Why Write About THEM?

Every now and then someone asks me, why do you write about people like that?

I ask,  people like what?

Well, these folks say, you seem like a pretty happy person, more or less, and you have a great marriage and you like where you live and you love your dog and you don’t worry about having enough to eat or your health, so why don’t you write about nice people?

Nice people? I ask (because although I know what they mean, I like to tease.)

Yes, I don’t like a lot of your characters, they’re too . . .

A Great Day At The Prison

Some days are just wonderful.  It’s My Best Beloved’s birthday, and it’s Bailey’s birthday (our dog, known asThe Rescuepoo), and the hot-off-the-presses copy of my new novel arrived in the mail, which just makes me giddy with grinning . . . . but. . . the most wonderful thing about today happened in a prison.

We Know Not What . . .

Sometimes people ask me why I write.  This is a good question, and one I’ll probably spend my life trying to answer.  I usually say it’s because when I’m writing I feel as though I’m doing what I am intended to do.  I say I write because I’m saner when I do than when I don’t.  That one usually gets a chortle, although people sometimes step off to a safer distance. Probably wise. Snort.

Charleston, home of the Bloomsbury Group. Part of my ideal ‘home’

Goodbye Goodreads, But It’s Not Me, It’s You

Amazon buys Goodreads: We're all just data now

Jeff Bezos, who owns Amazon, who owns Goodreads (among a bunch of other things) now.

Well, I just did it.  I hit the “delete my account” button on Goodreads.  I did this with much regret, because I’ve loved being a part of that community.

Since Amazon bought it, however, I just don’t feel I can stay. I did stay on the for past week or so, to let some of the people there know I’d be leaving.  Now, well, I’m gone.

The Solace Of Ousia (And Of Reading)

Every morning I spend a little time reading before I begin the real work of the day, which is writing. I choose the books I read in this time slot for inspirational value, either spiritual or psychological or artistic. This morning I finished The Summer of the Great-Grandmother, by Madeleine L’Engle, which is the second of the “Crosswicks Journal” series, was chosen for a mixture of the three, and it does not disappoint.

Madeleine L’Engle

If You Value Literature . . .

If you value books and the people who write them, I beg you to read this article from the NYTimes and then to alter your buying habits accordingly.

Sadly, we writers fear that if consumers don’t start a grassroots movement to support us, in another few years there may be no more decent books out there — consider what the article says has already happened in Russia: . . . in the country of Tolstoy and Chekhov, few Russians, let alone Westerners, can name a contemporary Russian author whose work regularly affects the national conversation. 

What We Talk About When We Talk About ‘Voice’

If you’re a writer or someone who loves literature, you probably read the title to this blog and understood immediately that I’m referencing Raymond Carver’s short story, “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love.”

How wonderful for a writer to be known simply by the syntax of a title, a single sentence, or a certain tone.

Learn to love the sound of your own voice!

Learn to love the sound of your own voice!

And that’s what we mean, when we talk about a writer’s voice.  It’s that instantly recognizable unique something, which might be copied or parodied, but can never be stolen.

Narrative Braid — The Teller And The Tale

The other day in the Sharpening the Quill Writers’ Workshop I lead every month, I talked about what’s known as the Universal Story in narrative — the common structure beneath all kinds of narrative.  It has a triune form (as do most fairy tales and religious imagery, but that’s something for another day) and consists of:

1.  a beginning with what is familiar/comfortable … and how the protagonist is separated from the familiar.

2.  a middle period of resistance and struggle

3.  and finally and ‘end’ containing a transformation and return.

"Story" is more spiral than line.

“Story” is more spiral than line.

Will I Write Again?

Perhaps it was Philip Roth’s announcement that he’s throwing in the pen that got me thinking about retiring from writing, but the thought has been skittering about in the darker corners of my mind over the past few weeks.  It could also be a merely my usual pre-publishing state of mind.  My Best Beloved assures me it is. (Although I have no recollection whatsoever of feeling this way just before my other books were published, when I say this he just chuckles.)

You Had Me At “Torture.”

On this snowy morning, rather than spend my time out frolicking with the Rescuepoo in the drifts (which I promise I’ll do in a few minutes, really, Dog… try and be patient!) I feel compelled to enter into the ridiculous fray surrounding  what may be the most unlikely literary pairing I’ve heard in a long time — Elizabeth Gilbert and Philip Roth.

There’s a WONDERFUL essay in the New Yorker by Avi Steinberg, concerning the dust up, which you really should read if you’re interested in writing and/or writers at all.  It is wise beyond it’s pages. I read it this morning and by, gosh, it got me thinking.