Blog #8 Heather Cook

As I look back on this semester, I’ve had quite impressive mentors. I’ve been taught by Ernest Hemingway and Pat Conroy. I’ve been around the world to India to learn from Aravind Adiga , to France to listen to Muriel Barbery, and to Trinidad and Tobago to learn from Amanda Smyth. I’ve sat with Tori Murden McClure and listened to her beautiful prose as she rowed across the Atlantic, and I’ve sat around the fire and listened to Elizabeth Strout tell her stories about Olive Kitteridge. From these authors I’ve learned quite a lot, but the biggest aspect of their writing that I have taken with me is the ability to slow down and to build the characters with grace and depth.

Out of all the authors we’ve read, Pat Conroy spoke to me the loudest. With his book that contained such memorable characters, I learned the merits of a slower pace. I was astounded at some of the details he included about the characters, things that I wouldn’t have even thought to include, yet these little details help shape the characters into the rounded people that they are in the novel. In the detective fiction piece I have begun to write during this class (which I have begun to put more focus on rather than the fantasy piece), I slowed the pace down in order for the detective to think about all the occupants within a movie theater.

Immediately bored of the previews, Spade began to profile everyone around. A man with what appeared to be black hair sat a couple rows from the front by himself. Every now and then, he would scratch the back of his head almost habitually. Sitting diagonally to the left about five rows in front of Spade was the easily aggravated young couple who were necking as if they had forgotten that they were in a public space rather than in the confines of a bedroom.

From Amanda Smyth, I learned that setting is more important than I thought. The reader needs to visualize the scenery or the world that I have created will not become real to them. Often times in my writing, I pay more attention to the temporary settings, like a certain room or a certain day’s weather, but I wouldn’t paint the larger picture of where the characters are to begin with. In the detective fiction piece I’m writing, I tried to change this by describing the physical appearance of the theater.

Although he frequented this theater, the appearance of the theater always managed to startle him. Despite the bright lights and the new paint on the outside, the insides truly showed the theater’s age. The beige walls were darkened with dust, and the burgundy carpet was worn and tattered.

Though these are only a few examples of what I’ve learned from these wonderful writers, they have had a profound effect on me, and their lessons echo through my mind as my fingers brush the keys.