CREATIVE WRITING

at the Ruth Asawa School of the Arts in San Francisco

Welcome! CW develops the art and craft of creative writing through instruction, collaboration, and respect. This blog showcases STUDENT WRITING and how to APPLY to Creative Writing.

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Once upon a time, cats were lonely, so they wanted someone whose only purpose in existence was to love and cherish cats. Thus, the Creative Writers were born. Out of the glowing bundle of soft and squishy warmness and fluff was a stack of Post-It notes that absolutely adored cats. Cats named that stack Midori, and that was that.

  • Modern-Day Absurdism

    Lately I’ve been pondering war. They’re political, they hurt like hell to think about– I’ve carried this morbid fascination with the topic since Modern World last year. That’s probably where this got started, learning about World War One and reading All Quiet On The Western Front. WWI was the last of the Romantic wars, trench warfare the disillusionment, the mass murder of innocence and honor. I have a book of WWI poetry sitting on my desk:

    When you see millions of the mouthless dead
    Across your dreams in pale battalions go,
    Say not soft things as other men have said,
    That you’ll remember. For you need not so.
    Give them not praise. For, deaf, how should they know
    it is not curses heaped on each gashed head?
    Nor tears. Their blind eyes see not your tears flow.
    Nor honour. It is easy to be dead.
    Say only this, ‘They are dead.’ Then add thereto,
    ‘Yet many a better one has died before.’
    Then, scanning all the o’ercrowded mass, should you
    perceive one face that you loved heretofore,
    it is a spoke. None wears the face you knew.
    Great death has made all his for evermore.

    –Charles Hamilton Sorley

    –and that’s just one poem. This is the consequence of dividing soldiers in war from a bigger political agenda, I think, when even the people know not what they are fighting for. We see this again in Korea, in Vietnam, in Iraq. Why do we fight?

    But that’s a digression– I’d like to focus on the act of war itself, fighting on a battlefield, fighting for your life. Today we hear about PTSD, flashbacks, blackout episodes in veterans, how they are unable to reintegrate into civilization. We don’t hear about that happening after World War Two, it was more of a post-Korea thing. Post-Vietnam thing. Apocalypse Now, Mr. Kurtz and the horror the horror, that was the first Art&Film movie I walked away from shaking and sobbing in fear and distress. Line that up side by side with Paul from All Quiet, the soldier he killed in a trench, and we see a theme. These men aren’t fighting for a greater cause, they’re fighting for their lives. They’re fighting to survive in a situation the Great Civilization dumped them in, and they’re coming out– fast as new cars in an assembly line– disappointed. Disillusioned– the great lie of politics and society, we make it so much more than it actually is, Governor Smoke and President Mirrors. This is the type of hopelessness that spreads, a pervasive undercurrent of thought already worming through the American consciousness, the great distrust in power. Watergate just made it official.

    Bringing it back home, I’ve found a similar morbid fascination with Absurdist writings– maybe it’s related, maybe it’s not. All I know is I get the same big swallow in my throat, breathing hard the wrong way down my esophagus so my stomach gets bloated on emptiness. Let’s go. We can’t. Why not? We’re waiting for Godot. Ah! This hilarious sadness for something we’ve blown way out of proportions, we care so deeply for and mourn its lost– it’s ridiculous. It’s absurd. Civilization is a method for bookkeeping, its entire purpose to ordain and streamline modes of interaction between humans, and we’ve let the plaque build up in guise of Romanticism. We’re festering. We’re self-destructing. What the hell, hero, America, you weren’t supposed to let these ideals get out of hand. You weren’t supposed to idly stand by and believe anything with a federal stamp of approval over it. How little we want to care, it’s crass. It’s utterly, completely absurd.

  • Sciiiiiiieeeeence

    by Mykel (’14)

    I’ve always been an obsessive person. I move through intense phases where I read everything I can on a particular subject. I cycle through periods of enthusiasm: eras of history, TV shows, foods, philosophies, and musicians have all had their turn in the spotlight…

    I always have the urge to share my excitement with other people, which I’m sure gets seriously annoying, because it usually ends up with me rolling around on the CW carpet and saying “Midoooriiii! It’s sooo cooooolll.”

    Anyways, my most recent obsession is fermentation! (It’s so cool!) I love seeing bacteria at work in such a concrete way. Letting certain kinds of bacteria do their thing on dairy, fruits, and vegetables actually increases their digestability and nutritional value. Plus the stuff is fun to make and super tasty. I like how it makes me think about all the beneficial microbes humans live with in symbiotic relationships. And how human bodies are superorganisms.

    So far, I’ve made my own yogurt/yogurt cheese. With the whey (excess fluid you get when you strain yogurt or cheese), I’m going to make my own fermented apple chutney! Then maybe I’ll move on to beets and carrots. Mmmm. Microbes.

  • Declarative Statements About the Future

    by Hazel (’13)

    It seems that kids are supposed to know what they want to do with their lives at younger and younger ages. Anyone who is in school right now (and possibly others, though I can’t speak for them) will probably know what I’m talking about. The thing is, it’s so accepted that it’s not one of those things people complain about as they congregate around their lockers between classes; it’s just an accepted source of stress.

    Considering the specialized nature of SOTA, there actually are a lot of people who have a pretty solid sense of what they want to do in college, if not for the rest of their lives. It’s admirable, it’s impressive, and I wish those people the best of luck in pursuing what they love. And yet, the proportion of people who seem confident in their plans for the future strikes me as implausible. Can all these people really know themselves that well? The very thought of it baffles me.

    Like many people in high school, I usually try to blend in, and when I see someone else doing something I like, I try to do it too. So, because I perceive other people my age as having concrete goals that are relevant to the rest of their lives, well, I want them too. So I’ve started making these big, declarative statements.

    “I’m going to get a low-paying job to support myself while I write books!”

    “I just want to own a bakery!”

    “I’m going to go to trade school and become a mechanic!”

    All of these things sound nice. But goodness gracious, I am only seventeen years old and I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I say things like this because everyone else seems so confident and that scares me. But I have to be honest with myself and with everyone else. So here’s the new statement:

    I don’t know what I want to do with my life, but I know what interests me. I’m going to go to college, try out lots of things, and eventually find that one thing I could do for the rest of my life. As much pressure as there is to decide right now what my future career will be, I refuse to choose, because I would only be lying to everyone present.

    This is why, after months of consideration, I am planning on going to college next year. I always assumed I would, but after talking to classmates with different plans or at least concerns, I became less sure. No one system will fit every person’s needs. But one thing I know is that I love learning, and while there’s a lot I can learn wherever I end up, there are things that I probably could not teach myself, so I’m going to go find some folks who can. And one day, it will all come together and I’ll know what I want to do. But there’s no good reason to rush.

  • The Story of How I Changed Abigail’s Life Forever

    by Giorgia (’14)

    I dragged Abigail up top to Mollie Stones with me last week, with the promise of a pompelmo San Pellegrino soda, because I wanted company and she was thirsty.

    (Now, you see, Abigail and I have a very unique kind of relationship where I wipe flour on her shirt and call her at 10pm in hysterics and she makes decisions for me and does everything generally 20 points better.)

    So we went up top and in a surprising turn of events we were not soaked by water falling from the trees at the edge of campus, as in it was a nice day– the sun was even out! We arrived at Mollie Stones remarkably unfrozen and dry.

    I decided that in celebration of the actually something resembling springtime weather, I should purchase ice cream, and much to my delight, Mollie Stones was not only carrying quarter pints of Häagen Dazs, but chocolate peanut butter quarter pints.

    There, in the middle of the frozen foods aisle in Mollie Stones, occurred a prime vignette of Abigail “Light O’ My Life” Schott-Rosenfield and my friendship: I cried and screamed and raged, deliberated on quantity, and finally purchased two quarter pints for Abigail and myself, proclaiming “THIS WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE.”

    We ate our ice cream on the way back down to the Creative Writing room, not wanting to face the “EXTRA FOOD!?!?” barrage if we arrived in the room with the ice cream. Now, I am not sure when Abigail is humoring me or not, but she most certainly agreed that I had changed her life by having her sample this most miraculous of ice cream flavors.

    (ngl i’m probs just gonna get lines of abigail’s poetry tattooed all over my body when i go to college)

  • Re: Social Media

    Okay, I totally get it when people judge and poke fun at social media: Facebook cuts down actual face-to-face communication, Twitter is for twits, Tumblr’s just plain weird.

    Instagram is Twitter for people who can’t read/write (the joke being– Twitter posts have a 140 character-limit).

    And then the less mean one: Instagram just makes photos look old, what the hell’s the point.

    …The point is, I like photos. I like taking them, composing shots, editing them.

    The cliché is that people who use Instagram just post pictures of Starbucks, what they’re eating, selfies, and the sky.

    (A cliché that is actually true to a definite percent on a piechart.)

    But there are also tons of respectable photographers and photo-editors self-publishing on Instagram.

    I like photos a lot.

    Instagram is a quick auto-editor, with enough options for filters and blurring etc. that I feel like I have a say in my composition.

    Most ridiculous; don’t write me off as a person for using Instagram.

  • (I Wanna Take You to a) Play (Bar)

    ‘Aight, here are the long-awaited behind-the-scenes photos.

    The Girl Who Cried Tortoise
    Now there’s a guy that looks good on his hands and knees.
    Mommy Hazel with Hammer Baby
    Maxine and Johnny (and Jonathan)
    Constructive Criticism

    Stay tuned for behind-the-scenes videos, for an in-depth look at CW’s creative process and waffles.

  • Ain’t Nothing Like the First Time

    To be honest, I never really saw myself as much of a play person.

    It’s not a long held prejudice, or a complicated one. I’ve just never been very interested in reading them on paper, and although I enjoy the productions that I get a chance to see, it’s just not something I find myself actively searching for.

    It’s amazing, though, how plays come to life. It’s wild and it’s arduous; it takes a lot of time and contribution from a lot of people; after a few days, though you begin to see a spark, like something starts to click between the actors and director and writer. In the week leading up to the play writing show, this is what I experienced:

    Monday, DAY 1: The barest bones are set. At this point in time, we didn’t even have the stage to start rehearsals. We roamed around the hallways and libraries, looking for places to practice lines in peace. One by one, plays were read from crisp white scripts, and that was it: everyone is still learning at this point. Words lead to characters; characters lead to interactions; interaction leads to tension and drama. But, at this point, all anyone has is words and characters they need to learn.

    Tuesday, DAY 2: We get to  the theater to rehearse, and on the stage the actors get a sense of how they have to move in front of the audience of people. A few people are off-book, but most cling to their scripts. Actors and directors slowly become more comfortable with their scripts and characters, and really begin working together to make the play as natural feeling as possible.

    Wednesday, DAY 3: The plays are finally coming to life. Having workshopped the plays in previous drafts, I can see the intention in the writer’s words finally coming out in the action and tension of the play. Actors become more familiar with their scripts and their characters; they understand who they are to become to carry out the author’s words.

    Thursday, DAY 4: I sit in the audience every chance I get as the plays are rehearsed, since I won’t have a chance to see them during the performance. The plays are coming together, and Waffles for Dinner (by Avi Hoen, the musical about estranged sisters reconnecting and overcoming waffle phobias) makes me laugh so hard I collapse on the ground crying. Everything runs smoothly, and though some are more comfortable holding their scripts on stage, it doesn’t take away from their ability to inhabit their characters.

    Friday, PERFORMANCE DAY: Everything is beautiful. Tech makes everything bright and pretty, and the lights and sound cues are all set. Isaiah is a beautiful raccoon and dragon.

    The performance itself is smooth running and extraordinarily. There isn’t anything like the first time seeing plays become realities on stage. It was not the most intricate production I had ever seen, but this is the first time I had seen plays transform from words written in twelve-point Courier font to a real stage production.  It was magical, the evolution from words to developed characters to stage. Maybe, next year, with the right luck, I will get to see my written play turn into a reality unto itself on stage.

  • Showtime!

    24 Creative Writers

    12 Plays

    120 minutes of pure entertainment

    1 night only

    “Work Hard Play Harder”

    Friday April 12, 2013

    7:30 Showtime

    $10 for Students, $15 for Adults

    The Ruth Asawa School of the Arts Creative Writing Department is pleased to present “Work Hard Play Harder” our tenth annual play writing showcase event. The twelve plays are not only written, but performed by Creative Writing students: who says writers should be cloistered, chained to their keyboards? Misfits, mutants, monsters, and a wide range of other characters will populate the stage of the Dan Kryston Memorial Theatre.  Join us at 6:30 for a reception with special guest San Francisco playwright Christopher Chen, best known for THE HUNDRED FLOWERS PROJECT.

    We know you work hard. Come play harder with us.

  • More of Carville Annex

    by Abigail (’14)

    Frances and I recently went to another Carville Annex reading. (This time it was at the Carville Annex building in the Sunset, not in a forest glen.) The reading was a lecture given by Molly Prentiss, “non-famous famous person” from Brooklyn, on– quoting  “aspirational objects…commercial tactics…and reasons why stories will not die.” It was also a party for the revamped Actually People Quarterly.

    I got there a little early, so Sarah Fontaine, one of the Annex founders, invited me up to the attic to wait for everyone else to arrive. She told me about what she’s planning on teaching us in her CW unit later this year– it’s going to be about, as I understood it, the places where genres overlap and make new kinds of writing. I won’t reveal anything else, but she seemed very excited about it.

    The reading was in the attic. Maybe 40 people were there– it certainly felt packed– and most were sitting on the floor. Before she started, Molly (it feels wrong to call her Ms. Prentiss when the setting of the reading was so intimate) handed out “non-linear” maps of the lecture, which was titled “The Necessary Narrative.” A picture of part of a map is shown below. It was especially useful afterwards, when I wanted to be reminded of all the things she’d touched on.

    Molly Prentiss has not only a unique perspective, but also a unique style. She grew up in a commune in Santa Cruz; now she works in fashion advertising. She told us about her “fake,” unfinished novel, which might become a real, finished novel, without boring us, and about noblewomen’s long nails, and about her pretend childhood pony, Midnight. She was also funny. Although Frances and I were confused about how loudly people were laughing– she’d make a joke that wasn’t uproariously amusing, but everyone else was rolling… That part was slightly off-putting.

    I wanted to read her lecture again after she finished. I haven’t searched for it yet, or tried to get ahold of her, but Frances and I got copies of the new Actually People Quarterly, which has some other Molly Prentiss pieces in it. I could bring mine in and leave it on the shelves in CW, if anyone else wants to share a good thing.

    Coming up is another Carville Annex lecture:

    Saturday, April 20th, 7pm
    Inventory of Shimmers: The Neutral in Three Parts
    a lecture by Colleen Stockmann

  • Creative Writing Show!

    24 Creative Writers

    12 Plays

    120 minutes of pure entertainment

    1 night only

    “Work Hard Play Harder”

    Friday April 12, 2013

    7:30 Showtime

    $10 for Students, $15 for Adults

    The Ruth Asawa School of the Arts Creative Writing Department is pleased to present “Work Hard Play Harder” our tenth annual play writing showcase event. The twelve plays are not only written, but performed by Creative Writing students: who says writers should be cloistered, chained to their keyboards? Misfits, mutants, monsters, and a wide range of other characters will populate the stage of the Dan Kryston Memorial Theatre.  Join us at 6:30 for a reception with special guest San Francisco playwright Christopher Chen. We know you work hard. Come play harder with us.