Creative Nonfiction and the Oxford Creative Nonfiction Writers Conference & Workshop are looking for essays that capture the South in all its steamy sinfulness. Your essay can channel William Faulkner or Flannery O’Connor, Alice Walker or Rick Bragg; it can be serious, humorous, or somewhere in between, but all essays must tell true stories, and must incorporate both sin and the South in some way. The selected essays will be published in Creative Nonfiction #47, and CNF and Oxford will be awarding $5000 for Best Essay. Essays must be unpublished, 4,000 words maximum.
There is a $20 reading fee; multiple entries are welcome ($20/essay) as are entries from outside the U.S. The deadline is July 31, 2012.
Indies Unlimited is pleased to provide this contest information for the convenience of our readers. We do not, however, endorse this or any contest/competition. Entrants should always research a competition prior to entering.[subscribe2]
I’ve discovered a potentially fatal flaw in my personality. I mean, outside the more obvious ones (no need to point them out in the comments section, folks). Put simply, I like genre and I like literary. In musical terms, I like teen pop and modern classical, Spears and Stockhausen, Avril and Arvo. But this post is neither a demonstration of my “amazing” pop cultural eclecticism nor a reflection of my mental health anxieties; we like what we like, after all. No, this post is an attempt to reconcile two apparently opposing impulses in the world of writing; the aforementioned (alleged) impasse between genre and literary fiction.
For anyone who has attended a university-level creative writing course, even a single workshop, this dichotomy might already have raised its slightly distorted head. I majored in English literature and I’ve also attended a one-year certificate course in creative writing at a local university, and I don’t regret either of them. My purpose here is certainly not to trash the rarefied air of academia. Far from it. Because I genuinely learned a great deal about writing—about what works and what doesn’t work, about the inner alchemy and the outer pragmatism of this eccentric world—from those two experiences. Not to mention the confidence boost of sharing your work among motivated and engaged peers as deeply in love with the written word as you, alongside the equally essential practice of reading in front of an audience so you don’t forget that word’s spoken nature either. Continue reading “The Good, The Bad, The Indifferent”
[This is part 3 of a three part “Getting it Right” series by author and attorney Karen A. Wyle. This series is aimed at helping authors understand and add meaningful and convincing detail in writing courtroom drama. Part 1 can be found here and part 2 can be found here.]
Any writer planning to deal with criminal trials should understand the reasonable doubt standard of proof. And anyone writing about other sorts of trials should realize that the reasonable doubt standard doesn’t apply.
Only in criminal trials must the prosecution prove the defendant’s guilt by the well-known standard, “beyond a reasonable doubt.” Depending on the crime(s) with which the defendant is charged, the prosecution may have to prove a list of particular facts (“elements”) about the crime beyond a reasonable doubt. Continue reading “Getting it Right: Standards of Evidence by Karen A. Wyle>“