Jim Carrey’s Video to Emma Stone Teaches Writers Why Desperation is the World’s Worst Cologne

After seeing Jim Carrey’s video love note to Emma Stone, either he’s channeling Charlie Sheen or he’s really, and I mean, really bad at asking a girl out.

Photo of Jim Carrey
Writers: Jim Carrey shows you how not to get published. (From TruLife)

It’s an eerie combination of overly earnest, creepy, and only vaguely funny. Sure, what 22-year-old woman doesn’t want to hear a guy who’s nearly 50 talk about their future of chubby, freckle-faced babies and how the ravages of time affect his bodily functions?

The answer: all of them.

Many younger writers, so full of the need to express themselves (they’re so deep!), pull a Jim Carrey. They pour out every emotion, every bit of angst. They’re frustrated and railing against something. They’re begging and screaming for attention, not caring that it’s attention for all the wrong reasons. It’s like Jerry MacGuire: “Sooth me. Save me! Love me!”

Editors and readers will be more than happy to ignore this self-centered, whining story. And if that doesn’t drive the message home then the stack of rejection letters will.  Because what Jim Carrey dashed off was a terrible, clumsy attempt at courting — the equivalent to a horrible first draft.

Hey, we’ve all been there. I’ve deleted or tossed hundreds of stories. Thousands of pages. It’s the fawnlike steps toward becoming a confidant writer, one who can write about what he or she cares about while making it interesting to an audience. Simply put: Forget your ego. Realize you that it’s about them — their wants and needs.

But write your heart out. That’s what first drafts are for. Just make sure that you revise and edit until the story has that same effect on your audience, not just you.

If that seems like an alien concept, then watch this video and pretend you’re Emma Stone. That’s probably how your readers feel — they’re just too nice to tell you.

Sarah Rose Etter: The Language of Consumption

A photo of Sarah Rose Etter
Sarah Rose Etter: author of "Tongue Party"

I interviewed Sarah Rose Etter, whose chapbook Tongue Party (Cake Train Press), recently sold out its first printing. Her writing has been described as beautiful, bizarre, and jarring. It is, however, never boring.

I was eager to get more insight on her approach to writing after reading her excellent story “Koala Tide.”

Shawn Proctor: In a recent article, The Atlantic delved into different artists’ process, from first draft to completion. Can you take us through your creative process?

Sarah Rose Etter: I have a hard time talking about process. Many writers have these things they say – and some of them are quite helpful – but they don’t really work for me. I do try to write frequently, I’ve been working hard at that, but it doesn’t really come out the same way as when an idea comes and I chew on it for a while.

When I get an idea, I turned it over in my head and try to look at all sides. Then a first line will come and I stew on that for even longer. And then when the first draft comes out, much of the story has already been shaped in my head. Obviously, there is revising and editing after that, but that’s basically my process.

SP: What element of fiction do you think is your greatest strength?

SRE: I guess tension – building up to something. Or else playing on the physical – sensations, tastes, that kind of thing.

I have a hard time stepping back and finding a strength or saying, “Oh, that really works for me.” You know? I tend to just write what comes and let that exist.

SP: How has attending fiction workshops and graduate creative writing education benefited your work?

SRE: It’s always good to learn the rules before you break them, and grad school was wonderful for that. It’s good to get feedback from people who aren’t familiar with your style, it’s good to be exposed to new things to read and write. It’s good to have people critique your work. All of those things help a writer get better, stronger.

What’s more, I left grad school with a fantastic friendship with Nate Green, who I still share and edit work with. So that was great.

SP: Do you find your work has an overarching theme or artistic goal that connects the stories? If so, how would you describe it?

SRE: I just want what I write to be new and not boring. I want people to be engaged, whether they’re repulsed or horrified or creeped out – I just want them to care about what they’re reading. I’d like my stories to be alive.

As far as theme, I know I was dealing a lot with hunger and language and consumption when I wrote Tongue Party. I wasn’t paying attention to it at the time, but stepping back and looking at the collection, it’s there.

SP: What’s your next project?

SRE: Tongue Party just came out as a Kindle eBook with two bonus stories, so I was spending a lot of time shaping those and fitting them into the collection. Otherwise, I’ve been working on a longer version of the chapbook that hopefully will become some sort of surreal novel. Plus some pieces on Ben Franklin.

SP: Now down to sentence-level issues. What word do you love? What word do you hate?

SRE: I love the word syphilis. That’s one of the softest words in the English language and if you strip the meaning off of it, it’s pretty beautiful.

I hate the word pickle. Probably because I genuinely and deeply despise pickles. God, just typing that word twice pissed me off. Look what you’ve done, Shawn!

The electronic version of Tongue Party is available at Amazon.

Writing Contests: Weighing Your Options

In the writing life, there’s always tension between entering writing contests and submitting to literary journals regularly. It seems easy enough to choose: the former usually costs money, the latter doesn’t.

So are contests a bum deal? And when looking at a contest, what makes it worthwhile?

Writing contests can be a great thing for writers and journals, and they have popped up everywhere in the last five years. Journals like Glimmertrain run several every year and they come in all shapes and sizes, from a contest for the worst opening line for a an unwritten novel to a contest for the best unpublished novel.

It’s a win-win for most journals. They generate money, subscriptions (often your entry fee gets you a year of the journal), and interest among writers. Here’s what to consider when evaluating whether to enter:

1. Who Goes There? There’s a million contests and more than half are scams that prey on newbies. As long as there are people who want to publish some charlatan will be out there trying to separate them from their cash.

Never heard of the journal? Check around, read samples online, and be sure to ask around before you write the check.

2. Calculate Your Pot Odds. Some contests are free and pay the winners. Seriously. Those are the gold standard, but expect that they will receive thousands of entries. It’s like the lottery. Send it in, but don’t get your hopes up.

If you have to pay a fee, weigh that against the payment for winning and the popularity of the contest. The equation goes like this: small contest + small entry fee + decent award = solid investment. Conversely, large contest + high entry fee + high award = risky investment.

Also, some contests hold a reading with the winners. If so, that publicity is just as valuable as any money you receive.

3. Win, Lose, or Draw. Even in a small contest you’re unlikely to win (cue the sad violin music) so what do you get instead? This isn’t “Jeopardy!” and there’s no fun parting gifts.

Often you get a subscription, which is a great way to read more current stories and get a feel for the journal’s aesthetic.Plus, you’re supporting the arts. If you’re feeling brave, try to read the winning entries. See what they did well and what lessons could help your writing.

4. We’re Perfect For Each Other. Lastly consider whether you already have a story that matches the contest’s theme or rules (i.e. length, type of story, etc.) If not, consider the deadline and whether you can turn out a story in time.

Contests can provide excellent inspiration and deadlines. And pressure can push you to write a story you never expected.

5. Rules Are Made to be Broken. Think so? Then save your time, money, and postage because your story is going to be disqualified. Don’t think you’re a diva. Don’t send a depressing story to a “Tell Us an Inspiring Story” contest. Don’t send a 3,000-word story to a contest that limits entries to 2,000 words. Don’t do it or even think about doing it.

In short, read the rules, read them again, then follow them. You may have written the best entry, a real page-turner, but it doesn’t make a bit of difference if they toss it out unread. And, believe me, it happens.

Good luck and if you have a favorite contest or contest trick, toss it in the comments.

Selected Shorts

Great writing deserves great performance. I’ve been a fan of Symphony Space‘s program Selected Shorts, broadcast on WHYY, for years. Though I read widely, the authors invariably are 50 percent of the time totally new to me, as are the performers.

There’s nothing like hearing a short story resonate in the attentive listeners, who laugh or gasp at the perfect moments. They have provided a perfect background when I drive to work, go for a run, or try to sleep in a weird art hotel in Berlin.

The quality is consistently good to great, and iTunes offers several of the most recent as free downloads.

I only hope that one of my stories ends up on the show someday. A boy can only dream…

*Also, they offer the Stella Kupferberg Memorial Short Story Contest for entries 750 words or fewer. Be aware the entry fee is $25; winner receives $1000 and his/her story will appear on the program.