Today we take a glimpse inside the lives of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald in this rare compilation of photographs and footage taken of the eccentric couple. The material of this video focuses primarily on the pair during the early-to-mid Twenties, before the deterioration of their marriage, and ultimately Zelda's sanity.
Last night I went to a reading at a theater in Santa Monica. My teacher, speaking to the entire audience, reminded me of the first task she assigned each quarter. To write a glimmer, one gets in and gets out. Most everything is concrete. There are few abstractions.
We haven’t had workshop since mid-March. This time is to be spent finishing and rewriting our manuscripts. At our last meeting, I was given notes on how to make a story better. Over the past couple of weeks I had completed most of my rewrites. However, a couple of small but important matters were still bothering me about the story. They’re the type of rewrites that require deep thought: a character’s reaction to conflict, a story title.
Walter Benton was an American poet and writer. His book of poems titled This is My Beloved was published in 1943 and sold roughly 350,000 copies by 1949. Despite the popularity of his poetry, a recent article on biblioklept.org written by Edwin Turner has called Benton's work "...simply quasy, bad writing."
“Writing is Rewriting” – Ernest Hemingway
Second Hemingway reference in a week, and I’m not even a huge fan. Actually, a lot of writers have revealed this secret, if it ever needed revealing.
I’ll add my own: A writer who’s satisfied after a first draft probably isn’t a writer.
In honor of National Poetry Month meet Kioni "Popcorn" Marshall, an extraordinary 12-year-old poet from the Bronx. Follow Kioni's emotional journey as she prepares for her first featured performance at New York's famed Nuyorican Poets Cafe.
Created and produced by @radical.media, THNKR gives you extraordinary access to the people, stories, places and thinking that will change your mind.
I’m writing on a laptop in bed. About as far from Hemingway as possible, but I have an excuse: a vegan restaurant food-poisoned me. If I move too much, I get sick. Even typing that last sentence made me a tad nauseous.