What Do You Want Your Writing to Do? (Josh Intro) (05/08/2021)

What Do You Want Your Writing to Do? | The Weekly Atticus

A recap of the week's writing at Atticus Review. Intro by Joshua Raff.

When my long career as a lawyer was winding down a few years ago, I thought about how writing could play a larger part in my life. I had worked on some posts I was invited to write for a friend’s food blog and a few travel pieces but needed direction. My wife pointed me to the limited residency MFA program in creative non-fiction offered by the University of King’s College in Halifax, N.S. I had not considered going back to school. It seemed ludicrous. The world’s oldest student, I thought. Why not just relax? Write the occasional post, read some books, have lunch. I love lunch. I received the bios of my fellow students. Quite a few were writers. Many of them published. What could I have been thinking? Lawyers like me do a lot of writing and, it has always been one of the favorite parts of my job. But legal writing is different than other types of writing. For a lawyer, the primary goal is to be clear. And thorough. Calling it an art might be a stretch, although it is certainly a skill. Before any of that can happen, you have to do the legal analysis, the thinking, the research. Not so different from other types of writing. Most legal writing is done in the interests of a client, to persuade. It does not reveal the personal. In that respect, it has suited me perfectly. On the first day of classes, we all shared pieces we had prepared for our meeting. I felt totally exposed. That day and in the days to come, I asked myself more than once what the hell I was doing. Eventually, though, I realized I had something to offer. Decades of reading widely, across genres, styles, voices, had actually prepared me to contribute. A few days in, I called my wife: “This is the best thing I have ever done. We sit around for hours talking about books and writing and ideas. Fantastic.” I admired the immediacy, the honesty, the intimacy, of my classmates’ writing. My writing seemed stiff, formal, and remote by comparison. At one point in the second-year of the residency, our mentor asked each of us what we wanted to work on. I responded without even thinking, “I want to find emotion,” to break through that formality and distance. I wrote a short piece about having to tell my mother, who was recovering from a fall, that my father had died. I allowed myself to dive into my feelings as deeply as I ever have. Lost in writing a few hundred words, I missed my next scheduled meeting. I read the piece to my mentor group the next day, then again at the student reading event that evening. People were crying. And most surprisingly, I found a part of me that had been locked away for years. Not that writing is therapy. But exploring and describing my feelings opened me up in a way that surprised even those closest to me. What a gift.   Now, several years later, I write most days, read every day. I have had a few articles published and have rejections to neatly match up with all but one of the other pieces I have submitted. I am sure that last rejection will arrive momentarily. But there is no way to be published if you do not send out your work. Even if it means collecting rejections. I have developed a voice. My writing sounds like me. Each time I sit down to work on a piece, I recall the advice my first-year legal writing teacher gave to me, that still resonates, “Read each sentence, each paragraph, figure out what you are really trying to say, then say that instead of what you have written.” Advice to write by. Oh, and make it beautiful. Thanks for reading. We're glad you're here. Joshua RaffCreative Nonfiction Reader

Congratulations to these Atticus Review Contributors for being selected for the Best Small Fictions Anthology, 2021.

We've added several new books to our reading list. Go check it out!Are you a contributor to Atticus Review who'd like your book featured in the reading list? Send us an email at [email protected]. 

THIS WEEK AT ATTICUS

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