What do you do with those jiao coins and notes (or worse, fen)? They don’t go in vending machines or laundromat washers like the small change in other countries. Do you save them somewhere? Do you give them to beggers? Or do you have a game to play with them? And what about the fake jiao coins? (Don’t laugh, they really do exist.)

Write a poem or story about all that loose change. Think of a character that has an obsession with those coins. Or write about your own experiences with small change (have you ever tried paying for a meal in jiao?).

At Terracotta Typewriter, we’re open to various genres. We’re not necessarily fans of some genres, but we are fans of good writing. For those of you who happen to write some genre, we have compiled a list for this week’s Mandarin Monday. We hope this will help answer that question of “What do you write?”

Mystery: 推理作品 (tūlǐ zuòpǐn)

Horror: 恐怖 (kǒngbù)

Romance: 爱情小说 (àiqíng xiǎoshuō)

Science-Fiction: 科幻小说 (kēhuàn xiǎoshuō)

Fantasy: 虚构 (xūgòu)

Ray Bradbury is my favorite science-fiction writer.
雷·布萊伯利是我最喜欢的科幻小说作家。(léi bùláibólì shì wǒ zuìxǐhuan de kēhuàn xiǎoshuō zuòjiā.)

Do you like reading romance novels?
你喜欢看爱情小说吗？(nǐ xǐhuan kàn àiqíng xiǎoshuō ma?)

And don’t forget about our book giveaway contest. Start writing and send those entries.

Today’s Star-Ledger has an article about universities offering more creative writing courses. It seems that many students are taking these classes to improve their writing skills for employment as well as using them as creative release. The goal of the universities is to serve the students and improve their skills for future employment (which will lead to alumni donations).

As one who took plenty of creative writing classes as an undergraduate and graduate, I have some mixed feelings about these courses. One aspect of creative writing courses that the article brings up is grades. Grading any creative class is entirely subjective, and, more often than not, instructors in such courses hand out fairly easy marks assuming students hand in all their assignments. As Martin Donoff, head of the graduate program at Fairleigh Dickenson University, puts it it’s a “touchy-feely” subject. Many instructors are afraid of coming off as unsupportive, and, therefore, do not voice their honest opinion regarding student writing.

In my time as an undergraduate, I had seven creative writing classes with five teachers. Only one of those teachers really provided any direction in class–as well as useful feedback that could lead to improving the work. Even with that useful feedback, the instructor still was unable to honestly state whether or not the work was good or bad. And peer comments in workshops weren’t much  better. I took two fiction workshops with the same instructor, and the students in each class were dynamically different. The second time around I found myself in a group of writers who mostly wrote wholesome stories. The rest fancied themselves intellectuals–which meant that they saw themselves as better than everyone else. My stories turned out to offend most of the class because I tried to write about likeable characters who engaged in illegal activities.

I admit that my writing was nothing special at the time. In fact, I will probably never again look at anything I wrote as an undergrad. After college, when I worked at a newspaper, I found myself writing a bit more poetry and commentary. Somehow, I was more creatively engaged at the newspaper. That was when I decided to earn my MFA in creative writing.

The MFA had similar problems as the undergraduate classes. The instructors were still unwilling to voice honest opinions because they didn’t want to offend anyone. Many of my classmates would talk outside of class and we would try to decipher the code of the instructors–what did he/she say that wasn’t the usual stock comment? Fortunately, the classmates were occassionally more helpful in commenting on work. Plus, the instructors provided many more helpful writing prompts. They also had us read more interesting stories to keep our brains going.

Out of all the instructors I had during my time in grad school, only one was really honest about student work. This instructor ripped our work apart in a constructive manner–taking twenty-page stories and editing them down to ten. And we all thanked that instructor for improving our writing.

The difficulty with any creative program is that it requires a shared vision. If the students and instructors aren’t on the same page, it can turn the classroom into a hostile environment for creativity. But, if the students and instructors share too much of the same vision the class can quickly become stale.

As writers, we should carefully consider what we want to get out of such programs before jumping in. Such courses are best for those who need motivation and creative ideas. Credentials don’t necessary make anyone a better writer.

[Note: this contest has been extended. We are still accepting entries.]

Thanks to the folks at Other Press for donating a review copy of The Beijing of Possibilities by Jonathan Tel for our first contest. We have decided to tie this book giveaway in with our Get Over the Hump writing prompt.

Going with the title of the Jonathan Tel’s collection of short stories, we want you to write about the possibilities (or impossibilities) of China. Feel free to use a specific city. Remember, this is just a theme, you may stretch the (im)possible to however you see fit. We know there are a lot things that are (im)possible around China…like seeing a bear in a tutu riding a unicycle with a monkey on its back through the Forbidden City. Go ahead and use this theme in a story or poem–whatever form you feel fits your ideas.

Now for the contest specifics and mumbo-jumbo. Beginning today and ending at midnight EST on August 31, 2009, you may submit your story or poem. The best submission will win a copy of The Beijing of Possibilities and will be published in the next issue of Terracotta Typewriter. All other entries will be considered for publication. Only ONE entry/submission per person.

Send your submissions to tctype[at]gmail[dot]com. Use the subject line: [your name], Contest. And include a brief biography (in case we decide to publish it). Don’t forget to give your work a catchy title. All entries that do not follow the guidelines will be deleted.

The winning poem or story will be selected by Terracotta Typewriter. The decision of the publication is final. The winner and others chosen for publication will be notified via e-mail.

For those of you who don’t want to enter the contest or cannot wait to win a copy of the book, you can also order it online (there’s even a Kindle edition).

As writers we must go through an arduous process to complete our work. The Beats (垮掉的一代, kuǎdiàodeyídài) believed in “first thought, best thought,” but that doesn’t mean they didn’t go back and edit their work (though some didn’t, and it shows). There are other writers who have often said that they’re finished editing when the work is published–and some still would like to edit the work after that.

It is important for us to explain to others the editing process. This week’s Mandarin Monday will provide you with some vocabulary to help you explain this part of the writing process to your Chinese-speaking friends and colleagues.

Edit: 编辑 (biānjí); Editor: 编辑 (biānjí); Editor-in-chief: 主编 (zhǔbiān); Revise: 修改 (xiūgǎi)

This book took me a week to edit and revise.
编校和修改这本书花了我三个月的时间。(biānjiào hè xiūgǎi zhè běnshū huāle wǒ sāngè yuè de shìjiān.)

I sent my poems to my editor.
我把我的诗发给我的编辑。(wǒ bǎ wǒde shīfā gěi wǒde biānjí.)

I finished writing my novel. Now I have to edit it before I send it to publishers.
我的小说写完了，在我把它交给出版商前，现在我需要重新整理编辑。(wǒde xiǎoshuō xiě wánle, zài wǒ bǎ tā jiāogěi chūbǎn shāngqián, xiànzài wǒ xūyào chóng xīn zhěng lǐ biānjí.)

*Just a note: Check out this week’s Get Over the Hump writing prompt for a contest.

I’ve been listening to Yerboli quite a bit lately. I picked up his CD in Shenzhen several months ago, and am still in awe of his music. The sound he gets out of the two strings on the dombra (冬不拉) is amazing. The only problem with it is that I don’t understand Kazakh.

For this week’s writing prompt, write about music. Find a song you enjoy but don’t understand (this works much better if it’s in a language you don’t know). Write a story or poem based on the song–think of the emotion of the music. What is the story of that song? You might find your words dancing on the page to the rhythm.

And if you’re in Shenzhen, you can usually see Yerboli at C:Union as well as some other locations.

People love to write autobiographies (or at least love hiring ghost writers to write them). And plenty of people are willing to read this mostly self-indulgent genre. Most of these books are written by (and I use the term loosely) celebrities and/or politicians.

This week’s Mandarin Monday comes from Samuel Goldwyn, of MGM fame. This is a useful quotation for those times when someone says they’re going to write an autobiography.

“I don’t think anyone should write their autobiography until after they’re dead.”

“我认为只有人死后才可以写关于自己的传记” -塞缪尔高德温 (wǒ rènwéi zhíyǒurén sǐhòu cáikěyi xiěguānyú zìjìde zhuànjì. -sāimiùěr gāodéwēn)

It’s Thursday and we forgot to post a Get Over the Hump writing prompt on Wednesday. We have excuses out the wazoo, but you probably don’t want to hear them.

Running with the theme of tardiness, try writing a story or poem about being late. Most people have stories to tell about being late or waiting for someone who was late. Take one of those stories and fictionalize it, or add some poetic devices to the mix. You might have a character who is constantly late (for his/her own funeral). Or you may just write about all the excuses for being late–there are plenty to fill a page.

Now, get writing and don’t be late next time.

Writers are regularly classified as cynics. And for English-speaking writers in China, it may get classified as more than just cynicism. For this week’s Mandarin Monday, we present to you a rebuttal for those times when you are accused of being too cynical.

Vocabulary: cynic 愤世嫉俗者 (fèn shì jí sú zhe); cynical 愤世嫉俗的 (fèn shì jí sú de); cynicism 愤世嫉俗 (fèn shì jí sú )

“The power of accurate observation is commonly called cynicism by those who have not got it.” -George Bernard Shaw

敏锐的洞察力通常被那些不具备它的人称之为愤世嫉俗。-萧伯纳

(mǐnruì de dòngchálì tōngcháng bèi nàxiē bú jùbèi tāde rén chēng zhī wéi fèn shì jí sú。-xiāo bó nà)