you don't have to be a genius

From "How I Write: A Conversation with Nancy Packer"
Feb 3, 2011 at Stanford University
(Available from iTunes U)

A writer's process is often as interesting as the writing. Here are some excerpts from a conversation with Nancy Packer.

On the process:

I realized you didn't have to be a genius... Not everyone is Faulkner. That there is room... it was not closed to me... That was an important lesson.

Don't share your work with your friends. Share it with people who know what they're doing.

Chekhov said to his brother - go to Moscow where you can find other writers. Go where there are writers. 

If you're trying to write, you can't wash socks or mow the lawn... you have to have a regular time. Once I had that established, then I was okay. ... I did the work. I stayed at the typewriter. ... Three pages and out.

On the audience:

You're not writing for yourself... You write to communicate with somebody. Who is it that you're trying to communicate with? 

Frank O'Connor once said that he wrote for the man in the armchair. 

I'm writing for ... somebody like me who isn't a writer. ... That's my audience. ... I'm not going to write down to try to appeal to an audience, because my audience doesn't want that. 

On why:

That moment when what you've just done is exactly right. ... Maybe a sentence, maybe a word, but whatever it was, was exactly perfect.

The story starts with a character and then the character takes over. 

I never gave up my writing. I never gave up wanting to be a successful writer, even during the darkest time.

http://events.stanford.edu/events/258/25871/
http://news.stanford.edu/stanfordtoday/ed/9607/9607np01.shtml

what the kids say

Tonight my 4-year-old looked up from his plate and said, "Is there meat in my hotdog?"

I don't like to lie to the kids. I knew I was on shaky ground. My kid doesn't like meat. Anymore, he doesn't like to eat anything except for candy and ice cream. He used to eat mac & cheese and apples and pizza. Even these go-to foods are no longer a sure bet.

"You know," I said, "it's a hot dog." So that's not really an answer, and it's possibly a lie by omission. But incredibly, it seemed to work, and he went back to eating. It was only good for two more bites and then, pushing back from the table, he declared it wasn't the kind of hot dog he usually likes.

My older son just turned six, and he's making relevant observations about his world all the time. It's hard to keep up with everything the kids say, but I won't soon forget that he got in trouble for calling his teacher a name. What name?

"I called my teacher Fatty McBeautiful. She didn't like the Fatty Mc part."

He didn't laugh once telling me this. The other morning while getting ready for school, he turned to me with a serious expression on his face.

"You know what? When a burp loses its way, it comes out of your butt."

These are typical conversations at my house. My kids love fat stuff and anything to do with farts.

I've heard that your brain can only hold so much new information. It becomes saturated, and after that, all new information pushes out the old stuff. I know I should feel horrible, but I can't remember what it is I've forgotten.