San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
A seasoned author’s path to creating
Early in her new book of advice for writers, Susan Griffin, the successful Berkeley author, describes creative work as a near-hallowed pursuit. The “inexpressible magic by which something comes from nothing” is at once “a miracle” and a “conjuring act,” the prolific “radical eco-feminist” writes in “Out of Silence, Sound. Out of Nothing, Something.” This sounds quasimystical — and distant from the lives of us earthbound readers.
Fortunately, Griffin’s rhetorical throat-clearing soon gives way to insightful suggestions culled from 50 years “of teaching writers and those who wish to write.” The latter group will find her book, with its nutsand-bolts tips on establishing a routine and overcoming selfdoubt, particularly useful.
But even established writers should be interested in Griffin’s views on inspiration and persistence. She has published about 20 books, among them “A Chorus of Stones: The Private Life of War,” a Pulitzer Prize finalist.
Notwithstanding her talk of magic and miracles, Griffin is a notably practical guide. No aspect of her work is too minor to mention, and when she drops the name of a famous friend, it serves her larger purpose: to explain what it takes to craft a good short story, a publishable poem or even a book.
So how does a would-be writer choose a subject? One way is “to pay attention to your own attention,” Griffin writes. Allow yourself to slip into “waking dream(s),” wherein “a fleeting observation” or “a compelling dream” might reveal itself as an idea for a story or an essay. Or perhaps pick the “idea or place, person or
OUT OF SILENCE, SOUND. OUT OF NOTHING, SOMETHING.: A WRITER’S GUIDE
By Susan Griffin (Counterpoint; 256 pages; $17.95) Books Inc. presents Susan Griffin: 7 p.m. Wednesday, Jan. 18. Free. 1491 Shattuck Ave., Berkeley. www.booksinc.net
event” to which your mind frequently turns, then write some ideas on scrap paper: “This way you can avoid the pressure that comes from seeing your first attempt unfold in neat type on a screen.”
Her advice on routine is direct and implementable. Establish a space “devoted to your work and no other task.” Be there on a regular schedule. Start with small blocks of time. “If you keep showing up,” she writes, “eventually what you are seeking will show up too.”
Recalling how she “felt daunted by the task of completing” her first book, Griffin quotes her friend Adrienne Rich. “You don’t write a book,” Rich said to Griffin, “you write a paragraph, or a page.”
Elsewhere, Griffin offers
handy suggestions on writing painful personal stories, combating writer’s block and finding a fictional character’s voice. There are useful bits on “bridge” sentences — which deliver the reader from one idea to another — and finding suitable endings.
In a handful of short but engaging autobiographical sections, Griffin recalls her earliest days as a writer, when she learned about “the music of language” by reading Charles Dickens out loud, discovered free verse and worked at Ramparts, the legendary Menlo Park-based progressive magazine.
Griffin says detective novels, with their “logical deductions” and forward momentum, remind us that “chronology is usually reliable as a way to order whatever you write.” Agatha Christie, for one, “did not always know who committed the murder” when she began a book. The important details coalesced as she wrote.
That sort of thing rarely happens without preparation. Griffin’s book is an excellent place to start.