I’ve always felt the fascination with such matters had to do with the paradox of looking at the activity of a creative writer, probably the least alienated form of labor imaginable, as work that has its own special materials, procedures, schedules, and so on. I think I remember Barthes touching on this question from a different angle in his essay in “Mythologies” on the writer on vacation.

I would like to know why it’s being claimed that “the products of writing cannot and should not be separated from the act of writing.” Cannot be in what sense? Surely they usually are; otherwise what would be the point of these questions? Should not be why? How does it matter to the reader of “Pale Fire” that the novel was composed on a series of index cards while standing at a lectern? (Nabokov may have looked down on these questions, but he answered them repeatedly and in detail.)

I’ve always felt the fascination with such matters had to do with the paradox of looking at the activity of a creative writer, probably the least alienated form of labor imaginable, as work that has its own special materials, procedures, schedules, and so on. I think I remember Barthes touching on this question from a different angle in his essay in “Mythologies” on the writer on vacation.

I would like to know why it’s being claimed that “the products of writing cannot and should not be separated from the act of writing.” Cannot be in what sense? Surely they usually are; otherwise what would be the point of these questions? Should not be why? How does it matter to the reader of “Pale Fire” that the novel was composed on a series of index cards while standing at a lectern? (Nabokov may have looked down on these questions, but he answered them repeatedly and in detail.)

I’ll toss a few more things about my process, if it helps. Music. Some people listen to it, some don’t. I found it very helpful to listen to certain bands and/or songs at certain times. I listened to Radiohead’s IN RAINBOWS for the bulk of my last novel. I listened to the Cure HEAD ON THE DOOR for a moody, alternative vampire story I was writing.

Writing shouldn’t be a punishment, a chore. If it is, then you should stop. It speaks to you, the process, the venting, the great unleashing of images and words. I forget the philosopher, but “a body without organs” is how it is for me, when I’m on my game. The world slips away, and I’m there, I’m in that warehouse, I’m covered in blood, I’m kissing my cousin, I’m flying, I’m being pummeled by fists, I’m sobbing, I’m holding a kitten, the wind is cold, my feet hurt, whatever.

I’m very curious to see what works for others here.

I’ll toss a few more things about my process, if it helps. Music. Some people listen to it, some don’t. I found it very helpful to listen to certain bands and/or songs at certain times. I listened to Radiohead’s IN RAINBOWS for the bulk of my last novel. I listened to the Cure HEAD ON THE DOOR for a moody, alternative vampire story I was writing.

Writing shouldn’t be a punishment, a chore. If it is, then you should stop. It speaks to you, the process, the venting, the great unleashing of images and words. I forget the philosopher, but “a body without organs” is how it is for me, when I’m on my game. The world slips away, and I’m there, I’m in that warehouse, I’m covered in blood, I’m kissing my cousin, I’m flying, I’m being pummeled by fists, I’m sobbing, I’m holding a kitten, the wind is cold, my feet hurt, whatever.

I’m very curious to see what works for others here.

i don’t know how true that is, but i feel it applies to your comment somehow, and is interesting.

especially that he had a specific tune he whistled, or song he sang, or something.

i don’t know how true that is, but i feel it applies to your comment somehow, and is interesting.

especially that he had a specific tune he whistled, or song he sang, or something.

@ Ryan: I’d be interested in hearing more about your conversation with Matt and Lily. One thing I found interesting about the panel interview was how different all four participants were (Amina Cain, Steve Katz, Vanessa, and Yuriy Tarnawsky).

As for Vanessa’s second comment, about how writers might base their habits on what will make them the writer they want to be–I think there’s some truth in that. I’d add, however, that I think writers also find habits and methods that are sustainable for them–or simply possible–and that different people find different things pleasurable/sustainable (or possible). And then some of what they write necessarily comes out of their repeatedly doing what they enjoy (or can afford).

@ EC re: Nabokov: Jeremy and I agree: that even great writers often deride these questions…but we remain fascinated nonetheless. And thanks for mentioning the Paris Review–it’s been some inspiration for us.

@ Richard: One big goal in pursuing these projects is that we want students to be able to read about a wide array of methods and materials that different writers use. I often find, to my distress, that many of my writing students do all of their work in a computer lab the night before an assignment is due; small wonder they think of writing as unpleasant, or even a punishment! Most of them haven’t even entertained the idea that they could, for instance, write in a coffeehouse, or write in the early morning, etc. So maybe some students who eventually read these interviews will be inspired to try something new.

I should add that neither Jeremy nor I are interested in evaluation here: rather, we’re trying to investigate/provide a lot of information for anyone who might benefit from it.

@ anne boyer: Jeremy and I are interested in a wide degree of material circumstances; we hope we aren’t neglecting any (although of course we won’t be able to cover all of reality!). We are most definitely interested in differences in circumstance wrought by age, gender, race, class, country, language, and so on. We don’t believe that all writers are free to make all of their choices. We haven’t used the word “choice” (or its permutations) anywhere in our questions.

@ darby: Jeremy and I imagine that sometimes the stories we uncover will be illuminating, but sometimes not. For me, the highlight of the live @NOW interview was Steve Katz’s mention that, for some time, he wrote at Breton Point in a cabin he’d built, sitting at an ox blood-stained table, facing the ocean. (Vanessa’s reaction to this was priceless.) I’ve read most of Steve’s books, and I certainly hadn’t known that! I’m going to need to look back through them to see if I can find any evidence of that… (Steve pointed out immediately after that most of his writing–even the writing he did at Breton Point–is about cities.)

Thanks once again to everyone! Best regards,
Adam / A D Jameson

@ Ryan: I’d be interested in hearing more about your conversation with Matt and Lily. One thing I found interesting about the panel interview was how different all four participants were (Amina Cain, Steve Katz, Vanessa, and Yuriy Tarnawsky).

As for Vanessa’s second comment, about how writers might base their habits on what will make them the writer they want to be–I think there’s some truth in that. I’d add, however, that I think writers also find habits and methods that are sustainable for them–or simply possible–and that different people find different things pleasurable/sustainable (or possible). And then some of what they write necessarily comes out of their repeatedly doing what they enjoy (or can afford).

@ EC re: Nabokov: Jeremy and I agree: that even great writers often deride these questions…but we remain fascinated nonetheless. And thanks for mentioning the Paris Review–it’s been some inspiration for us.

@ Richard: One big goal in pursuing these projects is that we want students to be able to read about a wide array of methods and materials that different writers use. I often find, to my distress, that many of my writing students do all of their work in a computer lab the night before an assignment is due; small wonder they think of writing as unpleasant, or even a punishment! Most of them haven’t even entertained the idea that they could, for instance, write in a coffeehouse, or write in the early morning, etc. So maybe some students who eventually read these interviews will be inspired to try something new.

I should add that neither Jeremy nor I are interested in evaluation here: rather, we’re trying to investigate/provide a lot of information for anyone who might benefit from it.

@ anne boyer: Jeremy and I are interested in a wide degree of material circumstances; we hope we aren’t neglecting any (although of course we won’t be able to cover all of reality!). We are most definitely interested in differences in circumstance wrought by age, gender, race, class, country, language, and so on. We don’t believe that all writers are free to make all of their choices. We haven’t used the word “choice” (or its permutations) anywhere in our questions.

@ darby: Jeremy and I imagine that sometimes the stories we uncover will be illuminating, but sometimes not. For me, the highlight of the live @NOW interview was Steve Katz’s mention that, for some time, he wrote at Breton Point in a cabin he’d built, sitting at an ox blood-stained table, facing the ocean. (Vanessa’s reaction to this was priceless.) I’ve read most of Steve’s books, and I certainly hadn’t known that! I’m going to need to look back through them to see if I can find any evidence of that… (Steve pointed out immediately after that most of his writing–even the writing he did at Breton Point–is about cities.)

Thanks once again to everyone! Best regards,
Adam / A D Jameson