盛夏光年,我们与你相见。没有条条框框、没有固定格式,一切如同呼吸一般自如简单,你坚定地、给了自己一份问心无愧的答卷。
| 读书、写作,我们一同走过的路 |
新冠疫情席卷重来,为写作营带来了不小挑战。线上+线下的灵活课程安排、每日严格的安全保障、导师和学员之间的相互配合,在能保证安全的情况下保留原先的沉浸式体验。
此次的读写营围绕“Humour and Irony”这一主题展开,选取不同的媒介、体裁、题材,围绕“头脑风暴”、“寻找脉络”、“精准表达”这三个核心模块,培养学员的创造力和独立思考能力。与此同时,“导师制度”也为学员提供了交流及深入探索的渠道。
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在头脑风暴阶段,将这一切联系起来,由零散的想法,化为笔下的字字珠玑。通过“Find something ironic!”、Poetry Collage(拼贴诗)、Character Hotseat(快速人物设定创作) 等活动,学员们逐渐打开心扉,尝试书写内心的世界。
破冰Share Something 
Humorous or Ironic
我们请大家寻找并分享生活中滑稽的瞬间、有反讽元素的memes(表情包),分外有“笑果”。在契合了本次“Humor and Irony”的营地主题的同时,大家也受到周围人并不平均分布的笑点启发。
崔娃的经典脱口秀片段
综艺节目中的出糗瞬间
“谐音梗扣钱”
🐎克斯小剧场
拼贴诗/ Poetry Collage
学员们从《纽约客》杂志、报纸和文学作品等材料中剪下字词和短语,适当运用视觉语言和符号,重新排列创作出新的的作品。在这个过程中思考:我想通过这个拼贴作品传达出什么样的内容或故事?如何使用文字,找到文字表达的“Flow”?
讲座与研讨 /
Seminars on Literature
IWhat is Humor and Irony? 
从(严肃正统)文学手法的分类和定义,再结合经典著作和时事新闻为例,学员们深入浅出地理解"Humor""Irony"在作品语境中的意义和作用,在读者和作者两种角色之间切换,自我搭建坚实的知识框架。
“ Parody:

通常以幽默夸张的方式模仿某个作品、作家、流派的文学风格,来达到诙谐讽刺,妙趣横生的喜剧效果。”
IIPoetry Analysis on Seamus Heaney's collection
i. Limbo
ii. Whatever You Say, Say Nothing
iii. The Early Purges
From poem collective Death of a Naturalist(1966)
. Close reading on George Orwell's essays
i. Confessions of a Book Reviewer(1946)

ii. Some Thoughts on the Common Toad(1946)
Ⅳ. Poetry Analysis onWilliam Butler Yeats' A Coat(1914)
V.Close reading on Charles Dickens's Oliver Twist(1838)
极速创作 /
20 mins Free Writing 
‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍We are quirky writers, aren't we? ‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍‍
学员们在20分钟之内选择prompt自由写作,例如:
- You have been given one day to live. Detail it from beginning to end.
- One day you woke up and there's only you in the entire world.
Hi,这是来自学员们的奇思妙想。
Elodie:
Am I waking up, or dying down? Is the end of one matter the beginning of another? Is this a second chance to repent for our mistakes? Is this a second chance to change the mistakes we made? 
Charris:
Idle till the midday, the clock strikes I saw sunlight for great zest Contrast the burning green age of mine.
Bill:
I found myself slumped on the sofa in a position that defies the fundamentals of physics. Newton would have been proud. 
Andy: 
They told me my mother was seduced by the butterfly the night before I was born, the butterfly is so light, that I can't see concrete, heavy objects that are visible anymore.
Jessica: 
I’m stealing again, this time in a book store. Slipping in like a snake or some finless underwater creatures, I begin straying between bookracks. I know this shop and all of its exits well enough for my stealing. And the owner, an old half-blind woman who doesn’t even care about if stormy weathers would or not ruin her flowers hanging on the window frames.
Jay:
He smiled, so beautiful that his mouth was pulled into a stripe of spaghetti, so beautiful that his muscles around his eyes are frozen, so beautiful that I would have knocked all the pure white limestones out of that thin stripe of spaghetti if not my friends pulled me back with everything he got. I knew he stole my bag.
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人类观察实验 /
Stalk, but for art 
一个快速头脑风暴的练习:在10分钟之内快速写下一切与“Humor and Irony”相关的事物/想法。然后,在午休后的一个小时之内,学员们自由分散在附近的商场和街道上观察匆匆行人,坐在餐厅中人群之间或轻松或剑拔弩张的互动,以作家的角度去“追踪”和“抓捕”有趣的细节,甚至悄悄跟随其后以挖掘更多意想不到的收获,并且记录下来。在人类观察实验结束之后,在较短时间之内快速自由写作。
There He stood, millions of years, unafraid of anything, although a single star in a galaxy.
I would never know what they are thinking about when just observing but the act somewhat resembles a criminal? 
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多重媒介挑战 
Multi-medium challenge
除此之外,我们还尝试了在不同的环境和媒介下限时自由写作,给自己设置更多的限制和条件,挑战自我的写作边界!听一段结合摇滚&流行&宗教音乐&丧曲的Mixtape,你是饱受分散注意力的折磨还是享受音乐带来的灵感?选一副与自己有心灵感应的画来写一段故事!你会选乌合麒麟还是大卫霍克尼?
在写作营的最后三天,是学员们最为紧张且intense的阶段—他们迎来了最后的硬核挑战,也就是产出一份毕业作品。围绕“Humor and Irony”但不限制文体题材,我们鼓励学员们尝试自己不同的角度,探索多元的可能性,最后我们收获了许多奇思妙想:Poetry, play, short essays, short stories in fantasy, historical fiction, rewriting of classical plots, lyrics, etc.
以1:4的师生比,导师们与学员们进行一对一的讨论辅导,从头脑风暴,整理故事大纲,到成型之后的逐字打磨,一步一步推进。此过程并非容易,甚至格外头疼,但最终拨云见日,茅塞顿开的时刻,又能感受到写作的无比乐趣。
Poetry from Olivia He:
How did you describe to me
an organ that I didn’t know exists?
Another liver, huddled up under the heart and 
a loom large, its only layer of epidermis
drenched in toxins. I imagine it trying to weep 
but cannot, as if a poet.
I listened. Rain fell all night at the camp field,
you conversed, through the waterfall, with the man.
I flattened in the river with a persistent pain
carving my jawline into gills. 
I dived down to the muddy riverbed, 
recovering a turtle shell
that had prophesied my somniloquy yesterday and before.
Amidst the shattering sky, 
you shook open a blanket to cover my body. 
Amidst the clinks and clanks, 
we escaped from the back side of oblivion,
paddled across the spiky leaves, leaving behind 
pomegranate flowers and their smoothness. 
You turned around but couldn’t hold onto any fragrance,
in your dialogue across your shadows.
A glass of wine, labelled 2003,
held up my anxiety.
Your eyelashes danced,
opened my eyes of a small beast.
I stared into them, hunting for any untamed message
beneath your white tulip-like skin.
But that’s when you laid down and kissed me on my throat.
Fiction from Andy Zhang:
I drove to the gas station to pump some gas in the car, and then I drove all the way down to the parks, libraries, and squares. I spent the whole day going around the city, desperately looking for any signs of human living. I wrote my address on every wall and “FIND ME” in capitalized letters. I want to restore civilization, but how? Just by myself? I grabbed so many books and put them in my rusted car’s trunk: Andelic Companion of English/American/World Literature/Poetry; How to live in the Wild? Making Weapons, Frankenstein’s World History, The Martian, Bible, Tao Te Ching, Complete Guide to Physics/Chemistry/Alchemy/Magick and Occultism. Identifying Flying Birds and Flying Objects! How to Eat a Caterpillar, Build Your Guitar Skills; How to Survive from Zombies, Phoenix, and Wild Animals. East Asian and German Folktales, How to Speak Chinese and Italian. Dante and Moyan’s Secret Gay Lovers. The Comprehensive English Grammar Book and Mastering Your Writing Skills.
I went to the mail station, I saw letters randomly placed, and stamps all over the place.
I love you mom, from John. 
Dear Charlotte, I just bought a cat. 
I hope everything goes well. 
Minato fell down the stairs yesterday, he had a stroke. 
Russel died in a wrestle. 
Matthew just watched “Matilda”.
A Berlin boy joined a boycott, 
Sweden shipped an elephant to Egypt, 
let us know what happened in the United States, sure, sure.
For some reason, the texts in the books and letters made me cry, they are like souvenirs my boyfriend sent me from Russia or Australia. I don’t care who sent it but they meant a lot to me.
The guy who lived on the same floor with me was called Gray, he was gay just like me, but we never talked much. His house is much bigger than mine, it consists of two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a toilet. He stored some rice, flour, yeast, and dried beef. Gray lived a pretty interesting life, he had a few fantasy book series, and moreover, a few rifles and a giant bag of cocaine. I always wondered why he went out every night at 11 p.m. I thought he had a nighttime running routine. Mrs. Sealion lived a floor below, she had the name because of the way she walks, and the way every man walks out of her apartment. I had the theory that she might be an undercover witch who was once a frog, now secretly making potions to turn all the amphibians around this area into humans, that will probably explain how some random people I pass by on the street reminded me of all kinds of creatures that inhabit the pond, swamp or bog. Completely different from what I imagined, she had a lot of Renaissance clothes, was secretly learning French, and studying Middle-Age castles. All the other people who lived in the building, I found their place fascinating and I gathered as much stuff as I could for living. The model boy who lived on the first floor turned out to be a transvestite, the old lady living on the sixth floor left some dog meat that had gone stinky, the otaku turned out to be a Nazi, and that politician on the fifth floor loves to read dystopian novels. Now they have all disappeared, these folks who changed into a different creature at night, it is like hyakki yagyo or something. I couldn’t distinguish if the cat meowing on the street was more human, or if the neighbors who once lived in this building were more monstrous. 
你会记得那个夏天,我们一同分享的文字和欢笑。你会想起拼贴诗、自由写作、黏在键盘上宣泄灵感的手指。
我们愿你在文学和生活的道路上大步向前。不忘初心、方得始终。
今年,我们仍邀你赴文字之约!
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