L.V. DITCHKUS

This is my first semester in my MA/MFA program, and in addition to my fiction workshop I needed to choose another course. I landed on screenwriting, mostly for practical reasons—I wanted a deeper understanding of dialogue and scene construction. What I didn’t expect was how much the class would change the way I watch movies. I’m delighted to say it’s teaching me not just how scripts work on the page, but how to truly see and enjoy films as living, breathing works of art. When

One of the most common criticisms of MFA and MA writing programs is that they turn out writers who all sound the same. Workshop voice. Polished, competent, interchangeable. It’s a fear new writers share—and one that established authors once believed. Alexander Chee—award winning novelist and author of “Edinburgh” and “How to Write an Autobiographical Novel”, admits that he, like many writers, once thought MFA programs existed to produce authors with a similar voice. The idea

You might think the comparison starts and ends with the fact that, for some folks, both activities are downright snooze-worthy to watch (my apologies to die-hard golf fans and anyone who keeps the Golf Channel humming in the background). But to me, the real similarity runs deeper—a whole lot of novice golfers and new writers believe they can perfect their craft entirely on their own. Both are really a competition with yourself. The golfer works to shave down their handicap, a

A craft flaw that many authors struggle with is how to strike a balance between what is overexplained and underexplained in your story. Let me clarify by giving a few examples: Overexplaining (i.e., repeating information that should be obvious from other text) “Why would you help us?” He glared at me as if trying to read my intent through my eyes. The reader should know the glare comes from the character being suspicious. It would be better to simply say: “Why would you help