques, to push myself outside of my comfort zone. I used to live in San Francisco and had been writing for some time when I took a class with the Writers Studio. Their model was based on reading a published writer's piece, breaking down the various techniques in terms of voice, point of view, style, and approach, and then using those techniques as guidelines for beginning a piece of your own. This method helped me become much smarter as a writer and reader: by forcing me to take on different styles and voices, I expanded my range. The surprise is that in the process, I developed my own voice as a writer. I would recommend this process to anyone.

Bruce Taylor

“A fool on a fool’s journey would be a fool to stop.” Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

Jon Loomis

Read everything and write every day.  I don’t necessarily follow it, but it’s great advice.  

Marsha Qualey

I have been teaching for ten years in a low-residency MFA program. Twice a year the students and faculty meet on campus (Hamline University) and the writing talk flows. I have taken in so much great advice, but possibly the most eternally pertinent to my own writing comes from a faculty colleague, Claire Rudolf Murphy, who likes to pound the podium and urge “Cut the exclamation marks.” That caution is about much more than punctuation, of course. My writing leans toward the emotional and I need to monitor that aspect all the time. Looking for exclamation marks is a good approach.

Sandra McKinney

Write every day; in a journal or otherwise. Meditation.  

Jay Gilbertson

I have been given a ton. As any published writer who has been around will tell you. I suggest you attend workshops or take classes and read writing books (or any book, for that matter) and look over the acknowledgements to see what inspired that particular author. Don’t Stop Writing! Oh, and read and read and read and NOT just in your genre.

Nickolas Butler

Read, read, read.  There's no way you're going to become a great writer, without first becoming a great reader. 

Brett Beach

In an interview on the Longform podcast, Cheryl Strayed talked about the success of her memoir, Wild. Paraphrasing here, she notes that the success was one part luck—extraordinary luck of the kind that so rarely happens, it should not be a thing people wish for—but, more importantly, she had written the best book she could, so that when luck came, she was ready. In other words, she had worked hard. Really, she had worked her butt off.

I think about this all the time: that of all the things writers believe they can control, in truth the only thing we can do is work, and do the best work possible. I believe deeply in working hard. I take writing seriously, and do not romanticize it (no lit candles, no prayers to a muse, no special pen, no writer’s block). Nor do I treat writing an occasional hobby. The writers I know, and respect the most, have all found ways to make space in their lives for writing. Writers prioritize writing—are sometimes even selfish about it. (Ha! Ha! you laugh. Does he have kids yet?) The act of creation can be wonderful, and frustrating, and euphoric, but it is also a choice I make each day when I sit down: I am a writer. I am here to write. So I do the work.  

Cathy Sultan

Things: Always be honest. Your reader will know if you aren’t; Write about something you know and are passionate about.

Teaching and Learning in Writing 101

By Brady Krien

On my first day of teaching college writing I handed out 3x5 note cards to my students and asked them to give me a little bit of information to help me get to know them. I asked for their name, their major, why they chose Marquette, and their favorite Tom Hanks movie. I also asked a few questions aimed at getting a sense of who they were as writers, asking what they struggled with most, what their semester goals were, and if there was anything that I should know about them as writers.

The responses were mostly unsurprising. Students were anxious about commas and the higher stakes of college, many just wanted to get through the class and improve their writing a little (or, in one case, to improve their “grammer”), and none of them had heard of Joe versus the Volcano. What I did not expect was the number of students who claimed that they were “bad writers.” Over half the class claimed to be poor writers.

Looking back, having repeated some version of this same activity with each of my classes, I should not have been surprised. This was the most common response that I received at Marquette and continues to be the most common response I receive at my current institution in Iowa. The odd thing is that very few, if any, of the students that I work with are bad writers. There are writers who occasionally produce bad writing, writers who’ve convinced themselves that they “write better on the first draft” and never revise, and writers who don’t yet understand a topic well enough to make a compelling argument about it, but there are few out-and-out bad writers. 

What I’ve come to understand is that this bad writer claim is less a confession of compositional incompetence than a request for help. It’s a way of saying that 1) writing is really hard, and 2) writing scares the bejeezus out of me. These sentiments are not uncommon, even (or perhaps especially) among people who write a lot. As I’ve worked with students to overcome these challenges, I’ve found that my own understanding of writing has profoundly changed. The three most salient writing lessons I’ve taken from this experience are: 

1. Revision is Key. So many of my students come to college believing that they draft so well that revision is unnecessary (I confess that I shared in this delusion once upon a time). A significant portion of my teaching is devoted to converting them to the school of Anne Lamott: write shitty first drafts and revise extensively. As I’ve preached this particular writing gospel, my own revision process has expanded dramatically. I now devote at least as much time to revising as I do to drafting (and often more) and I’ve come to find an extensive revision process to be incredibly liberating for both myself and my students because it dramatically reduces the pressure to produce high-quality drafts.

2. Silence the Critic. I work with a lot of students who struggle to start writing. They’ll sit down, write a sentence or a paragraph, hate it, and delete it. They will then repeat some version of this process again and again until they either give up and go watch Netflix or the deadline forces them to accept work that they hate. I’ve found that silencing this inner critic by forbidding deleting anything during the drafting process (after all you’ll come back and revise it, right?) goes a long way toward getting words on the page, a necessary prerequisite to producing any writing.

3. Write for Time. I tell all my students set time rather than output goals. Anyone can commit to write for two half-hour blocks during the course of a day and this helps to alleviate the dread of sitting down and writing out the entirety of a ten-page paper which often leads to procrastination and no writing at all. I’ve found that committing to write for a little while every day drives writing productivity way up and the frequency of late night writing binges way down. Energy drink companies will suffer, but you will prosper.

I’m convinced that I’ve learned more about writing from my students than they ever learn from me. Observing their writing struggles and helping them to overcome them has been the best part of teaching writing and has helped my own writing dramatically. It’s helped me to understand that, while we all have very writing processes, there are a lot of shared roadblocks and talking about them, sharing them, and helping others to overcome them is sometimes the best way to move forward with your own writing.

Photo by Caleb Roenigk: https://flic.kr/p/brNqFE

A Fond Reflection on Time Well Spent: Looking Back at Cirenaica 2016

By Tony Dee

Having spent the year leading up to Cirenaica teaching first-year writing courses, it was a delight to be on the “other side” of the classroom. Although in this particular instance, the “classroom” was a warm common area in a cabin (cannot stress this enough: on architecture and furnishings alone, Cirenaica scores a home run) and the teaching was a blissful break from my lectures on comma splices. Max Garland, poet-in-residence, had this magical ability to engage with our cohort on numerous levels—hard, theoretical, college seminar-prosody stuff—but made sure the humane integrity of the art remained intact. Discussion was both critical and generative, and I hadn’t spent that much time hunched over a notebook furiously burning through pages and wrist-strains since middle school (speaking of eras wrought with nostalgia and preciousness). Max was cheerleader and champion, scholar and peer; at several points he was also a park ranger (that was my second favorite Max) on a number of field trips, most memorably into the Wisconsin woods to behold Big Falls.

Despite the fast friendships, often, the best time was spent alone. The area surrounding the cabin offered many trails, opportunities to lose oneself if one was so inclined; had I conquered those grounds I suppose I would have taken advantage of one of the few up-for-grabs bicycles and rode into downtown Fall Creek, as one of my fellow writers did one morning.  I opted to go on a social trip to a bar in Fall Creek with several of my newest friends; from what I remember, we had a really, really good time. On our walk back up the hill to the cabin, we sat, laid back, and admired the stars, the moon, and probably discussed art, God, Her capability to create such a subtle spectacle. You know how writers are, yes?

Long days of discussion, invention, discovery, and revelry were fueled by gallons of coffee and some of the finest cooking I’ve ever had the pleasure to enjoy, and enjoying food is my passion if poetry isn’t. Chef Brent will forever hold a dear space in my heart as the mastermind behind cold oatmeal. Yes folks, cold oatmeal. Where creativity was being nourished, our physical bodies were being absolutely satiated. I’d say spoiled, but frankly, we deserved the delights if for no reason other than the talent and camaraderie on constant display during impromptu or planned readings, sharings, and workshops.

I now humbly submit, what could be a journal entry or piece of intentional writing, as my honest to gosh recounting of my arrival at Cirenacia last summer:

“Portrait of a writer in motion: vehicle peeling itself off the long expanse of yet another Midwestern highway that surely I would write a poem about after a day’s worth of driving. Well past Chicago by breakfast time, Detroit, Michigan, was time-zones away in the rear view mirror. My little car buckled getting onto a local highway, parts of which were dirt. One of the many talented Eau Claire bands I’d brought with me were quietly playing to the added percussion of anticipation and small stones underneath my tires. Clouds obscured the otherwise tremendous expanse of land that makes up the vistas of Fall Creek, Wisconsin. I thought back to my M.F.A. friends in California, trying their best for my benefit but just not getting the treasures our pastoral landscapes offer. As if to snap my attention from the often reviled throws of nostalgia and preciousness, a bolt of lightning punctuated the long sentence of a thunderstorm.

I’ll blame the torrent of rain rather than human error, despite my ever gracious hosts making it abundantly clear how to locate the difficult to spot entrance to Cirenaica; I had to turn around in the neighbor’s driveway, which was quite far away from the bold and blue letters announcing my temporary new home. A dirt driveway snaked up and away from the road, into a row of trees, suggesting what woods lie beyond. Through the clearing there appeared as if by magic the kind of cabin that would turn a person into a poet: sharp edges on a vaulted roof, logs and bricks, long windows offering gaze into our isolated surroundings. Rain pattered in puddles in the sloping lawn, leaves danced on their branches, and, fully embracing the (now) nostalgia of hyperbole, I realized I had arrived at a home like which I had never resided."

The stuff oozes out of me after the weekend of reinvention, hard work, and good writing. The details of my arrival are abundantly more available to me because, after being ushered in by an impossibly energetic and welcoming host (local Wisconsin beer in outstretched hand, I might add) BJ Hollars, the individual moments of the Max Garland Poetry Residency begin to blur. I’m positive I did some of the best writing I’ve ever done in my life; that’s including time spent in a graduate program for creative writing.

Two memories stick out most profoundly to me. First, the very same friend (from graduate school) who made Michigan-me aware of this little writing residency all the way in western Wisconsin, also heartily recommended visiting Eau Claire’s Pizza del Rey. Like I said, poetry and food are my passions. I was determined to visit this landmark. Not wanting to be anti-social, I offered to my new group of companions that, despite having just finished an enormous (and delicious) meal, I’d be going into town for some pizza, “anybody want to tag along?” Two full cars went from the cabin into town, and the rest of that tale is found between boozy and cheesy poems written in some journal, somewhere.

The second is bittersweet. I had quite a long drive ahead of me, so my last morning at Cirenaica was a short one. Hurried coffee, tossing clothes and books back into my bag, tossing that into the trunk, another hurried coffee, then goodbyes.

I drove away barely remembering the apprehension I’d driven into town with; if there’s a more likely group of friendly strangers than writers, I couldn’t guess who they’d be. Full of spirit, creative energy, and eyes fully locked on the rear view mirror well beyond the numerous state borders I crossed on my journey, the Spirit of Cirenaica, I knew, would be a constant companion for the many months ahead.

Until, hopefully, next summer.

Interview: Nickolas Butler

Nickolas Butler | Photo: Jeff Rogers

Nickolas Butler | Photo: Jeff Rogers

By Alison Wagener

Local writer Nickolas Butler's debut novel, Shotgun Lovesongs received international acclaim, a spot on the New York Times Bestsellers list, and a deal with Fox Searchlight. Raised in Eau Claire, Butler attended UW-Madison and then the acclaimed Iowa Writers Workshop before publishing the book, which contains multiple references to the Chippewa Valley. His second novel—The Hearts of Men—is poised to release on March 6.

This summer, Butler will return to Cirenaica to host a writer residency on the theory and practice of fiction. Details here!

We recently sat down with Butler to ask him a few questions...  

CVWG: The essential first question: did you always know you wanted to be a writer?

Butler: I think writing’s always been a big part of my life. I don’t think that I ever thought it could be my job maybe until I went to Iowa, and I started gaining a momentum, and I could see there was some kind of path for me moving forward. But I think when you grow up in the Midwest, the notion of dreaming of becoming a writer seems sort of far-fetched. So maybe even if that’s what I wanted to do, I never would have vocalized that.

So it just clicked for you sometime during college, you decided to pursue writing in grad school and everything fell into place?

I mean when I was going to grad school, my wife and son were living north of the Twin Cities, and I was commuting down to Iowa City from there. And it just felt like there was a lot at stake for my time in Iowa. What was my wife sacrificing for? Why was I away from my family if not to really work hard all the time? So I used my time really efficiently during that two years and was able to write two books while I was there, and I was lucky enough to get an agent halfway through my time there, so everything just kind of clicked, yeah.

Both Shotgun Lovesongs and your new book The Hearts of Men are set in the Chippewa Valley, the Eau Claire area. Is that you writing what you know best, or do you think it’s something more of a tribute?

It’s writing what I know best. This book takes place mostly north of Eau Claire; it’s in a Boy Scout camp kind of near Rice Lake. But it also ranges to Vietnam, to South Africa, to Botswana—so it’s kind of more around the world than Shotgun Lovesongs was. It’s what I know the best, but it’s also just what comes naturally, too. I’m not really interested in writing about anything else right now.

Were you a Boy Scout growing up? Do you think that played into your idea of what men should be?

Mm-hmm. Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, ultimately an Eagle Scout, so yeah, I was going to camp from when I was eight until I was 16 or 17… I don’t know that I could say that I thought Boy Scouts necessarily was instructive of what I thought masculinity was going to be. For me it was ultimately more about being a good person than a good man or a good woman. The book is interested in masculinity, but I think that’s sort of separate from the Boy Scouts. It’s convenient that the Boy Scouts are there. But they’re not the same thing.

I think I was thinking about masculinity from more of the standpoint of being a young father, and thinking about the job my own dad did, and the job that I have to do moving forward. I don’t know that Boy Scouts really colored my idea of what masculinity is. At least I don’t think. Nobody’s asked me that before.

As I read, it seemed like Nelson sort of became a paragon of masculinity over time, even though he’d certainly gone through his own troubles and his own transformation. I was just wondering if for you, is what Nelson becomes your ideal of what men should be? Does that ideal even exist?

I don’t know that I think about Nelson as a paragon necessarily—I think what’s good about him and what’s good about most of the characters is that they’re trying to do their best, and it doesn’t always work out. But they’re trying. The notion that he has some kind of code, or thinks about a code, is what’s most important.

And the funny thing is, like, people think about the Boy Scouts as like a punch line, you know? If someone thought you were a dimwitted rube, they might say oh, you’re such a Boy Scout: you’re not complicated enough to act in an indecent way, or something like that. Like, what’s wrong with trying to have a code? What’s wrong with trying to be your best person? And also, is that possible? What happens when you fail – are you a bad person when you fail your code, if you can’t live by it all the time?

There’s quite a spectrum of morality and masculinity within your characters. Maybe I was reading a bit too much into the masculinity theme, but the book is very male-centric, with characters who do and don’t try to follow that code. What do you hope the men in your book collectively convey about what it means to live morally?

My dad, who was not always a very good dad, shares some of the same qualities as Johnathan. My dad’s dad, my grandpa, was often gone on merchant marine ships. He wasn’t around for my dad’s childhood. And I think even when he was around, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do because his own dad died in a coal mining accident before he was born. So he had no exemplar. My dad used to tell me, “I’m not a good dad, but hopefully you’ll be better than me, and your son will be better than you.” So I think part of the job of the book, especially because it takes place over sixty years of history, is asking if we’re trying to become better.

Masculinity is a hyper-loaded word, and I never set out to make any sort of statement on that. I like to think about myself as a pretty sensitive person, and I’m raising both a son and a daughter right now. But I think the project of the book and of these characters is just to improve over time, to try and set a moral code out for themselves, and then try their best to live by it.

Can you tell us some more details about the release?

It’s coming out nationally March 7. There’s going to be a reading at Volume One March 6, so that’s kind of fun. By all rights, everything seems to be going just as well as it could be. We’ve gotten three-starred reviews from Library Journal, Kirkus, Publisher’s Weekly—Publisher’s Weekly called it one of the top ten books to look forward to this spring. It was nominated for the highest foreign literary achievement in France—this one actually meant a lot to me—it was nominated for another one of France’s highest foreign literary achievements by an all-female jury. It’s called the Prix Femina. It’s an award that’s always been selected by a female jury, so I love that. Made me feel good that this book that is kind of dominated by male characters was accepted that way, and I think they could see that I was critiquing male behavior, not celebrating it necessarily. So you never know, the New York Times could take a big shit on it tomorrow, and that would stink. But I wrote the book I wanted to write, and so far it seems to be going pretty good.

Cirenaica writer's retreat, Summer 2016

Cirenaica writer's retreat, Summer 2016

So let’s shift a bit. Last year, what do you think went best with your Cirenaica residency? Do you think there’s some things you’ll do differently this coming summer?

The one thing I was fortunate to have last year was a great group dynamic. We had about ten people who really seemed to get along right from the start. That’s really important to me, whether it’s teaching at Cirenaica or teaching at UW-Eau Claire, whatever it is. You need to make everyone in the workshop feel valued and feel comfortable, because it’s not about just listening to me pontificate. There would be no point in having a workshop, then. It would be better if it was just one-on-one teaching. I need everybody to be invested in the group, and I need everyone to be comfortable listening to one another’s criticisms. We were very lucky that last year went that way. I hope that this summer’s group has that same kind of camaraderie and spirit. In terms of what could be improved on? I don’t know. I thought we had a really good first year. There’s going to be air conditioning this year, which is a big step up. There’s gonna be a printer, which is a big deal. The first year, we were just trying to feel things out, like what is this space, how do we use this space, what do we need, what do we have? I don’t mean to paint too rosy of a picture, but it really was a nice experience for everyone.

Well it sounds like an amazing break from real life – you get to go sit in the middle of the woods and do what you love for a few days.

Yeah, and we had a range of talents, which I frankly think is good, because if you’re just starting off your writing, and you’re exposed to somebody who’s doing really good, advanced writing and exposing you to something you can strive for, I think if everybody comes in at the same level, then there’s more room for jealousy or petty bickering or something like that. I’m looking forward to it.

Have you thought about what you’re going to be focusing on yet, what you’ll do during the residency?

I’m going to conduct it the same way I did last year, which is basically that everyone gets a workshop, everyone gets a one-on-one meeting with me. Everyone gets a handwritten critique from me, and then I’ll just be around to chat. And I think sometimes a workshop is for the piece and for the person who’s being critiqued, but sometimes the most important stuff that a person learns is from casual conversations when you’re having a beer. How did you do that? How did you find an agent? How did you get published in a literary journal? Questions like that. And it’s hard to find a casual resource for some of those questions. But that’s what this thing is for, to learn how to break through and make your way.

Anything else?

I mean, I hope we fill up the Volume One store March 6. It will be a fun night, and then everyone is invited to go across the street to the Lakely, and we’ll have drinks afterwards. I think it’s pretty special that the release date is a day early, and it’s here in Eau Claire, which is cool. As far as Cirenaica goes, my hope is that at the end of the weekend, my workshop feels like they’ve created nine or ten new friends. That these people communicate with each other and move forward after that. And I hope that they get good feedback from me, and that it’s – I’ve been told that my workshops are very useful. We don’t waste a lot of time. The idea is to give you positive feedback right off the bat and then work with you about what’s not working quite as well. So I think people will come out of it feeling like they’ve got direction moving forward, and that they’ve also got a support group moving forward. And it’s set in a beautiful spot, it’s pretty cheap. People should use it.

Learning to Write, Again and Paterson

Alex Tronson (center)

Alex Tronson (center)

By Alex Tronson

Dear Past Self,

About a year after you graduate from UW-Eau Claire, you may find that your general willpower to write has begun to slip a bit. It won’t be for lack of time, (trust me, you’ll have plenty of that), but because you’ll be afraid. (Who was it who said there is no such thing as writer’s block, only fear?)

Maybe that sounds silly to you, Past Self, to be afraid of writing. But with time I’m sure you’ll come to understand that it’s a necessary hurdle in any creative process, and you’ll learn to overcome it. Which isn’t to say you won’t be writing at all during this time, but surely not as much as you once did, and surely not as well. Right?

During this time, you’ll remember your writing workshops, and how there was always a consistent source of feedback. You were never more than a few weeks away from finding out what was wrong with your work. Even if you didn’t always agree with your peers, there was still a supportive group of like-minded individuals committed to helping you improve your craft.

But when you graduate, Past Self, it will be intimidating to write on your own. Until you’ve embedded yourself in the literary community, how will you know if your characters are underdeveloped? Or if your narrative is too slowly paced? Or if your dialogue is unrealistic? You will find yourself asking these questions often, creating a disconnect between your ambitions and your execution. You won’t have trouble getting butt-in-the-chair, (again, trust me, you sit a lot) but you will struggle with overcoming the fear of writing a bad story.

All right, Past Self, allow me to pivot for just a moment to inspiration, which you already know we cannot wait for, but have to find for ourselves.

Sometime in the future, you will pinch your jacket shut against the cold (the zipper on our favorite jacket will be broken) and you will go out to see the new Jim Jarmusch film called Paterson.

The film shows a week in the life of Paterson, a bus driver living in New Jersey, with his wife, Laura and their English Bulldog, Marvin. Paterson drives around, eavesdropping on passengers—a pair of lonely construction workers, two anarchistic college students—and when he finds some time, he breaks out the small, moleskin notebook to write poems, though he does not show these to anyone. (This will feel very familiar to you, Past Self, just wait.)

As someone currently struggling with maintaining a proper work ethic, you will find Paterson to be exactly the kick in the pants you need to begin journaling again, which will then fuel your next poems and short stories. The film will reinforce things you once knew to be true, but had forgotten. That writing can serve as a reflection, an interpretation of the little things, the day-to-day moments and adventures that make us feel the most human.

Though maybe, at this moment, a film won’t do the trick for you. Perhaps a trip to the museum is in order, or a good and spontaneous conversation with a stranger or a friend. Perhaps you need only to put on a good record (try Otis Blue) to find some inspiration. But in the future, this film will help you. And though it may not be the classroom full of inspiration you and I are used to, you can rest assured that everything will be all right, because, Past Self, we will learn to write all over again, and that’s going to be just fine, as long as we let it be.

Sincerely,
Your Future Self

P.S. Oh, and you should probably start jogging again.

The Power of Poetry: How to Be an Advocate Through Your Writing

Rebekah Palmer

Rebekah Palmer

By Rebekah Palmer

When I was 14, I started keeping a composition notebook I used to write down everything I felt and knew about current events in the world. I had written about my day to day activities in journals before, but there was a different feel about this blue lined, wide margined notebook that housed thoughts beyond my personal experience. Suddenly my world expanded. I found myself writing about the September 11th attacks, the treatment of veterans, and other issues I wanted to advocate for as an American teenager.  

Several years later, while taking a creative writing class taught by professor Karen Loeb at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire, I started another notebook. This one centered on issues I had kept hidden in my heart in high school: sexual assault awareness and living as a single woman in 21st century America. 

The scrawls within those notebooks I kept as a younger person would become the rough drafts for the advocacy poems I used in my first and second books.

If you’re unfamiliar with the genre, an advocacy poem includes lyrics on causes, events, effects and news that lack adequate public awareness. Advocacy poems can be written about anything in the world that the poet wants to provide a different perspective on, call more attention to, or create new solutions about. 

How do you write an advocacy poem? Here are a few good tips:

  • Seek out resources that agree and disagree with your position, especially thoseabout how an issue is handled specifically in your community. This will help you garner better specifics and empathy in your advocacy writing. 
  • Attend rallies and events for the causes you want more awareness on.
  • Free write in a notebook exactly how you and others see, define and feel about the cause. 
  • Free write about the atmosphere and happenings at any gatherings you have attended. 
  • Write down personal memories and/or interviews from others that could help explain your stance to your readers.
  • When writing your poem, try to answer these questions: Is there a physical metaphor I can liken the way I see this issue to? Is there a rhythm to my feelings and thoughts about this issue, and what stanza form will make a reader hear my message the way I hear it? Do the words I have written down remind me of a certain smell, touch or taste?
  • Use your memories and the answers to these questions on your five senses to create a poem in which the reader can really experience your perspective on the issue you have chosen to champion.
  • Have other writers check your work, especially other writers who have already written in different genres on the subject you have chosen.

Above all else, never underestimate the power of poetry. Use the form to spread your voice far and wide. Be heard.

Writing Through the Excuses: The Story of a Writer and Her Cat

The cat in question.

The cat in question.

By Erin Stevens

Two months ago, I adopted my first child. Weighing in at 15.5 pounds of fur and sass, Murphy (or Murfreesboro if he’s in trouble), has changed my life forever. His adoption was a long time coming. The truth is, I’ve been a self-proclaimed cat lady for as long as I can remember. It’s not uncommon for me to receive one (or more) cat-related gifts for Christmas or my birthday, and it’s no surprise I’ve found and befriended multiple cats from the Uptown neighborhood of Minneapolis. 

What is surprising is the amount of time it took me to adopt a fur child of my own. Two and a half years ago, I graduated from UW-Eau Claire, packed up my things, and headed to the Twin Cities. The first question my friends asked was: When are you going to get a cat?

My answer? When I get more settled in my job. And when that job wasn’t working out? When I find a new job, I’ll get a cat. And when I did find a new job? When I find a better paying job and have a bigger apartment, that’s when it’ll happen. 

For months, I’d spend my lunch breaks playing with the cats at the humane society, but my visits always ended with me leaving, no cat carrier in hand. 

As I walked back to work one day, it occurred to me that my delayed entrance into cat parenthood wasn’t the only thing I was making excuses about. 

I graduated from UW-Eau Claire with a degree in creative writing, but with how little I’ve written in the two years since I graduated, you wouldn’t know it. Aside from a blog I updated once a month, I wasn’t writing much else. Similar to the whole cat adoption (or lack thereof) situation, the excuses flowed. 

When I get my first job, I can focus on writing again... 

Once I’m done searching for a new job/writing cover letters I’ll blog again…

When I find a less writing intensive job, I’ll have more energy to write short stories…

Because I love writing, I kept telling myself that it needed to take a backseat to the more urgent things that needed to get done (namely finding a good, solid job).

In short, with both my writing and adopting a cat, it wasn’t the right time. Even though they are both things that bring me a great amount of joy, they were luxuries that I didn’t think I could afford. There were a million excuses that I could come up with that would show the conditions and circumstances weren’t right.

After a while, though, I realized I would always have these excuses. There would always be a reason to not sit down and write the essay, always some excuse that it wasn’t the right time to adopt a cat. Too often we put off doing what makes us happy. We say the circumstances aren’t right. We say we’ll start on Monday. We say we’ll start doing what we love in the New Year. We put off doing what we love. The conditions aren’t always going to be perfect, but if it’s what you want, you need to make the conditions work for you.

So when I landed my current job, I started looking on the humane society’s website for my fur child. A few months later I came across Murphy’s profile, and I knew it was a done deal. The conditions weren’t perfect—he was at the animal shelter almost an hour from my apartment and he was also sick when I got him. However, adopting Murphy has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, partly because he’s adorable and I like him more than most people. The other part is that he’s actually helped me get back into a writing routine. 

He doesn’t put up with my excuses. When my alarm goes off at 5:30 AM so that I have time to write before work, I don’t have the option to hit the snooze button. As soon as the alarm sounds, Murphy uses my body as his own personal trampoline. It’s hard to ignore a 15.5-pound cat standing on you, especially when said cat moves his paw to your neck and cuts off your air supply. Additionally, when I come home from work and I’m distractedly updating my blog while watching Parks and Rec, he’ll sit in front of the TV until I refocus on my writing.

If Murphy’s taught me anything, it’s that the conditions for anything won’t ever be right. 

But now I’m willing to make them work for me. 

7 Questions with Max Garland

By Alison Wagener

Our “7 Questions” series has become a bit of a staple in the monthly CVWG newsletter, and in the coming months, we’ll be dedicating these local author featurettes to our esteemed and beloved 2017 Cirenaica summer residency leaders. 

Returning this summer to head our poetry residency is local literary advocate and poet Max Garland. When your audience consists of Chippewa Valley writers, it seems hardly necessary to give Max a formal introduction, but for those of you who don’t know, Max served as Wisconsin’s Poet Laureate from 2013-2014 and was appointed for a two-year term as Eau Claire’s Writer in Residence last April. He’s published two books of poetry, was an English professor at UW-Eau Claire from 1996 to 2015, and continues to provide us with accessible poetic commentary on a world that often seems just out of reach.

Over the holidays, I had the chance to ask Max about his writing, his work, and his reflections on Cirenaica for a brief but insightful interview. 

Did you always know you wanted to devote your life to writing and promoting literature?

No. I originally wanted to play shortstop for the St. Louis Cardinals, but Ozzie Smith turned out to be more qualified, so like many other mediocre athletes, I fell back on poetry. 

Who (or what) most influences your writing?

I think hearing hymns and sermons in childhood, then discovering later that poems were like that-- attempts to say something slightly beyond the ability of words to say. 

What was most memorable for you about your Cirenaica residency last year?

The generous range of experience among those who attended and how well the participants interacted regardless of their differing levels of experience. Also, I was impressed by the amount of writing the residents did. When I arrived early in the mornings, everyone was already writing, sometimes four or five people sitting in a large room, at tables, on couches, some outside, some upstairs, but all quietly working on new poems, or revising poems from the previous day. 

Is there anything you’re currently working on?

I'm revising a new book of poems called The Word We Used for It. I'm also writing songs and essays, and trying to figure out how to stay calm in exceedingly alarming times.

What do you hope your readers gain from reading your work?

I hope people feel something, and recognize that a poem can be a very strange and yet strangely useful thing once readers assume partial ownership. 

What do you find most purposeful as Eau Claire’s Writer in Residence? As Wisconsin’s Poet Laureate?

Poetry is not as far away as most people think, nor as far from the practical concerns of ordinary people. It's so important and potent we often pretend we don't feel the need for it. But try and find someone who hasn't wanted better words, more beautiful or profound language, and you'll be looking a long time.

What’s the hardest facet of writing? Which do you look forward to the most?

The hardest part of writing is granting yourself permission, and then doing it again and again until the habit is part of who you are. 

Photo: Lisa Venticinque

From the TC to EC: 5 Reasons Why I’m Heading to Eau Claire for a Writing Retreat

By Erin Stevens

I’m a proud resident of the Twin Cities. I’m also a proud alumna of UW-Eau Claire. Because of this, I’m often torn when I try to decide where I’m supposed to be. While I have many friends and a great job in the Twin Cities, my heart and my writing community are in Eau Claire.

So when I heard about the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild’s first ever Winter Writers' Weekend being held on February 4th and 5th, I knew that I needed to be there.

This might strike you as odd一why is someone from Minneapolis jumping at the chance to head over to Eau Claire for a writers’ retreat? There are plenty of reasons - too many reasons, actually一but here are the 5 that stand out most to me:

1. This retreat is unique to the area. Whether you’re from Eau Claire or the Twin Cities, Madison or Milwaukee, there really isn’t a program like this anywhere else in Wisconsin or the Twin Cities metro area. How many places do you find the chance to have a weekend writing getaway at a new, boutique hotel, with high quality writing instruction? Having lived in the Minneapolis area for a few years now, I can say I haven’t found any opportunities quite like the programs put on by the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild. This winter writers’ retreat is no exception, it’s truly one-of-a-kind.  

Having lived in the Minneapolis area for a few years now, I can say I haven’t found any opportunities quite like the programs put on by the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild. This winter writers’ retreat is no exception, it’s truly one-of-a-kind.

2. Quality of Instruction. As a graduate from UW-Eau Claire’s creative writing program, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to learn from BJ Hollars. While I spent some time heckling him from the back of a classroom, I can wholeheartedly say that his instruction is one of my fondest memories of my time at UWEC. My writing drastically improved through classroom lectures and one-on-one writing conferences, so when I saw that he was going to lead this winter writing retreat, signing up was an easy decision. I’ve also had the opportunity to work with both Jamie and Charlotte, and so I know that feedback and advice  from both of them will also be incredibly valuable. Whether you’re new to writing or you’re in the middle of your third novel, your work is in good hands with the folks running this show!

3. The Oxbow. I’ve been following their Instagram account for a few months now, and I’ve been dying to get inside ever since. The decor in the rooms and lobby are inspiring and inviting, and  the food looks amazing, as well. Not only is this boutique hotel a great addition to Eau Claire, but, by hosting the CVWG’s first winter writing retreat, they’re proving to be a friend to our arts community, which was enough to make me hit the “submit” button on my application. The cost of the retreat includes one night's lodging at The Oxbow, two great meals, a snack, a drink ticket, in addition to live jazz in the evening. What more could you ask for? (What's that?  You want a record player in your room and a vinyl lending library curated by Justin Vernon?  Good news!  You get that too!  Pretty cool hotel, right?).

4. Read and Have Your Work Broadcast. If you love listening to books on tape, imagine listening to your voice reading your work back to you. That’s exactly what’s going to happen when you sign-up for the winter retreat. Blugold Radio一the hippest station in town一will be at The Oxbow during our reading, and they’ll be broadcasting your work to the world.  How often do you get to start the day with an idea and end it with a public reading to be broadcast to the region?

5. Writing Community. In the big city of Minneapolis, I’ve found a lot of things. I’ve found my favorite coffee shop with a great, worn-in couch that’s perfect for tea, a good book and a rainy day. I’ve found two amazing independent bookstores that, between the two of them, I can find whatever it is I’m looking for. I’ve also found a great job. And yet, after trying a creative writing course in downtown Minneapolis and scouring the Internet for other writing organizations or groups in the Twin Cities, I haven’t found anything that comes close to the community that exists through the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild. The writers in the CVWG community are not only immensely talented, but they’re supportive and radiate positivity, which is unlike anything I’ve experienced in the Cities. This community alone is worth a trip across the state line.  

So what are you waiting for? Spots are filling fast, so click here and reserve your seat, today!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS! A special note from Guild Director BJ Hollars ...

Greetings Writers!

BJ Hollars

BJ Hollars

Inspired by the warmth of this holiday season, I wanted to take a moment to thank you for your continued support of the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild.  Thanks to you, the CVWG is now wrapping up its most active season to date.  This fall, we’ve hosted three standing-room-only Craft Talks, featuring: literary agent Erik Hane, National Novel Writing Month municipal liaison Aimee Johnson, and a lyrics writing symposium (complete with live music!) hosted by Max Garland and featuring Jerrika Mighelle, Evans Middlesworth and Billy Krause.  We’ve also produced a live, radio drama version of the 1938 classic War of the Worlds (subsequently aired on BluGold Radio!), as well as organized countless write-ins throughout the city.  In addition, we’re currently hard at work on two new major initiatives: a literary magazine for the Chippewa Valley, as well as additional radio drama opportunities for local writers.  It’s been a whirlwind, to be sure, but what a glorious whirlwind it’s been!

I wanted to cordially invite you to our final event of the fall season: “Joy to the Word: A Holiday-Themed Open Read” which will take place at The Local Store on Saturday, December 10 at 3:00p.m.  Please join us for cookies, cocoa, and the chance to share your favorite original holiday-themed work, or even work written by another.  (To ensure that all can read, please keep your piece to five minutes or less!)

In more exciting news, the Guild is currently putting the finishing touches on next year’s summer residency schedule at Cirenaica.  Trust me—it’s quite a lineup.  We’ll announce the schedule at the start of the new year, but for loyal contributors who make a donation of any size between now and December 17, you’ll receive a pre-announcement email a few days in advance.  It’s just our way of saying thanks to all of you who give so generously so that our events can remain free and open to the public. 

Our philanthropy philosophy is pretty simple here at the Guild: when it comes to giving, participation is our goal. If we all give a little, no one needs to give a lot.  And that’s all we’d ever ask for: a little.  Consider becoming a 5.00/month sustaining member and take pride in knowing that you have personally sponsored a Craft Talk to be enjoyed by all.  Or make a one-time donation and have the satisfaction of knowing that you have contributed meaningfully to our high-impact programming. Though you’re surely being inundated with many worthy causes asking for your end-of-the-year, tax-deductible gifts, please take a moment to consider the Guild.  Your Guild.  And let us grow it together.

To make your gift, please go to www.eauclairearts.com/donate.  Scroll to the bottom of the page and direct your gift either to the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild's Annual Membership or Sustaining Membership campaign.  

Be inspired.  And thank YOU for inspiring us.

Yours,
B.J. Hollars
Director, Chippewa Valley Writers Guild

At a Glance: Upcoming Opportunities to educate, collaborate, and celebrate

The Local Store. Image: Volume One

The Local Store. Image: Volume One

Where Songs Come From: A Songwriter’s Craft Talk

Whether you have a song in your heart that you just can’t seem to get onto paper, you’re a bona fide lyrical pro, or you fall somewhere in between, this month’s Craft Talk is for you. 

At Where Songs Come From: A Songwriter’s Craft Talk, three prolific local songwriters, Billy Kraus, Jerrika Mighelle, and Evan Middlesworth will share some of their songs and discuss the perils and pleasures (but also the nuts and bolts) of songwriting, using examples from their own recent compositions. The event will be held Nov 17 from 6-7:30pm at The Local Store and will be moderated by Eau Claire Writer-in-Residence Max Garland.

Calling all poets!    

As part of its year of centennial celebrations, UW-Eau Claire is holding a poetry contest. The UW-Eau Claire Centennial Poetry Competition is accepting submissions of original poems on the theme “Reflections on Education” from now until Dec. 31. Judging the competition is Max Garland, UW-Eau Claire professor emeritus of English, former Wisconsin poet laureate, and Eau Claire’s Writer-in- Residence. The winners will be announced at the 2017 Frederick G. and Joan Christopherson Schmidt Robert Frost Celebration of American Poetry in April, where they will then read their winning poems. Cash prizes are available for first, second, and third places. The competition is sponsored by the UW-Eau Claire Foundation, English department, and McIntyre Library.

Click here for more information on the UW-Eau Claire Centennial Poetry Competition, or contact Greg Kocken at kockeng@uwec.edu

Joy to the Word

This holiday season, treat yourself to an afternoon of holiday cheer, hot cocoa, and the company of local writers. On Dec. 10, The Local Store will host Joy to the Word: A Holiday-Themed Open Read from 3-4:30pm. Come celebrate the magic of the season and the power of words by sharing a favorite seasonal story, song, poem, or essay. The event will feature Eau Claire Writer-in-Residence Max Garland. 

7 Questions with Jeannie Roberts

Jeannie Roberts

Jeannie Roberts

by Alison Wagener

If there’s one thing you need to know about Jeannie Roberts, it’s that she lives on the bright side of life. But the local poet understands that everything exists in balance and moderation.  

Jeannie’s soon-to-be-released collection of poetry, Romp and Ceremony, highlights this blend of realistic optimism with a voice that’s lyric, lilting, and full of soundplay. Poet Bill Yarrow said the collection presents “A book for all those who admire the sobriety of ceremony and appreciate the intoxication of a romp.” 

Romp and Ceremony was slated to be released Nov. 11, but publishing setbacks have pushed that date out several weeks. Jeannie said she hopes for it to be available by January. There is, of course, a silver lining to this delay: Jeannie has promised to donate $2 per book sold during its presale to the Confluence Project in Eau Claire. A longer presale means more money will be given back to the project. 

Jeannie was born in Minneapolis and, in her words, has since lived a hybrid Wisconsin-Minnesota life. In 2007, she served as the interim director of the Eau Claire Regional Arts Center (ECRAC). She's also worked as a house manager for ECRAC and been a member of the visual arts committee. When she’s not writing, she volunteers her time for Motionpoems in Minneapolis and also runs her own freelance creative company.  She’s recently moved to Eau Claire after living in the Chippewa Falls area. 

When we sat down to chat, she explained that the photo featured on the cover of Romp and Ceremony is of a yard neighboring her old home near Chippewa Falls. The yard is full of unorthodox lawn ornaments, trinkets that Jeannie said her clean-yard-loving father nicknamed “putterbellies.” In a poem of the same name, she offers a humorous take on the different assortment of items people use to decorate their yards. 

Are all of the poems in this collection more lighthearted, more humorous, like “Putterbellies”? 

“There are six sections within my book, and the heaviest humor section is titled ‘Romp It Up!’ It’s lighthearted, there's much whimsy interwoven within the poems. The remaining sections include: ‘Seasonal Disorders,’ ‘Brighter Days Ahead,’ ‘Signs of Life,’  ‘Food and Other Phenomena,’ ‘All Life Shines,’ with the final section being ‘Romp It Up!.’ Each section builds to the more concentrated humor at the end. It’s fairly seasonal… In most of my poetry, I intersperse the light and the dark—which is life, right? It’s a combination. We have spring where there’s life and light, and then winter where we have the darker parts.” 

So how does the poetry in this collection speak to you? Why is this something that you were drawn towards, this tone that blends the light and dark? 

I enjoy humor. When I look at things, I see numerous sides to life’s situations. I like looking at the brighter, more humorous aspects of life. In this collection, I guess what speaks to me the most is its lightheartedness.  

Is that what you want your readers to take away, to focus more on the lighter side of life? 

You know, I do… In the beginning of my book, I include a quote by Hugh Sidey, an American journalist who died in 2005.  For me, his words encapsulate my book in a sentence or two:  “Above all else, go out with a sense of humor. It is needed armor. Joy in one’s heart and some laughter on one’s lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life.” That pretty much sums it up. If we can look at the brighter side, see the positive elements of things, that’s the takeaway. 

I hear you’re donating part of the proceeds from presales of the book towards the Confluence Arts Center. Why did you choose to do that?  

The Eau Claire Regional Arts Center/State Theatre has always been dear to my heart. It feels like part of my essence. When I was the interim director in 2007, we discussed expansion of the Arts Center or the possibility of building a new one.  Way back, the seeds of renewal had been planted. I find it really exciting to see the progress of the Confluence Project, to have watched them break ground. Eau Claire is such a beautiful city, a river town.  The Confluence Project, along with the new Confluence Arts Center, will bring revitalization and will showcase the area's beauty and rich history.   

So I know this is a bit premature to ask because you’re still in the publishing stage of this book, but do you already have an idea of what you’d like to do next? 

I am shopping around a new children’s book.  Recently, a small Minnesota press rejected it. The editors were so gracious.  They said they wished they could publish it, but with full-color illustrations it wasn't cost-effective for them. They also suggested other publishers I might pursue for my manuscript. I thought that was pretty nice, because not all publishers do that.  And I do have two new chapbooks that I have out to editors for possible publication, so yeah, I’m always working on something, and it never stops. 

What does that feel like – always putting your work out there and never really knowing what’s going to stick? How do you deal with that as a writer? 

I guess it’s just a process. Rejections are part of being a writer, and I’ve just become so immune to them. You don’t always get acceptances.  When rejections arrive, ‘Oh, okay, they rejected me, on to the next.’ I always have that mindset… I’m always writing poetry, and sending my individual poems to editors, and online journals, and to anthologies. Usually, I send out ten or more poems a month to different journals and magazines. There’s always activity, you know? And sometimes I’d like to stop the activity and just take a break, but that’s just not part of my personality… I live in the moment, but I would be living more in the moment if I didn’t have so many projects on my plate! But when you’re creative, as writers and artists know, that’s just how it is. You’ve got a bouquet of ideas in your head, and you have to figure out how to piece them all together. 

Is there a big dream project that you’ve always wanted to take on, that you’re working towards? Or do you just take your projects as they come to you? 

That’s a good question… It would be nice to have a big-name publisher pick up my poetry manuscripts.  Though, the bigger publishers are usually more interested in writers with an MFA degree in creative writing, those who are creative writing professors. I have an MA and have taught, but have not instructed at the university level. Beyond the big dream project, I guess I've always wanted to go back to school to further my education, to earn an MFA and even a PhD, to teach in a university, to be able to promote my books nationally, and to do poetry readings at larger venues.  However, at my age, I don’t see that happening because I’m realistic that way… But you asked about a dream, and that’s usually pie in the sky stuff, right?  So that’s what it would be for me.  

Dispatches from the Wild: On Writing, Trail Work, and Falling in Love with the Challenge

Rebekah Morrisson

Rebekah Morrisson

by Rebekah Morrisson

I am a trail worker. When I tell people that, I’m sure they imagine me emerging at dawn from a rustic cabin with sturdy boots, a flannel shirt, and suspenders. I take a sip of strong black coffee from a mug I carved out of a nearby oak as the animals frolic over to greet me. The smell of sap and morning dew sits in the air around us… Okay, okay, maybe they don’t imagine a lumberjack Snow White, per se, but whatever they do imagine isn’t quite what I and thousands of other trail workers experience season after season. We are dedicated outdoorsmen who wake up early to repair, create, or maintain the trails we all enjoy.

Trail work is tough. Let me repeat that: trail work is tough. It’s rugged. And it’s different wherever you do it. I’ve spent four seasons and 17 months doing trail work with the Maine Conservation Corps and California Conservation Corps, and nine of those I spent as a team leader. I’ve felled trees with a crosscut saw, slept wrapped in a tarp out under the stars, and lived in the backcountry without technology for three and a half months. There are other trail crews nationwide and some help eradicate invasive plants, some live deep in the woods, and some drive to a trailhead every day. They work through rain and snow and freezing temperatures because they’re committed and, for the most part, they like the work.

I used to think, as I assume most people do, that trails were formed by mere foot traffic. After all, prior to my time with the conservation corps, I’d never run into a crew rolling rocks, creating a reroute, or hauling tree trimmings off into the woods. Now, I know better. It’s been my life for a few years and I’ve fallen in love with it. The physical challenge of straining my muscles for nine hours a day at high altitude is rewarding, if you can believe it. Sure, there are times when I’ve thought about quitting but feeling myself grow stronger, hike faster, and learn more and more about the natural world are just a few of the reasons I’ve stayed in this line of work.

In 2014, I graduated from the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire with a focus on creative writing. Since then, I’ve been working out how to explain my experience in the woods through my words. In my first eight months doing trails, I wrote every day. Usually in my tent after everyone else had gone to bed, but occasionally on lunch breaks and after hammock naps on the weekends. Most of it was in letters to my mother about the things I’d seen and done and felt. I wanted to share my experience with people beyond my trail crews, to invite my family and friends to be transported to the moments I was experiencing. It seemed only natural.

There has long been a link between nature and writing. For proof, we need only read the works of authors like John Muir, Henry David Thoreau, Edward Abbey, Rick Bass, and Terry Tempest Williams—all of whom have long explored how woods and words go together. Sometimes a person's words can affect the preservation of nature and other times nature can move someone to words. In a way, my trail work helps hikers create an experience similar to mine and the pieces of experience they lack, I’m attempting to construct through my writing.

They’ve done it and so can I, but in describing anything foreign to someone, I know it will take a lot of effort. Writing is tough, sometimes as tough as trail work, but as I struggle to work on trails, I also struggle to write about it. I try to keep in mind that neither is rewarding without a struggle and the finished product is always better when I take my time with it. I’ve realized that if I simply explain how to hammer rocks to bits or what it’s like to eat trail mix every day for a week, my friends and family won’t understand the collective experience as I do. 

As a trail worker, not only are you sore and tired, but you scratch raw the four mosquito bites on your left leg, the two near your right elbow, and the bunch on the back of your neck. You’re annoyed at one of your teammates for crushing your last good step rock because now you’ll have to roll another one 30 feet up the trail. You rave about how great dinner was even though much of its “greatness” was a direct result of your hunger.

These are just a few short snippets of experiences I’ve had.  The others remain mostly indescribable. Though as difficult as both trail work and writing can be, I’ve found I’ve fallen in love with both.  And with a little more work and a little more time, I hope to one day have the words to give people a clear picture of what it’s like out here on the trail.

Finding the Strange Around You: Writing sci-fi and fantasy in the world outside your window

By Charles Payseur (above)

If there's one bit of writing advice that I've heard a lot, it's "write what you know." As a writer of science fiction and fantasy, people might think I just throw that tidbit out the airlock. But in some ways because I write science fiction and fantasy, my relationship with writing what I know is somewhat complicated, but no less real. The strange and luminous are not limited to far away planets or settings with dragons and wizards. There is magic all around us, and for those willing to look and imagine, there are stories there as well.

Now, this all is not to say that I don't like writing space operas and second world fantasies where the setting…doesn't really resemble Eau Claire, Wisconsin, or really any place I've lived. However, just because the stage is different doesn't mean that the experiences are galaxies apart. Feelings of isolation and longing that one experiences here, of being caught in between larger places as Eau Claire is caught between larger cities, are feelings that can easily be taken into almost any setting imaginable. Similarly, knowledge of rivers and farms and wineries and orchards is something that can inform almost any story, speculative or not. Some of my favorite stories take something achingly familiar and complicate it by setting it against a fantastical backdrop. Speculative fiction isn't so much an excuse to write the things that you don't know so much as an invitation to take what you know and take it out of its familiar context. Micro-breweries on Mars will feel more real if the writer knows a bit about micro-breweries first, and the Chippewa Valley offers a great many amazing places to gain some first-hand knowledge.

And that's not the only option. Bringing the strange and magical to Eau Claire or any other Wisconsin town can be fun and fascinating. Post-apocalyptic stories, for example, set here and written by people who know the area will feel more authentic than if a writer living in Wisconsin tried to imagine what the same post-apocalypse would look like in New York or California. Similarly, just because every superhero story seems to take place in a large city doesn't mean that a young person getting superpowers on a farm or in a smaller town in Wisconsin isn't interesting. Indeed, telling a more local story can be more personal and meaningful for writers surrounded by the world they're writing about because it gives them the chance to explore the issues and flavors that make their home unique, but in a way that is new and different, bold and speculative. Writers are tasked with combing through the possibilities of human experience and finding stories that will connect with and move their readers. This is no less true of speculative fiction writers--it's just that what is considered "possible" is greatly expanded. And with that added freedom, with all the nearly infinite options for setting and populating a story, sometimes it helps to start close to home.

And let's face it, the Chippewa Valley is a compelling setting, one with a diversity of peoples and perspectives and experiences and histories, all of which can lend to great sci-fi and fantasy. Want to tell a monster story about hodags rampaging through the downtown? Or about a troupe of local ghost hunters finding a bit more than they bargained for while checking out a haunted site in Chippewa Falls? Maybe Paul Bunyan is alive and well and actually a very good chainsaw artist? Or perhaps in an alternate history steamships fill the skies of the Wisconsin Territory in preparation for a very different War of 1812? 

The advice to "write what you know" is something I find very helpful, but only so far as it's not used as a chain, as a leash. Write what you know, yes, but also write what you don't know. Because in between the two is the gulf where art is made. Especially with science fiction and fantasy, there are countless worlds to explore, but that doesn't mean you should ignore the one just outside your window.

Bring on the Mass Hysteria: War of the Worlds reenactment set for Oct. 28

By Alison Wagener

We interrupt this blog post to bring you a special announcement: 

A team of writers, educators, and lovers of widespread panic have come together to recreate one of the most well-known radio broadcasts in American history. The group, spearheaded by BJ Hollars and UW-Eau Claire physics and astronomy professor Paul Thomas, will perform a live-action version of Orson Welles’ “War of the Worlds.”

The performance began as BJ’s idea to invite people to simply listen to a recording of the original 1938 broadcast. But Paul had other plans. 

"What I pitched back at him was that we'd actually do the radio show, not just listen to it,” Paul said. “And he typically enough said, 'Alright! Let's do it!'"

Orson Welles’ radio broadcast was intended as a modern day recreation of H.G. Wells’ 1898 science fiction novel War of the Worlds. The seasoned 23-year-old didn’t plan the show as a large-scale hoax, but simply as a Halloween episode of the American radio drama anthology series The Mercury Theatre on Air. The episode was broadcasted on CBS on October 30, 1938.

The October 28 reenactment will technically celebrate the 78th anniversary of Welles’ broadcast, almost to the day. But most people don’t know it was originally a Halloween show. 

“Orson Welles makes a joke at the end, as sort of a low-key joke,” Paul said. “He tries to diffuse the tension set up and he says, 'Well, this is the Mercury Theatre's equivalent of dressing up in a sheet and shouting boo.' So it was intentionally a Halloween show from the beginning.”

Welles presented the story as a live first-person account of what he thought was a large meteor striking the tiny town of Grovers Mill, New Jersey. But then, extraterrestrial beings emerged from metal canisters at the crash site. The increasingly panicked newscaster documented the night’s terror as the Martians attacked all surrounding humans with heat-ray guns and even killed a troop of 7,000 National Guardsmen.

The History Channel reports that the fictitious program caused widespread real-life consequences, causing listeners to flee from their homes, pray for their families, and in some extreme urban legends, take their own lives.

Perhaps as many as a million radio listeners believed that a real Martian invasion was underway. Panic broke out across the country. In New Jersey, terrified civilians jammed highways seeking to escape the alien marauders. People begged police for gas masks to save them from the toxic gas and asked electric companies to turn off the power so that the Martians wouldn’t see their lights. One woman ran into an Indianapolis church where evening services were being held and yelled, “New York has been destroyed! It’s the end of the world! Go home and prepare to die!”

But it’s likely that accounts such as this have been incredibly exaggerated. Slate reported in 2013 that major newspapers fabricated the hysteria, hoping to discredit radio as a credible news source. Either way, the broadcast had a lasting impact on American radio and skyrocketed Welles to critical success.

"I'm an astronomer who studies the planets, and for me, the Orson Welles radio show and the H.G. Wells novel that preceded it are landmark works,” Paul said, later adding, “Wells essentially mapped the history of imperialism onto what he thought was the most advanced technological civilization of the time, but was utterly powerless against the Martians. Orson Welles revamped that into a pre-Second World War version, where the power of the U.S. Army, Airforce, and all of our guns are totally insignificant.”

BJ has taken on the role of director, and rehearsals are well underway. Paul’s first step was to cast himself as Orson Welles, a role he has always dreamt of fulfilling.

"Playing a genius like Orson Welles is a real treat. I sort of hoped that sometime in my life I'd get a chance to do that,” Paul said. “I just didn't see how it would happen… I'm humbled and incredibly proud to be a tiny part of all this. It's just great. It's a hoot, it works dramatically, and doing it with BJ, that's just an even bigger thrill.”

The rest of the cast includes Rob Reid, a professor of education studies at UW-Eau Claire, Ken Szymanski and Jason Splichal, English teachers at South Middle School, and Debbie Brown, volunteer and event coordinator at WPR’s Eau Claire studio.

The performance will be held on Friday, October 28 at 7 p.m. at Volume One and will last for around 50 minutes. Before the show, resident Orson Welles expert Jim Rybicki will give a background on the filmmaker’s life and how the broadcast sent him to stardom.

Paul warned that public excitement for the event has been pretty high, but the Volume One gallery only holds around 30 people. Securing a seat might require showing up relatively early. Their plan is to allow guests to flow into the rest of the Volume One space and play the show over the speakers, giving the rest of the audience a true radio recreation. 

For those looking for a Halloween costume opportunity a few days early, attendees are eagerly invited to join the actors in dressing in 1930s garb. The cast will be dress in not only the get-up you would associate with those working at a radio station in 1938, but also the everyday outfits of the horrified characters their roles portray. Paul said he hopes acting out the drama so realistically will get to the heart of the iconic story: an account of destruction, fear, and helplessness at the precipice of colonization.

“We're gonna try to make it fresh. One of the reasons I wanted to do it—I mean you can't beat Orson Welles, you can't beat the Mercury Theatre—but I wanted to make it fresh and raw,” Paul said. “And every time we rehearse, that's what we're trying to aim for... It won't, I hope, seem familiar and easy to you. It'll seem a bit edgy. That's where we want to be, that's our goal.

We’re Starting a Journal!

Eric Rasmussen

Chippewa Valley Literary Journal Kick-Off Meeting; Thursday, October 27th; L.E. Phillips Memorial Public Library; 6:00 PM Pizza, 6:30 Meeting; Everyone is welcome! 

By Eric Rasmussen (above)

Supporting writers is not hard. Anyone can do it. Make sure your writer has enough food and water. Writers can get lonely during the day, so creating a community of writers will help them all thrive. You’ll need to brush your writer to avoid knots and excessive shedding. Occasional praise will also help your writer grow and succeed.

And, after meeting their basic needs, if at all possible, give them a place to publish their writing. They work very hard at it, many with the hope that they can share their words and ideas with the world.

The Chippewa Valley Writers’ Guild exists to support writers, which means it’s time to take that next step. We are going to publish some of your writing. With your help, we are starting a literary journal with a local focus. Its pages will be filled with fiction, nonfiction, and poetry from people with some connection to the Chippewa Valley, and we plan to work like the dickens to promote your work and provide something worthwhile to everyone – our submitters, the authors we publish, and the larger community.

We would be honored if you would help. We need everything. We need ideas, for the title (we like Barstow & Grand, but what about The Falsetto Woodsman?), for the submission guidelines, for the marketing and production and distribution, for all of it. We need people to read submissions and help edit the final product. We need your help spreading the word when submissions open, and most importantly, we need you to send in your work so we can fill issue #1 with the incredible quality we’ve seen over the past year.

Please join us on October 27th at 6:00 p.m. in the Eau Claire room at the L.E. Phillips Memorial Public Library for our Kick-Off Meeting and Planning Session. We’ll provide the pizza and soda if you provide your thoughts and opinions. Whether you’d like to be a part of the team that puts the journal together, or you have ideas you’d like to share, or you just want to hang with a bunch of folks about to embark on something cool, we’d love to have you.

There is nothing quite like the feeling of fostering a writer all the way through to maturity. By helping build an outlet for local creatives to publish their work, you can experience that feeling too.

Something for Everyone at the 2016 Chippewa Valley Book Festival

Lucie Amundsen will share stories of learning to raise chickens at the 2016 book festival.

Lucie Amundsen will share stories of learning to raise chickens at the 2016 book festival.

By Chris Kondrasuk, CVBF marketing co-chair

Mysteries? Historical fiction? Nonfiction? I like them all, which is why I belong to three book clubs —and why the Chippewa Valley Book Festival is right up my alley. I can hear authors of all kinds of books right here in Eau Claire and the surrounding area. 

From this year's selection of authors, I’ve already read a mystery book (The Guise of Another by Allen Eskens), one whose main character is an early Chinese empress (The Moon in the Palace by Weina Dai Randel), one that takes place in the South (Mudbound by Hillary Jordan), and one about the influence of being born to a mother in prison (Prison Baby by Deborah Jiang-Stein).

And that’s just a few of the more than a dozen that will be presenting.

I love the chance to hear the authors talk about their works and what inspires them, and that's what the Chippewa Valley Book Festival is all about. Barbara Massaad will talk about refugees and Syria at a Lebanese-inspired dinner at the Altoona Country Club; Lucie Amundsen will share stories of learning to raise chickens and sell eggs at L.E. Phillips Memorial Public Library; poets Rita Mae Reese and Ron Wallace will share readings with us. I loved Sandy Tolan’s book The Lemon Tree: An Arab, a Jew, and the Heart of the Middle East, and now he will be here to talk about refugees and his latest book Children of the Stone: The Power of Music in a Hard Land. What a wealth of diversity! I try to attend as many sessions as possible.

In addition to author presentations, there are writing workshops and a panel on publishing. Programs are held around the Chippewa Valley, and everything other than meals and workshops are free to attend. I know that I want to attend the cooking demonstration of recipes from Barbara Massaad’s Soup for Syria which will be held at Forage. I could meet Jack Mitchell, one of the earliest employees of Wisconsin Public Radio, at a lunch at the Chippewa Valley Museum. And I definitely want to try chicken with freekeh, a Lebanese inspired dish, at the Eau Claire Country Club. Lebanese food in Eau Claire? This is a real opportunity! 

At the end of the festival, I’ll still have a pile of books to read, but I know I will already be looking forward to the next year’s authors.

And not to forget the children. There are writing workshops, authors in the schools, and even an opportunity for aspiring authors to read their own stories. I’ve been the host for visiting school authors in past book festivals, and it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. The kids are so excited to meet the author of a favorite book.

If I’ve piqued your interest at all, details are available on our website, cvbookfest.org. The Book Festival will be held from October 10-20, and whether you live in Eau Claire, Bloomer, Chippewa Falls, Menomonie, Altoona, or any place in between, there should be a program that appeals to you.

Start your own pile of must-read books now!

10 Things I Learned at Cirenaica Last Summer

Local educator Ken Szymanski reads his work at the Cirenaica Writing for Radio residency

Local educator Ken Szymanski reads his work at the Cirenaica Writing for Radio residency

By Amy Renshaw

This summer, I had the pleasure of hanging out in a log cabin with a group of skillful nonfiction writers in a residency program organized by the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild. Over the course of a fun weekend, I learned a few things. 

1. It’s pronounced SEAR-IN-NAY-KUH. 

It means “siren of the sea,” according to fishermen from Uruguay. I’m not sure why the fishermen have a language that differs from people with other occupations, but I did feel pulled away from my mundane responsibilities to focus on writing. However you pronounce it, it’s an alluring concept.  

2. Everybody struggles with first drafts. 

Author and former UW-Eau Claire professor John Hildebrand shared early drafts from essayists E.B. White and George Orwell, and we compared them to the finished versions. Studying only perfected, final drafts is like trying to learn construction by only looking at finished houses, John said. The key is to keep working until you’ve built the best piece that you possibly can.  

3. Put more of yourself into your work. 

Nonfiction is telling the truth, but there are lots of ways to tell it. Bring in your own opinions, describe things in your own words, study photographs to get visual impressions, and make your work uniquely original. Even a biography that’s been told and retold dozens of times can take on new life with a fresh perspective.  

4. Provide interesting context. 

It’s the privilege of the storyteller or historian to be able to see the big picture. If your subject lived through wars, persecution, or social upheaval, spell it out. Talk about the location, culture, and setting of the story.  

5. Help readers to envision the characters. 

A few words describing each person who’s named in the piece can enable the reader to form a clear mental picture. If the person isn’t key to the story, don’t give a name. In a memoir or personal essay, remember that you’re a character, too. 

6. Recognize the value of feedback from others. 

Hearing what works and what doesn’t work from supportive people who care deeply about writing is immensely valuable. In addition to the group at the weekend residency, the Chippewa Valley Writers Guild website offers connections to writing groups in a variety of genres and styles. 

7. Read your stuff out loud. 

At Cirenaica, one evening featured a reading that was open to family and friends. Beforehand, UW-Eau Claire professor Allyson Loomis shared helpful tips. She suggested reading at a slower pace than usual, practicing ahead of time, and timing your performance (5-7 minutes was the target length that evening). Allyson also encouraged including a “potato chip”—one tasty idea that makes the audience think or laugh. 

8. Less is more. 

Most writers were urged to consider cutting out early pages or paragraphs, or even chopping off the ending, to focus on the compelling action in our stories. Preparing for the reading on Saturday night was a useful exercise in trimming the excess.   

9. It’s never too late to start. 

Some members of our group were from the retired set, and their stories were fresh and appealing (one person wrote about riding a bike around his Oahu neighborhood during the Pearl Harbor attack in 1941). We all have memorable experiences that others will enjoy hearing about.  

10. Cold oatmeal tastes a lot better than it sounds. 

Seriously. Mix uncooked oatmeal with milk, yogurt, fruit, and nuts, and put it in the fridge overnight. It could fuel your genius.

7 Questions with Jon Loomis

By Alison Wagener

Jon Loomis wants you to know that happiness is fleeting. But not to worry – in a few short days, you can simultaneously bask in the moment, look nostalgically upon your past, and celebrate your own impending and unavoidable death while reading his latest book of poems, The Mansion of Happiness. To preview his upcoming release, I sat down with Jon (albeit 300 miles apart and via email) to talk about writing, happiness, and the man behind the mansion.

Q: From the poems I've seen from your collection, you've spanned quite a lot of topics and themes, from sandhill cranes to suicide, from Reagan masks to Thanksgiving. For you, what - if anything - ties these poems together?

A: The human condition.  Which is to say, this book is a love song for the present, in which we are reasonably happy—or at least not suicidal—and not terribly unwell, and the children are doing okay and we’re maybe even, at this point in our lives, almost prosperous, but what’s looming on the horizon is not good, at all.  It’s global warming and ocean acidification and Zika virus and Donald Trump and heart disease, and all the horrors of our age bearing down on us.  So enjoy the moment, because it won’t last, and what’s trailing along behind it is going to suck, and if you’re lucky you’ll die before it gets here.  So it’s a cheerful book, is what I’m saying, about the nature of happiness, and what a fragile construction that can be.  

Q: Who would you say you write for?

A: About 20 years ago I was running a reading series on Cape Cod, and the first or second week of the series we had two very famous and engaging readers—a poet and a memoirist.  And just as I’m about to shut the doors and go do the introductions, a big silver Cadillac pulls into the parking lot and a guy jumps out.  He’s kind of stocky and he’s dressed for the golf course, circa 1978—plaid pants, white belt, white shoes—the full Cleveland, pretty much, and he’s smoking a big cigar.  And he asks me who’s reading that night, so I tell him.  And he says, “Are you sure?  I thought I read in the paper that this guy Jon Loomis was reading.  I’ve been following his work and it really gets to me."  And I said, sorry, no—it’s a famous and dynamic poet and memoirist—should be a great reading.  And he thinks for a second and says, “Nah,” and gets back in his car and drives away.  And I realized that he was my audience—the man in the white belt.  And he was not a guy who would put up with any bullshit.  So that’s who I write for, pretty much—smart people who may not be academics or other poets.  Not that there’s anything wrong with poets and academics—I just don’t care as much about whether they like my work.    

Q: How would you describe The Mansion of Happiness in one sentence?

A: It’s a cheerful book about the nature of happiness.  And death.  Two sentences—sorry. 

Q: Why did you feel compelled to write this collection?

A: After my first two books of poems came out, I spent about eight years writing novels, which is a very different kind of work.  But all during that time I knew I wanted to go back to poetry at some point.  Long form fiction is hard—it requires lengthy stretches of one’s full attention—you have to keep the whole thing in your head, and there are a lot of moving parts—and I found that after three novels I was kind of exhausted by the process.  Poems are hard, too—they’re fussier in their obsessions—but you can work on them in shorter bursts.  Perfect for someone like me, who has terrible adult ADD.

Q: Mortality is at the forefront of many of your poems, but your tone towards the subject shifts a lot throughout the collection: the feeling of desperation in "Sandhill Cranes in Migration," the blind optimism of "Thanksgiving," and the solemn peacefulness of "If I Come Back." What was your reasoning in presenting these different approaches? 

A: Well, I’m not sure I’d call “Thanksgiving” an optimistic poem—those white sails are headed our way.  But yeah—I think as a whole the collection is pretty dark, though that gets mixed up with a certain amount of manic hilarity at times.  It’s about doing the police in different voices.  Bonus points if you get the reference.

Q: Out of the collection, would you say you have a favorite poem? Which one, and why?

A: I’m not sure I have a favorite.  My wife likes “When the Rapture Came,” which works for me.

Q: What do you want your readers to take away from The Mansion of Happiness?

A: Attention to the moment.  A brief period of putting down your phone, maybe, and seeing what’s around you.  Being happy with what you’ve got, because it’s probably not going to get any better than this.  A blend of appreciation and moderate pessimism, I guess.

Mark your calendars! Author Jon Loomis will be hosting a reading and book release for The Mansion of Happiness at the Volume One Gallery on Sept. 16 at 7 p.m. More details about the event can be found here. If you miss the release, be sure to pick up a copy at The Local Store or the UW-Eau Claire bookstore. 

For more information about Jon Loomis and The Mansion of Happiness, please see these two wonderful articles published by Volume One and the Leader-Telegram.