pjthompson: (Default)
Random quote of the day:


"I think it can be tremendously refreshing if a creator of literature has something on his mind other than the history of literature so far. Literature should not disappear up its own asshole, so to speak."

—Kurt Vonnegut, interview, The Paris Review, Issue 69, Spring 1977



This is a great interview, which you can read here. Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] lilithsaintcrow for pointing her blog readers to it in The Hack Manifesto.




Illustrated version. )




Disclaimer: The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.
pjthompson: (Default)
Every time I try to write literary fiction, I think of that old Barbra Streisand movie, The Owl and the Pussycat, from back in her still-Brooklyn phase when she was less Important and still hilarious.

I don't know if the movie holds up any more because I saw it a lifetime ago, but one of the characters is an unpublished writer named Felix (played by George Segal) who has been writing the same novel for years, never trying anything else because he's struggling to "make it right." I'm not saying literary writers are all like this, but Felix is Very Serious About His Art, and feels Very Misunderstood. Thinking of Felix helps me avoid certain pitfalls of the writing life—and frankly, to be proud that I'm a genre whore.

In the movie, after much cajoling, Felix finally agrees to read his masterpiece to Streisand's character, Doris, an actress and occasional prostitute. He never gets beyond the opening line, to much hilarity all the way around. Her acting out of that opening line for him so he can visualize the metaphor, and his reaction to it, has stayed with me since forever.

It's all about living inside your head, taking yourself too seriously, lacking perspective. The movie is also about accepting yourself for who you really are and not being ashamed of that, which is a good thing. But there's a subtext that also makes me cringe and has also stayed with me since forever: "If you've tried to live out your dream and it goes nowhere, give up."

I think about that one a lot, too, and to this day I'm not sure if it's ever right to give up on your dreams. You may be that geriatric dreamer out there still plugging away, but as long as you're still trying, you're still living. You may never get the golden ring, you may not wind up on the top of the heap, or even stuck in the middle or squashed on the bottom. You may have to modify your dreams, "modestify" them into some form you can live with, but giving them up entirely seems a bit like saying, "That part of my soul looks a little tawdry. I think I'll cut it out and throw it away. No one will notice I've patched it with naugahyde."

Live your dreams. They are who you truly are.
pjthompson: (Default)
I was listening to a literary lady talk this morning on NPR about Maureen McHugh's latest collection of stories. She said something to the effect of, "It's really too bad you find her writing in the science fiction and fantasy section of book stores. Her stories may start out in the fantastic but they're so well-written you don't even think about it after awhile."

ETA: Here's the exact quote, courtesy jaylake: "The thing about Maureen McHugh is you're going to find her shelved in the science fiction and fantasy section. And that's unfortunate."

I make no claim whatsoever to being a literary writer. I want to tell cranking good yarns that make people turn the pages--and yes, if there's some thought-provoking going on, if I attempt to write as well as I can and be as true to the realities of human nature within my fantastic boundaries, insert a little mythopoetic dynamic here and there, that's just swell. That's all about my pride in doing the best job I can, striving to always do better. In my quirky, fantastic kind of way. Too bad I will never be a serious writer if I keep writing the fantastic.

I'd suggest forming a Fantasists Anti-Defamation League, but I'm not serious enough to carry something like that off. Gosh, wouldn't that take rather a lot of commitment?

Quote of the day:

"Discipline and desire make a writer, a mantra I have to repeat to myself several times a week."

—Charlaine Harris
(a non-serious fantasy writer)

Writing thought of the day:

It occurs to me that if I could fix the problems with the novels I've started in my Ideas file, I could crank out a novel a year for many years without ever getting a new idea again. Phew, what a relief. I was seriously worried about my lack of ideas. In a non-serious way.

The Locals

Dec. 6th, 2004 10:12 am
pjthompson: (Default)
Ah, this is serious.  I've started serializing my new novel to my local readers. Reactions to chapter one have been very positive.  This must mean Night Warrior really is a go. 

None of my locals are writers, which is a cool thing.  I get straight reader reaction from them.  And even if they are my friends, they usually tell me when they think things have gone wrong—quite forcefully at times.  They take this beta reading thing seriously, and their help has been invaluable to me.  I'm lucky to have three such intelligent and engaged readers to filter my first drafts through.  (And none of them read this blog, so that piece of suck up is just because.)

I guess I'll start posting chapters to the 'shop soon.  I want to build up a bit more steam first.  Also, my historical research is ongoing and I'm always reluctant to put the work seriously out there unless I've got the milieu down.  For one thing, all those niggling details are what make a historical setting feel real and I find that if I saturate myself with the details of the past, it's richer, more real to the reader.  Still, I feel like the emotional substratum and the plot of this novel are pretty solid and once I've internalized those two things, integrated them into my psyche, it's almost impossible not to start writing.  I reach a critical mass inside my brain and it must be written down.  Even if the research lags behind.

I also want to get some more crits finished before running this thing through the 'shop.  Most of the crits I'm doing these days are offline—that's how far behind I was.  But it's been a good opportunity to get a little closer to equity.  When I was pumping out a new chapter of Shivery Bones every two weeks, I built up a lot of debt because most of my regulars were not posting as fast as I was.  God Bless you everyone, if you're listening.  I appreciate all your help.

I find it fascinating how different the reactions can be between my non-writer friends and my writer friends.  After the locals have their say, I usually post to my workshop.  Sometimes chapters the locals loved get torn to shreds on the 'shop.  Sometimes just the opposite.  Both sets of input are valuable.  One gives me a "non-technical" reaction, the emotional response; the other helps me with the hard work of turning the writing into a serious piece of craft.  But it's still fascinating when the two camps disagree.

I'm sure there's a profound lesson there somewhere, but I can't quite see it at the moment.  I don't know what it means, if it simply means that different sets of readers have different requirements for fiction.  I suppose it could be tangential to the fanfic discussion that's heating up LJ these days: readers have different needs from writers and editors.  But I wonder if that's true?  All writers and editors start out as readers, after all. 

In terms of the fanfic discussion I can't say as I agree that slash is the wave of the future.  But I do agree that most literary fiction reads like a plotless ramble, while most genre fiction lacks emotional resonance.  Finding books that have both bright, shiny sentences, enthralling plots, and a clear understanding of the way real humans feel things is sometimes tough.  The writers who do it for me are Connie Willis, Kage Baker...There are others, but unfortunately my brain is refusing to work at the moment.  I'm sure I'm forgetting someone Really Obvious.
pjthompson: (Default)
If you haven't already, and get a chance to, I recommend you read the Jeffrey Ford interview in the July 2004 issue of Locus. It'll be posted here:

http://www.locusmag.com/2004/Issues/07Ford.html

Shortly, according to the web site.

Jeffrey Ford is a particular favorite of mine, and what I particularly liked about this interview was how hauntingly familiar some of his process is. I'm light years away from being in Mr. Ford's class—quite possibly will never get there—but it's always a comfort when I can look at someone successful and recognize some, or a lot, of my crazy technique in their way of doing things. I guess it means I'm not totally crazy. Or if I am, there are other crazy people out there who've made a go of it.

Other than the egocentric stuff, I also liked what he had to say about genre vs. literary writing. "Works laboring under either of these artificial labels can be great or lousy. Basically, I don't have time for these arguments and I just have to pay attention to the work...."

I've always thought Jeffrey Ford was one of the more literary guys in the field, one of those pushing the boundaries out beyond the ghetto. He says, and I agree, that this is a liberating time for sff. The boundaries are being expanded. Or, at the very least, smudged so that it's difficult to tell where they lie. This is a good thing. This is a healthy thing.

He also makes the point that in the past, phenomenal experience and scientific projection were regarded as part of human experience, something to be included in serious works of literary art. Ask Mary Shelley, ask Shakespeare, Plato, Milton. Realism is a recent development in the history of writing. And I think, whether we are skeptics or believers, we can't deny that aspect of our humanity which exists in dreams, in the subconscious, in the phenomenal world of pure imagination. All of that messy and contradictory and emotional stuff makes us human. They're part of our animal natures, sure, filtered through the layers of our brain from the reptilian stem to the human-making frontal lobes, but they can't be separated out or denied. We may be technically advanced, but we're techno savages beneath our pinstripes—monkeys with gizmos.

SFF, and the best literary writers, recognize this, I think. We are more than the sum of our mechanistic parts and our gadgets.

Ford quotes his teacher, John Gardner, about writing being "a vivid and continuous dream." Ford goes on to say that unlike dreams, "with writing it's not something that ends in a few minutes; it carries on through the length of a story or book....you see the story in your head and then basically try to record what you see. You don't comment on it, and you almost fall into a trance. If you do it well, it allows you to get in touch with things that make the story work that you're not even conscious of." He tells his writing students that less control will get them in touch with what the story is really about.

Sure, I know so-called "organized" writers (vs. us messy organic types) will probably disagree. But...

Yeah, for people like me it's about haunting the boundaries of reason and pushing through the paper wall that separates us from...the other. That may be me talking, not Jeffrey Ford, but he definitely put me in the zone to think about this stuff.

Writing isn't a mechanical process—just like life isn't. Writing is an experience, a search after meaning, a way of trying to make sense out of things that may be contradictory or beyond our previous experience. It's a process of reconciling irreconcilable differences, of holding more than one truth inside your head at a time, of stretching beyond your level of understanding or emotional maturity. It's about taking risks and pushing the envelope, even if the envelope is only the one inside your own soul. Writing is standing on the edge of a precipice and not being afraid to see if you can fly. It's also about jumping and falling on your face. But hey, it wouldn't be any fun if there wasn't the risk of catastrophic failure, now would it?

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