Text and Hubris

Courtney and I took the opportunity of a quiet day to visit Micawbers Book Store in St. Anthony. I enjoyed wandering the small shop and picking from a nicely curated selection of texts. As I did so, I was reminded why these independent stores are such an important part of our literary culture. It’s not because they sell books. There are a myriad of places where the sale of books, in many forms, occurs. Instead, these small stores foster community and feed the connection between the reader and the author. As we made our purchases and bantered amiably with the salesmen, I felt a bit of that connection. It was something I sorely missed.

I was spoiled in Iowa City. Prairie Lights and the Writers’ Workshop made finding the literary community in that city a breeze and the fact that I was immersed in it for much of my time at college only made it even easier. One of the major lessons I learned in my time there was that great writers come from great communities. We spend our lives learning from one another. Everything that I write is filtered through the lessons and techniques that I learned not only from incredible teachers but from fellow students as well. Without them, my time would have been sorely wasted. In a sense, I believe this is true of all art. It thrives in communities of people. It grows and evolves through rigorous discussion and critique. In Iowa City, I had that and more.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t stay there, forever. Now, that I am moved and settled in, I start again. I must find that community. My original plan had been to find it at the University of Minnesota’s creative writing program but with the move and the new job and all the chaos of the last year, that deadline slipped away. I may try next year, but I certainly don’t plan to stay idle that entire time. If I do get the opportunity to attend, I would certainly like to have a community of writers and thinkers already there to help me prepare.

Luckily, stores like Micawber’s give me an excellent place to start. Well, that and a wonderful collection of poems by James Wright and Colson Whitehead’s Zone One. Let’s just say that the visit was more than worthwhile.

If you do know of any local literary hot-spots in the Twin Cities, please feel free to let me know. I am looking forward to forging new connections and building community up here. It is always a challenge getting started, though.

So I have a bit of a confession to make. For all the fantastic literature I have read in my time, I still have a special place in my heart for those old choose-your-own-adventure style books. That’s right! I loved those crazy, stilted stories that paused at random points to give the reader a choice between two similarly misguided options that only slightly make sense in the larger scheme of the plot. As hokey as they were, these little books were more than mere stories. They were mazes of text. I would find one ending only to turn back to the previous “choice” page, carefully indexed by another finger until the very act of reading the book became a feat of manual dexterity. Eventually, I would find my way through all the twists and turns of the story until I knew every option by heart.

I have a reason for sharing this. The Iowa Youth Writing Project along with the generous support of Public Space One is transforming the whole concept of the choose-your-own-adventure novel into a performance workshop for children ages 8-11. You read that right. This is a performance workshop. This means that the kids will not only get to craft the script and the many choices available in the plot, they will also get a chance to perform that script for their friends and family in special culminating event. It almost makes me wish I was a kid again!

I wrote my first choose your own adventure story when I was in the fourth grade which is right in the sweet spot for the ages the IYWP is hoping to help. I remember that I even drew pictures, a practice I studiously avoided due to lack of talent, to help make the text more accessible. It was the first time I was proud of something of something I wrote. I can still remember the strange sense of trepidation I felt when I turned the paper in to the teacher. I still feel it today when I send in a piece to a potential publisher. Unfortunately, she didn’t like the piece nearly as much as I had hoped. She considered it “mere plagiarism” (It wasn’t and that little 4th grader in me still screams at the accusation!) and handed it back without a grade. I remember walking away in a hazy blur as the tears threatened to spill. I was devastated.

Luckily, I had a family there to help nurture my wounded creative spirit and my own stubborn nature to drive me forward. I am pleased to know that, for children in Iowa, that support runs even deeper. Not only can they turn to their family for support but they can also look to organizations like the Iowa Youth Writing Project and Public Space One to inspire and encourage their creativity and their confidence in their own vision and creation. If you have kids in the age range, go sign up! Otherwise, offer the IYWP your support in terms of a donation (all classes are priced as “pay what you can” so your donations help!) or through volunteering.

The choice, as you might have guessed, is yours!

*Note: The book from the image above can (and should) be bought here.

I haven’t had a chance to read his book, yet. I am hoping to get it done this weekend. In any event, I do plan to be at this reading. Come early,though, it will be packed!

September 29, 2011 – 7:00pm
Iowa City Public Library
Neal Stephenson

In a special event co-sponsored by The Iowa City Public Library, Prairie Lights brings Science Fiction Writer Neal Stephenson to read from his new novel, Reamde.

Linked from the Iowa City Public Library

A quick addendum to my last post. I do not think the novel as a form is going away. That would be—to put it mildly — silly. What I am saying is that we to have an ever increasing array of ways to tell a story. Conversely, we have an equally increasing number of ways in which to experience a story. This should be a cause for publishers and authors to celebrate not mourn. I would hope that we all know that the supposed death of the industry is—as I already mentioned —very silly. Rather than panicking and fearing the 99 cent novel or whatever comes next in the long line of tech scare fads, laugh, write, create and be glad there are so many ways to share your story.