Author Archives: Theryn

A certain number of miles that we needed to cover

When I was a kid, my parents were huge fans of The Road Trip. … In [my and my sister’s] view, there was nothing quite so boring as looking out the window of a speeding car, just to see a blur.  The worst part was that my father never took meandering trips anywhere, or trips filled with plentiful stops to do child-friendly activities in quaint local towns that my sister and I might find entertaining.  Oh no, there was a certain number of miles that we needed to cover each day, and by God, come hell or high water, Dad was going to make that number. “Look, kids!  Sea World!” he’d exclaim, as we sped by.  And then, when we’d get to our destination to spend a day or so, the main point of interest on our itinerary, the place where he’d want us to spend hours of our time, was usually somewhere like … Yale University.

—Karen Walrond

omg, hilarious! This had to be the quote of the day. We never went to Yale, mind you, but we did once go to the University of Saskatchewan. (To be fair, we also went to Sea World. 😉 But there were always miles to go before we slept…)

Something ineffable and mysterious

3. People will ask you what your work means and you will try to explain it to them, but you won’t really be able to explain it even if it sounds like you are saying something intelligent.

4. You should not be able to explain it. There should always be something ineffable and mysterious about it, even for you. If you’ve got all the answers, your work will not soar.

—Marisa Silver

The book I had imagined reading

An unread book is all possible stories. It contains all possible characters, styles, genres, turns of phrase, metaphors, speech patterns, and profound life-changing revelations. An unread book exists only in the primordial soup of your imagination, and there it can evolve into any story you like. An unread book – any unread book – could change your life. … I often find that the book I have read is somehow not as exciting as the book I had imagined reading. No book is ever quite as good as it potentially could have been.

—Kirsty Logan

Scribbling changes in the margins

[E]ven after living with [my first novel] for seven years I was still scribbling changes in the margins up to the very last minute of my very last deadline. I make changes still, in fact, every time I open the book. As Ben Marcus said, “It’s not entirely clear to me why publishing this book means I should stop working on it.”

Maybe we’re slow to finish our books because we can’t part with them. Truman Capote said, “Finishing a book is just like you took a child out in the back yard and shot it.”

—Valerie Laken

Time is Needed

By and large really great writing from all wars comes a good time afterwards, when a person has had the time to let material develop and form itself, so that it’s not rhetorical. So that it’s not so heavily autobiographical.  … It’s a bit like writing about cancer; there needs to be time. You need to find a way to transcend the tendency to put in every little detail. Just because it felt so important, it may not be important to the reader. And time is needed for imagination to come into play and to work with the material, to shape a story that may not be wholly in the real world, but only partly.

—Tim O’Brien

Passion for the Tedious

Memory is not a journalist’s tool. Memory glimmers and hints, but shows nothing sharply or clearly. Memory does not narrate or render character. Memory has no regard for the reader. If an autobiography is to be even minimally readable, the autobiographer must step in and subdue what you could call memory’s autism, its passion for the tedious. He must not be afraid to invent. Above all he must invent himself. Like Rousseau, who wrote (at the beginning of his novelistic Confessions) that “I am not made like anyone I have ever been acquainted with, perhaps like no one in existence,” he must sustain, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, the illusion of his preternatural extraordinariness.

—Janet Malcolm

Upon Finishing

For years I would, after devouring a great novel, feel low upon finishing it. It was worse than the end of a holiday. I had been part of a whole new world, a separate society, an individual’s trials and tribulations, murder and redemption or love and hate and then, with the turn of a final page, it was gone.

Book clubs are a cure for that sudden onset of depression. Instead of feeling lost upon finishing a captivating novel, you feel a buzz of anticipation. What did the rest of the gang make of it? You do not have to foist the book you have just enjoyed upon someone and have to wait for them to decide to read it. With a book club you know a group of people are reading it at the same time as you. … The gathering represents closure and a pain-free way to start another book. Instead of saying to no one in particular, with a deep sigh, “Ah, that was so moving” and being looked at as if you are either slightly simple or overly bookish, you can say it and receive a knowing nod or an informed shake of the head.

—Alyson Rudd

Write it all

[N]ever censor yourself while you are still writing the story. Save the censoring for the final draft.

Here’s why.

Self-censorship isn’t an exact science. While you’re making sure not to write anything that will offend your parents, you may also be holding back some important emotional truth that will make your story rich and insightful. Don’t block the creative flow. Write it all. Every detail that occurs to you. Until it’s published, it’s private, so be honest, frank, and free.

—Tayari Jones