Thursday, January 25, 2024

Sophie McManus's Informal List of Words and Phrases to Cut

 

Sophie McManus's Informal List of Words and Phrases to Cut

that

it seems

sort of

oh

even

even still/even as

still

or not

seem to/seems to

ah

and so

just

very

somewhat

somehow

at all

of course

especially

all right

little

small

world (often in overwrought sentences)

big

actually

certainly

tries to _____

for a long time

for a short time

only just

Because (starting sentence)

really

a bit

only

It was (starting sentence)

must have

all

very first (=first)

So/For/And (starting sentence)

sometimes

usually

anymore

some

suddenly

sudden

it. (ending sentence)

It (starting sentence)

and then

I know

you know

ever (e.g., "ever known")

then

thing/s

also

thing/s (if specific object)

such a

exact same

wondering

wandering

Wednesday, January 24, 2024

4 - Style - week 2

 Objective

In other parts of the Specialization, exercises focus more narrowly on one or another aspect of the story as a form. Meantime, this short assignment should help dispel any notions you may have that the ability to compose a piece of fiction is some kind of mystic gift. Of course, we can hope to improve them, but just getting one on the page does not require an advanced degree. We all tell stories all the time. Just write one. It will be fun, and it will be agony.

Assignment

Write a short story, complete with beginning, middle, end, characters, setting, plot, the whole shebang—in approximately 600 words. For reasons I’ll explain later, it’s important to keep it very close to 600 words, not much more, or much less.

Focus on writing with nouns and verbs—with people and things and what they do. Remember that a story at its basis is an imitation of action. Convey that action on the page with nouns and verbs.


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The kid was sobbing; the tears ran down to his cheeks. The cheeks were red and hot. He could feel the cold tears evaporating themselves at the touch of his cheeks. The grandma hugged her only grandchild and spin he to her. The brothers and sisters were carrying the first coffin. The mother, also known as the witch who healed all, had a body visible enough to see her face. The kid was unable to see his mother with a scar above her head. It was small but etched strongly in the boy's mind. The father was unrecognizable, the tall and strong man, the wizard of many politicians and businessmen, the master of reality. The grandpa cast a spell to change the form of his son-in-law. His grandson did not deserve to bear the image of his father, even in death.

After the funeral and back home, the family and friends wanted to have a reunion. The grandpa let them be and do something in the house of their daughter and son-in-law. However, Mister Maciel and Grandma Lala took their grandson back to their own home. Grandma was furious, a master in clairvoyance, unable to see the future, unable to provide for her daughter. The grandchild went to their grandparents' bed and fell asleep.

The grandpa sat at the kitchen table, and Grandma walked from the dorm with her hands on her chest.

— We can still bring them back. I can ask for bodies. We can explain to Hodas. He will surely accept and provide some blood. You and I can provide the rest of the blood. A call from past and future. I can acquire a body. The assistant of the president told me…

— NO, WOMAN! NO. I won’t make my own daughter a zombie, and that man had become a son of my own. He was a dumb boy who loved our daughter like no one else. We don’t kill, and we do not bargain with death. You know these family rules. It is our command...

— IT IS MY DAUGHTER! I do not even need you; I can easily send for her soul and find a recipe. It is mine. It is his mother. Our stupid commands. What good do they have? I can summon angels and demons. They will bring my daughter back.

The grandpa took his hand to his chest and started crying. The grandmother was furious and raised her hand to the air. She had a solution. He was destroyed. She was too but did not accept.

— Lala. Please. Please. All our family legacy will be it. My mother and father stopped being the guardians of this family after the death of Jazz. You and I are too weak, and if we lose the rest of time or power in trying to bring them back, we are not going to provide for him. He needs us.

The grandma was about to cry. She went from the kitchen into the living room and threw herself onto the brown couch. The woman knew that this was all. She now needs to become a mother to a little boy. The role of grandma just disappeared next to her daughter.

— Maciel. We need to train him. Normally, parents teach magic to their sons.

— We need to be there for him, even if he decides to stop our traditions.The kid was sobbing; the tears ran down to his cheeks. The cheeks were red and hot. He could feel the cold tears evaporating themselves at the touch of his cheeks. The grandma hugged her only grandchild and spun him around. The brothers and sisters were carrying the first coffin. The mother, also known as the witch who healed all, had a body visible enough to see her face. The kid was unable to see his mother with a scar above her head. It was small but etched strongly in the boy's mind. The father was unrecognizable, the tall and strong man, the wizard of many politicians and businessmen, the master of reality. The grandpa cast a spell to change the form of his son-in-law. His grandson did not deserve to bear the image of his father, even in death. After the funeral and back home, the family and friends wanted to have a reunion. The grandpa let them be and do something in the house of their daughter and son-in-law. However, Mister Maciel and Grandma Lala took their grandson back to their own home. Grandma was furious, a master in clairvoyance, unable to see the future, unable to provide for her daughter. The grandchild went to their grandparents' bed and fell asleep. The grandpa sat at the kitchen table, and Grandma walked from the dorm with her hands on her chest. — We can still bring them back. I can ask for bodies. We can explain to Hodas. He will surely accept and provide some blood. You and I can provide the rest of the blood. A call from past and future. I can acquire a body. The assistant of the president told me… — NO, WOMAN! NO. I won’t make my own daughter a zombie, and that man had become a son of my own. He was a dumb boy who loved our daughter like no one else. We don’t kill, and we do not bargain with death. You know these family rules. It is our command... — IT IS MY DAUGHTER! I do not even need you; I can easily send for her soul and find a recipe. It is mine. It is his mother. Our stupid commands. What good do they have? I can summon angels and demons. They will bring my daughter back. The grandpa took his hand to his chest and started crying. The grandmother was furious and raised her hand to the air. She had a solution. He was destroyed. She was too but did not accept. — Lala. Please. Please. All our family legacy will be it. My mother and father stopped being the guardians of this family after the death of Jazz. You and I are too weak, and if we lose the rest of time or power in trying to bring them back, we are not going to provide for him. He needs us. The grandma was about to cry. She went from the kitchen into the living room and threw herself onto the brown couch. The woman knew that this was all. She now needs to become a mother to a little boy. The role of grandma just disappeared next to her daughter. — Maciel. We need to train him. Normally, parents teach magic to their sons. — We need to be there for him, even if he decides to stop our traditions.

 

 

Monday, January 22, 2024

4 - Style - Week 1

 Objective

Artists learn to draw and thereby to learn to see. That’s what this exercise is about. Learning to draw with language and thereby to perceive more vividly.

Assignment

This is a simple exercise with a simple emphasis: writing with your five senses.

Write a three-paragraph description of a person or a place. Show the reader what it looks like, smells like, feels like, sounds like, even tastes like.

Try to put pressure on every word, every phrase. Make every sentence meaningful, sensible, and clear.


-------------------------------

Always chewing gum that tasted like spearmint, he really loved everything related to nature. His favorite perfume smells like dark wood. Skinny in size, with an average height above 1.75 meters. In case you arrive at his house, music will always be heard from outside. He loves the sound of the bass and the drums. The house feels like that of an old lady. He has a beautiful garden. His hands are stubborn and a little rough from all the work he constantly does. He never has a beard, always a clean face with short, long brown hair. He normally ties it into a small ponytail and brushes his hair backward. The long face makes him look older, but his dressing gives away his real age. A single 22-year-old man.

He loves to wear blue and black T-shirts without any drawings or logos. He wears on the jeans weekends, and during the week at work, he is always in white shirts and dress pants. He has the same white shirts but different pants to go to work. On Fridays, he always wears his white tennis shoes, which he only uses on Fridays. From Monday to Thursday, he wears several pairs of brown shoes. During the weekend, he opts for sandals or work boots, depending on the garden work.

He always speaks slowly but has one of those deep voices. However, when he laughs suddenly, he has a high-pitched voice. Some people believe he fakes the laugh or the voice, but since he hates smoking, we know his voice is natural. He is a very average or normal guy, except for the tiny difference of having purple eyes. The tone is dark, so in a normal environment, you won’t realize it until you are in front of him. It is something all his family has.


Saturday, January 20, 2024

3 - Setting and description - week 4

 I would like you to set a story in your primal landscape – meaning, the place in which you were raised. If, like me, you moved around as a child, pick the place in which you spent the longest period of time, one you can remember – which for me would be the post-industrial Pennsylvania city in which I went to high school.

There are so many different kinds of primal landscapes on this planet. We live in dry and wet climates, we live on wind-swept hillsides or in the middle of traffic-choked cities. Small town life is unique, but so is urban, suburban, and rural life. All primal landscapes are interesting to the writer who lived there because the landscape is part of who he or she is.

Your childhood landscape is in your DNA. You grew up listening to the accent, attending the gatherings, playing in the weather, being nurtured or alienated by cultural practices.

The list of writers who mine their primal landscape over and over again is long. Here is just a brief list of some of the great American writers who kept (and some of them still keep) returning to their most personal landscape, even if they also wrote about many other places.

  • William Faulkner, American South

  • John Steinbeck, Central California

  • Annie Proulx, Wyoming

  • Raymond Chandler, Los Angeles

  • Sherwood Anderson, the Midwest

  • Garrison Keillor, the Midwest

  • H.P Lovecraft, New England

  • Edith Wharton, New York City

  • Flannery O’Connor, American South


One of my favorite writers of his primal landscape, and of place in general, is great stylist John Updike. Updike passed away in 2009, but left numerous novels and short story collections, as well as hundreds of poems and works of criticism behind. He wrote movingly of his primal landscape – Shillington, Pennsylvania – in an essay called “The Dogwood Tree.” Watch this clip to hear one writer explain how his primal landscape felt to him, and why he kept returning to it.

John Updike discusses “A Dogwood Tree: A Boyhood” (minute 3.44 to 8:52 at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RApWC3Mn3UA. Note I DO NOT want learners to watch the entire program, which is old and rambling.)


Now, for your last assignment, I would like you to set the beginning of a story in your primal landscape. This is not a memoir, but rather a story set in a place you know deeply and even unconsciously. If it helps you to convert this story into fiction, be sure to write in the third person – he or she. You could call yourself “the boy” or “the girl.” If you write as “I,” it might be tempting to write autobiography.

You may use your 500-750 words to simply describe this landscape, no characters needed. Or, you may populate the landscape with characters. If you have already taken the course on character, use what you learned there to pick a character who is typical of your primal landscape. Either way, I firmly believe we are all highly influenced by the place of our youth. For better or for worse, our hometown is always our hometown.


Write 500-750 words. Let yourself go through the intense experience of remembering this landscape, its weather, people, its joys and sorrows.

Write hard, have fun.


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The afternoon arrived, and the sky was cloudy. The night before, the storm had started to hit the state, making it a peculiar summer for everyone. The summer of 2010 was a real cloudy and rainy summer. The school was already over, and kids were transitioning into teenagers, and the teenagers were experiencing broken hearts.

The graduation ceremony for the secondary kids had just concluded, and everyone hurried ran toward their respective families. We had all types of families. The one with elderly, old brothers and even baby sisters.

Our boy was talking with their friends and taking some pictures using his digital camera. Then he saw her and quickly realized that it might be the last time he would see her. Life was pulling them apart, and things would never be the same. He has always lived a city away of school and now will study at a more far away high school, and when you are fourteen years old love is one of the saddest yet strongest emotions in life.

The graduation was inside the school walls in the main hall because it was roofed. The school leased hundreds of chairs for the families of students. After the graduation ceremony the school leave some party music for students to dance and to enjoy among their families. After the graduation was done and all the party music stopped. She was still there taking some pictures with friends near the school exit. He was near her, just in wait for a moment alone the two of them. She started to saying goodbye to her friends and start to walk away of school.

As she walked out of the school, about to cross the street in search of her mom, the boy, eager for at least a farewell, flew behind her and shout her name.

Jenny!

With her back in front of him, she spined herself and responded.

You sure took your time, —her tone consistently angry as used to be.

I just wanted to say goodbye.

This is our last goodbye. Am I right?

Yes.

She ran to him and embraced him. The boy reciprocated, realizing in that moment how skinny she was. He loved that of her. It was a special day for him. He was wearing a new white shirt. She had chosen her favorite perfume, waking up early to straighten her hair and put a pretty bow hair tie. The both were dressed for a special occasion. A last hug.

While they were hugging it appear world stopped. No sounds from parents waiting for their children, no teachers or school staff, neither their peers. Everybody had already went away with their families. Nothing existed beyond that magical hug.

She began to cry against his chest, and the boy felt a sense of relief—he knew she loved him. Overwhelmed, she couldn't contain her emotions any longer. She was always proud of herself, but today was inevitable. She conveyed her feelings through tears, expressing what he longed to hear and see.

"My mom will be here soon. I wanted you to talk with her."

"For you, whatever you want."

She was simultaneously happy and nostalgic. Aware that this would likely be their last meeting. A few exchanged smiles and a final goodbye hug—that would be it.

 

Wednesday, January 17, 2024

3 - Setting and description - week 3

 I would like you to set a story in one of the three following settings:

  1. a hospital

  2. a foreign country

  3. a blackout

Write the BEGINNING of a story. The first 500-750 words.

We want to smell, hear, and see your setting. We also want to hear it written about with credibility. So you’ll have to do a little research – both functional and imaginative – in order to write this one convincingly. Don’t rush! Start by shutting your eyes and scanning the story world, just like you did during the meditation exercises. Then, try looking at photographs, or finding basic facts or terms that will lend your writing credibility. Believe me, with these two things combined, we will feel that you as the writer have experienced these “strange lands,” whether you have or not!

Remember how I said that a setting is also a situation? As soon as you place a character in a setting, you have a situation – a story. That character must interact – live or die – in that place and time. We all have the same needs to survive – food and water, shelter, a sense of safety – so how does your character secure those things? For this assignment, I’ve picked three settings that have inherent dramatic possibility. A blackout is not a place, per se, but it is a situation with physical parameters.

For the foreign country, if you like, you may write from the point of view of a tourist or visitor. You might want to pick a place you’ve visited in the past, but you don’t have to. Anyone going to a foreign location steps immediately into a dramatic situation. Use functional and imaginative research to create your setting.

We all realize that the traveller cannot know a land like a native. However, avoid out-and-out erroneous information, as well as clichés and assumptions about people and culture. Don’t write about a place in the way you’ve heard someone ELSE write about it. Imagine and research the place yourself.

----------


The respiratory machine was working perfectly. The squish and the splash were consistent, like a well-functioning watch. The warm light in room 507 created a peaceful evening atmosphere. The private room featured a large window with a view of the city, revealing a clear sky. Wooden floors adorned the room, and a small living room connected to the main bedroom. The bathroom was shiny and spacious, providing ample space for two individuals.

He lay unconscious in bed while the machine monitored his breathing. She moved a recliner next to the bed and to the right of her husband. She wore the outfit he loved: a brown skirt and a black turtleneck blouse. She applied makeup to be with him. In her left hand, she held rosary beads, counting with her right hand.

Maria. Madre de Dios. Ruega por nosotros los pecadores.

The night had just started when Ada arrived to relieve her mother-in-law, so she can have some rest. Ada started praying the moment she gets inside the room. She prayed for almost three hours when suddenly, the praying stopped. It was almost 10 o'clock. Ada started laughing, then sobbing, then crying; the memories of a life with him were too painful to bear. Tears fell from her face and landed on her big chest.

She became angry when she saw tears landing on her enormous breast. The fight they had about her desire for breast augmentation came to mind. Something he was absolutely against to.

You are mine, Ada. I don't want other men looking at you.

Your macho hombre attitude, I hated it. If you love me, you will do it for me.

She was angry because all the wives in the neighborhood and Alfredo's work buddies had undergone breast augmentation or nose jobs. Now, in the hospital, guilt made Ada feel foolish and superficial.

I only want you to wake up. I hate the hearing of that STUPID MACHINE every time I enter this room! Alfredo, you are mine. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve this stupid bitch.

Ada sobbed, taking her hands to her face as she leaned forward.

She was in a rush of flashbacks inside her head—love, sex, passion, laughter, joints, weed, parties, trips, and adventure. Ada and Alfredo's life seemed like something from a magazine. Constantly traveling, shopping, he provided her with time and money. They already had two small children, Sofia, 5, and Amanda, 2. During the day, she managed the businesses while lying to the girls about their father being on a business trip.

Caroline the mother-in-law, spends all mornings with her son while Ada works. They switched roles in the evening. Caroline taking care of the girls at night and Ada arriving to the hospital. At 6 pm after work Grandpa Martin goes to his son house and sends the nanny home. He manages the girls until granny Caro arrives. Ada oversees night shift. She needs to support his man and needs to cry alone, away of the kids. The hurt on his chest is overwhelming. She cannot long stand this neither one to.

By 11 pm, the nurse would come to change the urinal disposal bag. Seeing him in this state was worse than torture. The hurt in her chest was overwhelming. Just a week a go they were bouncing in the bed as rabbits.

The nurse at night is the same two days ago. Miss Frida a chubby but highly experienced nurse. She is constantly dress in all pink. She arrived for the pee bag.

 

 


Wednesday, January 10, 2024

3 - Setting and description - Week 2

 Read the stories “Forever Overhead” by David Foster Wallace and “How to Be a Writer” by Lorrie Moore. Both stories use the second person voice. This means that the main character is referred to not as “I” or “he” or “she” but “you.”

“Happy Birthday,” begins the narrator of “Forever Overhead,” “Your thirteenth is important. Maybe your first really public day. Your thirteenth is the chance for people to recognize that important things are happening to you.” Although the “you” here is very specifically a thirteen-year-old boy, somehow the story moves through the portal of the specific to touch a universal memory of adolescence. This “you” has a “rich scratchy voice” that moves between octaves “without any warning.” However, even the female reader is familiar with this scratchy voice – she heard it in the voice of boys growing up around her. A well written “you” is, in the end, all of us. The second person is specific and general at the same time. This lends the second person a feeling of intimacy, as if the narrator is whispering in your ear. As with Wallace’s beautiful story, the second person adds an allegorical quality to whatever commonplace rituals it describes. The boy in “Forever Overhead” is only jumping off a diving board. However, he is also jumping into the future, jumping into adulthood, and he appropriately frightened. Remember to read this story first.

Next, I would like you to write about a HABITUAL RITUAL in second person. Using the “you” voice, describe a holiday, ritual, or routine in specific and significant detail. Let the details accumulate. Let them be funny, sad, and honest. I am not concerned if your “you” character is non-fictional, or based on your personal experience. A lot of fiction is. However, we will discuss this exercise as fiction.

Here are some examples of possible rituals to describe. Feel free to steal one of these!

  • Piano recitals

  • Visits to a non-custodial parent

  • Thanksgivings

  • Valentine's Days

  • Going to church

  • Visits to the grandma in a retirement home

  • Your chemotherapy treatments

  • Your child’s birthday parties

Write 500-750 words. Work hard, have fun.



The 7-alarm clock starts. You think is another fucking day. Well, it is, but it is Friday. It is another fucking Friday. You know it will be a long day and you will be back home by this time if you are lucky. You go to the mirror. You see the baggy eyes. You hated but you just bought the last Lancôme cream. This thing is a miracle in a bottle. You take away your pajamas and open the hot water. You go back to the mirror. You see your breast. You think. I hope they can stay this firm. You love the work the doctor gave to you. You go to the shower. By 830 you are ready. You have put your make up. You are going to wear your brand-new boots. It is already 9 am. All the parents have delivered their kids to the kinder garden. You are waiting for the kids inside the classroom. You are tired. You normally are outside the classroom and say hi to the distance to all the parents outside the school. You are tired but you see all these happy faces. Georgina has a new haircut. You love her. She is your favorite because her mom is the best. Philip it is sleepy as always. He is already sleep seated at the end of the class. You are going to help yourself out. You are going to do some stretch exercises inside the classroom. They will wake up a little bit. At least 10 minutes. Maybe 20. You did not prepare material for today. You and they sing for 30 minutes. A new song that they will love. By 10 am you start drawing with them. It is 1030 of Friday. Kids will read out loud the characters of the play. It is 11 and they go for a small break at the yard. You always think the same. If I could only have the lifestyle, I deserve by working as a teacher. You also hate yourself. You think that you might have opened the bakery your sister told you or maybe learn to sell used vehicles like your brother. They still tell you to go with them in the afternoon at their own business. You know that you already like to much the alcohol. The 12 pm have arrived. The children will go back with their parents. The parents are already waiting for them. You see them going with their moms and a few dads. Dads always want to talk with you. You love to see how they try to impress you. There is one you really liked but he is broke. You know that a wealthy dad won’t have their kids at a public school. You go back to home to rest as much as you can. You have work to do, and the moustache guy promises are always to be delivered. Your boss wakes you at 5 pm. You are tired. You have sleep more than 10 hours today but sleep at separated times sucks. You prepared your bag. All your cute outfits. The lingerie that you bough from Amazon. It is an amazing outfit the nurse and Viking warrior. The warrior might be complicated to take out, but clients will love it. It is that the love children gave you today needs to be washed out before the love of adults arrive. The shower is hot, and you are actually relax that on Sunday will be the day off. The taxi has arrived. Taking the car is not an option. It is to risky. The last time you were way to hammer to properly see. At the arrival the Sr of the mustache was there. A little to early. Today will be a long day. He calls you by your fake name. Come Nina. He has rejected other dances waiting for you. You knew he was going to deliver. He has a big smile and asks you to seat on his lap. He is not strong yet. He will be drinking with you from 8 to 11. Then will pay the fee and take you to the same place. Being a hooker and teacher is hard.














Memoirs - Course 4 - Week 4

  As with the last, this is a two-part assignment. Think about a significant conversation that you’ve had in your life with someone (or mult...