Thursday, September 22, 2011

The use of sections


One useful literary device is sectioning. There are many potential uses for this. Sections can be used to build a story systematically, each piece adding to the one before it.  Sections can also contain scattered, unrelated topics that are drawn together at the end. Or they may be used to explain different aspects of a story separately.

When writing in my personal journal, I use sections whenever it seems like a mental break is needed. For example, if a certain part is especially weighty I let it stand alone so it can be considered more independently from the rest of the writing. Using spaces between sections is also easier on the eyes of the reader.
 
I will keep these things in mind when I use sections in my creative nonfiction. Putting a space in is a good way to signal to the reader that a particular part of the story has been resolved. The purposes I mentioned above, such as building a story gradually, are also good reasons for which I may use sections in my writing. The exact way I will utilize them will depend on the focus and type of piece I create.
 
A temptation that I will have to avoid is putting in a break simply because there hasn’t been one in awhile. It is important that every section be purposeful and self contained.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

CNF as a story?

The author has a direct effect on every piece of his or her writing. Even stories written from the third person, or set in a world unlike our own, or those that do not mention the author at all; these still take direct influence from their creator. The concepts of voice, perspective, point of view, and context, are all wrapped up in the author’s world. Essentially, you cannot take something from someone else’s mind and expect it not to have any traces of that mind on it.

When considering the definition of creative nonfiction then, it is important to note that to remove the author’s influence from the piece is impossible. As Kidder suggests, all writing is subjective. For many nonfiction writers, however, this is a rather difficult concept to accept. The traditional definition of nonfiction is a story based in truth. Just how much of this subjectivity can we allow to affect our creative nonfiction?

This question is something that affects me as a writer. My personal definition of creative nonfiction is a good story based on the truth. The term “nonfiction” suggests a certain level of responsibility to present the truth to the reader. From what I have understood from other readers, it is expected that if the story presented is not strictly true, there should at least be a disclaimer of sorts, explaining what parts were invented and why.

As I have read the example pieces from our text, I am beginning to see that the definition of creative nonfiction may be broader than I thought. Pieces like Grealy’s “Mirrorings” and Danticutt’s “Wesbury Court” fit my previous description of creative nonfiction. They are stories from someone’s past that are used to communicate, directly or indirectly, an idea for consideration.

However, more recently I have noticed other things that define creative nonfiction. One thing is that the progression of the story does not need to be chronological or even linear. “The Necessity of Poetry” by Simic, for example, relates a variety of the author’s experiences with no direct connection between them.

Also, my definition of creative nonfiction as a story has been challenged by Atwood’s “The Female Body.” This piece reads nothing like a story. It is divided into seven sections of varying lengths. Some of these relate brief instances, and others expand on the topic of the female body. I’m not sure how exactly this rambling, segmented piece can be considered a “story”. I expect that as the course continues my definition of creative nonfiction will continue to grow.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

The sharing of memories

People are continuously experiencing the present, planning the future, and recalling the past. The past especially, seems to draw our attention as something worth sharing with others. When past experiences are written down, however, they move to a different level than the everyday communication. They become something publicly declared, and fall into the genre of creative nonfiction.
Writing creative nonfiction involves taking something from daily life and presenting it as the extraordinary, which of course, all life truly is. As Kidder stated, the writer must “make the truth believable.” It consists of presenting a true story to readers in a form that is readable and enjoyable.
From the example pieces we have read so far, it can also be noted that creative nonfiction pieces tend to have a “point;” the quintessential “moral to the story”. The story is the form through which the idea is communicated. As with abstract art, the point of the story may not be directly stated. Instead, the message is inferred through the events within or the thoughts of the main character.
The reader must not necessarily focus on the writer’s personal view. This distinction is of “eye” versus “I” stories. In “I” stories, the author will play a prominent part, either by their role in the action or by lending their understanding of the action. The reflections on the story belong more clearly to the author themselves. In “eye” stories the author functions more like a reporter. The “eye” writer creates a window for the reader to peer into a particular instance. The role of the author themselves is less vital to the story.
Although, as Lopate argued, every story will communicate some idea of who the writer is. The author, in a sense, becomes a “character” in their story. As such, they should attempt to make themselves a good, enjoyable character for the reader’s sake.
In either case, the reader is presented with a story and asked, not overtly, what they think of it. However, what makes creative nonfiction a literary form, and not a simply a recorded memory, is the craft with which it’s formed. Details, so abundant to any story, must be painstakingly chosen. The goal is to produce a snapshot of the event. Because most of these pieces are intended for public view, they must be created in a way the audience would like to read. The subject matter should not be dull, the writing must be clear and concise, and the “message” of the story not overly strong. To put it simply, it must be written well.
Each life is unique and full of different experiences. These experiences can be refined, added to, and presented in a readable format. This way the reader can look at them with you and gain your hindsight. They can step into your mind and share your memories.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Grealy "Mirrorings"

The story “Mirrorings” chronicles the journey of Lucy Grealy as a young person with a facial disfigure. The story is at once fascinating and heart wrenching to read, specifically of the methods that a young girl, then a young woman, employed to cope with the situation she was in. Throughout the piece, Grealy hints at the misconceived notions she clung to during different parts of her journey which probably contributed to her suffering.
“Mirrorings” is presented in nine sections. Most of these are about three paragraphs long. Although the story is not told in a strict chronological pattern, there is a sense of continuity throughout. Each of the sections develops a particular idea that is important to the story.
In the third chunk of the story, Grealy discusses her life when the chemotherapy ended and she first experienced a question of identity. She relates how Halloween was a favorite time of year for her because she could hide behind a mask without anyone's questioning it. Although Grealy does not state it directly, this anecdote of her childhood brings up the idea that of how her appearances related to her identity.  This concept is built on throughout the story. Grealy implicitly asks the readers how much they think their face represents their self. The person that Grealy became, when she based it off of her features and what others thought of those, was dark and empty and hopeless.
The author further expands on this idea in the eighth section, when the last of her operations was finally completed. The image she saw in the mirror didn’t seem to match up with the person she thought that she was. In the end of this section Grealy considers how she relates the deeper concept of self to the external appearance, and how they cannot be completely severed, no matter how “deep” the person. In the conclusion of the story, we find that she develops a healthier sense of self when she chooses to define herself in her own way, with or without the mirror. 
Grealy’s story impacts its readers with the details of her life and the horror that she endured for so long. The piece, however, communicates to its readers on a deeper level than just through the surface story.  She uses her own life to give insight to a topic that exists independent of it. The reader can reflect on the idea of their own self-identity by looking through the eyes of Lucy Grealy.