It was yesterday when Facebook posts were either inner monologues or rib-tickling, witty remarks on a good day. I still look forward to Instagram captions that aren’t too far from diary entries, ones that do not yield to back-and-forth harangues in the comment section, but rather support, or better, no comments at all. Just space. But why can’t we just listen? Holding space for others is not natural. Because while we itch and fidget with this relentless dire need to speak over listen, nothing, let alone effective, gets transmitted to the receiving end. The ego merely does not exist, it…
Author: Rina Pritchard
David Foster Wallace Talks Talent, the Inferiority Complex and Being a ‘Literary Heavyweight’
I’ve been reading Although Of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself by David Lipsky, a book in a transcript/interview format that tells the exchange between Rollingstone reporter and editor David Lipsky and Infinite Jest author, David Foster Wallace. They take a road trip. They sit with his dogs. They confess. They tell and find common ground. I am the backseat passenger, the customer behind two dudes in line engaging in brilliant conversations that consumes me. Like being on the outside looking in, being incredibly drawn even though I can’t keep up with every inside joke, every esteemed piece of literature….
18 Introspective Quotes for Pensive Writers
If you’ve reflected all your life, then you’re no stranger to finding deep meaning in books, writing and other forms of expression. From simple sentences to an entire symphony, you connect, as though you long to or are already a part of the subject matter. It’s a quirk, a tendency, a hobby you instinctively do. By staring too long at spaces and things, parsing out the unseen, rationalizing with the arrival of feelings while trying to untangle the framework before you, you’re rewarded a profound understanding, a truth, a refreshing outlook or reality. Seeing isn’t enough; you need to know…
Can I Be Real? Confessions of a Mom-Writer.
I carry him, wanting him to hang tight because tomorrow he’ll turn eighteen, and then I won’t see him for months on end. Leggy New York models and his sybaritic lifestyle will steal our attention. He’ll be coming home on Thanksgivings only to tell me that my rendition of turkey is getting less and less dry every year, and he’ll kiss me on the cheek anyway. He may have to crouch over because somehow during my prosaic, languorous life, I have shrunk over time. I’ll learn to settle for weekly calls (if I’m lucky) of his breathing, one-word responses on…
Writing Prompt No. 3 – Garden Square on Tenth
Mr. Cromwell always drew the curtains of his window, where his unit sat right above the Romero’s whose daughter I used to date back in ’93. Some say he was allergic to the sun while others assumed the daylight aggravated his depression. Every time I pedaled my way across his once-dilapidated apartment building in my fixed-speed bicycle, I’d see his shades drawn. I was sure his curtains were stained by the sunlight from being drawn so often. At night, when I’d make my way home, after picking up Mom’s medication from the Pine Street corner pharmacy, I’d catch Mr. Cromwell’s…
Writing Prompt No. 2 – When Sleeping Dogs Lie
Trailing a few footsteps behind him, I couldn’t help but gaze wistfully at the way he picked up his feet when he walked, the way the sun struck his back and the way he stared down every time he found himself rambling. There was this fog between us, so thick and dense that it almost felt palpable. He was distant and I hated knowing him this way. “What?” he asked after turning around and dexterously walking backward as though he were some Senior sweet talking a Freshman by walking her to class just to finagle her heart. I instinctively smirked…
Writing Prompt No. 1 – Man on the Red Line
I stood there, waiting for the Blue Line, waiting closely enough to the yellow warning strip on the pavement that warns you to stand back unless you preferred a severed foot. (Who’d want that?) Before the Blue Line, came the Red Line. On the Red Line, I saw this man. At the time when both my hands were buried into my pockets, my fingers rolling pocket lint into tiny balls as I bounced my right leg out of impatience, I grew most fascinated by him. He sat, slouched and engrossed in his thoughts, looking pensive as ever. His posture implied…
Overcoming Creative Slowdowns and Writer’s Block
Creating is tough in a society where everyone will misunderstand you for a potato. It’s full of ups and downs and pauses. Like when I get stuck. When I’m lost in the fog, wandering in the doldrums. When my brain reaches a pause, a necessary step before it can catch up with itself. But it’s essential–the stagnation. It’s a stall, a completely normal episode that must happen in the writing process where I can wander back on track and continue Freewheeling off the beaten path where, although bumpy and sickening, is worth every mile in my progress. When I’m standing…
Top 7 Movies Writers Should Watch
Films have a way of inspiring us. While books, people and nature can open the minds of creators, movies hold an untouched charm to them, from their cinematography and screenplay to their overall theme. Here’s my list of movies I think every writer should watch. 1. The End of the Tour In March 1996, Rolling Stone magazine writer, David Lipsky, sets out to interview Infinite Jest novelist, David Foster Wallace. Wallace, played by Jason Segel, who hunkers down in Bloomington, Ill., participates in the five-day-long interview conducted by the overdetermined Lipsky, played by Jesse Eisenberg. What this movie lacks in…