The quote of the week for the teens in my creative writing classes comes from Canadian YA author, Judy I. Lin:
“Ideas can be a very small spark, then they marinate.”
This week, I attended an event at Iron Dog Books where YA author Nafiza Azad interviewed Judy I. Lynn about her new book, Song of the Six Realms.
I made note of the above quote because I think my students sometimes think we need BIG ideas to get started.
But anyone who has been to one of my workshops or listened to me talk on the subject knows that I believe in the power of the slow drizzle over the lightning bolt—or as Judy I. Lin says, the marinating process. We tend to think quick and flashy is better, but one of the reasons I love attending author talks is because I get insight into how the creative mind works. And, it seems to me, that most ideas take a long time before they’re ready to be put into the oven!
Looking forward to reading Song of the Six Realms! Isn’t the cover beautiful?
The quote of the week for the teens in my creative writing classes:
“There’s no such thing as perfect writing.”
Haruki Murakami
Does this sentiment motivate you as a writer? Or depress you? Personally, I think most artists are in search of perfection, but it’s the quest that’s more important than the result. So, I hope my students will find Murakami’s words motivating!
I always think a lot about the process of creativity, but this year particularly so. That’s because I’ve been doing a lot of reflection about my various experiences in the classroom—this Spring has been a bit of a tour for me, speaking at various conferences on the subject. There have been some career talks, parent conferences, and professional development days for teachers, librarians, and literacy educators. I love talking craft!
The quote of the week for the teens in my creative writing classes is from stop-motion animator Phil Tippett. I amended it for the graphic; here is a longer version:
“What I recently figured out is I’ve always had depression and anxiety. The anxiety would come…just like a storm…I realized if I made stuff, and get out of my mind…the storm would just go away…The key therapy that I think that has helped me is that I’m very process driven.”
This is from the documentary Light and Magic, about the early days of visual effects studio ILM. My son wanted to know how they did the Imperial Walkers in the old Star Wars films, so that led us to the doc.
I found the human side of the story to be just as compelling (if not more) than the technical achievements of the company. In particular, Phil Tippett’s perspectives really caught my attention. I think creative health is linked strongly to mental health, and I think what he’s emphasizing is this: When in doubt, create stuff!
Many of my students resist this—they want to get on with the work of the “product,” the final thing they are trying to make, even when they hit a dead-end and are feeling stuck. Sometimes, changing our literal perspective or surroundings can really help. So can working with our hands or approaching a problem with a different artistic enterprise.
On a sidenote, the six-year-old and I ended up making a rudimentary stop-motion movie so that I could show him the process. A snippet of it is here (I’m in no danger of being hired by ILM anytime soon!).
In one way, it feels like a lifetime ago that I was on my mini artistic tour of Bangkok, but I’ve still found myself reflecting on my experience with the schools there. It’s also taken me this long to review all the photos! So, here’s a photo dump!
The first school involved a complete writer/artist-in-residence package, working with the same groups of kids over multiple sessions. This allowed me to introduce a “meaty” project that involved visual brainstorming, writing, and prop-building, something that could be sustained over several sessions. It also offered teachers enough material so that they could continue working on the project after my time at the school ended.
Even though I’ve delivered many residences in the past, this is the first one since before the pandemic where I spent several consecutive days in a row at a school. So, it was an intensive creative output—not only for the students, but also for me! I found myself so energized at the end of each day that I would often head back to my hotel and write in a frenzy for an hour or so.
Each grade was given a different “theme” to work on, which not only helped with some cross-creativity in the school, but kept me energized, so that I wasn’t simply doing the same thing over and over again.
Monster Magic (for the Year 3s)
For this grade, the theme was based around the idea of a character who visits a monster pet store, buys a bet monster-in-a-bottle, then takes it home to hatch it (incorrectly!). The project involved mapping out the pet store, writing hatching instructions, building the actual pet monster-in-a-bottle, and crafting the individual scenes of the story.
Spell-binding Shopping Trip (for the Year 4s)
I invited the students to imagine a character who has been sent to a magical market to locate one specific enchanted item—and then write about it. A big part of this project was imagining the market in detail. We mapped it, imagined food shops and services and brainstormed problems a character might encounter while exploring the market, such as having to barter or survive pick-pockets. We also built miniature brooms, which could either be the items the characters were searching for, or be something that helped them along the way.
Escape from the Wizard’s Library (for the Year 5s)
For this project, we sent characters to retrieve a book from a dangerous library! We mapped out the libraries and worked on specific scenes to bring the situation to life. A fun part of this project was building the actual spell books!
How to Steal from a Dragon (for the Year 6s)
This project involved an examination of character perspective and point of view. We imagined two main characters, the first being a dragon and the second being a thief who wanted to steal a scale from that dragon. This led to many conversations about how we wanted to steer the readers’ sympathies. We wrote legends about the dragons that could be discovered to be false once the more conventional parts of the stories took shape. And, of course, we built the dragon scales!
Once I finished at the first school, I headed to a second one where I spent one session with each grade, from Kindergarten all the way to Grade 8. These were more like a conventional school visits for me. There was no time for prop-building or to review the students’ writing, but we did get to complete some fun visual brainstorming!
As part of my time at the schools, I was also able to do some parent talks, individual mentoring, and a professional development session with teachers. It seemed there was never a dull moment and I’m particularly thankful to all the arrangements made by my hosts. Each residency comes with a unique set of challenges, but dealing with jet lag and a new locale are ones I don’t always have to deal with!
I’m now embarking on another residency at a school closer to home, here in Vancouver. The fun continues (though the food won’t be as good, since I won’t have access to all of that fresh fruit like I did in Bangkok)!
I took this photo when I was in downtown Vancouver recently. I remember feeling compelled to do so (I actually backtracked a few steps to take it after passing by). I didn’t really question what intrigued me about it at the time—I tend to just record things that catch my attention without analyzing the reason.
But when I came across the photo on my phone yesterday, I wondered what intrigued me about the scene. Perhaps the juxtaposition of the alley with the ornate building in the distance? Or the fact that it’s completely devoid of people?
Then I realized I have been taking photos like this for a long time, but more increasingly this past year. I have photos of empty alleys from Seoul, Bangkok, Shanghai, UK, Europe . . . I’m still not sure why I’ve been taking them! But story threads—not to mention inspiration for writing prompts for my creative writing classes—work in odd ways.
The quote of the week for the teens in my creative writing classes comes from the book Bel Canto by Ann Patchett:
“It makes you wonder. All the brilliant things we might have done with our lives if only we suspected we knew how.”
I like this quote because it speaks to the mystery of creation—and it’s that mystery that I believe is the central concern to the creative soul. Yes, we all want to finish writing books, to produce, to publish . . . but working in the arts is hard! Most of us wouldn’t keep doing it based on society’s typical definition of success. Most of us do it for something deeper. You know . . . to try and figure out those “brilliant things.”
I am speaking at three different conferences this month! First up is a virtual career fair for high school students. I’ll be talking about the pros and cons of working in the creative arts and what best steps they can take to start their journey. I’m looking forward to the questions!
I did a short reading, showed some props from the series, and watched the kids make some amazing dragon scales. The six-year-old wasn’t content to be a part of the audience, so decided to ham it up with me on the speaker’s chair. Maybe he can take over readings soon! (If you look at the last picture and think he’s not in it . . . well, look closely and you will see his head tucked behind my neck!)
Hard to believe that Kendra Kandlestar and the Box of Whispers is NINETEEN YEARS OLD. Wow. It’s a series I still hear about from readers, a series that keeps giving back to me. Sometimes it’s easy to get distracted by the “what-have-you-done-for-me-lately” mentality, but this series keeps me grounded in gratitude.
Thank you to the Lyceum for being such a kind and nurturing place for children (and for kidlit authors, too!).
The quote of the week for the teens in my creative writing classes comes from the Roman rhetorician, Quintilian:
“It’s easier to stumble into accidental innovations than to intentionally write the thing that you were after.”
My students are always looking to write something “fantastic” or “great” or “new” . . . but that goal often freezes them in place, and they end up writing nothing (boy, do I know that feeling!). One of the things that I have learned over my many years as a writer and educator is that writing something—anything—gets you further ahead than writing nothing.
It seems obvious and simple, but why is it still so hard for us to find simple motivation? Perhaps the fear of failure is greater than the hope for success. But, as I always tell my students, you don’t have to succeed on the first try with your words. Sometimes, you just need to “write your way through” a story. In other words, you discover your story by doing—rather than thinking about doing.
I picked up the above quote from a book by Angus Fletcher called Wonderworks: Literary Invention and the Science of Stories, which I recently finished in the middle of the night after losing the battle to jet lag. I highly recommend it, particularly if you’re a writer.
Leaving Bangkok today after a whirlwind trip, visiting schools, delivering workshops, and creating with kids and feeling both sad for leaving, but energized by a sense of purpose.
It’s been almost ten years since I’ve been to this city and as I trod back to my hotel last night, I made sure to cherish my surroundings, this experience. Bangkok has a throbbing pulse, an unceasing rhythm. It’s a place that’s alive, in every sense of the word.
Narrow sidewalks (or none at all!) means it is impossible to not become part of this rhythm, to not live the heartbeat of the city. One minute, a scooter is zipping past you, the next you pass a trio of teens taking selfies on the corner, then an old woman grilling street meat, followed by an even older woman selling bottles of water, maybe a monk swathed in orange robes in humble sandals or bare feet. In one breath you will see abject poverty and undeniable beauty. The partitions here are translucent.
I will remember the sounds of honking, of early-morning devotion to the monks, the calls of hello on the street (“Sawasdee ka!”). I will remember the candy-pink bottles of soda sitting on the Buddhist street shrines, the trees defying the cement of the city with their roots and branches and determination, and the pink blush of the sky at sunset. I will remember the feel of the swelter on my skin, the stickiness around my collar, the relief of a cool shower. I will remember the taste of sweet chili spice and succulent mangos, the crunch of Thai rose apples (my favourite!).
But I hope I will not have to remember them for too long! In the meantime, thank you, Bangkok, for a bit of rejuvenation. And a thank you to the schools, too, for hosting me . . . though I feel there will be another post coming, eventually, when I have further time to reflect.
Between the Cracks of Here and There 