The Time Is Now

In “The Bear IRL: My Manic Day in a Michelin-Starred Kitchen,” Vice writer Nick Thompson visits a Michelin-starred restaurant in London for a day to capture a glimpse of the behind-the-scenes operations of a high-level kitchen, like the ones portrayed on the popular TV series The Bear. Thompson speaks to one chef who echoes the repercussions of sacrificing a social life that are depicted in the award-winning show, mentioning missing out on birthdays and special occasions because of long hours and weekend work schedules. “It’s more like a sports team, where you’re trying to achieve something. That’s what drives you forward,” says the chef. Write an essay about a time in your past when you had to make a sacrifice in your personal life because of your job. Was there a payoff? What were the factors that ultimately pushed you to choose your job over your social life?

The Swimmer, a group exhibition of around one hundred works by dozens of artists at the Flag Art Foundation in New York City, is inspired by John Cheever’s short story of the same name, published in the New Yorker in 1964, in which his protagonist ventures to return home by swimming across his affluent neighbors’ backyard pools on a summer day. Curator Jonathan Rider selected and arranged the artworks to reflect the story’s themes of idealism, identity, class, failure and loss, and the instability of time and reality. This week write a short story that incorporates a swimming pool in some way. Whether an integral part of the plot or seen somewhere in the periphery, spend a bit of time describing its visual imagery, colors, light, and texture. Does it feel static or dynamic, vacant or crowded? Are there multiple interpretations for what functions the pool could serve?

In the 2023 film Past Lives, writer and director Celine Song explores the concept of inyeon through the main character Nora, a Korean American woman who navigates her relationships with two loves, her husband and her childhood best friend. “There is a word in Korean—inyeon. It means providence or fate. But it’s specifically about relationships between people,” says Nora to her husband when first meeting him. “It’s an inyeon if two strangers even walk by each other on the street and their clothes accidentally brush. Because it means there must have been something between them in their past lives. If two people get married, they say it’s because there have been 8,000 layers of inyeon over 8,000 lifetimes.” Write a poem that contemplates a connection of this type, a fated or destined encounter with another person, whether brief or long-lasting. What might you have meant to each other in a past life?

In an interview by Margaret Ross for the Art of Nonfiction series published in the Summer 2024 issue of the Paris Review, author and Harvard University professor Elaine Scarry says, “I see my writing on imagination and on war as continuous. Or rather, the two subjects are essentially locked in combat, because the act of inflicting injury or pain is really a willful aping of imagination, turning it upside down and appropriating it.” Write a lyric essay that braids together two subjects: Use the imagination or the artistic process as one topic, and then choose another subject that may seem “locked in combat” with your ideas around creativity, perhaps one more adjacent to pain or distress. What kind of truth can be coaxed to the surface when you think about the connections between them?

In the new horror film The Exorcism directed and cowritten by Joshua John Miller, Russell Crowe plays an actor who stars as a priest in a horror film, one that largely resembles the 1973 classic film The Exorcist, whose young priest was played by Miller’s father. This week take a page from this jumble of connections and nested narratives, and write a short story that contains within it another short story. The nested story could be something one of your characters is writing, or perhaps a story one of your characters comes across in a book. Decide whether to include some or all of the text of the nested story inside your larger story. You may want to play around with oppositional genres, such as humor and tragedy, or make use of similar plot points for an eerie effect.

Zillow Gone Wild is a popular Instagram account, and new HGTV reality TV show, that highlights particularly strange, curious, extreme, or otherwise unusual homes listed on the real estate website Zillow. Even for those who are not actively looking to buy or sell a home, the descriptions and photographs on these listings can serve as an inspiring portal, sparking a curiosity about how others express themselves through their homes, and how one’s own life could be different in a new environment with an idiosyncratic character of its own. Browse through some wild real estate listings online and write a persona poem from the point of view of an imagined inhabitant of the home of your choice. Consider what kind of assumptions or preconceived notions you might be bringing to the persona, and how you can upend expectations.

Are you shoe obsessed? Do you prioritize fashion over comfort, seeking out the latest trends, or do you hold tight to a long-held personal style? This week, look through old photos and your closet to jot down notes about the shoes you’ve worn over the years—sneakers, slip-ons, boots, flats, heels, flip-flops—and how the elements of texture, color, and function have impacted your choices. Write a personal essay that traces how your shoe priorities have evolved over the years, perhaps connecting some favorite past pairs to certain phases of your life—places you’ve lived, fads you’ve endured, jobs or hobbies you’ve had. Unpack the specific memories associated with how you were shoed.

In a 2012 interview for the Guardian, Hungarian author László Krasznahorkai explained his predilection for writing extremely long sentences that manage to endure for dozens of pages: “This characteristic, very classical, short sentence—at the end with a dot—this is artificial, this is only a custom, this is perhaps helpful for the reader, but for only one reason, that the readers in the last few thousand years have learned that a short sentence is easier to understand.” For Krasznahorkai, the long sentence extends beyond the desire to reflect the natural continuousness of human speech, but to also express the speaker’s existential drive, a seemingly overwhelming desire to communicate, to be empowered to say their piece. Write a short story that consists of a single sentence, using any punctuation you’d like but saving the period until the very end. How does this constraint affect your story’s themes?

“In the end, I suppose, defeat is inevitable, / the closing of something once delicately propped / open,” writes Dawn Lundy Martin in her poem “From Which the Thing Is Made,” which appears in her collection Instructions for the Lovers, out today from Nightboat. With each line of the poem, Martin dives deeper into the connection between the narrator and their mother, and how her absence is still felt in the body of the narrator. “Even I can’t let go, can’t sift her being (that part / of her that’s her) from my hands,” writes Martin. This week, start a poem with Martin’s first line: “In the end, I suppose, defeat is inevitable…” What memories and imagery come to mind when you think of defeat or of something closing?

This year’s summer solstice arrives in the Northern Hemisphere on June 20, marking it the longest day, and shortest night, of the year. And yet, no matter the exact number of daylight or nighttime hours measured out, any day can feel like a very long day, just as any night can end in the blink of an eye. Write a two-part lyric essay in which the first part details one long summer day you’ve experienced, and the second part focuses on one short summer night. For the day that seemed to last forever, did it drag on and on, producing exasperation, or did the hours ooze dreamily and pleasurably? For the night that whizzed by, was there nonstop action that was over before you knew it?