Occasionally I teach a Novel Writers’ Boot Camp at the Loft, which focuses on generating material for that great novel idea you’ve always had but, somehow, never got down on paper.

The Boot Camp is about tough love, and for some writers, tough love is what they need to get the pen moving. Here are some of the common excuses I have heard from writers, and a bit of advice on how to write without excuse.

Mark Siegel, acquiring editor at First Second Books and graphic illustrator of the online comic Sailor Twain, will visit the Loft for a special Q&A session on February 26 from 10 a.m. to noon. Take this rare opportunity to hear from an industry leader and learn about opportunities and the changing world of graphic novel and comic publishing.

Registration is $31.00 ($27.90 members, $21.70 low-income). Register here.

Roy McBride has always been one of my favorite poets. It’s easy to love him and his work. In the 70’s, he was one of the few African American students writing poetry at Macalester (also my alma mater) back in the day, where he was introduced to touring poets like Amiri Baraka, Sonja Sanchez, and Etheridge Knight. But part of the reason why Roy is really special to me is that he has that Minneapolis flavor—soul poetry by the way of Powderhorn Park. The blues of Lake Street and the 21A. His work was amongst the first I encountered to really give the Twin Cities a lyrical flavor. I am not ashamed to tell you he is one of the few local poets who has ever beaten me at a Minnesota Grand Poetry Slam, and I was honored to lose to him. The right thing happened.

Derek Walcott, who visited the Loft this summer, was just named the T.S. Eliot Prize winner.

The Millions reviews Andrei Codrescu’s The Poetry Lesson, suggesting it might be a great and challenging read for writers.

RIP Anna Yablonsky, acclaimed Ukrainian poet and playwright, one of the many killed in the Moscow airport bombing yesterday.

by Amber Elizabeth Larson

When I was teaching creative writing, I asked my students to read their work out loud to me in our individual conferences. When they were done, we usually discussed places where the language faltered or moments where transitions were rough.

One day, a student was about three pages into his work when he looked up at me and asked, “Can I stop please? This story is really boring.”

His story was boring but he hadn’t thought so until that moment—until he had a real live audience sitting in front of him. When he was writing he’d thought it was brilliant, the best work he’d done all term.