Chasing Down The Muse: Giving tips to young writers

Sleepless in the night — and then the dream.

I am running down a roadway trying to find the classroom where I am scheduled to speak to a high school class about writing. Dressed only in a white robe, I am horribly afraid that I will be late. I glance at my watch, and I am late. Due at 10 a.m., it is 10:15. I turn in every direction, clueless as to where I am to go. Suddenly, my friend Emma appears, also dressed in nightclothes. She says to me, “You can make it. They are waiting for you.”

Actually, I was fully clothed when I stepped through the door at San Ramon High School in Danville. Kerri Pike, daughter of my lifelong friend Merri had invited me to speak to her journalism students about writing. The classroom reflected the spirit and energy of Pike. Inspirational posters lined the walls, stacks of well-loved books spilled from shelves, and an inviting chalk board clearly delineated a week’s worth of assignments and expectations.

Prior to my arrival, the students had been assigned the series I had written about the Laguna landslides. They were to read the separate columns and answer four questions about the content. Pike had encouraged them to formulate questions of their own to ask after my talk.

The room filled with shining eager faces (well, almost). Additional students from the newspaper class had been invited to sit in on the talk.

I had most of an hour to explore writing with them. The previous week they had studied the difference between editorial writing and columns.

I opened our conversation with my morning dream, as both an entrée for explaining that I tend to be late, and as an illustration of ways to begin a story.

One of the students, Skyanne, asked if I thought that meant I was scared to talk to them. I said, “No. What it meant was that I am historically late, and I desperately wanted to be on time.”

We talked about how in a column, a personal point of view is one of the criteria. I invited them to participate with me in an exercise on POV, and on how one enters a scene. I described a scenario — in this case, a situation like Columbine — where two students had fired guns upon other students. I asked them to picture in their minds the events as if they were in the actual space, and then express where they thought the story should start. What would be their first line?

Jessica thought she’d start the story with the sound of the gunshots and the scattering of students. Jack wasn’t sure it was gunshots. What if it were a lawn mower? How would that make a difference? Another student took a more reflective position and thought to start with a consideration of the history of the students who wielded the guns. The faces of all the students became animated during the discussion. Through their answers and questions I learned more names: Leah, Nick, Jake, Taylor, Erica and two Victorias.

We discussed how interpretation and words can change a world. I wanted to encourage them to express themselves now, and in the future to share their bright young minds.

“Question my Americanism” was a column I wrote prior to the beginning of the Iraq war. It was first printed in the Coastline Pilot, but via the magical connections of the Internet, it was “expropriated” and found its way to sites such as CommonDreams.org, TruthOut.org and an American Veterans site. Because of the viral spread, I received more than 800 responses in three days from all corners of the world.

One e-mail came from a student in a high school in Norway. He wanted me to know how much he had appreciated the column and that his class had used my column in their study of democracy. I was honored, flattered and amazed that my words had echoed with like minds, and found their way into a classroom.

I turned the discussion to their questions, which included:

“What was the hardest column you ever had to write?”

My brother’s death was the most difficult, because I was angry that he died of an overdose. I was angry that I hadn’t been able to help him, or convince him to stop using drugs. Angry that he left a void in my life, but that I still loved and cherished the innocence of the small boy who had been my younger brother.

“What column had the most impact on your community?”

Trees and views. The issue has yet to be resolved, but that the dialogue was reopened. I am not sure an equitable solution can ever be reached, but I do bemoan the forest of trees that has all but eliminated my ocean vista.

“Do people ever call you names?”

Yes. Constantly. Stupid, misinformed, airhead, tree-hugger (see above), liberal idiot, blinded by self-conceit. Of course, there are also those who write in support of my ramblings.

“How do you choose what you will write about?”

Whatever catches the most attention as my deadline approaches. Sometimes it starts with simple imagery. Sometimes an event will be the trigger. Whatever pushes on the edges of my felt concerns.

“What happened to your parents after the slide?”

Sadly, they moved to Laguna Woods. Now, however, it seems to them like a blessing. They are secure in their one-story home (albeit without their fabulous white water view), and have a grand time playing golf at a fraction of what their former country club cost them. They’ve made new friends in the community, while maintaining connections with Laguna.

What were you thinking about when you saw their house on the news?

That I had to be there/get there right now. I had to help them.

CATHARINE COOPER loves to explore new ideas. She can be reached at [email protected]