As per a recent Nielsen poll, eighty-seven percent of respondents are “interested in seeing more content featuring people from outside their identity group.” Yet the data shows that TV writers rooms continue to exclude historically underserved dramatists.
Because audiences and advertisers both crave more diverse, inclusive, and equitable content, the Think Tank for Inclusion and Equity – a consortium of working TV writers sponsored by Women In Film, Los Angeles – has surveyed more than eight hundred seventy-five working writers for their fourth annual report, “Behind the Scenes: The State of Inclusion & Equity in TV Writing.” Deadline reports that the TTIE’s findings are sobering, but not surprising. Women, BIPOC, the disabled, and low-income writers continue to square off against measurable favoritism in Hollywood.
I recently wrote about the bigoted hiring practices I’ve faced throughout the field of content creation in this blog post as a gay, gender-queer, disabled man. Since American capitalism dominates our post-Cold War world, it is an act of systemic and institutional violence to deny these communities the access to resources they need for survival. Yes, I work a day job that pays the bills, but it is increasingly incompatible with my life-threatening mental illnesses to daily settle for less than my passions, my qualifications, and my talents.
“The Grammarian” is a columnist with the “Inquirer.” He argues the dictionary definitions of “manifesto” elevate the Buffalo shooter’s rantings.
The eighteen-year-old accused of killing ten people at a grocery store last week in Buffalo wrote a hundred-eighty pages of racist and deplorable literature leading up to the crime. The Philadelphia Inquirer, though, says it is unethical to refer to this diatribe as a “manifesto,” like so many mass media outlets have done (including the Inquirer itself). NPR is quoted in this column as saying, “‘Not using the word ‘Manifesto’ in no way deprives our audience of information, it helps deprive the shooter of the platform he was looking for.'”
The shooter “seeks to be an ‘individual … of public relevance’ — a status we’d rather not grant him,” writes “The Grammarian” about the first dictionary definition of the word “manifesto” he discusses here. “If it’s the second, then his screed’s propoundment of the ‘great replacement’ theory — a racist assertion that white people are being ‘replaced’ in America and Europe by nonwhites — suddenly becomes a ’cause,’ and we also shouldn’t grant him that.” The news has come a long way since the Columbine High School massacre in 1999, when shock rocker Marilyn Manson castigated them in Rolling Stone for making “folk heroes” out of those two murderers, but until violence in America becomes a thing of the past, we must always critically deconstruct these stories at the word level.
Writing competitions are key to gaining exposure for both emerging as well as established authors. The “Mother’s Day Confessions” Challenge encourages entrants to write either a nonfictional or fictional open letter between six hundred and five thousand words based on the prompt, “Hey, Mom. I never told you this before, but…”
The first-place winner walks away with two thousand five hundred dollars; second place, one thousand; and fifteen runners-up will receive fifty dollars each.
In the interest of full transparency, you do have to pay for a Vocal membership to participate in their challenges. Mine costs me ten dollars per month. But they do pay you three dollars and eighty cents for every thousand reads, and the audience who finds you through one of their communities can tip you directly.
If this sounds like a worthwhile investment for you, then I encourage you to visit vocal.media.
Nick Stone is a former corporate lawyer who started writing poetry in his retirement. In August, when he was diagnosed with stage four metastatic prostate cancer and given twenty months to live, he decided to keep writing.
Eighty-nine-year-old Nick Stone has written dozens of pages of “left-brain” work, such as legal briefs and filings, for decades. However, the Portland Press Herald reports that he started engaging the right side of his brain when he composed poetry for the first time after retiring to Maine from his career as a corporate lawyer in Boston. Now that he’s diagnosed with metastatic prostate cancer and has just months left to live, “Stone only wants to keep writing.”
It is almost otherworldly, what comfort writing can bring – even to the dying. Stone’s poetry gives him something to come alive for. No matter how late in life it is – even near the end – a writer’s time can come.
This next generation will face the most direct impact from climate change, young people of color most of all. That is why the Iowa Youth Writing Project’s latest program, Writing on the Environment, is working to engage elementary schoolers in Iowa City with this reality.
On a field trip to the park at Cangleska Wakan in early May, students from Iowa City Community School District were tasked with composing nature journals, eco-poems, and nonfiction about their experience. According to the Iowa City Press-Citizen, “It was part of the Iowa Youth Writing Project’s new program, Writing on the Environment, which invites students to write about the subject through lessons and exploration.” Three schools were selected for this initiative based upon their student populations who “may have higher economic need and those with more students of color,” since “‘communities of color are more affected by issues of climate change'” and “‘if we want to make a difference, make inroads in addressing those problems, we need to make sure that those communities are involved in finding solutions,'” says Patrick Snyder, elementary science and social studies coordinator with ICCSD.
Everyone reading this should applaud the IYWP for recognizing the intersection between science, literature, and social studies, as well as how critical that overlap is to inspiring meaningful action. Indeed, Melanie Hester, a fifth grade teacher at Alexander Elementary School for the past seven years, “observed how one of her students, who has ‘barely’ spoken throughout the year, ended up leading his group through the trail and back to its meeting spot.” With this kind of encouragement, children like that can grow up empowered to overcome otherwise insurmountable challenges for the good of all.
Before he founded FreeWriters in the fall of 2019, Nate Johnson worked as a prosecutor in southern Minnesota. Now, the free-writing program has raked in more than three thousand pieces of writing from more than a thousand inmates.
During his prosecutorial career in southern Minnesota, Nate Johnson mentored “a highly gifted young man named Joe,” who was serving a probationary sentence after “an extremely traumatic childhood.” While sitting down for an interview with the Star Tribune, Johnson said Joe eventually violated the terms of his probation in the fall of 2019, serving a sixty-day jail sentence with nothing but Bible lessons and twelve-step meetings to accompany him. Drawing from his experience with a workshop at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis, Johnson taught Joe the art of free-writing “to help him stay sane;” this would evolve into the prison writing program “FreeWriters,” which encourages participants to complete three five-minute writing exercises per class.
If you’ve ever jaywalked or loitered in the United States, you’ve broken the law – that’s why Johnson’s efforts are so commendable in a country with the largest prison population in the world, where more citizens are incarcerated per capita than any military dictatorship. More than one inmate-writer claims FreeWriters positively impacted their mental health. “Thank you for getting me outta the unit,” one is quoted as saying.
Jendella Benson’s debut novel, “Hope and Glory,” takes place in the London neighborhood of Peckham, (in)famous for its gentrification. As she approaches this setting with the same eye for world-building as writers of fantasy of science fiction, Benson learns something new about her own community.
In her contribution to Literary Hub, Jendella Benson dismisses the word “gentrification” as “cliché.” She writes, “It is a flat term that speaks of boxy rooms in new build apartments and nameless hipsters and craft beer.” Instead, her debut novel, Hope and Glory, seeks to characterize the gentrified (Benson herself can’t afford to live in the setting for her own book anymore), whilst acknowledging the systemic and institutional phenomenon of “gentrification” at the same time.
Although I haven’t experienced gentrification as a white American who grew up in the Middle Class neighborhoods of South Metro Denver, I’ve witnessed it firsthand. People can’t afford to live in their own communities, turned out onto the streets after one delinquent rent payment too many, where drugs are their only solace and crime is their only access to our society’s capitalistic resources for survival. I may not be the right one who can speak to it, but I call upon all the Jendella Bensons of the world to do it for themselves.
Rebecca Scherm began writing “A House Between Earth and the Moon” while pregnant in 2014 to ease her anxieties about the world her first child would inherit. Much like childbirth, the process was painful, but miraculous.
For many expecting mothers, the world today can strike the fear of God into the heart; for writers like Rebecca Scherm, that dread is an opportunity “not to calm myself, exactly, but to run my imagination all the way out, until it exhausts itself.” Contributing to Literary Hub, Scherm describes the creative process behind her science fiction novel, A House Between Earth and the Moon, which follows a family as they flee the dying planet for a space station in 2033. In forcing herself to research the realities of climate change she’d once upon a time avoided, Scherm writes, “This novel changed me from someone who writes about a need for change into someone desperate to bring those changes to life.”
As loath as I am to regurgitate pull quote after pull quote (especially in a blog post this brief), Scherm is the best writer I’d never heard of before today, and she deserves the same recognition as all the other women authors dominating the post-J.K. Rowling marketplace; Gillian Flynn springs most readily to mind as a worthy contemporary. Anyway, Scherm speaks for herself with more of a voice than anyone else could hope to capture, such as with the course-correction in lifestyle she outlines here: “I started down a path of climate activism through native plant gardening—for biodiversity, for carbon capture, for reacquainting people with the more-than-human world around them—and this path has felt like a kind of salvation.” Sometimes, meaningful action is as deceptively simple as the hope native plant gardening brings to a new mother, and Scherm has her own imaginative literature to thank for that “salvation.”
Doerr, who won the Pulitzer Prize for the modern classic “All the Light We Cannot See,” discusses with Julianne Gee of the Boise State University “Arbiter” how drawing engages him to write with greater complexity. Doerr briefly worked with their creative writing department.
After the publication of his latest book, Cloud Cuckoo Land, in September, Anthony Doerr sat down for an interview with The Arbiter in Idaho. Doerr is quoted as saying, “Growing up, you always think good novelists live in Brazil and Buenos Aires or Paris or they’re dead. Every day you have to give yourself permission and say, ‘You know, even though I live right here in Boise, it’s okay to try to make something that people might read in Brazil or in Paris.'”
We study Doerr extensively in the Master of Arts program for professional creative writing at the University of Denver; he is, without hyperbole, one of the most gifted authors working today, and you could do far worse than learn from his comedic timing in his sentences, or the grander storytelling structures he erects out of this acumen for the micro level. Like all masters of the written word, he knows how to make it appear as though he comes by this skillset naturally, but, during the prewriting phase for Cloud Cuckoo Land, he reveals he scaffolded the outline with a diagram. As for what inspired him to write with such wealth and depth, Doerr attributes it to his grandmother’s Alzheimer’s disease – “I just thought I’m going to try the most complicated thing I can try right now, while I still can,” he says.