;-)

Susan: it’s cause I’m the new kid isn’t it? if ya start pants-ing me this soon I’ll never show you that spot under the bleachers where the cool kids smoke.

Frank – Isn’t it fun singling Lance out?

Portraits – You put your finger right on the tension – most writers don’t want to be boring and most writers don’t want to violate others. No easy answers. Thanks for being here, Portraits!

I FEEL EARTHQUAKES MORE OFTEN THAN THEY HAPPEN (from what I’ve read of these excerpts) seems to offer an interesting balance, by keeping the names and physical descriptions on non-celebrities to a minimum.

Writers are natural murderers. Their murderousness is a form of sociopathy, fueled by resentment, scorn, glee, and deep affection. Before they can even begin writing, they must kill off parents, siblings, lovers, mentors, friends—anyone, in short, whose opinion might matter. If these people are left alive and allowed to take up residence in the front row of the audience, the writer will never be able to get the fiction right. More than this, she will never want to get it right. What she must do, if the fiction is to take breath, is to defictionalise the life, to disentangle it from the myths and fictions that we all create in order to control what we cannot alter. And then to work down, down, down, to the morally anaerobic heart of the matter within.

–Lynn Freed, Reading, Writing, and Leaving Home

here’s what I have tacked up above the trusty Mac.

“every woman artist has to kill her own grandmother. She perches on our shoulder whispering, “don’t embarrass the family’.” – Erica Jong

and while we’re at it I think I might as well throw this one into the mix, it seems to fit this thread;
“one of the things a writer is for is to say the unsayable, speak the unspeakable and ask difficult questions.” -Salman Rushdie

and Frank- He, I’m so on Team Frey!
The world of Genre Writing has created an enviroment where literature is downright disposable. If a writer crafts words well it should be irrelevent what you call the physical book. I’m of the school that there is no fiction in writing, you are sharing a subjective view; the writer is always in the work. and there is the human truth.
ask me to elaborate on this one at a later date…..I’m beat.

xo- LR

Susan- always a pleasure!!
do I get a cookie now??

Aurelio – I smiled so much when I read this.

Lance – I’m very similar in that I seem to have no control over what I write – I just start tunneling desperately to create some sense of order. To conquer the sense of chaos I feel.

Myfanwy – I believe you do this in your writing – your characters are shown respect by how fully you create them. I try to do the same.

Joe – Well said – the internal Irish editor who keeps you from revealing too much.

Kasper – I can’t tell you how much I learn about writing when I hear you talk about painting. Nice thoughts on the slipperiness of truth, as well.

Pia – I know this well – the desire to give voice to a quiet kid now that you can.

Mikel K – You get at something here that I think I’ll address more on Friday – this idea you describe well about portraying your character’s opinions not as your mellow and more worldly self but with the opinions, worldview and intensity of the time you character is in.

Gail – Me, too: truth in fiction, lies in non-fiction, and worry all-around.

Noria – Oh, that’s nice, how fiction allows you to be more truthful. I think I heard Lance Reynald using that quote you referred to – maybe he’ll elaborate?

Josh – Ha! So glad you’re here!

Darrin – That’s a very original thought around here – the perspective of a travel writer exposing only what’s legal or respectful given the country he’s writing about.

Patry – Isn’t that the truth – how a reader always wants to find himself inside a story?

Carolyn – Fascinating, that choice to cut a line from the story to spare a person in real life. Thanks for bringing that piece to the conversation.

Frank – I agree! Our fictions contain so many truths. Our truths contain so many lies – whether they are to make a story better-paced or they come from our own blindspots. How wonderful when we throw away the labels and just allow ourselves to be transported and emotionally changed by the stories we read.

So who gives a shit, right? What difference does a harmess compartmentalizing do? Answer: it boxes us in. James Frey (oh no! The man whose name shall not be uttered!) is a perfect example of this. He stated repeatedly for the record that he saw his book along the same lines as the Beats or the writings of Hmeingway. I guarantee you there was just as much made up shit in those books as there was in Frey’s books. And there is no less truth in Frey’s book as there is in On The Road. Does this mean that I think people shouldn’t write stories that are based on the experiences in their lives? Hell no. Those are the stories that, for me personally, resound the most. But for fuck sake, let’s stop using the term “memoir”, and let the artistry of the writing and the truths revealed within these works stand on their own merits. And if it makes some people feel better, they can slap a “Based on a true story” sticker on the front cover.

As for my own writing, it’s not a big secret that FUTUREPROOF is based on many of my own life experiences. And I was told repeatedly by agents and editors that I’d have an eazy sell if I just came out and “admitted” that the book was a memoir. But it says “a novel” on the front cover for a very good reason. It says “a novel” because I wanted it to say the exact opposite of “memoir”. Hopefully someday I’ll be able to publish it with just the title and my name and leave it at that, and still have people take a look to see what all ther hype is about….

Just this week I removed a line from a short story entered in a contest because it smacked too close to a truth that would hurt someone dear to me. The story is hugely autobiographical and those who know me would see the reference, know exactly to whom it was directed, and thus their perception of the person I wrote about would be changed in the mind of those readers. I removed the line because the story could stand on its own without it. I realized this was a case where there is a story, but this was not the place to tell it.

Aurelio and Pia already said what my first reaction was upon reading your question of the week. I don’t write fiction because it’s cheaper than going to a therapist, but every story I write winds up with a theme that’s been digging at my unconscious. Many times I sit down to write about *this,* but *that* will emerge and I’ll think, “where did *that* come from?” Sometimes I’m delighted by what appears, but like the line I cut from the contest story I’m more often amazed, freaked, or even scared by what I must do to “serve the work.”