The Time Is Now

“I notice a weird thing about Zoom: In order to give people the impression that you’re making eye contact, you have to look not at them but at the camera lens,” writes Anne Fadiman in her essay “Screen Share,” which appears in her collection Frog: And Other Essays, forthcoming in February from Farrar, Straus and Giroux. “Their images are lower down. If you look at them, you won’t look as if you’re looking at them.” In the essay, Fadiman recounts shifting from teaching in-person classes to learning a new technology during the pandemic, as well as the social and practical challenges she and her students faced. Write a personal essay about your relationship to a specific technology, whether it be smartphones, apps, navigation systems, chatbots, or streaming media. What is revealed by the technology you choose to use when it comes to your values and relationships?

In Maria Stepanova’s novel The Disappearing Act, translated from the Russian by Sasha Dugdale, forthcoming in February from New Directions, the narrator, like the author, is a writer navigating the challenges of living in exile after her home country invades a neighboring state. Ambiguity or the absence of identity is prevalent throughout the novel—the protagonist, cities, and countries are never explicitly named. “The foreign city where M now lived was full of people fleeing from both countries, and those who’d been attacked by her own compatriots regarded their former neighbors with horror and suspicion, as if life before the war had ceased to have any meaning,” writes Stepanova. Compose a short story that makes use of this type of anonymity to create a narrative that circles around themes of alienation, disappearance, escape, and loneliness. In the world of your story, how does this anonymity serve the journey that your character is embarking on?

Tehching Hsieh: Lifeworks 1978–1999, currently on view at Dia Beacon in New York’s Hudson Valley, is the first U.S. retrospective covering the Taiwanese conceptual artist’s performance works. Each of his projects, which last an entire year, pushes at the boundaries between life and art: 365 days spent locked in a wooden cage, or living on the streets of New York City, or punching in on a time clock every hour on the hour in his studio, or tethering himself with a rope to another artist. “My art is doing time, so it’s not different from doing life or doing art, or doing time. No matter whether I stay in ‘art-time’ or ‘life-time,’ I am passing time,” Hsieh said in a 2019 interview for the Believer. How is the passing of time connected to your sense of observation as a poet? Write a poem that reflects the distinctions or similarities between your “art-time” and “life-time.”

Do you want to spend time eating in a place that’s been called a “fully immersive postmodern design hellscape-themed dining experience?” Over the years, despite the eclectic interior decor, ambience, and absurdly lengthy menu that has been written about by bewildered yet admiring journalists, the Cheesecake Factory has become a top-ranked casual restaurant chain and a cult favorite amongst celebrities. Think about the interior of a place that you have strong opinions about. Maybe it’s a room in a grandparents’ house from long ago, a particular restaurant, library, or a favorite bookstore. Write a personal essay that describes in detail the various architectural and interior design elements at play. Examine your personal memories in connection to your aesthetic responses to the site to make your descriptions as vivid as possible.

In the 2019 coming-of-age comedy film Booksmart, directed by Olivia Wilde, two best friends who have spent their high school years studying and pursuing other bookish activities in order to get into Ivy League universities are shocked to discover that their peers have also gotten into prestigious schools despite their hard-partying ways. To rectify the injustice of this, they decide to attend a party on the last day of school, the night before their graduation, which sends them on a wild and chaotic adventure. Write a short story that takes place during a brief, contained period of time—perhaps just a day or two—when a character attempts to infiltrate a tight social group after feeling left out. How does an outsider’s perspective bring about new realizations of what’s important in life? What kinds of interactions unfold that impact your characters?

“Lichens in the armpits of marble statues / differentiated from lichens on the thighs, / eaten by snails on moonless nights.” Talvikki Ansel describes her poem “The Lichens,” published in the Academy of American Poets’ Poem-a-Day series, as growing from an imagining of “the stories of far-flung lichen family members” and “inspired by the presence and tenacity of lichens on trees and rocks and the roof-racks and side mirrors of my car.” Taking a cue from Ansel’s muse, spend some time jotting down notes and observations from any type of natural growth in your surroundings and conduct a bit of research about the biological processes involved. Compose a poem that mixes your personal imaginings with scientific findings and striking imagery.

In a recent essay published on Literary Hub, Jean Chen Ho writes about spending an academic year as a visiting assistant professor in upstate New York and the isolation she experienced as an Asian American in a predominantly white neighborhood. Throughout the piece, Ho mixes her reflections about daily activities—visiting a museum, exercise, meeting colleagues, dating, and going to a local bar—with observations of her environmental surroundings and the violence and devastation in Gaza, as well as allusions to Louise Bourgeois, Jane Hirshfield, and Milan Kundera. Write a personal essay that meditates on a time when you have felt particularly alone. Where were you and what were the circumstances that contributed to your feelings of isolation? How did the environment around you, and the art or writing you connected to at the time, reflect your state of mind?

In First Reformed, the 2017 drama film written and directed by Paul Schrader, a tormented minister leading a small congregation in upstate New York finds his mental, physical, and spiritual states unraveling after a situation with a young couple seeking his guidance leads to a shockingly terrible turn of events. Throughout the turmoil, Reverend Ernst Toller continues a project to record onto paper all of his daily activities and unfiltered thoughts for a year with the intention of destroying the journal once he’s done. Write a short story in which your main character is experiencing a particularly tumultuous phase of upheaval and decides to maintain a daily routine of writing in a diary. Incorporate snippets and excerpts from the diary entries to illuminate the character’s biases and singular perspective, lead the reader to conclusions about your character, or shed light on their preoccupations as they navigate a difficult time.

Clunky metaphors, the use of em dashes and the verb “delve,” and the rule of threes. These are some telltale signs that you’re reading prose created by artificial intelligence systems like ChatGPT, according to a recent New York Times Magazine article titled “Why Does A.I. Write Like . . . That?” by Sam Kriss. AI creates a certain supposedly distinctive voice that is markedly strange, yet one which is foundationally based on how humans articulate themselves in language. This week write a poem from the persona of an AI bot that is commenting on its own algorithm and how it mines language from novels and textbooks to create what humans request through their prompts. Play with vocabulary, punctuation, and style to mimic the voice of AI. How does your AI persona’s own “consciousness” push it to create hallucinations?

It’s that time of year to send and receive holiday cards, some of which may include a family newsletter with highlights of the past year from friends and family. According to a survey from the Emily Post Institute, a family business promoting etiquette since 1922, 47 percent of respondents don’t like to receive holiday newsletters. The institute’s website suggests this might be because the letters are more of a brag sheet rather than a genuine desire to communicate. Try your hand at composing a holiday newsletter that recounts notable events and milestones from throughout the past year. Take this exercise as an opportunity to reflect on favorite memories and changes, both big and small. Perhaps you’ll decide to subvert conventional expectations and strike a subversively satirical or darkly apocalyptic tone. Have fun with it!