Think globally and act locally.  So many wonderful stories here to tell–and to share with the world.

Harry Ricketts, a poet who has also written a celebrated biography of Rudyard Kipling, gave me a copy of his mini-chapbook, “How to Live Elsewhere.”  This is part of the Montana Estates Essay Series Titles, featuring Damien Wilkins, Bill Manhire and Simon Morris, along with other prominent New Zealand writers.  The chapbooks have been discontinued by its sponsor, Montana Estates vineyards, but this is a great idea and a lovely series.

I actually did a back to back interview from the ABC studios–first with Ramona and then with Lynn Freeman in Wellington, New Zealand.  Another terrific interview–this time focusing on the new Creative Nonfiction Magazine and my new memoir, written with my son Sam, TRUCKIN’ WITH SAM.  It’s the story of our travels around the world–and my struggle to be an effective “old-new dad.”  Sam and I are actually in New Zealand together right now.  I will be doing a master class at Victoria University, Wednesday, followed by a reading (with Sam) at the City Gallery at 600 p.m., Thursday.

She conducted a great interview on ABC Radio.  I was in Sydney and she was at her headquarters in Melbourne, but she talked with me as if we were seated side by side.  Mostly we discussed my new creative nonfiction anthology, “Becoming a Doctor.”  Also the new magazine–formerly the journal, Creative Nonfiction.  Heard from a number of people after the interview, including the writer-physician Leah Kaminsky, former writer-in-residence at Bar Ilan University.  She’s the editor of a collection of nonfiction and fiction stories by prominent doctor-writers called “The Pen & the Stethoscope,” which will be published this year by Scribe Publications.  Not many doctor-writer anthologies around–which is odd–because physicians and writers are a great deal alike–both living solitary existences, both dealing with the everyday drama of life and death.

The 12 recipients of this fellowship award–selected from 177 applicants–will be announced on the Consortium for Science Policy & Outcomes website (www.cspo.org) and on this blog–tomorrow.  To Think, To Write, To Publish will bring together “next generation” writers interested in science and policy with “next gen” science policy scholars in a unique collaborative creative nonfiction writing project.  Editors, agents will work with writers for publication possibilities.  More about To Think, To Write, to Publish soon.

In what may or may not be a scathing review in the June 21 Times Book Review of Reif Larsen’s first novel, the Times television critic Ginia Bellafante indicates that she knew that Larsen had an MFA simply by reading his prose.  “It would not be necessary to consult the author bio,” she says.  The novel, The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet, Bellafante says, is “sometimes” beautifully written, but “plagued by that sense of writers workshop insularity: it doesn’t aim to mean much.” 

I should say that I am not in any way a fan of writers’ workshops.  I believe that MFA writing teachers find it easier and less demanding to workshop than having to present useful craft lectures, and that students appreciate and often crave and covet the ego trip that workshops provide.  But workshops, in moderation, are often quite useful, providing a literate reading audience to emerging writers.  Even accomplished writers—very prestigious authors—are part of writing groups with readers that provide feedback, criticism and support.

So I think it is basically unfair and ill-conceived for Bellafante or any writer to arbitrarily write off the contribution of workshops.  And her idea that workshops focus on style (creativity) without substance (meaning) is equally off base.  Effective workshops—and I have been a part of quite a few of them—focus equally on style and substance.  Style first, perhaps, because style (narrative) will often lead to substance and meaning.   I think a problem with workshops is that they are not long enough. and they lead young writers to believe that, because the term is done and grades have been posted, they are finished with their work.  Workshops are beginnings—months and sometimes years of revision and development should follow.

Besides, I think that book reviewers like Bellafante can suffer from the same kind of insularity, writing prose that lacks meaning.  For example, her review begins:  “A relatively short time ago, short time ago [repetition is either mysteriously stylistic or a proofreader’s error], in what was to some that heavenly stretch predating the fall 2008 financial quarter, people spent money on things.”  As examples she names: “executives on gilded office renovations; uptown women on Restylane and luxury retail; and publishers, occasionally, on fiction by the young and unknown.”  Her point, which she eventually gets around to, is that Larsen “with his explorer’s name and brief history promoting a Botswanan marimba band” was paid a million dollar advance for this book. 

So why begin a review with such snide and irrelevant information—speaking of meaning?  She is obviously annoyed, as we all are, by the ineptitude and shallowness of the publishing industry, but it is not Larsen’s fault.  The book should be judged on its merit—not on its advance.  And, speaking of meaning, here’s Bellafante’s first description of the book:  “ . . . each page seems a vitrine constructed to exhibit the author’s discursive, magpie imagination.”

After you figure out what that means, you can Google Restylane.

Let’s be honest: the literary market is competitive. Here at Creative Nonfiction, for example, only 1% of the tens of thousands of submissions we’ve received over the years have found their way into print—pretty discouraging odds, especially to an emerging writer.

So how do you enter that elite 1%? What are editors looking for? And how can you get their attention?

Sometimes it all starts with the beginning.

In textbook journalism, the beginning of an article (often called the lede), covers the famous Five W’s–who, what, when, where and why (and sometimes how). But because the primary purpose in creative nonfiction is not so much to communicate quickly the basic information of a story as it is to draw readers in, the lede functions somewhat differently.

In creative nonfiction, the beginning of a story may not capture the Five W’s; often, some of the answers to those essential questions are purposely held back to enhance suspense and to allow the narrative to develop more organically. The lede also has a more complex function for the writer; it tells the writer where to take the reader and when to introduce ideas, themes and characters. The lede, in other words, leads. It gets the writer going and fuels momentum.

While revising, however, the writer usually has to return to the beginning of the piece and decide whether the first lede is still necessary. Often it is not; the first lede, writers often discover, was just a tool or triggering device that allowed the writer to get to the "real lead."



Dedicated to the art of crafting a better beginning, the latest issue of Creative Nonfiction, “First Lede, Real Lead,” offers readers a rare and instructive look into the editorial process.

We eliminated the original beginnings of three essays and started them a few paragraphs or pages later. Our goal was to make the beginnings more immediate, to eliminate some writerly throat-clearing, to help plunge readers into the heart of the story–the action, the theme, the substance–from the very beginning.

But did these changes, in fact, make the stories more effective? And what, if anything, was lost in the editing process?

You can read the essays in their edited form in the journal, and online you can see the pieces as they were originally submitted, with graphics that demonstrate not only what was removed during editing, but also what was moved further into the pieces and, in some cases, what was added.

You’ll be able to read author statements explaining how they really feel about what we did to their work. Plus, you can join the online discussion about the "first lede/real lead" process.

Follow this FIRST LEDE, REAL LEAD link to see the first essay and tell us what you think: Did our edits improve or destroy the three essays?

And don’t forget to check back frequently; we’ll be posting the next one soon!

Over the past few weeks, many of my colleagues learned that I was teaching my last semester at the University of Pittsburgh and taking another position at Arizona State University in Tempe, Az. Since then, the rumor has been spreading. People I run into on the street say, "I hear you’re leaving Pittsburgh." Or mutual friends and relatives say to one another, "Lee is leaving town."

Well, the rumors are only partly true. I resigned from the University of Pittsburgh’s English Department in order to take a dual appointment at ASU. I will be serving as Distinguished Writer in Residence at the Consortium for Science, Policy & Outcomes–where I will launch a narrative nonfiction book series, among other things–and as a Professor at the Hugh Downs School for Human Communication–where I will teach an MFA creative nonfiction workshop once a year, open to grad students, faculty and others interested in learning how to communicate through personal narrative. ASU is also providing generous support to my journal, Creative Nonfiction, and I will be affiliated with the prestigious Virginia G. Piper Center for Creative Writing.

These are all things I have been wanting to do for a long time–helping scientists, engineers, nurses, lawyers, philosophers, etc. share what they know with a general audience, writing and editing new books, along with working with emerging writers, contributing to the growth of the genre through the journal and through my workshops–and ASU has made all of this possible.

But that doesn’t necessarily mean that I am leaving Pitt or Pittsburgh. You don’t leave a place where you have lived, worked and learned all your life.

Most people don’t know that I was an undergraduate at Pitt. My mentor, Montgomery Culver, helped champion the writing program at its very beginning. Endorsed and supported by Monty, I became the youngest member of our department and, as time passed, the only tenured full professor in the faculty of Arts and Sciences–and perhaps the entire university–without an advanced degree. Over the years, among other things, I helped start the creative writing program and design and build the creative nonfiction component. I served as co-founder and chairperson of the Student Publications Board, founded the journal, The Pennsylvania Review, started the Pitt Writers’ Conference and kept it going for ten years, and served as director of the writing program. So my roots at Pitt are deep with memory and eternal appreciation.

As to the city of Pittsburgh, even though I am moving on, I am not burning bridges. My family and many friends and countless former students are in Pittsburgh. The headquarters of Creative Nonfiction is here, as is my house in the Shadyside section where I have lived for thirty years, with its tiny carriage house, the last blacksmith shop in Shadyside, tucked behind it.

So I will be in Pittsburgh, but I will also be in Arizona, working with new colleagues who have been open, friendly, generous and responsive–providing exciting opportunities for achievement, collaboration and friendship.

So when people say, "Are you leaving Pittsburgh?" I say, Not exactly. I say that I am going to be teaching and working at ASU, but that I am not burning bridges. I say that I am anxious to maintain my Pitt connection, to forge links between ASU and Pitt, to support my former Pitt students and my upcoming ASU students, to promote cross-cultural experiences. I don’t believe the message in the title of Thomas Wolfe’s novel, You Can’t Go Home Again. I believe that you can integrate two or more homes into your life, that good friends and colleagues need not be separated by such categories as "old" and "new" and that I will become a more well-rounded and fulfilled person, writer, editor and teacher by embracing both my past and my future with passion, commitment and vigor.

After all, that’s what life is all about, isn’t it?

While The Best Creative Nonfiction, Volume 2, makes its way to subscribers and bookstores around the country, CNF has already begun to compile Volume 3–due out Summer 2009.

As you know, this annual publication collects the best fact-based narratives–mined from blogs, alternative papers, literary journals, and other out-of-the-way publications–and this year, we’ve decided to let you, the readers, help us in our search.

The details:

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Creative Nonfiction is seeking narrative blog posts to reprint in The Best Creative Nonfiction, Volume 3, edited by Lee Gutkind, forthcoming in August 2009 from W. W. Norton.

We’re looking for: Vibrant new voices with interesting, true stories to tell. Narrative, narrative, narrative. Posts that can stand alone, 2000 words max, from 2008. Something from your own blog, from a friend’s blog, from a stranger’s blog.

The small print: We will contact individual bloggers before publication; we pay a flat $50 fee for one-time reprint rights. Deadline: October 31, 2008.

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To nominate, click here.

Bonus: if we choose a blog you nominated, we’ll send you one of our nifty "Creative Nonfiction: You Can’t Make This Stuff Up!" mugs.

Become a part of the CNF editorial process and nominate today!

Because Creative Nonfiction is based in Pittsburgh, I like to think that our city is an epicenter of this style of writing. Its roots are here. So, as the city approaches its 250th anniversary, we’ve been hard at work on our Pittsburgh in Words project: a website, a reading and a publication.

The website went live about a month ago and features some of the best true stories ever written about the city and its people, by some very well-known writers—Annie Dillard, Stewart O’Nan and many others. CNF almost always publishes new work, and it is rare that we have the opportunity to reach back in time and rediscover lost literary treasures. And while CNF has always published some of the biggest names in the genre, it is also a central part of our mission to discover and develop new voices. Unlike most other magazines and journals, we coach and mentor emerging writers as they work, helping them develop their voice and awareness of literary structure. The Pittsburgh in Words publication (available soon in a limited run) will especially reflect this mission; featuring new work by seven writers with a connection to the city, some whose creative writing has never been published. Furthermore, these seven writers will read from their work on October 2 at the Pittsburgh in Words reading that kicks off the 2008 Creative Nonfiction Writers’ Conference. Assembling this project, combining emerging writers with those buried by time, has been an honor and a delight.

As a whole, Pittsburgh in Words—the publication and the Web site—demonstrates that a city can be more than the sum of the usual stories told about it. True, you will find steel mills here, and football and pierogies and rivers—but that’s just the beginning. And in this collection of compelling, electrifying, enlightening narrative nonfiction prose, you’ll also discover one of the city’s best-kept secrets: Pittsburgh is a place for writers, and it always has been.