Showing posts with label Hemingway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hemingway. Show all posts

Write where you are

Tuesday, March 13, 2018
I've been reading about famous writers and their writing spaces, which are as varied as the writing styles themselves. John Cheever put on a suit and rode the elevator down to the basement storage area of his apartment building, where he took off the suit and wrote in his boxer shorts. Virginia Woolf said every woman should have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction. Ernest Hemingway wrote standing up,and Marcel Proust wrote in bed. Charles Dickens would rearrange furniture to make the space conducive to writing, and Thomas Mann had a large desk covered with objects, reducing the actual writing area.

I'm always looking for a good place to write. I don't know what makes it good, but I know it when I see it. A few weeks ago, I found a new coffee shop inside a creative community space/art gallery in a former strip-mall bar that features a long wooden table near the front windows, and I love it.

I recently visited Lindenwood University's (St. Charles, MO) new library with its soaring wall of windows. Contemporary furniture and seating in an open space with high ceilings invite everyone to sit, read, or write. A small coffee shop is tucked to the side, and the stacks include rows and rows of tall book shelves with chairs and desks scattered throughout. I love it.

I wanted to compare the new space to the old, and see how it had changed since my days as a grad student. I spent a lot of time in Butler Library, built in 1929, with its dark, castle-like lobby and old, soft sofas and massive fireplace. I loved it.

Butler Library had carrels not much larger than a small closet in the (even darker) basement. Students could close the sliding doors to shut out the world. I remember looking out the window onto a street with beautiful old houses on the other side, but I'm not sure if that's accurate (it's been a while). Windows or not, I loved it.

Regardless of where you write, and whether or not you like background noise or complete silence while staring at a blank wall or taking in a spectacular view, it's really not about the space. Just write where you are. I'm writing this with my feet on the coffee table in my family room with the computer resting on my lap. It's not the coolest space, but I'm writing, and I love it.


Mary Horner is the author of Strengthen Your Nonfiction Writing, and teaches communications at St. Louis and St. Charles Community Colleges. She completed the Writing Certificate from the University of Missouri-St. Louis, and is a certified medical writer.
Read More »

It doesn't end well (but there's hope)

Saturday, December 02, 2017
I'm going to preface this post by disclosing the fact that I've been to four weddings this year, including my daughter's. All were lovely. The last one took place at a large church not too far from my house, and the sign announcing the week's sermon read "The beginning of the end."

T. S. Eliot wrote "our beginnings never know our ends." Although true, the sign made me think about the two young people beginning their lives together. So does that mean the beginning of the end of freedom, or the beginning of the end of solitude and loneliness? Honestly, there is probably some of both.

Because we already know how it ends for all of us in the real world, should we care how a book or movie ends? Why is the "Happily ever after" ending so pervasive? I tried to think of books and movies that have a pessimistic ending, and George Orwell's classic 1984 popped up. Winston met a dark end, and submits.

He loved Big Brother.

But most offer a more complex mixture of emotions. One of my favorite books, The Ballad of Pinewood Lake by Jory Sherman, has a dreary ending, but in the last three short sentences, offers a glimmer of hope.

I was afraid of drowning,
But I drowned anyway.
We get what we want, all right, but we get what we fear, too.
I learned that much. And something else, too.
Don't be afraid. Of anything.
Ever.


Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms also features an ending that can be interpreted with a bit of hope. In literature, rain can represent a washing away of the the past, and within the sadness of loss lies the smallest hint of a new future, a fresh start.

After a while I went out and left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain.

Movies about the worst events in history can end on a hopeful note, including Schindler's List. And although the world is not portrayed as a happy place, dystopian novels may end with someone walking through a devastated landscape. And that one person equals life, and life means hope.

As we prepare for year's end, we may be resigned to the fact that we didn't accomplish all our goals, and people we love may not be with us anymore. But at the end of this year lies another. So we begin again. Maybe that's why we like our books and movies sprinkled with a little bit of hope on top of the pessimism. Because we also begin again.

Mary Horner's short story, Shirley and the apricot tree, was recently published in Kansas City Voices. She teaches communications at St. Louis and St. Charles Community Colleges.
Read More »
Powered by Blogger.
Back to Top