By Sophie Zhu
As a student here at East, you have likely encountered poetry in some way, be it through the poetry reading last fall with Rachel Toarmino, poem studies in your SUPA, or the creative writing elective class. When prompted to consider creative writing, poetry is often what first comes to mind, though fiction (novels or short stories) and creative nonfiction are frequently fashioned by way of the open mind.
Accustomed to the short-answer or essay prompts given in English class, you may find academic writing a bore, mundane, and relatively unprovoking. It is fair to say the “analysis” sections of essays (particularly argument ones) require that classic “reading between the lines” skill. And the same phrases to cycle through on the page: therefore, hence, yet, however, moreover. The root of your essay is the prompt reiterating in your mind, asking you to explain a relation or an effect, asking you to analyze a given item. Given. That word alone obstructs the creative mind, not even considering the fact you most probably must scour pages and pages of textual evidence. In other words, you are analyzing another’s work — another’s artwork, poem, essay, autobiography, or short story. The mere indirectness of the analysis sets back the hook of the mind. Even with my own personal affinity for English studies, I will easily admit that surely it becomes tiresome.
But here: fathom you being the given. Becoming the elusive creator to put thoughts so shielded on the page. That is a steady power in your hands — literally — to put forth how much of a shield, how articulate of a thought, etc. It may be difficult to perfect the way you choose to unsheath, successfully (under your light), the images of the mind, as Jenny Xie writes in her (excellent, though that topic is for another article) collection Eye Level: “I can shake out the imprint of my body on the sheets each morning. Harder to shake out the mind.” But it is quite worth the time to relay the inner sight to the reader and choose the thickness and layout of its barrier. Maybe persuasion is a term for it, but it is far subtler, so, as with any new venture, it is worth the time to try it out! Think of it as a persuasion/argument essay, but the subject matter and presentation being in all in your control.
One great way to begin experimenting with creative writing is by seeking strong inspiration. Because of writing’s volatility, it can be difficult to locate poetry, short stories, nonfiction, etc. you bear a strong taste for. But at least for starters, you might wish to try out our East Literary Digest’s featured works, which can be found at https://eastliterarydigest.weebly.com/. Issues are published about once or twice a month and feature works from students specifically at East.
In that vein, with enough of a picture of the creative writing landscape splayed out, you are welcome and most encouraged to submit to the East Literary Digest. The process is simple:
- Join our Google Classroom via a code which you can obtain from Mr. Huber at [email protected].
- Watch out for issue deadlines, which typically take place monthly.
- Submit a Google document or PDF of your work in the appropriate assignment.
Within a month or two (if you are a SUPA student, perhaps longer) expect to find a WITSMail in your inbox directing you to the website with your work posted! Remember that your work can range from form poetry to hybrid to segmented creative nonfiction. The goal of the East Literary Digest is only to display the work you have diligently created (and completed), so also feel free to request to be published anonymously (under a specified pen name in your submission document).
If you happen to find a distaste for creative writing or are faced with writer’s block, it is completely normal and honestly healthy to take a break from it. After all, the act of creation is merely a way to transcribe the mind to language and shouldn’t be forced. It’s the freedom that comes with creative writing that makes it so insightful and fun to work with. Take this quote, for instance, from the renowned Carl Phillips’s interview:
Interviewer: Poetry is a radical thing. Is that true?
Carl Phillips: I think it is. And a dangerous, become almost holy, thing, and therefore not to be dealt with lightly. Poetry’s not a box for storing unexamined experience, but a space instead — a field, really — within which to examine experience and to find that the more we examine it the more we’re surprised or disturbted by what we see, things that don’t go away. I think that’s the resonant part. But I understand that it’s harder to write that kind of poem. Harder, too, to read it.
We, the editors and our advisor Mr. Huber, are only encouraging you to experiment with creating, and often publishing instills some sort of pride that propels you to continue creating. If you ever feel the need to set your experiences forth onto the page and set them out of the mind, writing may become an outlet. Note that issue 3’s submissions are due on November 13, and more deadlines are always coming up (pretty much rolling at this point), so don’t hasten the creative process in efforts to catch the due date. Take your time with your experiences, your empty field, your language. Happy writing!
P.S. We the editors at the literary digest are considering holding open writing workshops or open readings from poets, essayists, etc. If you have any ideas, suggestions, or thoughts, please do contact us in the “Contact” page of the digest’s website, https://eastliterarydigest.weebly.com/.
“How it ends is painful, if I’m remembering right. But it isn’t pain.” Carl Phillips from Wild Is The Wind (FSG, 2018)
