I remember the first time I heard a story told for a live audience. I was a young girl, maybe ten or eleven, not yet in charge of my logistical destiny. It was fall. My parents had packed me and my brother into the car to head to some kind of Halloween happening.
By Robin Lippincott, Spalding School of Writing Fiction & Creative Nonfiction Faculty
is my third attempt at writing this blog post, which gives you some context for
what follows. The first two efforts were completely different and unrelated, on
subjects having nothing to do with this one. Finally, I realized there was
really only one thing I wanted to write about here; it was so obvious that I’d
missed it entirely.
By Elaine Orr, Spalding School of Writing Fiction and Creative Nonfiction Faculty
I recently had the good fortune of a one-week writing residency at the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, not a long retreat, but long enough to crack open my novel-in-progress, roam around in it and warm it up. Anyone who has written a novel knows that if you leave it too long, it goes cold, and it’s frightening to go back in. It’s like entering a winter abode with no means of heat. And who knows if things have gotten worse while you were away. Maybe the furniture is shabbier than you remember, the cupboards barer, the wallpaper flapping off the walls. It really can be like entering a haunted house.
By Kathleen Driskell, Chair, Spalding’s School of Creative and Professional Writing
Here’s something I’ve learned. Nearly
everybody thinks they have a picture book in them. Another thing I’ve learned?
To underestimate the expertise needed to write a good picture book is foolish. At
Spalding’s Fall 2019 SCPW residency in Louisville, we’ll give our writers a chance
to explore picture book practice during our cross-genre venture into Writing
for Children and Young Adults.
By Julie Brickman, Spalding School of Writing Fiction Faculty
Years ago, when I was writing my first novel, I got into a new relationship. For the first few weeks, it colonized my mind and I parsed every word, gesture and intuition for meaning. One night, deep in dreamland, I got a phone call. It was Kendra Quillan, my protagonist. “Where are you?” she said, and hung up.
By Sam Zalutsky, Spalding School of Writing Dramatic Writing Faculty
This week, my “new” movie, Seaside (@seasidemovie on Instagram and Facebook), a revenge thriller set on the Oregon Coast, was released by Gravitas Ventures (@gravitasVOD) on multiple streaming platforms, including iTunes, Amazon, Vudu, Google Play, and Vimeo. For a while I wondered if Seaside would ever see the light of day so I am really excited and grateful to be able to share it with you.
Have you ever turned the last page of a good book and wished you could sit down and have a meaningful conversation with the author? I had just finished reading an advance copy of Three Ways to Disappear by Katy Yocom and decided to act on that impulse.
Writers tend to like stories about the way that other writers write, the processes and habits and superstitions and the curious little quirks that define a writer’s methods. And bound up with this interest in writerly process, there is also a related obsession with something less glamorous, less romantic: speed.
By Edie Hemingway, Spalding MFA Writing for Children & YA Faculty
If you’re at all familiar with the Spalding University low-residency MFA in Writing program, you know that the daily workshop is a fundamental part of the intense 10-day residency. Each student submits approximately 20 pages of a manuscript to be read and critiqued in advance by each member of the workshop, as well as by the faculty leader/s. Then, over the course of the residency, an hour of positive, constructive discussion is devoted to each piece. Although there are many other exciting events and inspiring aspects of the residency, I have to say, speaking both as a former student and now as a member of the faculty, the workshop has always been my favorite part.