FRANK MCCOURT: I get their attention in writing classes by bringing in The New York Times on Friday and reading Mimi Sheraton's restaurant review. She'd write about the ambiance, and she'd write about the courses and she'd use adjectives for the gravy like satiny or lemony. And she described the fish, the meat, how well it was done, and the vegetables, how well it was served, and so on. And then the service and the price and the wine. And that always got their attention. Then I'd have them go and do likewise. I'd have them review a dinner at home-- last night's chicken. And I said, a la Mimi Sheraton, review the dinner at home. And they'd come in with these wonderful adjectives, but then I'd say, review the-- the review of the food in the cafeteria. Well, it's predictable. You always sneer at the food in the cafeteria. Now, imagine you're a kid from some slum in Mexico or from some distant tribe in Nigeria and you come to this cafeteria for the first time. Describe it now from their point of view. And that was-- that was a hell of an exercise for them. Forget about trying to tell a story, developing anything. Just get it all in a notebook. And then sit quietly, and you'll find that the little echoes will come trembling up from your consciousness, through your subconscious as stories will start coming. And watch out, if you have a kind of a developer kind of a Geiger counter that you run over your life, the landscape of your life, and it'll start clicking. Click, click, click, click along the way. A moment when your parents are not getting along very well. A moment when you fell in love. A moment when you felt rejected. Click, click, click. Watch out for the clicking Geiger counter over the landscape of your life and get that down on paper. This is the hot stuff. This is the meaty and fruitful material.