Do I really need a title on a Monday?

I spent part of my weekend listening to a bunch of Kazuo Ishiguro lectures on YouTube. The author discussed his book, Never Let Me Go, and a collection of his short stories called Nocturnes.

As I was doing this, a part of me was getting antsy to actually write instead of listening to another writer. (I'm working on Cyberlama!) At the same time, I continued to listen with the hope that I might gain some insight into how this author writes what he does.

In the end, I came to the conclusion that I often seem to come to after listening to other authors or reading about other authors. I didn't learn much at all, and yet I found it oddly satisfying.

So, I wonder: What do we get, if anything, out of listening to other writers? Do you read writer biographies or diaries or listen to writer lectures?

Some Books That Changed Things, 2010

First, this is not really a Friday Filler post, but then again, it's All About Me so maybe it is. Except it's not:

Happy Holidays to any of you who celebrate any holidays that might be happening right now! Was that non-specific yet heartfelt enough? Because really, it's been a hard year for a lot of folks and what I wish most for everyone's 2011 is peace and joy but, mostly, peace because it's so hard to come by. Peace on Earth, everyone.

But back to me: I was thinking about which of the books I read this year that have influenced the way I write. Not necessarily books that were my favorites, but books that have changed my relationship to my own fiction. There were not many of them, but there were a couple:




Women In Love, by D.H. Lawrence. A classic, depending on who you ask. This book is a bit clunky in the prose but Lawrence had a way of directing your attention to the uncomfortable but real emotions of his characters, of showing how people do the most unpredictable things in order to achieve happiness, even resorting to a kind of savagery, and how some people might get it right while most people get it wrong. There's a matter-of-factness in Lawrence's approach to character that I definitely see working its way into my own fiction.




Labyrinths, by Jorge Luis Borges. Borges wrote no novels, concentrating his efforts on short stories and essays. The stories are amazing and groundbreaking; Borges had an eclectic education and his influences include everything from Shakespeare to Poe to folktales to Cervantes to Einsteinian physics. The thing that I am getting from Borges is that you can push ideas really far and be vague about where you end up but that vagueness is good and valuable and mystery is an excellent addition to life, and therefore to story. Weird, that is, is good.




How Fiction Works, by James Wood. A non-fiction book about fiction. I read a lot of books about literary history and literary theory and narrative theory and all of that, but this book is not that sort of academic writing. This is a sort of old-fashioned primer on the art of fiction, focused on what makes the good books so good. Wood might try too hard to reduce things down to the ubiquity of "free indirect style" narration, but his delight in character and the poetry of language is infectious, and his arguments in favor of the artistic elements of writing make me want to try harder. There were no specific lessons for me in this book, but it certainly got me more excited about being a writer and that's nothing to sneeze at, kids.

The point of all of this is not to get you to read the books. The thing is, really, that what Davin, Michelle and I are doing here at the Literary Lab is less about lessons on writing (though we're all quite capable of beazling and prolixing for thousands of words about the bits and bobs of our craft) than it is about getting you excited to be fictionauts and showing you that the three of us try really hard to constantly improve our artsy craft and crafty art, and we hope that we have--in our own small way--inspired you to try harder, too.

Beggars that we are, we are even poor in thanks but I must thank you on behalf of Domey and Michelle for coming to our little corner of the interweb and having these chats with us. Because one thing we forget to say often enough is that you folks, with your willingness to engage us in this ongoing dialogue, inspire us to work hard and think deeply and aspire to brilliance. Because this matters, really it does. It matters to you, it matters to us and my hope is that by reinforcing each other's will to brilliance we can all raise our game, as the kids say, to the next level. And that would be really cool. Peace on Earth. Bigger and better. All of that. Thanks.

Skylight Books, Tara Maya, and I'm a grumpypants when I'm nervous

Happy Monday, everyone!

This weekend I attended a book release party for the Strange Cargo anthology at the great Skylight Books. I was one of the "lucky" ones that got to read their contribution to the anthology, which meant that I was mean and grumpy to all of my friends and family and co-workers all day Saturday and part of Sunday. Sorry. And, Marytza Rubio, if you read this, thanks for calming me down.

...imagine this place crammed with people and me being mean to all of them...

I also realized that I really suck at signing books. Not only did I have difficulty thinking of things to say, but I couldn't even decide what page to sign on or what name to use. Such is my identity during this transition period.

Oh, and thanks to the internet and my non-code name, my brother found out about the reading and showed up without telling me. Don't get me wrong, it was totally cool that he came to support me, but I get even more nervous when I know people in the audience. (For those of you who care, my brother's students often compliment him on how good he looks with his shirt off. And, for those of you who care, he doesn't teach history, and taking his shirt off during class isn't such an inappropriate thing.)

Double oh, someone else really cool showed up! Tara Maya--who I only recently found out lives in LA--was able to make it to the book store with her beautiful family. Tara, thanks so much for stopping by and talking to me! You're the first person I've met in person after first blog-meeting them. It was groovy. If you've got pictures, send one over to me, will you? I didn't tell this to you at the time, but you looked really familiar to me. I feel like we've met before, so maybe we have a mutual friend or something? Is it possible? Quick, list everyone you know. Then go finish your thesis.

Lady Glam, Mr. Bailey and I are busily sorting through the Notes From Underground contest entries. We'll be making the big announcement on Wednesday, the 15th (...wow, is it really Wednesday? We need to take care of this, you two). One thing I'm realizing right away is that my votes feel much more arbitrary than they did for Genre Wars. In other words, if you aren't chosen, it could be due so many factors out of your control.

I need my busker experience

Buskers are those musicians--singers, guitar players, the occasional violinist--playing in subways and street corners. For some entertainers, this is an opportunity to perfect performance skills and learn how to connect with an audience. After all, if you can get someone to stop and listen to you in the street, then you must be doing something right.

So, I've been wondering: As writers, do we get that similar kind of opportunity?

Now, more than ever, writers are told to get agents and not to self-publish. And, maybe, if we're talking about sheer numbers of books sold, that's the way to go. (Maybe.)

But, I wonder if this strategy separates us from the people we're actually trying to reach. Some of the most useful criticism I've gotten came from audience reactions when I read in public. Simply by the volume of their applause, by their silence, by their laughs, and by their tears, I came to pick up on what was working in my stories and what wasn't.

Michelle mentioned yesterday that I was down on my writing. I'm realizing that part of my depression comes from the fact that I feel too separated from the people I'm trying to entertain. I'm wondering if I need my busker experience.

Questions:

How would your writing be affected if you had to present your work directly to an audience with no middle person to help you? Would you learn faster? Would your writing evolve in a different direction that it has? Would that be a good thing?

Note added: Please check out Tricia's comment on this post. She makes my point better than I do!

How To Give A Public Reading

Yesterday Tricia J. O'Brien over at Talespinning mentioned an article on reading out loud. I also learned that some of our blog friends here are about to go on a writing retreat that includes a public reading. So, I wanted to give a few tips on the subject.

I've had the opportunity to study the art of public reading with voiceover artist David Thomas. I've also had the amazing opportunity to have one of my stories read out loud by actor Joshua Harto in WordTheatre in Los Angeles. Seeing how the pros interpret words on a page and perform them was extremely educational.

Before the reading

Practice a lot. Read your piece over and over several times so that you have it nearly memorized. Understand the landscape of the piece: slow down and speed up according to the story's dramatic points. Practice using highs and lows in your voice to emphasize key points, multiple characters, and so that you don't sound like a robot. You don't need to do anything fancy like using accents--in fact, a lot of people are annoyed by that.

Two tricks: a) practice reading with a wine cork clenched between your teeth. You'll sound horrible while you are doing it, but it works the weakest muscles of your mouth, and if you read immediately afterwards without the cork, you'll notice that you pronounce everything much more clearly. b) practice speed reading through your piece. Get through it as fast as you can, but make sure that you hit every word and every sound.

At the reading

1. Make sure you have the attention of the audience. You made need to wait a few seconds. You can even have a drink of water in front of them so that people know that you are preparing. Often, the opening of a passage contains key details that let the audience orient themselves, so it's important that everyone gets that information.

2. Go slowly. Go slower than you think you should, especially in the beginning. Every word in the first sentence should take plenty of time--it will seem too slow to you, but not to the audience. You can speed up later to fit the mood of your piece if you need to.

3. Use the landscape that you created during practice. Don't be afraid to emote. An audience will be more engaged if they realize that you are engaged yourself. And, keep in ming that audiences are on your side. They want to see you do well because they want to be entertained. No one wants to see a bad show.

4. Don't forget to make eye contact with the audience. Or, at the very least look out toward the audience. I usually pick out three places--one on the right side, one in the center, and one on the left--that I try to look out at regularly.

5. If you're given a time limit, stick to it. Better yet, stay under the limit by a few seconds or minutes. No one likes to be thrown off schedule.

Note: If you are using a microphone, try to practice on it ahead of time. Test to see where your mouth has to be relative to the microphone. Some require you to be close while others sound better if you are further away. Figure out where you are going to put your pages, or how you're going to hold them before you start reading. Don't let the pages cover your face or block the path of air from your mouth to the microphone/audience.

I've had the opportunity to do public readings at some book fairs, and I'm happy to say they have all gone well thanks to the advanced preparation I've done. A strong reading will get people interested in your book and make them want to read more.