Thursday, October 23, 2008
What you see
Observational skills are a big deal for a writer--for anyone, actually, but especially for artists who need to see and to translate what they see into words. For me, photographs help me see what's there. Here are a few from last night (my newly carved pumpkin) on through to this morning, just minutes ago. What do you see from where you sit, or when you get up and walk around your surroundings?








Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Visiting with your writing
I've posted this link before (I think), but here it is again, Walter Mosley on why you need to visit with your writing daily.
Also, here's a link to a poem that one devoted blog reader, J., thinks is perhaps the greatest thing he ever read.
If you have any links to writings you want us to read, please post!
Also, here's a link to a poem that one devoted blog reader, J., thinks is perhaps the greatest thing he ever read.
If you have any links to writings you want us to read, please post!
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Birthday
Friday, October 10, 2008
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Recuperating ...
... after the Angels' momentous loss. Still reading the Sports page first thing, before any other section of the newspaper. And still getting used to the fact that I'm a fan of baseball, and specifically, the Angels. As for football, no thanks, and boxing, as Sonia brought up the other day, Yuck. If anyone loves boxing, please, tell me why, and what it does for you. I want to understand...I do.
I have the best students in the world. As well as being and great people to know and wonderful writers, they know how to throw a party and make their teacher happy. A total surprise! I loved it. This is one of three cakes
they brought last night for a surprise birthday fest (which is actually next week, a dark night for the class, the night of the debate. What will my family be doing on my birthday? Watching the debate from a restaurant or home! Better order something easily digestible...).
Speaking of which ... I'm trying not to veer into politics, trying not to put down Palin too terrilby much or repeat too often how McCain's voice and the phrases he uses ("my friends" ERGH) bug me, so I won't.
I'll close now, and go work on my novel and The ASJA Monthly.
What's new with y'all? Tell me something!
I have the best students in the world. As well as being and great people to know and wonderful writers, they know how to throw a party and make their teacher happy. A total surprise! I loved it. This is one of three cakes
they brought last night for a surprise birthday fest (which is actually next week, a dark night for the class, the night of the debate. What will my family be doing on my birthday? Watching the debate from a restaurant or home! Better order something easily digestible...).
Speaking of which ... I'm trying not to veer into politics, trying not to put down Palin too terrilby much or repeat too often how McCain's voice and the phrases he uses ("my friends" ERGH) bug me, so I won't.
I'll close now, and go work on my novel and The ASJA Monthly.
What's new with y'all? Tell me something!
Monday, October 06, 2008
Angels sense overload
Friday night Travis and I went to an Angels-Red Sox playoff game. They gave out the thundersticks at the entrance. Fortunately the guys behind us clapped them above our heads and not beside our ears. A few seats down, though, a fan kept us going with cheers. I've never cheered so much in my life or stood at a game so much. Every so often I checked in with my subconscious: Remember this, I telegraphed. Remember the volume of sound, remember the color red, the green of the playing field, the way the players look so white and pristine.
Later, at home, where it was quiet, my ears were ringing, the way it sounds after you go to hear a band that is LOUD.
The Angels sadly lost this second playoff game and last night they played the Red Sox in Boston. Everyone was giving them up for gone. I was worried and nervous and said to Brian, I'm going to be very upset when they lose.
When? he said. When!? No, you have to say 'I'm going to be very happy when they win. When they win!'
I Googled the patron saint of baseball and found the name St. Rita. So all night we remembered St. Rita. Brian played the Rita Meter Maid song and substituted lyrics. I called out to St. Rita. After all, what could be more natural for a saint than to cheer on an Angel?
And when the Angels came back, I thanked St. Rita.
What a game. As my cousin John would say, What a fricken game!
In the LA Times Travel section yesterday, I loved the article about the Dominican Republic. I want to go there. Streets named after baseball players, baseball on ESPN in eateries. Such an addict! It could be worse; it could be much worse, this addiction of mine. It could be cocaine or shopping.
Tonight I teach at UCI so there will be no baseball for me. It's their fourth playoff game, which they have to win, or they're out of the running. I will be thinking of the game, though, and the players, and be reminding St. Rita, silently, to help our guys out.
I want to write about baseball; I just don't know what about yet.
But my sense overload of the other night isn't apt to go away anytime soon. Remembering is a good thing for writing.
It can be a very good thing, indeed.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Celebrate California Writers Week
Next Saturday, the 11th, I'll be in Orange at what sounds like a fun event. Check it out by clicking here.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
West Hollywood Book Fair
Here's that link, again, for the West Hollywood Book Fair taking place tomorrow. My panel is at 2:00. There are a ton of great panels. You can find the schedule on the WEHO Book Fair web site. Hope to see you!
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Westways article on writers events
My editor at Westways, Beth Fhaner, is the best. She sent me this link to my article in the current issue of the magazine.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Anti-Palin rally in Alaska
Sorry, my Republican friends, but we're drawing upon the election and I just have to post things like this. People who voted for her as governor of Alaska do not want her for VP. If she makes it, I may really have to become an ex-pat.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
David Foster Wallace
He was 46 and died in Claremont, CA, of suicide. Here is his 2005 commencement address at Kenyon.
More remembrances of David.
More remembrances of David.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Save Lori Hall Steele's House
Lori is a fellow ASJA member and single mom battling ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease) and chronic Lyme disease. She faces the loss of her home to foreclosure within days because she's too sick to work. She has medical bills totaling more than $50,000, which may ultimately reach $120,000.
She has a seven-year-old son, and prior to the devastating neurological disease that has left her paralyzed and on a breathing machine, wrote over 3,000 published articles. She is 44, and determined to fight this disease with all her strength.
A fundraising drive is on to help her save her house. If everyone donated $25 to help her, it could get done. Click here to learn more. Or send a check to:
Lori Hall Steele
223 W. 7th Street
Traverse City, MI 49684
This is one of those deals where if everyone who could, donated a little, it would become a lot.
She has a seven-year-old son, and prior to the devastating neurological disease that has left her paralyzed and on a breathing machine, wrote over 3,000 published articles. She is 44, and determined to fight this disease with all her strength.
A fundraising drive is on to help her save her house. If everyone donated $25 to help her, it could get done. Click here to learn more. Or send a check to:
Lori Hall Steele
223 W. 7th Street
Traverse City, MI 49684
This is one of those deals where if everyone who could, donated a little, it would become a lot.
Westways Sept./Oct. 2008 issue
I will post the link if Westways puts it up on their website, but if you live in Southern California and you belong to AAA, you've received it. My feature on Southern California literary events and festivals is in its pages.
The last Sunday of this month, I hope to see you at the West Hollywood Book Fair. At around 2:00 in the afternoon, I'll be moderating a panel with literary agents BJ Robbins, Elise Capron and Jenoyne Adams. Please say hi if you come by.
The last Sunday of this month, I hope to see you at the West Hollywood Book Fair. At around 2:00 in the afternoon, I'll be moderating a panel with literary agents BJ Robbins, Elise Capron and Jenoyne Adams. Please say hi if you come by.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
A new Palin disorder
My friend Dennis Palumbo posted this on his blog:
Click here to read more.
<
NEW POLITICAL DIAGNOSIS ANNOUNCED!
Dear Friends and Colleagues,
As a veteran therapist, I'm using this forum to announce the establishment of a new clinical diagnosis: IFP Disorder (Irrational Fear of Palin Disorder).
Since the McCain campaign picked Sarah Palin as their V-P candidate, poll numbers have swung ominously in their favor. The gun-totin', Bible-thumping, anti-choice, book-burning "hockey mom" is America's newest sweetheart.
But that's not the point: what really has amazed me in the past week is the change that has come over my therapy patients. Without fail, they seem oddly uninterested in dealing with their usual issues---relationship conflicts, family concerns, career crises, substance abuse, etc. All they want to talk about is their Fear of Sarah Palin.
Click here to read more.
<
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Palin wants to ban books
If you've kept up with reports about Palin, then you know she's tried to get books banned.
She scares me.
So buy a button that says "I read banned books." Toni Morrison and Mark Twain are among the most challenged authors. Yup.
Here's a link for the button. Scroll to the bottom of the page.
Ergh!
She scares me.
So buy a button that says "I read banned books." Toni Morrison and Mark Twain are among the most challenged authors. Yup.
Here's a link for the button. Scroll to the bottom of the page.
Ergh!
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Jim Tomlinson on short stories and novels
Jim Tomlinson was on the show some time ago with co-host Marrie Stone. I emailed him questions last week regarding the short story form and he graciously responded. Here you are:
BDB: Why do you write short stories?
JT: Short stories give the writer a way to look at some single thing that puzzles or interests. You can turn a situation over in the story and examine it in detail. And maybe, as you write, you'll reach some new level of understanding. Or maybe you'll just gain an appreciation for the mystery of how complex lives and relationships (both the fictional and the real kind)can be.
BDB: Have you ever considered novels?
JT: A novel is a different thing. It has scope. In general, it addresses bigger concerns, portrays the larger part of a character's lifetime, the societal implications of things, long-term effects, moral consequences of deeds, etc. A novel is built of a string of consequences and complications, and a hundred pages in it is hard to remember how different the world seemed starting out. While the short story is usually centered on a moment, the novel is a seemingly endless progression of "and then, and then, and then..." in a grand and pleasingly shaped arc.
Of course, when someone tries to define what a novel is, another someone can always point to examples that disprove it. Still, that's how I think of the novel. I've definitely considered the novel, Barbara. Yes. In fact, I'm working on a novel now.
BDB: Isn't it hard to publish short stories or don't you think that way?
JT: When I'm working on a story, my only concern is writing the next sentence and then the next paragraph and trying to make each word absolutely true. Until I've written and revised a story and polished it into as true a thing as I can, I don't give one moment's thought to whether anyone will want to publish it.
The total market for single short stories is huge. Unfortunately, the paying market (something more than complimentary copies) is a small part of that. And the demand by publishers for single-author books of short fiction is at a low ebb right now. It has been for several years. Writing short stories is not a lucrative business.
The only time I'm concerned with the market for stories is when I'm printing out copies to submit. The market doesn't really matter on the other days, the vast majority, when all you have to concern yourself with is writing.
BDB: Tell me about your latest book.
JT: Nothing Like an Ocean, my second book of stories, is in the publishing pipeline now. It is due out in March, 2009. It's a sequel of sorts to Things Kept, Things Left Behind (Iowa Short Fiction Award). Like those earlier stories, the new ones are set in and around fictional Spivey, Kentucky. Since it's a small town, it seemed natural that some characters and settings from the first book would show up again. And they do. Most of my stories are concerned, at their core, with characters in complex relationships, be they brother and sister, father and son, spouses, or teacher and former student. Gunshots are rare, high-speed chases and outhouses non-existent. There are church dances, though, and drinking on weekends, rainy craft fairs, copper thieves, fume-huffing teens, a rescue greyhound, a rare rabbit, and several flavors of burgeoning romance....something, in short, for everyone.
Barbara, just an hour or two ago I visited your blog and read the recent post. I can relate to the dilemma.
I had a discussion with Claire Messud about my efforts to transition from writing short stories to writing novels, and she questioned my motive for wanting to switch. There is pressure from the industry for every decent story writer to turn out a novel, and I'm guessing that Messud suspected that was motivating me. I told her that I genuinely wanted to write the "bigger story" that a novel canvas allows. "Maybe you aren't a novelist," she said. "Maybe you're a short story writer. That's not a bad thing to be."
She went on to name several writers whom she categorized as essentially story writers.
In trying to make the shift to novels (I've written three complete, unpublishable novels in years past, so I know something about it), I've come to understand how different they are from short stories. Yes, you have characters and scenes and use some of the same writing tools. But there's a whole 'nother level of storytelling and structure that you have to master to turn out a good novel. And I'm still working to get there.
But I'll echo what Messud told me...a short story writer isn't a bad thing to be. In fact, it's a lofty goal when you look at what writers like Chekhov, Carver, Dubus II, etc. have achieved in the form.
BDB: Why do you write short stories?
JT: Short stories give the writer a way to look at some single thing that puzzles or interests. You can turn a situation over in the story and examine it in detail. And maybe, as you write, you'll reach some new level of understanding. Or maybe you'll just gain an appreciation for the mystery of how complex lives and relationships (both the fictional and the real kind)can be.
BDB: Have you ever considered novels?
JT: A novel is a different thing. It has scope. In general, it addresses bigger concerns, portrays the larger part of a character's lifetime, the societal implications of things, long-term effects, moral consequences of deeds, etc. A novel is built of a string of consequences and complications, and a hundred pages in it is hard to remember how different the world seemed starting out. While the short story is usually centered on a moment, the novel is a seemingly endless progression of "and then, and then, and then..." in a grand and pleasingly shaped arc.
Of course, when someone tries to define what a novel is, another someone can always point to examples that disprove it. Still, that's how I think of the novel. I've definitely considered the novel, Barbara. Yes. In fact, I'm working on a novel now.
BDB: Isn't it hard to publish short stories or don't you think that way?
JT: When I'm working on a story, my only concern is writing the next sentence and then the next paragraph and trying to make each word absolutely true. Until I've written and revised a story and polished it into as true a thing as I can, I don't give one moment's thought to whether anyone will want to publish it.
The total market for single short stories is huge. Unfortunately, the paying market (something more than complimentary copies) is a small part of that. And the demand by publishers for single-author books of short fiction is at a low ebb right now. It has been for several years. Writing short stories is not a lucrative business.
The only time I'm concerned with the market for stories is when I'm printing out copies to submit. The market doesn't really matter on the other days, the vast majority, when all you have to concern yourself with is writing.
BDB: Tell me about your latest book.
JT: Nothing Like an Ocean, my second book of stories, is in the publishing pipeline now. It is due out in March, 2009. It's a sequel of sorts to Things Kept, Things Left Behind (Iowa Short Fiction Award). Like those earlier stories, the new ones are set in and around fictional Spivey, Kentucky. Since it's a small town, it seemed natural that some characters and settings from the first book would show up again. And they do. Most of my stories are concerned, at their core, with characters in complex relationships, be they brother and sister, father and son, spouses, or teacher and former student. Gunshots are rare, high-speed chases and outhouses non-existent. There are church dances, though, and drinking on weekends, rainy craft fairs, copper thieves, fume-huffing teens, a rescue greyhound, a rare rabbit, and several flavors of burgeoning romance....something, in short, for everyone.
Barbara, just an hour or two ago I visited your blog and read the recent post. I can relate to the dilemma.
I had a discussion with Claire Messud about my efforts to transition from writing short stories to writing novels, and she questioned my motive for wanting to switch. There is pressure from the industry for every decent story writer to turn out a novel, and I'm guessing that Messud suspected that was motivating me. I told her that I genuinely wanted to write the "bigger story" that a novel canvas allows. "Maybe you aren't a novelist," she said. "Maybe you're a short story writer. That's not a bad thing to be."
She went on to name several writers whom she categorized as essentially story writers.
In trying to make the shift to novels (I've written three complete, unpublishable novels in years past, so I know something about it), I've come to understand how different they are from short stories. Yes, you have characters and scenes and use some of the same writing tools. But there's a whole 'nother level of storytelling and structure that you have to master to turn out a good novel. And I'm still working to get there.
But I'll echo what Messud told me...a short story writer isn't a bad thing to be. In fact, it's a lofty goal when you look at what writers like Chekhov, Carver, Dubus II, etc. have achieved in the form.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
McCain and ... Palin?
I hate being manipulated, but this is what he's done--or at least what he's trying to do. McCain chooses a woman running mate and now all the Hillary backers are going to go his way? Puh-lease. That so denigrates women's intelligence. But hey, Palin's a macho gal, right? A gal who hunts moose and has a mouth on her has to be a good choice for good ole boys. That denigrates everyone's intelligence.
And McCain and Palin just met, something like not more than two weeks before? Bizarre.
I liked Obama prior to his speech the other night, but now I love him. He's sincere, brilliant, and has heart. If you haven't heard it, please, do so now. Here's a link. Or read it here. But what you don't get with the printed version is the sincerity of the man. Obama is awesome. And he writes his own speeches: Imagine!
I didn't dislike McCain before; I just wasn't going to vote for him. But now he seems like a major idiot, someone who's seriously losing his marbles. And should he lose his life while in office, Palin would be president? That's truly scary. Even my brilliant Republican friends, whom I love, can't think this is a good idea. Can they?
Ergh. My friend Marrie says truth is stranger than fiction and she is so right. It's scarier than fiction, too.
And McCain and Palin just met, something like not more than two weeks before? Bizarre.
I liked Obama prior to his speech the other night, but now I love him. He's sincere, brilliant, and has heart. If you haven't heard it, please, do so now. Here's a link. Or read it here. But what you don't get with the printed version is the sincerity of the man. Obama is awesome. And he writes his own speeches: Imagine!
I didn't dislike McCain before; I just wasn't going to vote for him. But now he seems like a major idiot, someone who's seriously losing his marbles. And should he lose his life while in office, Palin would be president? That's truly scary. Even my brilliant Republican friends, whom I love, can't think this is a good idea. Can they?
Ergh. My friend Marrie says truth is stranger than fiction and she is so right. It's scarier than fiction, too.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Palm Desert: Our last morning
Our last hours here. On about the third day I'm on vacation/away, I start settling in and want to stay/move in. But we have things to get back to in Orange Co. Travis starts school next week. I think I made a breakthrough as regards my novel. I wrote a rough draft for an essay. I'm going to talk with Connie, here, about holding a writers' retreat. It's all good.



Wednesday, August 27, 2008
A Palm Desert reprieve
It began with a mojito, homemade by Brian.


Morning on the Lazy River, outside our room.

The desert resort version of NYC, outside our room, also. Great people watching.


Heat, sun, water. Mountains that rise from the stark landscape. Panting birds. Here's where I want to hold a writing retreat in the coming months. Writing during the day, water and big fun at night. A group of 12. A sublime time.
Better pics here than these.
Morning on the Lazy River, outside our room.
The desert resort version of NYC, outside our room, also. Great people watching.
Heat, sun, water. Mountains that rise from the stark landscape. Panting birds. Here's where I want to hold a writing retreat in the coming months. Writing during the day, water and big fun at night. A group of 12. A sublime time.
Better pics here than these.
Monday, August 25, 2008
My essay in today's Los Angeles Times
In case you don't get the print edition, but would like to read it, here it is. If you have any thoughts, comments or questions, bring 'em on.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Short stories vs. novels ... again
If you're in a rush, come back later. There's a lot here. Maybe this long post will make up for my often terse posts, or sporadic ones.
It's long, like a novel, but it's mostly about short stories, which I've been thinking of a lot lately--especially since writing a noir short story for an anthology, which I loved loved loved writing.
I dwell on this so much of late, whether what I'm obsessed with these days -- namely, the past -- should go into my novel or stand alone as a short story. I just read Polly Frost's thoughts on this subject and think: short story! Then I think, short stories can be too short when you tend to write long; my first published short story ("Quickening") was 9,000 words.
Short stories were my first love. I spent my entire time in college writing short stories and poetry. Didn't even consider writing a novel until I was years out of college.
Short stories give you more immediate gratification, too. A novel can take years but a short story might take, at most, a couple of months. Getting it published can be a trial, though, unless you're willing to pub it anywhere.
I just received the new book, Off the Page, edited by Carole Burns. It's a compendium of short pieces with quotes by 40-some writers on aspects of writing. I like what Gish Jen says about novels vs. short stories:
I love novels, yet--and don't hit me for saying this--sometimes I think too many are being published. So many cross my threshold in consideration for the show and I can't help but think some shouldn't have been published at all, and others should be way shorter--short story length, actually. There's such pressure to write novels, not short stories.
Depends on my mood as to what I want to read. Lately I tend to read novels, though I love the noir anthologies published by Akashic Books. Los Angeles Noir is a current favorite. (This year Susan Straight won an Edgar award for her story.) Susan, Gary Phillips and Naomi Hirahara talk about writing noir on my show, which you can hear on podcast. (Enter one of their names in the Search box and you'll find it.)
I asked Frost what she thought about short stories vs. novels. She said:
What about publishing, I said. Is it easier publishing novels?
The conversation isn't over, but this is enough about what I think. What do you think?
It's long, like a novel, but it's mostly about short stories, which I've been thinking of a lot lately--especially since writing a noir short story for an anthology, which I loved loved loved writing.
I dwell on this so much of late, whether what I'm obsessed with these days -- namely, the past -- should go into my novel or stand alone as a short story. I just read Polly Frost's thoughts on this subject and think: short story! Then I think, short stories can be too short when you tend to write long; my first published short story ("Quickening") was 9,000 words.
Short stories were my first love. I spent my entire time in college writing short stories and poetry. Didn't even consider writing a novel until I was years out of college.
Short stories give you more immediate gratification, too. A novel can take years but a short story might take, at most, a couple of months. Getting it published can be a trial, though, unless you're willing to pub it anywhere.
I just received the new book, Off the Page, edited by Carole Burns. It's a compendium of short pieces with quotes by 40-some writers on aspects of writing. I like what Gish Jen says about novels vs. short stories:
It's the difference between having an affair and being married. The story is fun because you can go anywhere, you can write about anything. I think in my stories you can see that there's a slightly giddy air to them. I think you can see I'm on holiday. But there's a way in which you can put everything that you know as a human, including the texture of your life, into a novel.
I love novels, yet--and don't hit me for saying this--sometimes I think too many are being published. So many cross my threshold in consideration for the show and I can't help but think some shouldn't have been published at all, and others should be way shorter--short story length, actually. There's such pressure to write novels, not short stories.
Depends on my mood as to what I want to read. Lately I tend to read novels, though I love the noir anthologies published by Akashic Books. Los Angeles Noir is a current favorite. (This year Susan Straight won an Edgar award for her story.) Susan, Gary Phillips and Naomi Hirahara talk about writing noir on my show, which you can hear on podcast. (Enter one of their names in the Search box and you'll find it.)
I asked Frost what she thought about short stories vs. novels. She said:
God bless everyone in the mainstream book world who publishes short fiction! The New Yorker, the book publishers who are committed to anthologies, the editors who stand up for short story collections. I'm grateful for your radio show and for Tania Hershman's
The Short Review -- you celebrate short fiction!
But I don't think the road to mainstream publication is easy for anyone writing short fiction of any kind, literary or genre, these days. I wish I could say that there is one easier path to get published, but I don't think there it exists.
This is a puzzle to me, to be frank. For one thing, I've been writing and publishing since the mid-1980's, so I've seen phases come and go. There have been times when mainstream publishing gushed out a lot of short fiction of many different kinds, and when critics and readers enjoyed a real wealth of material and talent to explore.
Remember the Gordon Lish years? The years when both women's and men's magazines like Redbook and GQ regularly published short fiction?
Now doesn't seem to be one of those eras. Still, I'm confident the good times will return soon.
For another thing, there's a growing audience for short fiction, especially among younger readers. People are working longer and longer hours, time is getting chopped-up in strange ways, and life seems to be getting faster and faster.
It really should be a great time for short fiction. But maybe we creators of it need to be more entrepreneurial. Maybe we need to take more advantage of the online world, of Amazon's Kindle, of self-publishing, of audio, of doing live readings. I myself did live readings in lounges and bars during the last five years and it was a fantastic experience -- I was happily surprised to get full houses and lively audiences eager to hear short fiction.
So whenever I think the grass may be greener for either literary short fiction writers or other genre writers, I stop myself. The truth is, we short fiction writers need to stop whining and start looking after our own business until mainstream publishing catches up with us and realizes that short fiction rules.
What about publishing, I said. Is it easier publishing novels?
It's absolutely easier on every level if you write a novel, from getting an agent to getting a book published.
A funny experience I had: When I first published a humor story in The New Yorker I got a call from a literary agent. The first thing she said was "So, do you have a novel?"
She lost interest in me the moment I said, "Actually, I haven't thought about writing a novel at all. I love writing short fiction."
I think this attitude on the part of the mainstream book business is, in fact, why there are so many crappy novels out there. I always say that many of today's novels feel like a short story that's gone on way too long!
It's easier, too, to get your book reviewed by the mainstream press (in so far as the mainstream press still even reviews books) if it's a novel.
However, I will say that my story collection, Deep Inside, has been reviewed close to 50 times, by mainstream and online publications and blogs. I found that many editors and critics welcomed a book of short fiction. Like everyone else, they have limited time, and it's appealing for them to read a collection of stories. I can't complain about the coverage I got for my collection -- it was much better than many novelists get.
The conversation isn't over, but this is enough about what I think. What do you think?
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Howard Junker and ZYZZYVA
If you're in the Southern California area, and read The Los Angeles Times, you probably saw this piece on Monday. If not, click here. (And here's ZYZZYVA's blog.)
Stories like this give me hope, and we writers always need signs pointing up.
Stories like this give me hope, and we writers always need signs pointing up.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Q&A with literary agent Gary Heidt
The following is an interview I did earlier this year with NYC literary agent Gary Heidt for The ASJA Monthly.
FinePrint Literary Management agent, Gary Heidt, was a John Jay Scholar at Columbia University and General Manager at WKCR-FM. Upon graduating, he returned to the nightclubs as a gigging musician; the Village Voice called his first album a "masterpiece." He is a published poet and columnist. His librettos for composer Evan Hause's Defenestration Trilogy earned praise from Newsday, Opera News and the New York Press, and his musical comedies (he has written several in collaboration with Gary Miles, including The Feng Shui Assassin and American Eyeball) were described by The Onion as "strangely funny." Originally from Texas, he has lived in New York City for a decade and a half.
Gary is looking for history, science, true crime, pop culture, psychology, business, military and some literary fiction.
BDB: Talk about how you became an agent.
GH: I wrote a few novels, and in the nineties I was briefly represented by two different agents, neither of whom had any luck with my rather precious, self-indulgent work. Ten years later, it occurred to me that those people had what seemed to be a pretty neat job— they were fairly independent and got to read a lot. So I went to work at a literary agency.
BDB: What sort of material do you especially like to handle?
GH: Like everyone, I love something that is truly and deeply funny. I am convinced that humor is the hardest thing to do well. We are awash in bad humor and pathetic comedy, and the bad stuff is really terrible. A finely tuned sense of humor is a wonderful thing, and it enhances any genre of writing. I am also very interested in well-researched history, although it's hard to sell if it isn't by someone who doesn't have any history credentials.
BDB: Is what you like to handle and what sells best one and the same?
GH: What I like to handle is precisely what I think I can sell best. What I like to read for personal fulfillment is often a book I would never represent, because I couldn't sell it. I read poetry, which I don't represent, and some academic nonfiction, university press type stuff, art criticism, histories of banks, things that I would probably not represent as an agent. But I also like to read commercial fiction, thrillers, and mainstream literary stuff.
BDB: Talk about the nonfiction you represent—science, history, psychology....
GH: I recently signed up two physics professors. I love to read about science. History is, to me, about understanding one's self and how the world got to be the way it is. Psychology is murky—I don't do self-help books or prescriptive nonfiction, how to survive depression, things like that. In order to write books in any of these subject areas, these days, one really needs a Ph.D. or a strong resume as a journalist.
BDB: Do you see any particular trends in publishing right now, in terms of what’s being sought after?
GH: Overall, the picture right now is one of downsizing, shrinking lists, former editors standing around fires in hobo encampments wearing fingerless gloves and fighting over tattered copies of McSweeny's. Every publisher wants an author that doesn't need a publisher—in other words, they are eager to sign authors who can sell a half-million copies on their own, through their Web site or their television show. A larger and larger proportion of books are being bought from packagers rather than authors—it's another aspect of editors at corporate houses shifting more of the work of editing onto an external supplier.
BDB: Of course writers shouldn’t pay attention to trends, right?
GH: That depends. If by writers you mean bitter, lonely, unpublished writers, yes, I would agree.
BDB: It’s a conflict for a writer, perhaps especially for literary writers: You want to write from your passion, yet if you’re not aware of what’s selling, you’re considered naïve.
GH: I would say that if you find yourself thinking or saying, "Nothing good is being published now," as I hear so many people say, you should realize that something on the order of 150,000 titles were published last year, and that it's likely that a few good ones may have escaped your notice. I think it is profoundly important for writers to be as aware as possible of their peers. So for literary writers, I would say it's especially important to seek out and champion writers whose work you like. Review books for a local newspaper, on your blog, whatever. I am constantly reading new literary fiction, and there is a lot of very good stuff being written. I would say that literary fiction isn't really about trends, but at the same time, there's no excuse for not being aware of who is doing good work in this day and age. If all the writers who queried me about their literary fiction in the last year bought twelve new literary books a year, we would see an immediate renaissance of literary publishing in this country. If you're stumped because all the critics liked Franzen's novel and you can't stand it, don't stop there. Look for the books the critics ignored, buy them, read them, tell everyone about the good ones.
BDB: Speaking of fiction, what sort of fiction are you attracted to?
GH: My favorite fiction writers today—who are published: In literary fiction, I love Charles Yu, Tito Perdue, Stephen Policoff, Carol Emschwiller, Shelley Jackson, Stephen Wright, Daniel Patrick Scott, Frederick Barthelme, Charles Baxter, Ryan Gattis and Sam Lipsyte. There are a some that I like a lot but which don't speak to me quite as emphatically as that first list, but they are very good and worth reading—folks like Bruce Wagner, Viken Berberian, Walter Kirn, Danuta de Rhodes, Amelie Nothomb, Gregoire Bouillier, Joe McGinnis. In YA, I particularly like Marcus Zusak, Chris Lynch, Sonia Sones and of course Jason Myers. In crime fiction, everyone should read every single book that Charles Ardai's Hard Case Crime publishes. Not that I have, but I would guess I've read over a dozen of them and have yet to be disappointed. In thrillers, I love the team of Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, Lee Childs.
BDB: You’re interested in graphic novels, yes? Please elaborate...
GH: They are a lot of fun to read. I was into Marvel Comics as a kid, and then in the nineties was introduced to Alan Moore's work by a friend of mine. I think that the potential of the genre is nearly limitless. On the business side, the graphic novel shelf is the fastest growing segment of the bookstore. I think publishers are a little confused on how to deal with this, but I am trying to give them some helpful guidance.
BDB: Do you see books going away in favor of electronic publishing?
GH: It could happen. The reading of books has mostly gone away already, and all that's left now are the actual objects. I read somewhere that a pretty large percentage of books are bought as totems. You can put the book on your coffee table or carry it to Starbucks, and it sends a message about who you are. Now how will this work with a Sony Reader? No one will know that you are carrying a copy of The Stranger in that Kindle. The portable electronic readers will go down in price, and once they hit, say, fifty, sixty bucks, I think e-books might do for publishing what the mp3 did for the record business. The good thing about electronic publishing is that it lowers the production cost for a new book, so theoretically more authors could get published.
BDB: If you had to sum yourself up in one line, what would you say?
GH: Don't take it serious, it's too mysterious.--Lew Brown
BDB: How does the fact that you’re a published poet and columnist, and a musician, figure into the mix?
GH: I think I have a better understanding of what goes on in the creative process than some of my fellow agents who haven't pursued these kinds of activities.
BDB: What else should potential clients know about you?
GH: That I want you all to go out and buy a lot of books, especially those by my clients!
Monday, August 04, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Mary Roach, author of Bonk
Here's an interview I did with Mary a few months back, after she was on the show.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Reading John Irving and talking with John Ware
Anyone reading anything good? I'm listening to John Irving's A Widow for One Year and hate to see it end. I love it. I love good novels--great novels--with main characters who are writers. This one has five writers--four novelists and one sassy journalist--who are great characters. Irving is a bit obsessed with breasts, but then again, who isn't?
What book made you feel that way, that you just hated to see it end?
(FYI, one of my favorite literary agents in the entire universe--John Ware--was on the show again the other day. My podcast guru Rob Roy posted it so give it a listen. It's podcast here. If you search his name, you can listen to older shows featuring the great agent.)
What book made you feel that way, that you just hated to see it end?
(FYI, one of my favorite literary agents in the entire universe--John Ware--was on the show again the other day. My podcast guru Rob Roy posted it so give it a listen. It's podcast here. If you search his name, you can listen to older shows featuring the great agent.)
Monday, July 21, 2008
San Diego....
To those of you who've written to me about him...Travis is fine. He says he's not troubled anymore, but when I asked him why he thought he was so freaked out by the little girl, he said, Weren't you freaked out by that? The elevator opens and there's a little Indian girl muttering!
Friday, July 18, 2008
San Diego, little lost girls and Moleskines
This afternoon Travis and I drove down here to San Diego to attend my student Peter's wedding. What a gorgeous ceremony and delicious, fun reception. And Peter looked so handsome in his tux and hot pink vest and Melissa looked beautiful in a sublime beaded strapless gown. They both looked so happy.
We sat and gabbed with Dianne and Ron, and Andy, and afterward drove back to the hotel. At 10 p.m. Travis and I stood in the parking garage on the 3rd floor of the Doubletree, waiting for the elevator. The door opened and out wandered a toddler, a little Hispanic girl in a tee-shirt and undies. Travis and I looked at each other, wearing blank, then befuddled, looks.
Where's your mommy? I said to the girl. Travis' dark eyes went wide. He said nothing.
C'mon, honey, I said, trying to grab her hand to get her back in the elevator to go down to the lobby. She rambled in toddler Spanish and of course my Spanish is bad.
We got her back into the elevator and hit the button for the lobby. Travis did not say a word while I was thinking, how does someone lose a little girl? And what if it wasn't us finding her but someone else?
We got her over to the registration desk and I said to the reservationist who had checked us in, We just found this little girl.
A moment before he was laughing with the couple he was helping with directions, but now he looked completely puzzled.
And then from the direction of the elevator I saw a couple of Hispanic women looking slightly curious as they looked around and I said to the reservationist, Maybe one of them is the mom, and then one of the women saw the little girl and yes, it was the mom, or auntie, or someone, anyway, who was connected to the cutie.
She picked up the girl and they went into the elevator. So did we. I said, We found her coming out of the elevator on the third floor, and she said, Oh, thank you, and I'm thinking she wasn't as freaked out as we were, as Travis was, as I would be if I just lost my kid.
They got off on the 8th floor. On the ride up to the 14th floor, we said little. Travis was unsettled. What's wrong? I said. I don't know, he said. Then: That was weird!
Our room key didn't work, and Travis said, I don't like San Diego.
Oh, come on, I said, it's a good thing it was us who were there. Someone else might have snatched her for his or her own.
Don't say that! Travis said.
I'm just saying, I said.
We tried the key a few more times, then hiked back down the hall to the house phone and called the lobby. Someone will come up with a new key, a voice told me. Travis sounded funny, incredulous, when he said, Shouldn't we have a little bit of good karma for that?
Why are you so freaked out? I said.
He said he imagined the mother was killed in her hotel room and that was why the girl was wandering around alone and in the elevator.
Honey, I said, but I'm thinking: My kid has watched one too many Hitchcock films and has brainstormed with me about plot for noir stories a bit too much, maybe?
A bellman came with a new key, we strode down the hall to our room and the key worked.
Travis knows how to plot. He has a great imagination and spins out plots to me, or inciting incidents for stories. I've kidded him: You're great at plot for someone who doesn't want to write.
But now he was saying he wanted a Moleskine notebook so he could write these things down.
You have two Moleskines, I said. We'd just bought him two pocket sized notebooks a couple of weeks ago.
Those are for music, he said. I need one to write down stories, to write a book. I'm going to write a book, he said, laughing strangely, surprising himself at hearing those words.
Writing would help you purge this stuff, for sure, I told him, as he went into the bathroom. I was still feeling a bit creeped out, too. I started thinking: What if those women weren't the kid's relatives, but someone else, or what if they were doing her harm, and she escaped, and now we sent her back to her tormentors?
Such is a writer's mind, always going, always imagining....
We sat and gabbed with Dianne and Ron, and Andy, and afterward drove back to the hotel. At 10 p.m. Travis and I stood in the parking garage on the 3rd floor of the Doubletree, waiting for the elevator. The door opened and out wandered a toddler, a little Hispanic girl in a tee-shirt and undies. Travis and I looked at each other, wearing blank, then befuddled, looks.
Where's your mommy? I said to the girl. Travis' dark eyes went wide. He said nothing.
C'mon, honey, I said, trying to grab her hand to get her back in the elevator to go down to the lobby. She rambled in toddler Spanish and of course my Spanish is bad.
We got her back into the elevator and hit the button for the lobby. Travis did not say a word while I was thinking, how does someone lose a little girl? And what if it wasn't us finding her but someone else?
We got her over to the registration desk and I said to the reservationist who had checked us in, We just found this little girl.
A moment before he was laughing with the couple he was helping with directions, but now he looked completely puzzled.
And then from the direction of the elevator I saw a couple of Hispanic women looking slightly curious as they looked around and I said to the reservationist, Maybe one of them is the mom, and then one of the women saw the little girl and yes, it was the mom, or auntie, or someone, anyway, who was connected to the cutie.
She picked up the girl and they went into the elevator. So did we. I said, We found her coming out of the elevator on the third floor, and she said, Oh, thank you, and I'm thinking she wasn't as freaked out as we were, as Travis was, as I would be if I just lost my kid.
They got off on the 8th floor. On the ride up to the 14th floor, we said little. Travis was unsettled. What's wrong? I said. I don't know, he said. Then: That was weird!
Our room key didn't work, and Travis said, I don't like San Diego.
Oh, come on, I said, it's a good thing it was us who were there. Someone else might have snatched her for his or her own.
Don't say that! Travis said.
I'm just saying, I said.
We tried the key a few more times, then hiked back down the hall to the house phone and called the lobby. Someone will come up with a new key, a voice told me. Travis sounded funny, incredulous, when he said, Shouldn't we have a little bit of good karma for that?
Why are you so freaked out? I said.
He said he imagined the mother was killed in her hotel room and that was why the girl was wandering around alone and in the elevator.
Honey, I said, but I'm thinking: My kid has watched one too many Hitchcock films and has brainstormed with me about plot for noir stories a bit too much, maybe?
A bellman came with a new key, we strode down the hall to our room and the key worked.
Travis knows how to plot. He has a great imagination and spins out plots to me, or inciting incidents for stories. I've kidded him: You're great at plot for someone who doesn't want to write.
But now he was saying he wanted a Moleskine notebook so he could write these things down.
You have two Moleskines, I said. We'd just bought him two pocket sized notebooks a couple of weeks ago.
Those are for music, he said. I need one to write down stories, to write a book. I'm going to write a book, he said, laughing strangely, surprising himself at hearing those words.
Writing would help you purge this stuff, for sure, I told him, as he went into the bathroom. I was still feeling a bit creeped out, too. I started thinking: What if those women weren't the kid's relatives, but someone else, or what if they were doing her harm, and she escaped, and now we sent her back to her tormentors?
Such is a writer's mind, always going, always imagining....
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Sunday's event
This coming Sunday I'll be at Barnes & Noble, Fashion Island, Newport Beach, 1 p.m., talking about essays, maybe, or knitting, or both--depending on the crowd. Come by! My essay, "Knitting: My Urban Escape," is in the new(ish) anthology, Knitting Through It: Inspiring Stories for Troubled Times (Voyageur).
Friday, July 04, 2008
Orange Coast Magazine's Best of OC

It's a tad embarrassing (embarrassing because I'm more used to being behind the scenes. After all, no one can see you on radio), but some of you may be interested in this piece. (Scan to the bottom for the copy.) It's a nice mention by Orange Coast, which has become a readable magazine again, now that Marty Smith is back at the helm.
Photo credit: Bradley Meinz
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Charles Baxter Q&A
Here is an interview I did with Charles Baxter for The ASJA Monthly, which I edit.
BDB: You began as a poet. Do you think this was because you grew up in a literary family (with Brenda Ueland as a friend of the family--how lucky!)? Or did you just have a thing for language early on?
CB: I saw Brenda often, and she bullied me, as a strong aunt might, and in a pleasing way. She told me that I should do what I wanted to do in life. It was radical advice. My family wasn’t especially literary, though my parents had known some novelists, such
as Sinclair Lewis and Robert Penn Warren, in their day. I began as a poet—as most poets do—because I had an intense inner life exacerbated by solitude, and because I fell in love with poetry at the age of seventeen, when I first read the work of James Wright.
BDB: When did you turn to fiction, and why?
CB: I dabbled in it until I was in my thirties, when I began to dedicate my life to it. I noticed that my poems were all narratives, and I found that I was particularly interested in characters, and in sequences: what people do when they’re under pressure, how they get themselves into interesting trouble. That’s the interest of a fiction writer.
BDB: I read a funny story in a Ploughshares profile about you that you had
an agent who asked you why she hated your first novel. Care to elaborate?
CB: It was unpleasant. I’d sent this agent (not my current agent, of course) a novel manuscript, and she said over the phone that she hated it; then she asked me why she hated it. I told her that I didn’t know. She insisted that I answer her. She was very cruel, of course; she had a mean streak.
BDB: And then you gave up writing fiction, deciding you would teach and write criticism?
CB: Yes. Well, I didn’t give up writing it. I resolved to give it up, but I couldn’t, quite.
BDB: But then you didn't quit--you merged three novels into one....
CB: No. What I did was to write a story, “Harmony of the World,” about a failed artist, which is what I thought I was. In the story, he’s a musician, not a writer. With the irony of which life is so fond, the story was published and anthologized and lifted my spirits a bit, so that I thought maybe I could live in the world as a writer after all. You never know who or what will give you permission to be the person you want to be. Brenda Ueland had, but few others had, in my case.
BDB: Since then, you've published four novels, the lastest being The Soul
Thief. What inspired this book?
CB: It began in an odd way, with something that happened to me years ago, when there was, briefly, an imposter Charles Baxter. Also, I have a friend who, when she was a freshman at Duke University, found that her roommate was stealing her clothes and beginning to imitate her, unconsciously. And lately I’ve been thinking about MySpace and Facebook, and how virtual identities can be concocted in our time. It’s a very strange feature of our age, this trading-off of identities.
BDB: One of your books, Feast of Love, was turned into a movie. How satisfying was this experience?
CB: I was pleased that they wanted to make a movie of the book, which I knew would be very difficult to adapt. Many talented people worked on that movie.
BDB: How do you generally begin: theme, character, image?
CB: I never know. It changes from project to project. Sometimes I begin with a dramatic image, of someone-doing-something. I don’t have any rules about where I should begin. Out with the rules!
BDB: As well as novels, you've published nonfiction, which I always recommend to my students because of your non-generic slant. Talk about your collection, Burning Down the House, and how this came about, as well as the controversy at least one of these essays inspired.
CB: I’ve been associated for years with the Warren Wilson College MFA program for writers, and I’ve given many lectures there. I revised them for that book. It was never my intention to give how-to lectures. If you give how-to advice, you’re involved in the how-to-write-literature racket. Instead, I tried to isolate certain features of cultural life (how we gossip, for example) and compare those features to how we tell, write, and read stories. Two essays in that book (Burning Down the House) got me into some controveries: the essay “Against Epiphanies”—which some readers mis-read as an attack on insight—and the “Dysfunctional Narratives essay, which was interpreted as an attack on our mealy-mouthed Chief Executives, who had disavowed responsibilty for bad outcomes. That’s just what it was.
BDB: How do you merge all of the various forms you write and publish in--short stories, novels, nonfiction? How do you decide what you're going to spend the next however long on a particular project?
CB: It’s whatever I also want to do next. I follow my impulses.
BDB: You're also an instructor! You must be highly organized, to be so prolific and to teach as well.
CB: No. I feel that I’m completely disorganized. It’s a wonder that I get anything done at all.
BDB: By the way, how do you teach writing? I've read that you"eschew how-to
tutorials on fiction writing."
CB: I try to read the work as closely as I can, and then describe it to the writer. After that, if the form and content seem to be at cross-purposes, I’ll try to say why.
BDB: In The Soul Thief, there is some of the best description about Los Angeles, as if you've never been here. Yet, you say you've traveled here often. Talk about writing landscape.
CB: You sometimes have to write about a place as if you’re a stranger to it. The description of LA in that book is a stranger’s description of it, in which details that residents take for granted are made strange again—odd, and worthy of attention. I never get used to LA, much as I sometimes like it.
BDB: Do you ever concern yourself with the marketplace? Seems the marketplace hangs over so many writers' heads.
CB: No, not any more. If you think too much about the marketplace, you turn into a hack. Of course you think about readers, but you can’t be too concerned with sales.
BDB: What are your reading right now?
CB: I just finished Richard Price’s Lush Life and Scott Spencer’s Willing. I’m also re-reading War and Peace, in sections, and I have Imre Kertesz’s Detective Story nearby.
BDB: Any words of wisdom for our [ASJA] members?
CB: No. I probably need words of wisdom more than they do.
BDB: You began as a poet. Do you think this was because you grew up in a literary family (with Brenda Ueland as a friend of the family--how lucky!)? Or did you just have a thing for language early on?
CB: I saw Brenda often, and she bullied me, as a strong aunt might, and in a pleasing way. She told me that I should do what I wanted to do in life. It was radical advice. My family wasn’t especially literary, though my parents had known some novelists, such
as Sinclair Lewis and Robert Penn Warren, in their day. I began as a poet—as most poets do—because I had an intense inner life exacerbated by solitude, and because I fell in love with poetry at the age of seventeen, when I first read the work of James Wright.
BDB: When did you turn to fiction, and why?
CB: I dabbled in it until I was in my thirties, when I began to dedicate my life to it. I noticed that my poems were all narratives, and I found that I was particularly interested in characters, and in sequences: what people do when they’re under pressure, how they get themselves into interesting trouble. That’s the interest of a fiction writer.
BDB: I read a funny story in a Ploughshares profile about you that you had
an agent who asked you why she hated your first novel. Care to elaborate?
CB: It was unpleasant. I’d sent this agent (not my current agent, of course) a novel manuscript, and she said over the phone that she hated it; then she asked me why she hated it. I told her that I didn’t know. She insisted that I answer her. She was very cruel, of course; she had a mean streak.
BDB: And then you gave up writing fiction, deciding you would teach and write criticism?
CB: Yes. Well, I didn’t give up writing it. I resolved to give it up, but I couldn’t, quite.
BDB: But then you didn't quit--you merged three novels into one....
CB: No. What I did was to write a story, “Harmony of the World,” about a failed artist, which is what I thought I was. In the story, he’s a musician, not a writer. With the irony of which life is so fond, the story was published and anthologized and lifted my spirits a bit, so that I thought maybe I could live in the world as a writer after all. You never know who or what will give you permission to be the person you want to be. Brenda Ueland had, but few others had, in my case.
BDB: Since then, you've published four novels, the lastest being The Soul
Thief. What inspired this book?
CB: It began in an odd way, with something that happened to me years ago, when there was, briefly, an imposter Charles Baxter. Also, I have a friend who, when she was a freshman at Duke University, found that her roommate was stealing her clothes and beginning to imitate her, unconsciously. And lately I’ve been thinking about MySpace and Facebook, and how virtual identities can be concocted in our time. It’s a very strange feature of our age, this trading-off of identities.
BDB: One of your books, Feast of Love, was turned into a movie. How satisfying was this experience?
CB: I was pleased that they wanted to make a movie of the book, which I knew would be very difficult to adapt. Many talented people worked on that movie.
BDB: How do you generally begin: theme, character, image?
CB: I never know. It changes from project to project. Sometimes I begin with a dramatic image, of someone-doing-something. I don’t have any rules about where I should begin. Out with the rules!
BDB: As well as novels, you've published nonfiction, which I always recommend to my students because of your non-generic slant. Talk about your collection, Burning Down the House, and how this came about, as well as the controversy at least one of these essays inspired.
CB: I’ve been associated for years with the Warren Wilson College MFA program for writers, and I’ve given many lectures there. I revised them for that book. It was never my intention to give how-to lectures. If you give how-to advice, you’re involved in the how-to-write-literature racket. Instead, I tried to isolate certain features of cultural life (how we gossip, for example) and compare those features to how we tell, write, and read stories. Two essays in that book (Burning Down the House) got me into some controveries: the essay “Against Epiphanies”—which some readers mis-read as an attack on insight—and the “Dysfunctional Narratives essay, which was interpreted as an attack on our mealy-mouthed Chief Executives, who had disavowed responsibilty for bad outcomes. That’s just what it was.
BDB: How do you merge all of the various forms you write and publish in--short stories, novels, nonfiction? How do you decide what you're going to spend the next however long on a particular project?
CB: It’s whatever I also want to do next. I follow my impulses.
BDB: You're also an instructor! You must be highly organized, to be so prolific and to teach as well.
CB: No. I feel that I’m completely disorganized. It’s a wonder that I get anything done at all.
BDB: By the way, how do you teach writing? I've read that you"eschew how-to
tutorials on fiction writing."
CB: I try to read the work as closely as I can, and then describe it to the writer. After that, if the form and content seem to be at cross-purposes, I’ll try to say why.
BDB: In The Soul Thief, there is some of the best description about Los Angeles, as if you've never been here. Yet, you say you've traveled here often. Talk about writing landscape.
CB: You sometimes have to write about a place as if you’re a stranger to it. The description of LA in that book is a stranger’s description of it, in which details that residents take for granted are made strange again—odd, and worthy of attention. I never get used to LA, much as I sometimes like it.
BDB: Do you ever concern yourself with the marketplace? Seems the marketplace hangs over so many writers' heads.
CB: No, not any more. If you think too much about the marketplace, you turn into a hack. Of course you think about readers, but you can’t be too concerned with sales.
BDB: What are your reading right now?
CB: I just finished Richard Price’s Lush Life and Scott Spencer’s Willing. I’m also re-reading War and Peace, in sections, and I have Imre Kertesz’s Detective Story nearby.
BDB: Any words of wisdom for our [ASJA] members?
CB: No. I probably need words of wisdom more than they do.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
The economy and publishing
BJK asked me to address the following here: "How does the economy affect publishing? Buying manuscripts etc?"
There are others who could address this question better than me, but first I would ask BJK: Why do you want to know? Why is this important? How will it affect your writing? If I tell you I've heard that the economy is making it even more difficult to get published, what will you do? Will that make you write harder or take a vacation?
All kidding aside, I'm thinking that you should check out MJ Rose (you can Google her). She talks about business a lot. Or you should forget about it.
Not what you were hoping for, huh?
There are others who could address this question better than me, but first I would ask BJK: Why do you want to know? Why is this important? How will it affect your writing? If I tell you I've heard that the economy is making it even more difficult to get published, what will you do? Will that make you write harder or take a vacation?
All kidding aside, I'm thinking that you should check out MJ Rose (you can Google her). She talks about business a lot. Or you should forget about it.
Not what you were hoping for, huh?
Monday, June 23, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
David Benioff interview
David Benioff recently spoke with my co-host Marrie Stone on my show, "Writers on Writing." But there was a broadcasting glitch, and not only was no one able to tune in, it also will not be podcast. So here is some of that interview, thanks to Marrie.
David Benioff is an author and screenwriter. He adapted his first novel, The 25th Hour, into the feature film directed by Spike Lee. He also adapted The Kite Runner for screen and wrote the script for Wolverine. In addition he is also working with D.B. Weiss on an HBO adaptation of George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series, which is due out in 2009. Stories from his critically acclaimed collection When the Nines Roll Over appeared in Best New American Voices and The Best Nonrequired American Reading. He is a graduate of our very own UC-Irvine MFA program. And it is his latest novel, City of Thieves, published by Viking that we’ll be talking about this morning.
(The following is a synopsis taken from the publisher’s comments about City of Thieves.)
A writer visits his retired grandparents in Florida to document their experience during the infamous siege of Leningrad. His grandmother won't talk about it, but his grandfather reluctantly consents. The result is the captivating odyssey of two young men trying to survive against desperate odds.
Lev Beniov considers himself "built for deprivation." He's small, smart, and insecure, a Jewish virgin too young for the army, who spends his nights working as a volunteer firefighter with friends from his building. When a dead German paratrooper lands in his street, Lev is caught looting the body and dragged to jail, fearing for his life. He shares his cell with the charismatic and grandiose Kolya, a handsome young soldier arrested on desertion charges. Instead of the standard bullet in the back of the head, Lev and Kolya are given a shot at saving their own lives by complying with an outrageous directive: secure a dozen eggs for a powerful colonel to use in his daughter's wedding cake. In a city cut off from all supplies and suffering unbelievable deprivation, Lev and Kolya embark on a hunt to find the impossible. A search that takes them through the dire lawlessness of Leningrad and the devastated surrounding countryside creates an unlikely bond between this earnest, lust-filled teenager and an endearing lothario with the gifts of a conman. Set within the monumental events of history, City of Thieves is an intimate coming-of-age tale with an utterly contemporary feel for how boys become men.
MS: It feels like it would be terribly easy to fall into an entirely macabre tone in this book, given the subject matter, given the stand-out scenes which I won’t give away. But if one can imagine the Siege of Leningrad in any detail at all, you can imagine what went on. And yet that’s not the feel of this novel. It’s not oppressive and hard to take. It’s got its moments, but it also has moments of real humor and sex and love and the whole spectrum of emotions. Was it difficult to lift your characters out of this molasses of despair and keep them going in the face of all that adversity?
DB: I was fortunate enough to be able to visit St. Petersburg with a friend and translator while working on this book. One thing that really struck me, and this is true in other countries as well, but particularly in Russia, was how fiercely connected the Russians are to their literature. People walking around quoting Pushkin all the time. I don’t know who the American equivalent of Pushkin might be, but I know we don’t quote literature in this way.
From the diaries I studied, it became apparent that the Russians really did stay connected to their culture during the siege. They still wrote, they still read, they still attended theater and concerts. If the first violinist was on the front lines, they turned to the second violinist. If he was gone, they found another. They were very attached to culture and to humor. They didn’t give up who they essentially were in the face of what was going on around them, and I wanted to retain that spirit in writing the book.
MS: You said that Ann Patchett once told you to chose the single best book on the given subject and study it obsessively. As opposed to reading a dozen books on the subject. What’s the wisdom in this advice?
DB: Ann was one of my mentors at UCI. She wrote this fabulous book called The Magician’s Assistant and she seemed to know magic in and out. I asked her about research and she advised getting the one definitive book and studying it fiercely. The thinking being that if you studying too many texts or books on a subject, you become someone who sets out to write a sort of high school report that may be factually accurate, but is lacking imagination. With that said, I was too overwhelmed to enter into a project so big—the Siege of Leningrad—something that happened long ago and far away, without really getting my facts straight. So I read quite a bit. But the real texts that I relied upon were Harrison Salisbury’s, “The 900 Days” and “Kaputt,” by Curzio Malaparte, an Italian journalist who was an early Fascist (he marched on Rome with Mussolini) before becoming disillusioned with the movement. He had remarkable access to the German and Finnish officers commanding the invasion of Russia, his writing is beautiful, and I ransacked his reportage for many key details. And the diaries.
MS: I like the device of putting your characters on a deadline. There was a ticking clock in this novel, and also in “The 25th Hour.” Something needs to be solved or done by a particular time or there’s some consequence. It strikes me as a good suspense builder, and a good way to keep momentum. Is this a screenwriting ploy or something you build into most of your material?
DB: After my first book was rejected, and I worked up the courage to sit down and read all the rejections, the gist of the feedback was that nothing was really holding it together. The novel took place over 30 years and there was no cohesive story. At first, I thought they were all wrong. I thought they were just idiots who didn’t understand what I was trying to do. But after I sat with it, I realized they were right. So I forced myself to have some structure to the narrative in the form of something having to be accomplished. The 25th Hour has a deadline. It’s the 24 hours before this man goes off to prison. And this novel obviously has a deadline motivating the movement of the novel. I think it’s a good way to keep yourself on track.
MS: One thing that struck me, and maybe this is just because I knew you were a screenwriter going into the book, but this is a very visual novel. There are some novels that you feel—you’re in the character’s brain and there are amazing insights and ways of looking at the world—and this had that too. But there are other novels that you really see. This had the feeling of a movie playing in my brain. The language was almost tactile somehow. Talk if you would about how your screenwriting informs your fiction writing, and what the two mediums can give to each other.
DB: The good part about screenwriting is that it made me a very disciplined writer. Working within the constraints and pressures of time . . . you have to tell a story, a fully fleshed out story, in 120 pages. If you see the number 200 or more on your page count, you’re done and over. So there’s a real discipline to telling a story in a compressed time. The bad part of screenwriting is that it makes you a lazy novelist. While I can just write “interior restaurant” on a script and I know the production director and lighting guy and location scout will take care of it all, you can’t do that in a novel. You have to slog through descriptions of where you are and make it come alive on your own. And that takes discipline. The first section of this novel took me months because I was out of practice on describing things well.
MS: You had this to say about writer’s block: “Writer’s block, I think, is often the result of a frustrated anticipation for inspiration. But if you’re writing for a living, you can’t sit around waiting for the muses. You get your butt in the chair, you turn on the computer, and you write, and if the writing’s no good you keep doing it anyway, because that’s all you’re good for.” I rearranged a few words for radio. But I do like you combating the notion of inspiration or the muses or whatever it is we think we need to write.
DB: I have this friend who I went to college with. Brilliant writer. I always thought he was the best writer among us. And now he barely has written a word. Every few days he writes me these gorgeous emails. And on the one hand, I’m so happy to receive them. They’re beautiful and poetic, and on the other hand it makes me so angry that his talent is going to waste. He always says he’s waiting for inspiration, or he’s stymied because he can’t write until he feels he really has some insight or some phrase or something important to say. We’ve been having this debate for years and years, and I’m so frustrated with him because it’s just wonderful talent going completely to waste. You can’t wait for inspiration. It’s rare. It happens, but it happens so infrequently that if you rely on it, you’re doomed.
MS: You came out of the UCI MFA program. No need to let that influence your answer here. But seriously, I’m curious about your feelings on MFA programs in general and what you may have gained from it in particular.
DB: I do see value in the MFA programs. For one thing, I was able to study with some incredible writers. Ann Patchett, Geoffrey Wolff to name a few. What the MFA program did was give me time to focus on nothing but writing. And while I know there are people out there who can handle a job and keep writing (Khaled Hosseini is one rare example, who kept writing while practicing medicine), that’s not easy for most of us. And while I was in the program, I was teaching undergraduates which paid for my time there. And being around that kind of intellectual stimulation was very exciting. So it gave me time and focus and access to amazing writers.
MS: Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?
DB: My advice to screenwriters is to read more screenplays. Good screenplays. “Carnal Knowledge” and “Chinatown,” to name a couple. We’re told as novelists to read, read, read. But I don’t think scriptwriters are given the same advice, and it’s a shame.
My advice to novelists is just to get into the discipline of sitting down to write. There’s no other way around it.
David Benioff is an author and screenwriter. He adapted his first novel, The 25th Hour, into the feature film directed by Spike Lee. He also adapted The Kite Runner for screen and wrote the script for Wolverine. In addition he is also working with D.B. Weiss on an HBO adaptation of George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series, which is due out in 2009. Stories from his critically acclaimed collection When the Nines Roll Over appeared in Best New American Voices and The Best Nonrequired American Reading. He is a graduate of our very own UC-Irvine MFA program. And it is his latest novel, City of Thieves, published by Viking that we’ll be talking about this morning.
(The following is a synopsis taken from the publisher’s comments about City of Thieves.)
A writer visits his retired grandparents in Florida to document their experience during the infamous siege of Leningrad. His grandmother won't talk about it, but his grandfather reluctantly consents. The result is the captivating odyssey of two young men trying to survive against desperate odds.
Lev Beniov considers himself "built for deprivation." He's small, smart, and insecure, a Jewish virgin too young for the army, who spends his nights working as a volunteer firefighter with friends from his building. When a dead German paratrooper lands in his street, Lev is caught looting the body and dragged to jail, fearing for his life. He shares his cell with the charismatic and grandiose Kolya, a handsome young soldier arrested on desertion charges. Instead of the standard bullet in the back of the head, Lev and Kolya are given a shot at saving their own lives by complying with an outrageous directive: secure a dozen eggs for a powerful colonel to use in his daughter's wedding cake. In a city cut off from all supplies and suffering unbelievable deprivation, Lev and Kolya embark on a hunt to find the impossible. A search that takes them through the dire lawlessness of Leningrad and the devastated surrounding countryside creates an unlikely bond between this earnest, lust-filled teenager and an endearing lothario with the gifts of a conman. Set within the monumental events of history, City of Thieves is an intimate coming-of-age tale with an utterly contemporary feel for how boys become men.
MS: It feels like it would be terribly easy to fall into an entirely macabre tone in this book, given the subject matter, given the stand-out scenes which I won’t give away. But if one can imagine the Siege of Leningrad in any detail at all, you can imagine what went on. And yet that’s not the feel of this novel. It’s not oppressive and hard to take. It’s got its moments, but it also has moments of real humor and sex and love and the whole spectrum of emotions. Was it difficult to lift your characters out of this molasses of despair and keep them going in the face of all that adversity?
DB: I was fortunate enough to be able to visit St. Petersburg with a friend and translator while working on this book. One thing that really struck me, and this is true in other countries as well, but particularly in Russia, was how fiercely connected the Russians are to their literature. People walking around quoting Pushkin all the time. I don’t know who the American equivalent of Pushkin might be, but I know we don’t quote literature in this way.
From the diaries I studied, it became apparent that the Russians really did stay connected to their culture during the siege. They still wrote, they still read, they still attended theater and concerts. If the first violinist was on the front lines, they turned to the second violinist. If he was gone, they found another. They were very attached to culture and to humor. They didn’t give up who they essentially were in the face of what was going on around them, and I wanted to retain that spirit in writing the book.
MS: You said that Ann Patchett once told you to chose the single best book on the given subject and study it obsessively. As opposed to reading a dozen books on the subject. What’s the wisdom in this advice?
DB: Ann was one of my mentors at UCI. She wrote this fabulous book called The Magician’s Assistant and she seemed to know magic in and out. I asked her about research and she advised getting the one definitive book and studying it fiercely. The thinking being that if you studying too many texts or books on a subject, you become someone who sets out to write a sort of high school report that may be factually accurate, but is lacking imagination. With that said, I was too overwhelmed to enter into a project so big—the Siege of Leningrad—something that happened long ago and far away, without really getting my facts straight. So I read quite a bit. But the real texts that I relied upon were Harrison Salisbury’s, “The 900 Days” and “Kaputt,” by Curzio Malaparte, an Italian journalist who was an early Fascist (he marched on Rome with Mussolini) before becoming disillusioned with the movement. He had remarkable access to the German and Finnish officers commanding the invasion of Russia, his writing is beautiful, and I ransacked his reportage for many key details. And the diaries.
MS: I like the device of putting your characters on a deadline. There was a ticking clock in this novel, and also in “The 25th Hour.” Something needs to be solved or done by a particular time or there’s some consequence. It strikes me as a good suspense builder, and a good way to keep momentum. Is this a screenwriting ploy or something you build into most of your material?
DB: After my first book was rejected, and I worked up the courage to sit down and read all the rejections, the gist of the feedback was that nothing was really holding it together. The novel took place over 30 years and there was no cohesive story. At first, I thought they were all wrong. I thought they were just idiots who didn’t understand what I was trying to do. But after I sat with it, I realized they were right. So I forced myself to have some structure to the narrative in the form of something having to be accomplished. The 25th Hour has a deadline. It’s the 24 hours before this man goes off to prison. And this novel obviously has a deadline motivating the movement of the novel. I think it’s a good way to keep yourself on track.
MS: One thing that struck me, and maybe this is just because I knew you were a screenwriter going into the book, but this is a very visual novel. There are some novels that you feel—you’re in the character’s brain and there are amazing insights and ways of looking at the world—and this had that too. But there are other novels that you really see. This had the feeling of a movie playing in my brain. The language was almost tactile somehow. Talk if you would about how your screenwriting informs your fiction writing, and what the two mediums can give to each other.
DB: The good part about screenwriting is that it made me a very disciplined writer. Working within the constraints and pressures of time . . . you have to tell a story, a fully fleshed out story, in 120 pages. If you see the number 200 or more on your page count, you’re done and over. So there’s a real discipline to telling a story in a compressed time. The bad part of screenwriting is that it makes you a lazy novelist. While I can just write “interior restaurant” on a script and I know the production director and lighting guy and location scout will take care of it all, you can’t do that in a novel. You have to slog through descriptions of where you are and make it come alive on your own. And that takes discipline. The first section of this novel took me months because I was out of practice on describing things well.
MS: You had this to say about writer’s block: “Writer’s block, I think, is often the result of a frustrated anticipation for inspiration. But if you’re writing for a living, you can’t sit around waiting for the muses. You get your butt in the chair, you turn on the computer, and you write, and if the writing’s no good you keep doing it anyway, because that’s all you’re good for.” I rearranged a few words for radio. But I do like you combating the notion of inspiration or the muses or whatever it is we think we need to write.
DB: I have this friend who I went to college with. Brilliant writer. I always thought he was the best writer among us. And now he barely has written a word. Every few days he writes me these gorgeous emails. And on the one hand, I’m so happy to receive them. They’re beautiful and poetic, and on the other hand it makes me so angry that his talent is going to waste. He always says he’s waiting for inspiration, or he’s stymied because he can’t write until he feels he really has some insight or some phrase or something important to say. We’ve been having this debate for years and years, and I’m so frustrated with him because it’s just wonderful talent going completely to waste. You can’t wait for inspiration. It’s rare. It happens, but it happens so infrequently that if you rely on it, you’re doomed.
MS: You came out of the UCI MFA program. No need to let that influence your answer here. But seriously, I’m curious about your feelings on MFA programs in general and what you may have gained from it in particular.
DB: I do see value in the MFA programs. For one thing, I was able to study with some incredible writers. Ann Patchett, Geoffrey Wolff to name a few. What the MFA program did was give me time to focus on nothing but writing. And while I know there are people out there who can handle a job and keep writing (Khaled Hosseini is one rare example, who kept writing while practicing medicine), that’s not easy for most of us. And while I was in the program, I was teaching undergraduates which paid for my time there. And being around that kind of intellectual stimulation was very exciting. So it gave me time and focus and access to amazing writers.
MS: Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?
DB: My advice to screenwriters is to read more screenplays. Good screenplays. “Carnal Knowledge” and “Chinatown,” to name a couple. We’re told as novelists to read, read, read. But I don’t think scriptwriters are given the same advice, and it’s a shame.
My advice to novelists is just to get into the discipline of sitting down to write. There’s no other way around it.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Six words on love and heartbreak
Do you know about the book,, Not Quite What I was Planning: Six Word Memoirs from Writers Famous and Obscure? (My co-host Marrie Stone, interviewed the editor on the show a few weeks back.)
Well, they're looking for submissions for a new collection due out on Valentine's Day. Here's the link if you'd like to submit your six-word memoir.
Well, they're looking for submissions for a new collection due out on Valentine's Day. Here's the link if you'd like to submit your six-word memoir.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Lauren Weisberger doesn't wear Prada
Here's a photo from our evening at the Newport Beach Public Library. Lauren Weisberger, seated beside me, came to talk about her new book, Chasing Harry Winston, and of course we talked about her first book, The Devil Wears Prada.
I met Lauren in the conference room with her media escort and her husband Mike. She wasn't wearing Prada, not that I thought she would be, but somehow I thought if you wrote a book about something that happened to you while you worked at the biggest fashion magazine, that you would be into fashion.
So I spent more time than I should have concerned with what to wear. Should I wear my best white pantsuit that I bought at Nordstrom last year? I almost emailed Lauren to ask what she was going to wear, so we would sort of match, but didn't. I decided to dress the way I always dress for literary events, which is how I usually dress in general, only not as casual (no tee-shirts, no pull over cotton jerseys, no black workout pants, no faded jeans). I did bring along my knock-off Prada bag. It was meant to be a joke, but I don't think Lauren found it funny. (Later I decided she was burnt out on Prada jokes and people thinking she was into Prada.) I bought it a few years ago at a flea market in Pennsylvania because I loved the lime green color and size. The Prada logo put me off, though.
I don't want to buy a knock-off, I told my cousin John.
So Sharpie in the logo, he said.
That's tacky, I said, buying the bag but leaving the Prada logo alone. When I carry it, I turn the logo side toward my leg so the logo doesn't show.
I was happily surprised Lauren was dressed casually in white jeans and sandals. She likes to buy jeans, perhaps more than she should (says she). Her diamond wedding band caught the light as big diamonds will. I loved the ring.
In the conference room she said she thought we should only talk a little and use the time for questions. She said she hated the media. I commiserated. So many radio and TV people are only interested in sound bites, I said. I told her I thought we'd talk for 30 minutes or so and then take questions. She thought that was too long. I said it would be okay. She said she liked questions. I said it would be fine. I worried, though, that she seemed nervous.
But it was fine. It was actually great fun. Lauren seemed to genuinely have a great time, too.
Before an audience of 230, Lauren and I talked about her books, but we also talked a great deal about writing. One tidbit I took away (that a lot of us took away) is that Lauren is distracted just like the rest of us, with email. Even a speck of dust can seem fascinating. And yet the girl is extremely productive. I found that inspiring, that she's distracted often and is so productive anyway.
In the photo, you'll see Lauren and me seated, and behind us are Lauren's new husband Mike, NBPL Executive Director Tracy Keys, and Event Coordinator Janis Dinwiddie, with Dinwiddie Events. Kudos to Tracy and Janis--the library has been bringing in solid authors and helping to quench the Orange County thirst for literary events. Yay, Tracy and Janis!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Noir on tomorrow's show
If you're on my e-list for the radio show, you've received this. If not....
Tomorrow, Weds. June 11, for the entire hour, we'll have three authors--Naomi Hirahara, Gary Phillips, and Susan Straight--talking about noir. I'm excited!
Naomi is the author of the Mas Arai mystery novels and the noir short story: "Number 19." Gary is the author of the Ivan Monk and Martha Chainey series, and a lot of short stories including the noir story "Roger Crumbler Considered His Shave." Susan is a novelist ("Highwire Moon" was a National Book Award nominee), and the noir short story: "The Golden Gopher," which won an Edgar. All three of the stories highlighted above are in the collection: "los angeles noir," published by Akashic Books.
Tune in at 9 a.m. Pacific at 88.9 FM KUCI or listen on iTunes. Eventually the show will be podcast and you can find it (and many other podcasts) here.
Tomorrow, Weds. June 11, for the entire hour, we'll have three authors--Naomi Hirahara, Gary Phillips, and Susan Straight--talking about noir. I'm excited!
Naomi is the author of the Mas Arai mystery novels and the noir short story: "Number 19." Gary is the author of the Ivan Monk and Martha Chainey series, and a lot of short stories including the noir story "Roger Crumbler Considered His Shave." Susan is a novelist ("Highwire Moon" was a National Book Award nominee), and the noir short story: "The Golden Gopher," which won an Edgar. All three of the stories highlighted above are in the collection: "los angeles noir," published by Akashic Books.
Tune in at 9 a.m. Pacific at 88.9 FM KUCI or listen on iTunes. Eventually the show will be podcast and you can find it (and many other podcasts) here.
Monday, June 09, 2008
Monday, June 02, 2008
Alice Munro's Free Radicals
When I'm skimming through the New Yorker or Tin House or any number of other journals with formidable-to-crazy good short fiction, I maybe read the first line and if it doesn't grab me, I go on to the next. Life's too short for a short story--or essay or novel--that doesn't sing.
This morning I roamed the New Yorker web site looking for a short story for my Gotham class and I found this one by Alice Munro. I could not stop reading.
She knocked my socks off with "A Bear Comes Over the Moutain," that was made into the movie, Away From Her. Incredible artistry. But I don't want to influence you. Read it. Tell me what you think.
This morning I roamed the New Yorker web site looking for a short story for my Gotham class and I found this one by Alice Munro. I could not stop reading.
She knocked my socks off with "A Bear Comes Over the Moutain," that was made into the movie, Away From Her. Incredible artistry. But I don't want to influence you. Read it. Tell me what you think.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Point of view
A couple of Pen on Fire blog readers have questions about point of view.
Bibliophile says:
And Christina says:
Well ... that's a lot to chew on.
I'll just give my thoughts and if others reading this blog have thoughts/opinions, please feel free to let them fly. I'm not the last word on this subject.
I don't think there are any fast rules on point of view. As soon as an author or writing teacher says, "This is the way!" someone comes along to break it. In my humble opinion, you do what works for the story you're writing.
I do think when you're writing a short story, using more than one point of view can get to be too much. It's so such a short form!
But with novels, like so very much in life and writing, it just depends. If you use more then one point of view, you've got to have a reason. Often the reason writers do this is that they wanted to get at various aspects of story and they just couldn't do that using one point of view character.
Usually you wait to change point of view characters with a new chapter. Although Ann Patchett did not do this in Bel Canto and it worked quite wonderfully. In Atonement, the novel is written in the third person until you get to the end, and then it goes into first person. Worked for me!
If you're writing a first novel, it probably makes sense to stick with one point of view, because you're getting to know the form, and why complicate things for yourself?
These are just my initial thoughts. I'll keep pondering. Meanwhile, if anyone has anything to add, please do!
Bibliophile says:
Hi B, I've been writing different parts of the same story in many different points of view. I've got at least 5 main characters, all speaking in first person. I then spent a week revising everything to omniscient... spent another week reading every chapter on POV in my collection of writing aid books. I had an idea to make one character in to the 'listener,' the one collecting all these stories from the other characters, but thought that might seem amateur-ish. Any advice?
And Christina says:
I finished reading a novel by one of my favorite authors. This particular novel has three main characters. For two, she uses first person; but for the other character, she uses third. It didn't confuse me as a reader, but as an aspiring writer; I feel like I need to know why this was done. I couldn't find the significance of using a different POV for this character - besides the point that the character was dealing with a lot of pain and in the end, she ended up killing her mother.
What do you think about using different POV's in your novel? Is there some type of rule out there that this author broke? As I said, this character was fighting through a LOT. Do you think the author switched the POV on her readers because it was easier to tell the story from a third person POV; rather than take us through the characters inner toil from her POV? Or perhaps when dealing with customer going through a lot mentally, it is better to use a third person POV?
I'm not trying to attack the writer; there's so much I need to learn about writing fiction - so when I see something I've never seen before, I just have to ask!
Well ... that's a lot to chew on.
I'll just give my thoughts and if others reading this blog have thoughts/opinions, please feel free to let them fly. I'm not the last word on this subject.
I don't think there are any fast rules on point of view. As soon as an author or writing teacher says, "This is the way!" someone comes along to break it. In my humble opinion, you do what works for the story you're writing.
I do think when you're writing a short story, using more than one point of view can get to be too much. It's so such a short form!
But with novels, like so very much in life and writing, it just depends. If you use more then one point of view, you've got to have a reason. Often the reason writers do this is that they wanted to get at various aspects of story and they just couldn't do that using one point of view character.
Usually you wait to change point of view characters with a new chapter. Although Ann Patchett did not do this in Bel Canto and it worked quite wonderfully. In Atonement, the novel is written in the third person until you get to the end, and then it goes into first person. Worked for me!
If you're writing a first novel, it probably makes sense to stick with one point of view, because you're getting to know the form, and why complicate things for yourself?
These are just my initial thoughts. I'll keep pondering. Meanwhile, if anyone has anything to add, please do!
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Events
Finally, I'm posting a slew of events coming up. I hope you can make it to one!
June 10 7:00 p.m., Newport Beach Public Library
In conversation with Lauren Weisberger about her about her new book, Chasing Harry Winston. (Lauren's first book was The Devil Wears Prada.)
July 12 A fun all-day workshop at UC-Irvine Extention: Jumpstart Your Writing. Call UC-Irvine at 949/824-5414 or visit the UCI Web site.
July 13 1:00 p.m., Barnes & Noble, Newport Center, Newport Beach
Talk about essay writing and her essay, "Knitting: My Urban Escape," included in the anthology, Knitting Through It: Inspiring Stories for Troubled Times (Voyageur Press).
September 28 West Hollywood Book Fair
If you haven't attended the fair, don't miss out. It's a great people-watching day with great panels. I will moderate a panel of literary agents in the afternoon. Click here for more information.
October 11 Celebration of California Writers Week
Join me and other authors for a literary day at the Orange Public Library and History Center in Orange, CA. More information can be found here.
June 10 7:00 p.m., Newport Beach Public Library
In conversation with Lauren Weisberger about her about her new book, Chasing Harry Winston. (Lauren's first book was The Devil Wears Prada.)
July 12 A fun all-day workshop at UC-Irvine Extention: Jumpstart Your Writing. Call UC-Irvine at 949/824-5414 or visit the UCI Web site.
July 13 1:00 p.m., Barnes & Noble, Newport Center, Newport Beach
Talk about essay writing and her essay, "Knitting: My Urban Escape," included in the anthology, Knitting Through It: Inspiring Stories for Troubled Times (Voyageur Press).
September 28 West Hollywood Book Fair
If you haven't attended the fair, don't miss out. It's a great people-watching day with great panels. I will moderate a panel of literary agents in the afternoon. Click here for more information.
October 11 Celebration of California Writers Week
Join me and other authors for a literary day at the Orange Public Library and History Center in Orange, CA. More information can be found here.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Judging a book by its cover
Do you?
I often do judge a book by its cover. So many books are flung onto the porch every week for the show. On the way to the kitchen, I open the (usually) padded envelope and look at the cover of the book. I don't much care whether it's hard cover or paperback, but I like a nice texture and color. If it's teal, turquoise, aqua, or sky blue, so much the better. I've been known to keep these, and make beautiful colored stacks, or organize by color. The author's photo either compels me or doesn't. If the author looks bratty, or arrogant, the book goes in the reject pile. Not that the author has to look friendly, either. He or she just has to look ... interesting and approachable. I can't think of any author worth spending time on the phone with if they're not nice or fun or glad to be there.
Apparently, a lot of people judge books by their covers. Others judge books by their covers, too.
Do you?
I often do judge a book by its cover. So many books are flung onto the porch every week for the show. On the way to the kitchen, I open the (usually) padded envelope and look at the cover of the book. I don't much care whether it's hard cover or paperback, but I like a nice texture and color. If it's teal, turquoise, aqua, or sky blue, so much the better. I've been known to keep these, and make beautiful colored stacks, or organize by color. The author's photo either compels me or doesn't. If the author looks bratty, or arrogant, the book goes in the reject pile. Not that the author has to look friendly, either. He or she just has to look ... interesting and approachable. I can't think of any author worth spending time on the phone with if they're not nice or fun or glad to be there.
Apparently, a lot of people judge books by their covers. Others judge books by their covers, too.
Do you?
Friday, May 16, 2008
Things to do instead of write
Watch this stop-motion video ... quite mind-boggling.
And look at these little constructions....
And this will get you back to writing....
Actually, that wild stop-motion video made me want to work on my novel. Inspiring! All that art at work.
And look at these little constructions....
And this will get you back to writing....
Actually, that wild stop-motion video made me want to work on my novel. Inspiring! All that art at work.
Monday, May 12, 2008
A bit of log rolling
I love it when nice letters like this one come in:
Hi Barbara!
Just wanted to drop you a short note of thanks!
Earlier today I e-mailed/queried literary agent Bill Contardi. I reached out to him because of your podcast/interview with him in September, 2006. He got back to me immediately! I've included my e-mail to him and his response.
I don't know if he'll eventually take me on, but because of your show a reputable literary agent is willing to give my work a look.
I cannot thank you enough for your show!
Take care,
Ron Alvarez
...
If you haven't already, go my show blog and give a listen.
Hi Barbara!
Just wanted to drop you a short note of thanks!
Earlier today I e-mailed/queried literary agent Bill Contardi. I reached out to him because of your podcast/interview with him in September, 2006. He got back to me immediately! I've included my e-mail to him and his response.
I don't know if he'll eventually take me on, but because of your show a reputable literary agent is willing to give my work a look.
I cannot thank you enough for your show!
Take care,
Ron Alvarez
...
If you haven't already, go my show blog and give a listen.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Critiques: What to keep, what to leave
A former student from one of my online classes asks:
"How do you know what critiques you should use and which ones you should not? I brought in and read some of my work to my writers' group this past weekend and received some feedback. I liked some of their comments but disagreed with others. So I wanted to get your thoughts as to how you should handle feedback."
I generally look for consensus. If a few people are saying the same thing, I pay more attention than if comments are various and random. That's not to say that I don't pay attention to the various random comments, because I do. I seem to pay attention to everything everyone says. Which is not necessarily a good thing.
But consensus speaks loudest of all because if a few people are saying the same thing, then it must be true (I reason).
I also pay more attention to comments coming from someone who writes and reads in my genre.
What I don't pay attention to are comments that sound personal and have more to do with the person offering their opinion than they have to do with the work.
And if there is even one lousy person in a group, it can ruin the entire group for me.
Once, in a group long ago, a member said (of my interracial novel at the time): Well, I don't like black people so I don't have anything to say.
I left that group fast. Ugh!
I also pay attention to comments that resonate. Sometimes someone will say something and immediately I'll say or think, Yes! You're right!
Maybe it's something I sneaked in, wondering if anyone would notice, vowing if they did, I would remove it. Or maybe I was lazy, or maybe it was a darling. Wasn't it Mark Twain who said, "Murder all your darlings"? You know, sometimes we're so in love with something we've written that really doesn't fit in the work, but we leave it in because we're in love with it. Praise those workshop members who find those sentences.
If anyone has more to say about critiques and what to pay attention to, please, have at it. I'd love to hear and I'm sure my former student does, too.
"How do you know what critiques you should use and which ones you should not? I brought in and read some of my work to my writers' group this past weekend and received some feedback. I liked some of their comments but disagreed with others. So I wanted to get your thoughts as to how you should handle feedback."
I generally look for consensus. If a few people are saying the same thing, I pay more attention than if comments are various and random. That's not to say that I don't pay attention to the various random comments, because I do. I seem to pay attention to everything everyone says. Which is not necessarily a good thing.
But consensus speaks loudest of all because if a few people are saying the same thing, then it must be true (I reason).
I also pay more attention to comments coming from someone who writes and reads in my genre.
What I don't pay attention to are comments that sound personal and have more to do with the person offering their opinion than they have to do with the work.
And if there is even one lousy person in a group, it can ruin the entire group for me.
Once, in a group long ago, a member said (of my interracial novel at the time): Well, I don't like black people so I don't have anything to say.
I left that group fast. Ugh!
I also pay attention to comments that resonate. Sometimes someone will say something and immediately I'll say or think, Yes! You're right!
Maybe it's something I sneaked in, wondering if anyone would notice, vowing if they did, I would remove it. Or maybe I was lazy, or maybe it was a darling. Wasn't it Mark Twain who said, "Murder all your darlings"? You know, sometimes we're so in love with something we've written that really doesn't fit in the work, but we leave it in because we're in love with it. Praise those workshop members who find those sentences.
If anyone has more to say about critiques and what to pay attention to, please, have at it. I'd love to hear and I'm sure my former student does, too.
Friday, May 02, 2008
James Frey in Vanity Fair
Don't start reading this instead of writing. Save it as a reward for writing. A good story in June's Vanity Fair.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Back at it
Okay, so we've been spending time getting the studio behind the house together and it's finally become a place where it's quiet and I can work (although new neighbors just moved in upstairs, single guys who work as bartenders, so who knows!).
Yesterday, I pulled out Starletta, with ideas about how to revamp, including changing the title--any ideas? I want to remove "Kitchen" from the title, in part, because it's not a restaurant book. She's a food writer and also because I don't want guys to shy away from the book as some do from Pen on Fire because of the subtitle, which wasn't my idea in the first place, but there you go.
So in the studio, yesterday, I found I wanted to sit here and spread out my stuff. And I did. I worked. And it was good. (I just need to finish getting the courtyard together ... deliver things to Goodwill....)
The long and the short of it is, place is very important. And you gotta like the place in which you're working to do good work. Or else you'll think of any reason to do something else--anything else.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Know your audience
The other thing is audience.
It can help to know who writing your writing for. Pen on Fire began with an audience of one. My student Robin. A lot of you know this story. She would become inspired in class but at home her motivation to write fizzled. She jokingly said, If you came home with me, I know I could write.
I said, I'll write a book for you.
Pen on Fire started with my audience of Robin. Soon it spread to include all of my students and others.
Who are you writing for? It could be yourself. But it has to be someone.
It can help to know who writing your writing for. Pen on Fire began with an audience of one. My student Robin. A lot of you know this story. She would become inspired in class but at home her motivation to write fizzled. She jokingly said, If you came home with me, I know I could write.
I said, I'll write a book for you.
Pen on Fire started with my audience of Robin. Soon it spread to include all of my students and others.
Who are you writing for? It could be yourself. But it has to be someone.
Writing is the cure
A friend posed a dilemma about writing and here is what I said to her (which she said was fine to post here, for others to hopefully benefit from):
There does come a point when you (a writer, any writer) finds themselves at the point you find yourself at. Is it worth it? Is the self-disclosure worth raking through the muck of the past and putting it on paper, making art out of it? Is art worth it? Is it productive? Isn't cleaning a closet more productive?
What I didn't say last night, which I ought to have said, and if it's okay with you, I'll post this on my blog so I can say it! is, if there's something else you enjoy more than writing, then maybe you *should* give it up.
In my view, you're a writer. Sure you like other things, too, but you like writing and gain something from doing it. But that may just be my view.
I have considered over the years, at different points, giving it up. But when I ask myself, does anything do more for you, the answer has always been no. I love to knit, I love handicrafts. I studied music for a few years and played the flute. I was involved in the performing arts, and photography. But I always felt--and still do--that something was missing without working on a piece of writing.
Writing is the hardest thing I've ever done. Sure, brain surgery would be harder, but then again, I don't want to be a brain surgeon. And my guess is that for some brain surgeons, writing would be damn hard.
No one can tell you that you should be writing. No amount of strokes or encouragement can make you write every day if you simply don't want to.
But my guess is that if you write a bit every day, you'll want to. You'll work a groove in the brain and in your creative self that will draw you back to your pen and paper, or computer, most days. So much of writing is very much a habit. Like any habit, if you fall away from it, you might think, whatever made me think I liked that habit?
Anyway, only you know what writing does for you, and doesn't do for you. I do know that I've seen your excitement when you were working on a piece that excited you.
I know your friend discouraged you by telling you one of your pieces wasn't in your voice. Voice can take a long time to get to. It takes throwing a lot of words at the page. It truly does. You try out different styles, different tones, different ways of using words, and in this way, voice comes.
Writers need to stop thinking so much--about how we're no good, how we're frauds, how we'll never write anything of substance--and just write. Writing is the cure.
There does come a point when you (a writer, any writer) finds themselves at the point you find yourself at. Is it worth it? Is the self-disclosure worth raking through the muck of the past and putting it on paper, making art out of it? Is art worth it? Is it productive? Isn't cleaning a closet more productive?
What I didn't say last night, which I ought to have said, and if it's okay with you, I'll post this on my blog so I can say it! is, if there's something else you enjoy more than writing, then maybe you *should* give it up.
In my view, you're a writer. Sure you like other things, too, but you like writing and gain something from doing it. But that may just be my view.
I have considered over the years, at different points, giving it up. But when I ask myself, does anything do more for you, the answer has always been no. I love to knit, I love handicrafts. I studied music for a few years and played the flute. I was involved in the performing arts, and photography. But I always felt--and still do--that something was missing without working on a piece of writing.
Writing is the hardest thing I've ever done. Sure, brain surgery would be harder, but then again, I don't want to be a brain surgeon. And my guess is that for some brain surgeons, writing would be damn hard.
No one can tell you that you should be writing. No amount of strokes or encouragement can make you write every day if you simply don't want to.
But my guess is that if you write a bit every day, you'll want to. You'll work a groove in the brain and in your creative self that will draw you back to your pen and paper, or computer, most days. So much of writing is very much a habit. Like any habit, if you fall away from it, you might think, whatever made me think I liked that habit?
Anyway, only you know what writing does for you, and doesn't do for you. I do know that I've seen your excitement when you were working on a piece that excited you.
I know your friend discouraged you by telling you one of your pieces wasn't in your voice. Voice can take a long time to get to. It takes throwing a lot of words at the page. It truly does. You try out different styles, different tones, different ways of using words, and in this way, voice comes.
Writers need to stop thinking so much--about how we're no good, how we're frauds, how we'll never write anything of substance--and just write. Writing is the cure.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Publishing: Where do we go from here
That's the title of my panel on Sunday and I am greatly looking forward to it. My panelists will be Johnny Temple, publisher of Akashic Books; Susan Weinberg, publisher of Public Affairs Books; James Atlas, publisher of Atlas & Co.; and George Gibson, publisher of Walker & Co.
I am so looking forward to this panel. Saturday, 2:30, Young Hall on the UCLA campus.
.....
And to those who have been asking, illness has passed and I'm back at it, so thanks for asking! And I hope to see you Saturday.
I am so looking forward to this panel. Saturday, 2:30, Young Hall on the UCLA campus.
.....
And to those who have been asking, illness has passed and I'm back at it, so thanks for asking! And I hope to see you Saturday.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Los Angeles Times Festival of Books
Okay, is everyone going to be there? If you've never been, it's a fabulous book festival with a ton of great panels for writers (and readers). Here's the web site. If you're around Young Hall at 2:30 p.m., say hi. My panel on publishing takes place then.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
D.T. Max on Don DeLillo
I'm going through a pile of New Yorkers that my librarian, Haidee, gave me, and right now I'm in the June 18, 2007, issue. I'm reading a long feature about literary archives by D.T. Max. I just wrote to him for permission to reprint the following long paragraph, which I love, about the literary life:
DeLillo’s letters are often about business—negotiations over contracts, responses to translators—but a few of them provide insight into his austere approach to the literary life. One, in particular, is the kind of note that biographers long to stumble across. In October, 1995, David Foster Wallace wrote to him, “Because I tend both to think I’m uniquely afflicted and to idealize people I admire, I tend to imagine you never having had to struggle with any of this narcissism or indulgence stuff. . . . Maybe I want a pep-talk, because I have to tell you I don’t enjoy this war one bit.” DeLillo responded in November. “I was a semiconscious writer in the beginning,” he writes. “Just sat and wrote something, or read the newspaper, or went to the movies. Over time I began to understand, one, that I was lucky to be doing this work, and, two, that the only way I’d get better at it was to be more serious, to understand the rigors of novel-writing and to make it central to my life, not a variation on some related career choice, like sportswriting or playwriting. The novel is different. . . . We die indoors, and alone, and I don’t mean to sound overdramatic but you know what I’m talking about. Anyway, all of this happened over time, until eventually discipline no longer seemed something outside me that urged the reluctant body into the room. At this point discipline is inseparable from what I do. It’s not even definable as discipline. It has no name. I never think about it. But there’s no trick of meditation or self-mastery that brought it about. I got older, that’s all. I was not a born novelist (if anyone is). I had to grow into novelhood.”
DeLillo’s letters are often about business—negotiations over contracts, responses to translators—but a few of them provide insight into his austere approach to the literary life. One, in particular, is the kind of note that biographers long to stumble across. In October, 1995, David Foster Wallace wrote to him, “Because I tend both to think I’m uniquely afflicted and to idealize people I admire, I tend to imagine you never having had to struggle with any of this narcissism or indulgence stuff. . . . Maybe I want a pep-talk, because I have to tell you I don’t enjoy this war one bit.” DeLillo responded in November. “I was a semiconscious writer in the beginning,” he writes. “Just sat and wrote something, or read the newspaper, or went to the movies. Over time I began to understand, one, that I was lucky to be doing this work, and, two, that the only way I’d get better at it was to be more serious, to understand the rigors of novel-writing and to make it central to my life, not a variation on some related career choice, like sportswriting or playwriting. The novel is different. . . . We die indoors, and alone, and I don’t mean to sound overdramatic but you know what I’m talking about. Anyway, all of this happened over time, until eventually discipline no longer seemed something outside me that urged the reluctant body into the room. At this point discipline is inseparable from what I do. It’s not even definable as discipline. It has no name. I never think about it. But there’s no trick of meditation or self-mastery that brought it about. I got older, that’s all. I was not a born novelist (if anyone is). I had to grow into novelhood.”
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Keeping the dark room dark
I've been in bed for days, sick with something or other, but I'm starting to see the light. Which is when I came across this dark page, a little treat, perhaps, for you...
And if you haven't used up enough time playing, here's another fun way to spend a few minutes, created by a fellow ASJA member who is indeed selling big jugs.
And if you haven't used up enough time playing, here's another fun way to spend a few minutes, created by a fellow ASJA member who is indeed selling big jugs.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Ayelet Waldman & Michael Chabon
A fun interview at coolsville Readerville.
Scan down for the piece about Maira Kalman's latest book, which I also love.
Scan down for the piece about Maira Kalman's latest book, which I also love.
What an agent said to Charles Baxter
Did you read the piece on Baxter in Ploughshares that I posted yesterday? Oh, read it! This is from the piece. So outrageous.
Don Lee writes:
He [Charles] turned to fiction and churned out three novels, but they were disasters. “They were very abstract, these novels, very schematic, in some sense like bad postmodernism,” he says. “Nothing in them felt particularly real, although I didn’t realize that at the time. You rarely do when you’re working. I thought they were great. I was utterly baffled by the indifference or loathing with which people read them.”
One agent was particularly cruel. “I called her and said, ‘Julie, what do you think of my novel?’ And she said, ‘I hate it.’ And then she said, ‘Tell me why I hate it.’ And I said, ‘Julie, I don’t know why you hate my novel.’ She said, ‘Oh, you must, you wrote it. Tell me why I hate it. Is it the characters? Is it the setting? I just don’t understand any of it. Help me out here. Why do I hate your novel?’ It was an amazing phone call. And I kept having experiences like that. This person I knew on the West Coast read one of my novels and said, ‘Well, maybe your imagination’s poisoned right at the source.’ ”
Don Lee writes:
He [Charles] turned to fiction and churned out three novels, but they were disasters. “They were very abstract, these novels, very schematic, in some sense like bad postmodernism,” he says. “Nothing in them felt particularly real, although I didn’t realize that at the time. You rarely do when you’re working. I thought they were great. I was utterly baffled by the indifference or loathing with which people read them.”
One agent was particularly cruel. “I called her and said, ‘Julie, what do you think of my novel?’ And she said, ‘I hate it.’ And then she said, ‘Tell me why I hate it.’ And I said, ‘Julie, I don’t know why you hate my novel.’ She said, ‘Oh, you must, you wrote it. Tell me why I hate it. Is it the characters? Is it the setting? I just don’t understand any of it. Help me out here. Why do I hate your novel?’ It was an amazing phone call. And I kept having experiences like that. This person I knew on the West Coast read one of my novels and said, ‘Well, maybe your imagination’s poisoned right at the source.’ ”
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Charles Baxter
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Making a Literary Life
I have to thank the universe for Carolyn See. Aside from being a terrific writer, she's a wonderful person, one of the most generous of all writers.
She's been on my show a few times, and last night she spent an hour on the phone with my class of 12, and me.
If you haven't already, read her chapter on magic in Making a Literary Life. The concepts she talks about have been around for a while, and most recently made popular by The Secret.
Her chapter, though, is for writers (and other dreamers). Read it. Read the entire book, actually, more than once. There is so much wisdom and love and fun in this book.
She's been on my show a few times, and last night she spent an hour on the phone with my class of 12, and me.
If you haven't already, read her chapter on magic in Making a Literary Life. The concepts she talks about have been around for a while, and most recently made popular by The Secret.
Her chapter, though, is for writers (and other dreamers). Read it. Read the entire book, actually, more than once. There is so much wisdom and love and fun in this book.
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