PRINTED MATTERS

I've been a member of this group for almost seven years, long enough to see two distinct phases of our chapter's performance in the annual SCWW anthology competition: From 1995-1997 we kicked butt, the past three years we were also-rans.

Here are some facts about the good old days. In 1995 we had "Best of Issue" in all three categories, fiction, essay and poetry. Out of seventeen fiction entries, seven went to our members. We did equally well in essays, taking six of thirteen. Five Greenville folks had their poems selected.

In 1996 we had "Best of Issue" in both fiction and essay. We also had eight members with selected works in fiction, three in essay and five in poetry. Four of our group each had three different selections in the anthology.

In 1997, the anthology coordinators began awarding second and third place winners in each category. The Greenville Chapter won all three top positions in fiction and essay. An incredible aberration occurred in the poetry category, where the only member of our group to place was me, Phil Arnold, noted non-poet. Perhaps it was an omen of bad things to come.

Such as these: In 1998 we had no first, second or third place winners in any category. Our chapter scored only three fiction pieces, two essays and three poems. In 1999 we managed a tie for third in fiction. Our total performance was three pieces of short fiction, two essays and two poems. And finally, last year we earned only one selection in fiction, three in essay, and one in poetry.

There are some reasons for this worth mentioning. Randy Crew went back to school, then started a new career, so his writing output dropped off. Russ Burns spent the best part of two years winning the fight against cancer. Suzanne Heagy moved to Indiana, Doug Smith pursued other retirement interests, and Gene Fehler advanced to the SCWW Advisory Council and stopped submitting to the anthology.

However, we have had many new members join the group since 1997, good writers, too. I know we have the talent, but do we have the drive, the will, the determination? Let's prove we do. So, how about it? Can we all get motivated and enter this year's competition? It's time for the Greenville chapter to kick butt again.

Printed Matters has now officially entered the Digital Age with our first E-dition. Most of you should be seeing this in HTML enhanced (Web Page) format, hopefully without any distracting markup tags showing. For those of you who are still seeing this in print, I'd love to add you to the e-mail list. You will get your newsletter days earlier and save a stamp and a tree in the process (maybe not a whole tree, but at least a twig or two). To change your subscription, please drop me an e-mail at verviers@earthlink.net

As we make this bold technological leap in the new millennium (yes, as of 01/01/2001 it's finally really here) do you know who the Founding Editor of our newsletter was, and our newsletter's original name? Clue: that person is still an active member of the Greenville Chapter.

There are Elvis fans, and then there is Phil Arnold. Phil's article, Does VH1 Hate Elvis--Or Are They Just Stupid, entertained us with verbal shots at the VH1 Top 100 selections for album, artists, songs, and moments that did NOT give the King his due. Fascinating facts (did you know the 1956 album, "Elvis Presley," changed the buying habits of American teens?) and statistics ("Blue Hawaii," the album, stayed on the charts for over a year and was number one for an incredible 20 weeks) made Phil's case. Well written and "heart felt," Phil clearly knows his Elvis and writes with a passion that holds his audience until the last "Hunka, hunka, burnin' love." Look for this fine piece of writing in the next copy of Elvis Magazine.

Andi Buckless gave us another delightful presentation of children's literature, this time a touching story of a child coming to terms with her grandmother's cancer treatment. "I love how your characters say such loving things to each other" says it all for how this story affected the group. Titled Nanna's Hair, this future picture book is a perfect treatment of an issue many young hearts are dealing with today. I particularly enjoyed the colorful variety of hats Nanna wore and that Mary, the grandchild, also wore a chef's hat when she make cookies with Nanna. Andi could be the School Marm in my town anytime.

Kevin Parrish, rector of St. Michael's Episcopal Church and protagonist in SCWW member Michael Thimsen's unnamed novel, has writer's block. Hey, we can relate to that! But maybe not to the apparent antagonist in this modern gothic horror story (At least I think we're into a gothic horror). Heward, he of the silver spoon in his mouth, has slithered along greased paths to end up the head of the selection committee that hired our hero and now, all is not well in holy land. The story, and Michael, showed much promise with images such as "a golden brick road on the other side, or a blinding white light that would guide him to magic woods." I'm not sure where this is going, but I'm saving a cell behind my office for Heward.

After spending months in the Internet I finally executed an escape. Two friends of mine, Hallie and Annie, attached me to a chain letter e-mail done by their seventh grade class. They thought I would like to see the world which I did.

A few weeks ago I was in India and watched Sue Renault researching a wonderful article called Indian Dancing. Her description of the need for three of her bony friends to work together to cast a shadow is wonderful writing. I wonder how she would describe the shadow of a metaphysical pig?
I just loved her image of her and her friends passing bricks as if they were passing water buckets as part of a construction dance. "They never spilled a drop of water. We dropped bricks on our feet."

Dick Taylor, an author I just met at the last meeting, read from the rough draft of Unlikely Angel. The story features a man and a woman, both of whom have gotten a pink slip. No that isn't something women wear. It is a notice of termination from a job. I had to put that in for our members who write sex scene, but this Pigg ain't going there. I saw enough of that stuff on the Internet. I even saw some men in pink slips, but I definitely ain't going there, either.
Dick, okay that's his name so I can write that, Dick is a pretty good writer and story teller. His girl character is considering suicide, at least she's up on this tall building on the outside of the railing so that seems to be what she wants to do, but it ain' what we want her to do so we're reading along and hoping. His boy character is on the street worried about the girl. This is so sweet, especially after spending months surfing the Internet. You know they have romances on the Internet where the couple is of the same sex or even the same person, which is a schizophrenic sex couple.
Okay, back to Dick. A little work on story sequence and viewpoint and Dick will be one of our superstars. He's already a star.

Here's two things I found in my travels: http://www.editorialdepartment.net/ This site has lots of links to other sites that provide lots of free, as in at no cost, advice and courses for writers. At Amazon.com I saw this really neat book - Stephen King's On Writing. It was so scary because it actually teaches you something about writing.
Write to me at masonjpigg@hotmail.com

Deborah Cohan's sexy female character is becoming more multi-dimensional. While it's helpful to know about her educational and professional achievements, however, we may have been given more information than we need. Drop some of the real estate info, we tell DC. Can't say we're not getting into the story, though. Several of us offered scenarios--put them in a bathtub--for developing dialogue and revealing pertinent character information. Deborah's prose moves easily and her dialogue is believable.

Faye Tollison got off to a good start, drew us into her story, then left us wanting more. She ended her chapter at just the right moment. John K offered several technical tips from his lawyer perspective and recommended fewer speaker attributions. Maybe a little less "gazing" as well. Faye's dialogue is nicely paced and the story line is strong enough for us to want to know what happens next.

Barbara Elkins takes us to her Favorite Places in a poem that drew a collective sigh of appreciation from her hearers. Musical lines such as "But of all the places dreamed and been/my favorite ones are right within" touched a chord in each of our own inner places. The first stanza left us wondering about which were the places she'd been and which the ones she'd missed . . . and in Gene's absence Sue maintained the objection to "life" and "strife." Bulldog concurs: that rhyming pair's a tad trite. B.E.'s poetry will be all the better when she digs deep into "that quiet place within her being" for word combinations that captivate our minds and our hearts. We look forward to more poetic treats from Barbara.

Speaking of favorite places, Pat Stewart takes us From the Big Muddy to the Beach. We marveled again at Pat's inexhaustible supply of childhood stories and everyday experiences which her writer's alchemy turns into entertaining essay. The young Pat growing up in landlocked Missouri longed to see the real ocean; a treasured seashell gift whetted her yearning and stoked her imagination. At age 32 she sighted her first beach--a disappointing Panama City, whose carnival tackiness was surpassed later by visits to the eminently tawdry Myrtle Beach. But childhood dreams sometimes come true, and at age 65 Pat finds her beach paradise at Huntington State Park, the drive there from Myrtle Beach "culture shock at its best." Pat gives us a good picture of the sleazy venues outskirting Myrtle Beach: we want a fuller picture of the beauty she sees as she enters the "best preserved beach on the Grand Strand." A little re-arranging may also be order: pull together all the childhood recollections to kick off the piece--maybe some descriptive detail regarding that seashell--its size, its color, how it felt when you turned it over in your hands . . . could you hear the ocean in it? Also, in transitioning, give us a clue as to what year the first beach trip occurred. Finally--keep taking us with you on your travels back through the times of your life.

Speaking of the times of your life . . . in John Kingsbury's chapter from The M & M Kid, Martin, on the therapist's couch, revisits his first sexual encounter. Bulldog does not exaggerate: the chapter was hilarious (though no one enjoyed it more than the author himself). John's narrative soared with crisp writing, canny timing, and sharp similes such as this: "The sound of a key penetrating a door lock upstairs filled the basement like a curse word fills a church during silent prayer." The group suggested re-considering the description of Martin's friend's date, which seemed extreme given her still-young years, and to watch inadvertent repetition: Exxon station, iambic pentameter. Martin's tale is funny, but there's poignancy in the humor: "At the end of the evening, I gave my date a friendship ring because she loved me--because she'd bonded with me. I never learned her name. I never saw her again! Maybe I broke her heart. Maybe she became a nun." And then John's masterful last line: "I opened my eyes and looked at Dr. Johnson. 'I've kissed a girl once or twice.'" The M & M Kid is Kingsbury at his best . . . we want more.

Good Muses are hard to come by. A "pot metal" sculpture of a Greek lady with a harp sits on my desk and looks down at my work, quite literally. Her most frequent advice is "Don't quit your day job." I would have smelted her down to make lug nuts by now if she weren't right.

Greenville has two well kept secrets and both of them are my favorite writing places. Reedy Falls Park, overarched by the damned and doomed Camperdown Way bridge, is the kind of place one would expect to encounter a Muse. Quite appropriately, the birthplace of our town even bears an Earth Mother image, probably Selu, Corn Mother of the Cherokee, graven in stone at the precipice of the falls. Her mystic influence is still strong within the sound of those cascading waters, many a wooing and wedding have I observed in that place.

Our other asset, to well hidden, is the Greenville Chapter of South Carolina Writers Workshop. Looking back, I cannot recall how this gathering of kindred spirits came to my attention. But in that first meeting I knew that if there was in me a gift of the pen, this was the place to cultivate it.

Can you see my quandary? Are some of the good things too precious to share? If everyone knew of the beauty and serenity of Reedy Falls Park, would it not be overrun until it was neither? And what of the Greenville Chapter of SCWW? If everyone knew would we not be overrun with amateurs at prose until the wise, temperate voices of those who know how to offer helpful critique were drowned out by faint praise?

Perhaps there are some things so good we want to shout their praises, but discretion begs we should do so quietly.

Leland ;-)

Printed Matters is the newsletter of the Greenville Chapter, SCWW, which meets on the first Thursday of each month at 6:00 p.m. at The Open Book, 110 S Pleasantburg Drive, Greenville, SC.

Thanks to our contributing writers: Phil Arnold, Randy Crew, John Kingsbury, Sue Renault, and Nancy Parker.

Copyright 2001 by Leland Beaudrot, Editor. Contributing writers retain all rights to their work.