Starting this coming weekend and running through the 17 of May, Florida Tech over in Melbourne, FL, will be running its annual weeklong Creative Writing Institute. See the banner above. Speaking and holding classes at the institute will be Susan Hubbard, Lynne Barrett, John DuFresne, Michael Lister, and Philip Deaver, your longpinelimited host :-) and in addition special classes will be offered by many of our favorites from the FIT writing faculty.
This will be my third CWI, and Melbourne has always been a great location for the workshop right at the beginning of summer, the Institute's programs are both unique and targeted to the needs of Florida writers, and Marcia Denius, Jason Harris, and the organizing staff are cordial, dedicated, and welcoming.
Prize winning Florida writer Lynne Barrett will be delivering the keynote on Sunday, starting us off and setting the tone for the week. You can peruse the entire program here (http://411.fit.edu/cwi) and register if you wish at that site as well, but let me just say, if you've never attended and are interested in a productive writerly escape before summer really cranks up, you'd have to look long and hard to find a better venue to get yourself into the writing mood, mode, way, and rhythm. For writers in the Greater Orlando area, it's just far enough away to be far enough away, and close enough so you're not too far away. Stop it! You know what I mean!
If you've never worked with John Dufresne and heard him talk about his writing practice (ironic, witty as hell, and you know it's the truth), this alone is a treat and one major reason why I like to participate at the Institute. Many of us in our region are familiar with the work and teaching of Susan Hubbard, and being at the Institute to work with her is a guaranteed, no-fail path to inspiring you to the worktable this summer.
You'll note that the dates are coming right up. Think fast. Some people like to plan WAY ahead, and this is to those of you who like to act on an impulse, a sudden really good idea. Look over the materials and come on over after Mother's Day brunch. Bring your notes, your laptop, buncha Impact 207 Uniball Signos (for the bold dark line and smooth as silk roller ball), your favorite very precious notebook/writing pad, and hang with some writers for a few days. The link above, and banner above, provide all the contact information (website, phone numbers) you need to decide be there. It's always fun when representatives from our rockin' Greater Orlando writing community shows up. Hope to see you there.
NOTE: Below I've posted the original press release for the Institute, which should give you all the info you need even though it's bad form in a blog! Have at it.
CREATIVE
WRITING INSTITUTE OF FLORIDA TECH 2012
PRESS
RELEASE
Registration
is now open for the Fourth Annual Creative Writing Institute of Florida
Institute of Technology, to be held on campus May 13 through 17. This year’s blockbuster line-up of Featured
Writers includes Keynote Speaker, Lynne Barrett, first place winner in General Fiction for this year’s prestigious Florida
Book Award for her recently published book, Magpies. Barrett has authored three short story
collections, is the editor of the Florida
Book Review, and teaches Creative Writing at Florida International
University.
Returning
Featured Writers, all former Keynote Speakers, are Susan Hubbard (The Season of Risks), John Dufresne (Lousiana Power and Light), and Philip
F. Deaver (Silent Retreats). Completing
the roster of Featured Writers is award-winning author, Michael Lister, who has
published six novels and two short story collections.
Free,
open-to-the-public events will be offered throughout the session, the first of
which is the Keynote Speaker’s address, “The Thread of a Story,” on Sunday, May
13 at 2:15 pm in the Denius Student Center on campus. Prior to the address there will be a
reception, registration, and book signing, starting at noon. Other events to which the public is invited
include luncheons and dinners each day with Featured Writers speaking about
their works, a Publishing Panel presented by the Featured Writers (May 14 at 4
pm), an Open Mic poetry session (May 17 at 8:45 pm), and a performance of the
dramatic works of playwright Troy Jones (May 15 at 5 pm). A Media Panel will host a discussion on May
16 at 4 pm, followed by Dr. Terry Cronin presenting an Independent Film Screening
at 8:45 pm. All of these free bonus events
will be held in the Hartley Room of the Denius Student Center.
Classes,
with a focus on the craft of writing, are being offered mornings, afternoons,
and evenings to accommodate registrants’ work and school schedules. Beginning to advanced writers of all ages
have a wide variety of classes from which to choose: Building Strong Fiction;
Songwriting; Flash Fiction; Writing Memoirs; Writing Poems; Writing the Novel;
Writing Short Stories; Writing for Children; Playwriting; The Literary
Thriller; Writers’ Ten Biggest Mistakes; Science Fiction. Both 3-day and 4-day classes (2 hours/class)
are available. This year, public and
private school teachers will receive a 50% discount on enrollment costs.
Also being offered are one-time lectures:
History Writing, Literary Journalism, Publishing in the Internet Age, and
Writing for Comics and Film. For
registration and a complete listing of classes, lectures, and bonus events,
please visit our website at http://411.fit.edu/cwi. Early registration is advised as class size is
limited.
The
Creative Writing Institute provides a place for writers to feel at home with
other writers, a place where they can find and express their own voices, and
where in workshops, they can receive valuable feedback and insight; also, area
hotels are offering generous discounts for CWI attendees With its bonus events, which are all free and
open to the public, the CWI offers the opportunity for community members to
meet some of the best writers writing today, right here on the beautiful
Florida Tech campus.
Nobody in our big world of punditry and opinion expressing says that racism is at the core of our problem today. The very fact it isn't being said let's you know how dark this place is inside us. Barack Obama cannot say he's a victim of racism, and there’s nobody watching his back who will say it for him. Black activists in the US know better than to call a snake a snake. If they do, it's "game on" and they're gonna need more than a pitchfork.
I hope somebody in the Occupy movement realizes that Barack Obama is a very well-placed ally for what they want to accomplish, the best and best-placed ally they could ever have. But divided we cannot stand, and we have been successfully divided. If OWS wants Mitt Romney to be president, and John Boehner and Mitch McConnell to have a victory parade in 2012 which the Occupy movement can watch from a tent city somewhere in a warm climate, they should hurry off and find a third party candidate who in their daydreams can do so much better against congress than Obama has done alone, and we’ll all lose and the country will make Karl Rovian "progress" backwards to the glory days of Calvin Coolidge when human beings and dinosaurs dwelled the earth together.. 
There was one day in Paris when Susan and I took the longest walk, starting where we were staying, on Rue Cler, crossing the Seine on Pont l'Alma, angling up Rue Montaigne and intersecting Champs Elysees, strolling the Tuileries all the way to the Louvre, crossing back on Pont Royal basically threading the needle between the far reaches of the Louvre on the Right Bank and the Musee d'Orsay on the left, proceeding up Rue du Bac (a favorite street during our stay), then bending into the Jardin du Luxembourg, across to the Pantheon, down to Shakespeare and Co. on the river across from Notre Dame. We crossed onto Ile St Louis, and dipped into Le Marais for ice cream which we ate on the bridge, Pont Louis Philippe. From there we contemplated finding Hemingway and Hadley's place on Rue Cardinal Lemoine, which we could see from the bridge receding into the Latin Quarter. A Moveable Feast traced the route. In that book Hemingway, conscious of the fact that he was remembering first hand from the 1950's his days in Paris during the Lost Generation years, that famous literary heyday from back when writers earnestly engaged themselves in writing what we called then "books" (see wikipedia for a definition and an illustration) -- conscious as he was of how one day we would romanticize the literary Paris of the '20's because the romance of writing and books would nosedive, he took special care to write not only the ethereal spirit of Paris but the physical place itself, the beauty and vitality of the streets, of the people, of the language. I have to say, the beauty and vitality have survived.
Hop in. I'm figuring out right now how we might include you from your home if you don't live in the area and want to work along with us in a six hour workshop to write a story by afternoon you didn't know you'd write in the morning. 
I was watching Japan dying today on MSNBC, and in other news, was so very happy to hear the Right Wing champing at the bit to invade Libya. They were mad at the President for inaction. They never saw a war they couldn't afford, these people who are so worried about "entitlements," health care to the less fortunate, and balancing the budget. When it comes to helping people, including Americans but most obviously people in foreign countries, suddenly the old anal retentiveness sets in and they get that addled look my dog gets when I want him to crap and it's raining. We can't quite think what to do when it comes to helping. We send in 74 guys from the elite Task Force 1 from the Fairfax, VA fire department, with rescue and recovery dogs. We send in some ships with some aid, and some helicopters, but ultimately this “help” says more about our inability to conceive of the size of the disaster. Why don't we invade Japan with help, swarm over the debacle, with tents, water, blankets, food, boatloads of medical personnel, soldiers to clear the debris and rebuild. Send the Army Corps of Engineers. Draft people into service to go help. Draft Glen Beck, I’m sure he’d be willing to serve, and I’d serve right beside him. Are there only 50 brave men and women on the planet to pour water on those melting rods, but an unlimited number to play shoot 'em up in selected small dictatorships and kingdoms we've tolerated for years but that now have us in a bad mood? Isn't intervening in this disaster a more important endeavor than kicking the snot out of another tiny country with overwhelming military force? Isn't there a strong argument that saving Japan from a most horrific ruination is more important? Remember "Right to Life"? Remember "Family Values"? Remember "Christianity"? Remember true heroism? Remember international trade and the stock market? Doesn't Japan right now present us with a 21st century opportunity for a new model of global leadership, one that doesn’t include killing people? If we can even contemplate another war, why can't we motivate ourselves to save lives and help an ally with fervor equal to or greater than bombing and shooting? This is our chance to unHiroshima our Karma and square ourselves with modern history. Here's a chance to do something we can all agree on with that untouchable defense budget; here's a chance to do combat with global disaster. We need to start getting good at it, because the disasters are getting bigger and I’m almost certain our national lucky days are numbered. Why can't just once we be an overwhelming force for humanity and the Greater Good like we think we are in our dreams?
In her celebrated new collection Ann Beattie: The New Yorker Stories, I went searching for a couple of stories in particular. In my classes and my own mythology about the past, I thought I remembered that Beattie had begun scoring The New Yorker in the early seventies. Turns out her first one was in the April 8, 1974 issue. I once asked her, this was ten years ago or so, what her favorite story (of her own) was. John Updike had fairly recently edited Best American Short Stories of the Century, and had included in that celebrated volume her story “Janus,” which was in the 1986 Best American Short Stories. And while that selection worked well in Updike’s overall editorial scheme, I had an opinion what her very best story was (don’t we all?) and was curious to see what the master herself would deem her best. As I say, this is old information and has probably changed by now, but she said “The Burning House” was her favorite, and I’ve said on this blog that my traditional favorite is a little beauty titled “Waiting.” The pieces in Beattie’s collection of New Yorker stories are arranged in chronological order, from the April 8, ’74 story "A Platonic Relationship" forward to “The Confidence Decoy” in November of ’06 (she's continued to place stories there since then, but that's the span of this new collection). Surveying the table of contents, what pleasure I got from finding “The Burning House” and “Waiting” back to back, both having appeared in The New Yorker (a week apart) in June of ’79. It was back in the days when Beattie led a school of writing called Minimalism, and two more muscular samples of minimalism would be hard to find. Her famous first person present tense is right there in the first sentence of “The Burning House”: “Freddy Fox is in the kitchen with me.” Using present tense like that, the reader can never see anything coming. There is no anticipating from accumulated evidence. One thing after another happens. Our point of view character is stoned by the bottom of the second page and so is dicey even reporting what we need to know as it happens. A family friend, J.D., is late for the dinner gathering. Our narrator is washing dishes at the sink when J.D. pops up in the kitchen window right over the sink – he’s wearing a goat-head mask and scares crap out of her. It’s two paragraphs later before we learn that she cut her hand when she reacted. It is a characteristic of the social events at this house that her husband’s friends, all male, make the scene, never any other women, and a lot of the interaction in the story is stuff she hears from the kitchen while the men are shooting the shit in the living room. Freddy Fox, her husband’s gay half brother, stays in the kitchen with her. They all seem to be early thirty somethings. They’ve known each other, all these friends, and of course the half brother, many years and history plays through the conversations. Our narrator is lonely; her husband controls most of what goes on. Because of present tense, even though there’s access to the interiority of our narrator, we only feel the relationship of the husband and wife in the story is shaky, we don’t know it. But in bed that night they have a conversation and the reality of the dismal, deteriorating marriage they have rolls over them and us all at once in the last lines.
On 10/10/10 evening Susan and I trundled out to the University of Central Florida arena to see Bob Dylan. I thought I should see him since a scene from a 1975 Rolling Thunder Revue concert is central to a story of mine, "Lowell and the Rolling Thunder." I was a follower of Dylan and Baez long, long, long ago, and saw with commentary the scene I describe in the story in the Scorsese film "No Direction Home." Susan had seen Dylan three times over the years, in different stages of his life. 
We arrived in Argentina June 21, a few hours after it turned winter there. While Bali is about 10 degrees south of the equator, Buenos Aires is 35 degrees south. One evening in San Antonio de Areco, where the gaucho picture above was taken (there were festivities going on and I was putting the dodge on dancing), several us went out far out away from the out buildings on the ranch and, standing next to the fence for a giant pasture, we looked up and scanned the sky to see if we could spot the Southern Cross. I didn’t know what proportion to look for. Would I have to sort of glue it together in my mind like I do the Big Dipper, or would it jump at me at a glance, like Orion’s belt. Well, it jumped at me. The Southern Cross hangs in the night sky of the Southern Hemisphere like a crucifix on the wall at home when you were growing up. I know, not everybody's Catholic, but 92 percent of Argentina is. It is a beautiful, stately four star configuration (technically five star but the key cross figure is the four points you’d expect to form a t shape). It was not small but it was rather compact, so the entire effect of it hits the eye at once and with startling force. That was the evening of our first night in the country, after eleven days in the city, Buenos Aires.
On the occasion of the launch of Volume II of Rollins College's specs journal, a celebratory reading will take place this coming Thursday, Oct. 8, 7:30 in Bush Auditorium on the Rollins campus. I'm happy to pass along the news that the great Patricia Smith will read. Smith, who has two poems in this issue of specs, is something else entirely, let me tell you. Join us and see. You won't soon forget it.