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poor tessie
Is there a single story, or bit of writing, something you read, etc., that made you want to first begin writing? It doesn’t have to be a story; you could expand this – a piece of art, a bit music composition, whatever. Can you pinpoint, if possible, an object with which you interacted that made you want to create some real writing for the first time ever in your life and continue to do it until you die and rot?
I would rather focus on that initial first ever commitment to writing. We’ve talked a lot about ways we continue to inspire ourselves to create text (what music we listen to or what art we look at, for example), so this is more of an origins question: the origins of your first ever serious impulse to write. For that reason, it might be a little too hard to answer, but still fun to think about, maybe.
This question courtesy of David Erlewine, who emailed me this:
maybe you could do a post about the story that “got” people into writing. kinda cheesy maybe … and for some there may not be “one” story but i know for me reading shirley jackson’s the lottery absolutely made me want to write/read/etc. for good.
Sure, the question could risk oversimplifying the process a bit, but humor us, or give more than one, whatever.
In my case, I can think of several points in my life when I read something and wanted to try to recreate that feeling I got when I read that something, so it’s hard for me to get to that exact moment when I thought I would try to put everything into writing, commit to it, you know?
But, I’ll try. I’d say, for me, the summer of 2004, when I read Infinite Jest was that moment. And I don’t claim any special ground here regarding Infinite Jest, as I’m assuming this is probably not surprising to many HTMLGIANT readers, I mean, his importance. But yeah, I was living at college for the summer, waking up early to train for cross country season, then working in the campus mail office all day sorting mail, then going to my dorm room to read/write (on the days I didn’t go off campus to stay with my girlfriend/nowwifeperson). Infinite Jest, the story of it, the sheer mass, the language, those things and the solitary existence I lived for those months and the life I’d had had until then all combined into this awareness of how special, I think, it was to see someone, Wallace in this case, so committed and excited about writing. I had read other things before that gave me similar feelings, but I hadn’t been writing as seriously as I had been that summer. Infinite Jest, the reading of it, made me think harder about my own writing. I don’t mean the language/product of it, which was still pretty awful, I guess, but instead, I think I took the actual act of writing more seriously, tried to adjust my way of thinking about it as something I should be more serious about in my activities, especially if I hoped to create a fraction of the thing that Infinite Jest was.
Then I asked David to explain a bit further his experience of “The Lottery,” and here’s his response:
I was sitting in 9th grade English class, not paying attention, skimming through the assigned short story book (one of those thick anthologies with stories by Graham Greene, etc…). The last story was Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery.” While Mr. Cudd (nice enough guy but a real gabber) rambled on about Graham’s genius, I was reading the last three paragraphs of “The Lottery,” over and over. I can still remember how crazy I was feeling right then, wanting to turn around and tell the guy behind me to read the last story.
The story, plot-wise, is pretty simple: To ensure a good harvest, this little town has a lottery where everyone draws a piece of paper. You know something bad happens to the loser but not exactly what. One woman, Tessie Hutchinson, shows up late, joking with everyone, acting so above it all. She draws the one piece of paper with a black spot. The story ending is too good to summarize:
“Tessie Hutchinson was in the center of a cleared space by now, and she held her hands out desperately as the villagers moved in on her. ‘It isn’t fair,’ she said. A stone hit her on the side of the head. Old Man Warner was saying, ‘Come on, come on, everyone.’ Steve Adams was in the front of the crowd of villagers, with Mrs. Graves beside him.
“It isn’t fair, it isn’t right,” Mrs. Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her.”
FUCK ME. That’s what I think nearly 20 years later, reading that again.
How about you?
Yeah, that story is one of my favorites. It sticks with you over the years. I also like her earlier work, where the experience of horror, the unknown, is subtle, insidious. But The Lottery kicked my ass.
Yeah, that story is one of my favorites. It sticks with you over the years. I also like her earlier work, where the experience of horror, the unknown, is subtle, insidious. But The Lottery kicked my ass.
I don’t think it was a particular story that made me want to write. For me it was my eighth grade english teachers shoes. Ya, her shoes. She is a short, stout woman who always wore a skirt and low-heeled pumps. She loved reading to the class and would walk/shuffle around the linoleum in these click/scuffle shoes. I adored the sound they made while she read to us. I wanted the authors of these stories to hear her reading them, she clearly LOVED literature. She made me want to write something that was worthy of her shoes. I still hope to.
I don’t think it was a particular story that made me want to write. For me it was my eighth grade english teachers shoes. Ya, her shoes. She is a short, stout woman who always wore a skirt and low-heeled pumps. She loved reading to the class and would walk/shuffle around the linoleum in these click/scuffle shoes. I adored the sound they made while she read to us. I wanted the authors of these stories to hear her reading them, she clearly LOVED literature. She made me want to write something that was worthy of her shoes. I still hope to.
Kyle! Great to see/hear from you. Glad I’m not the only one. I remember reading how the New Yorker got all sorts of hate mail (as did Shirley) about the story. Sort of like the Clockwork Orange reaction (people puking/fainting in the theatres).
Kyle! Great to see/hear from you. Glad I’m not the only one. I remember reading how the New Yorker got all sorts of hate mail (as did Shirley) about the story. Sort of like the Clockwork Orange reaction (people puking/fainting in the theatres).
Awesome, Teresa. Sounds like she and Mr. Cudd had a few differences. I shouldn’t be mentioning him by name? Ah, fuck it. He once told me how lucky I was to have my girlfriend. He sort of licked his lips saying how he loved “that long black hair.” Okay, I’m straying.
Awesome, Teresa. Sounds like she and Mr. Cudd had a few differences. I shouldn’t be mentioning him by name? Ah, fuck it. He once told me how lucky I was to have my girlfriend. He sort of licked his lips saying how he loved “that long black hair.” Okay, I’m straying.
what a creep. Long black hair is sexy though.
what a creep. Long black hair is sexy though.
Third grade. Miss Mooney’s class. Every Wednesday was ‘story day’ and I made up a series called, “The Kooky Class” which were silly stories involving most every kid in the class. Everybody laughed at them and looked forward to them every Wednesday. It made me feel loved and popular. Pavlov’s dog bit me then I guess.
Funny…books never made me want to write when i was young. It was more the reaction I got WHEN I wrote that made me keep wanting to write.
I guess it’s kind of the same now.
Third grade. Miss Mooney’s class. Every Wednesday was ‘story day’ and I made up a series called, “The Kooky Class” which were silly stories involving most every kid in the class. Everybody laughed at them and looked forward to them every Wednesday. It made me feel loved and popular. Pavlov’s dog bit me then I guess.
Funny…books never made me want to write when i was young. It was more the reaction I got WHEN I wrote that made me keep wanting to write.
I guess it’s kind of the same now.
“Is there a single story, or bit of writing, something you read, etc., that made you want to first begin writing? It doesn’t have to be a story; you could expand this – a piece of art, a bit music composition, whatever. Can you pinpoint, if possible, an object with which you interacted that made you want to create some real writing for the first time ever in your life and continue to do it until you die and rot?”
….Hm. First response: No. I can’t pinpoint an object, or a piece of writing, or a story, or even a feeling. I think the writing, or the expression, always existed, well before me, and as soon as I learned to make the marks on the paper I fell into the river. I’ve been learning to breathe underwater ever since. But sometimes I take a lungful and break the surface. That’s when bad haiku happens.
If I had to touch upon something more tangible, at least in terms of inspiration, I’d have to say “Mrs. Frisbee and the Rats of NIMH” was an early favorite. Later, “Beowulf.” Later, “The Rosy Crucifixion.” On and on and on.
Cinema too, and music. Images. People. People the most. Everything. I don’t know. What kind of bullshit question is this anyway?
Kidding.
Love you cats.
Best, Mel
“Is there a single story, or bit of writing, something you read, etc., that made you want to first begin writing? It doesn’t have to be a story; you could expand this – a piece of art, a bit music composition, whatever. Can you pinpoint, if possible, an object with which you interacted that made you want to create some real writing for the first time ever in your life and continue to do it until you die and rot?”
….Hm. First response: No. I can’t pinpoint an object, or a piece of writing, or a story, or even a feeling. I think the writing, or the expression, always existed, well before me, and as soon as I learned to make the marks on the paper I fell into the river. I’ve been learning to breathe underwater ever since. But sometimes I take a lungful and break the surface. That’s when bad haiku happens.
If I had to touch upon something more tangible, at least in terms of inspiration, I’d have to say “Mrs. Frisbee and the Rats of NIMH” was an early favorite. Later, “Beowulf.” Later, “The Rosy Crucifixion.” On and on and on.
Cinema too, and music. Images. People. People the most. Everything. I don’t know. What kind of bullshit question is this anyway?
Kidding.
Love you cats.
Best, Mel
Awesome, xtx, I can relate.
I lived in Dallas in sixth grade. This really scary dude named David Jacobs always gave me shit because I was Jewish. He was huge. I wrote a story that I read in English class about a guy who doesn’t believe in Santa. At the end, he learns Santa is real. Then, Santa hugs him and stabs him. David J stood up and gave me an “air high five”. For a week or so, we were on good terms.
David Jacobs, a few years ago, was involved in the cowboys steroids thing and ended up dead, along with a woman. He looked like he weighed about 300 pounds, mainly muscle.
Awesome, xtx, I can relate.
I lived in Dallas in sixth grade. This really scary dude named David Jacobs always gave me shit because I was Jewish. He was huge. I wrote a story that I read in English class about a guy who doesn’t believe in Santa. At the end, he learns Santa is real. Then, Santa hugs him and stabs him. David J stood up and gave me an “air high five”. For a week or so, we were on good terms.
David Jacobs, a few years ago, was involved in the cowboys steroids thing and ended up dead, along with a woman. He looked like he weighed about 300 pounds, mainly muscle.
awesome
awesome
Two books have ever made me actively want to write: Jerzy Kosnski’s The Painted Bird and Donna Tarrt’s The Secret History. The former is the only book I have ever had to stop reading because I was sobbing so hard, while the latter is the only that I have ever been simply unable to put down.
Two books have ever made me actively want to write: Jerzy Kosnski’s The Painted Bird and Donna Tarrt’s The Secret History. The former is the only book I have ever had to stop reading because I was sobbing so hard, while the latter is the only that I have ever been simply unable to put down.
I don’t know how old I was as my memory is fuzzy but I was just a little kid when I read a book called Figgs and Phantoms (I forget the author). It was a subversive story about love of books, religion, death and tap dancing. I badly wanted to make something like that book. The night I finished it I wrote my first short story and never stopped writing.
I don’t know how old I was as my memory is fuzzy but I was just a little kid when I read a book called Figgs and Phantoms (I forget the author). It was a subversive story about love of books, religion, death and tap dancing. I badly wanted to make something like that book. The night I finished it I wrote my first short story and never stopped writing.
Jerzy Kozinski’s Painted Bird might be on my list, too.
Love “The Lottery.” I think I read somewhere that people were so offended when it came out in the NYer they had to recall the issue. Cool.
Jerzy Kozinski’s Painted Bird might be on my list, too.
Love “The Lottery.” I think I read somewhere that people were so offended when it came out in the NYer they had to recall the issue. Cool.
A series of books at my local library called “Childhood of Famous Americans.” It’s possible that could use some more explaining, but it just is what it is. The series fostered reading and the reading led naturally to writing. I wanted to recreate the thing that had so grabbed hold of me. I guess. My goal continues to be to collect all the books in this series.
A series of books at my local library called “Childhood of Famous Americans.” It’s possible that could use some more explaining, but it just is what it is. The series fostered reading and the reading led naturally to writing. I wanted to recreate the thing that had so grabbed hold of me. I guess. My goal continues to be to collect all the books in this series.
I had a wildly subversive theater teacher in High School, and my first exposure to Jackson was when my school performed the play adaptation. I was running lights, so for me the ending of that story/play is always connected to my vague memories of specific lighting cues.
Regarding books, there are two. Having always been vaguely interested in narrative– either as a book or a movie– horror, and sexuality (and the linkage of the two from an early age) I considered writing a fun potentiality. But two books that I read my Freshman year of high school cemented the fact that language & narrative could achieve something beyond escapism: Bataille’s Story of the Eye and Danielewski’s House of Leaves. Both are, of course, ostensibly horror stories, but the way they are told (the excess, the violence of sexuality, the impossible, in Bataille, the form & the terror derived from form [particularly, the chapter within The Navidson Record book dedicated to the ideas of an echo– hallways being echoed as always sent a shock straight down my spine, but also viscerally affected my entire being] in the Danielewski) established some sort of framework that drew attention to the text itself, the subversive possibilities of the page, and a lifelong love affair with experimentation.
er, that is, the play adaptation of The Lottery.
I had a wildly subversive theater teacher in High School, and my first exposure to Jackson was when my school performed the play adaptation. I was running lights, so for me the ending of that story/play is always connected to my vague memories of specific lighting cues.
Regarding books, there are two. Having always been vaguely interested in narrative– either as a book or a movie– horror, and sexuality (and the linkage of the two from an early age) I considered writing a fun potentiality. But two books that I read my Freshman year of high school cemented the fact that language & narrative could achieve something beyond escapism: Bataille’s Story of the Eye and Danielewski’s House of Leaves. Both are, of course, ostensibly horror stories, but the way they are told (the excess, the violence of sexuality, the impossible, in Bataille, the form & the terror derived from form [particularly, the chapter within The Navidson Record book dedicated to the ideas of an echo– hallways being echoed as always sent a shock straight down my spine, but also viscerally affected my entire being] in the Danielewski) established some sort of framework that drew attention to the text itself, the subversive possibilities of the page, and a lifelong love affair with experimentation.
er, that is, the play adaptation of The Lottery.
The Burgess Animal Book for Children. I read it when I was six or seven and it was like being able to put a name to a fetish, like finding this conduit where my entire interior life could come pouring out. The fact that someone else — an adult — had this fully realized universe where animals had words and consciousness and interacted… it reminds me of what friends have said about their first time going to a gay bar. I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t that weird, and I could DO something with all the odd stuff in my head. Just remembering that makes me feel like writing something right now, although maybe not about talking animals. But… hey, maybe.
The Burgess Animal Book for Children. I read it when I was six or seven and it was like being able to put a name to a fetish, like finding this conduit where my entire interior life could come pouring out. The fact that someone else — an adult — had this fully realized universe where animals had words and consciousness and interacted… it reminds me of what friends have said about their first time going to a gay bar. I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t that weird, and I could DO something with all the odd stuff in my head. Just remembering that makes me feel like writing something right now, although maybe not about talking animals. But… hey, maybe.
Hank the Cowdog.
http://www.hankthecowdog.com/
“How’d you like it if I peed on your tires?”
Hank the Cowdog.
http://www.hankthecowdog.com/
“How’d you like it if I peed on your tires?”
haha… those have fallen out of favor somewhat, but they’re still being cranked out. i think up to 53 now. maybe 54… just sold someone on #1 the other day.
haha… those have fallen out of favor somewhat, but they’re still being cranked out. i think up to 53 now. maybe 54… just sold someone on #1 the other day.
i did not know this bonnie, that is crazy
i did not know this bonnie, that is crazy
anyone remember the secret life of walter mitty?! that was 8th grade english for me
wanting to write came totally by accident for me. in 7th grade our teacher assigned us to write poems. i was pissed. i loved reading, but the thought of writing seemed really lame to me. for revenge i decided to write the stupidest poems ever. the teacher ended up loving them (which was pretty convincing because i adored her). and i came to like them, too… after that sports started becoming more of a challenge for me because i had some pretty serious injuries. during those times i started writing a lot. and it kind of stuck.
anyone remember the secret life of walter mitty?! that was 8th grade english for me
wanting to write came totally by accident for me. in 7th grade our teacher assigned us to write poems. i was pissed. i loved reading, but the thought of writing seemed really lame to me. for revenge i decided to write the stupidest poems ever. the teacher ended up loving them (which was pretty convincing because i adored her). and i came to like them, too… after that sports started becoming more of a challenge for me because i had some pretty serious injuries. during those times i started writing a lot. and it kind of stuck.
ryan, read this interview with dapowell, in which he talks about how he came to begin to write poems:
“If you don’t like the person, then you don’t like anything that they do. And if you don’t like what they do, then you do something to sabotage it. I was a very willful and also conniving young person. I decided that what I would do was that I would write something that was reprehensible, so that I wouldn’t actually have to give the speech. I stayed up the night before the event and wrote, oh, probably fifteen poems, the first poems I ever wrote.”
Yes. Great stuff
ryan, read this interview with dapowell, in which he talks about how he came to begin to write poems:
“If you don’t like the person, then you don’t like anything that they do. And if you don’t like what they do, then you do something to sabotage it. I was a very willful and also conniving young person. I decided that what I would do was that I would write something that was reprehensible, so that I wouldn’t actually have to give the speech. I stayed up the night before the event and wrote, oh, probably fifteen poems, the first poems I ever wrote.”
Yes. Great stuff
that and a story about someone out in the streets looking in on the blue tv screens in the windows of houses and a robot police car. tahts all i remember
and my teacher one day throwing a book at someone. that was fun.
that and a story about someone out in the streets looking in on the blue tv screens in the windows of houses and a robot police car. tahts all i remember
and my teacher one day throwing a book at someone. that was fun.
that’s a fantastic interview! thanks for the link.
i often think about that class, and the more i do the less i understand why i was so against the assignment. i loved the teacher, she was fresh out of college, so younger than the rest of our teachers, and pretty. i imagine many of us would have done anything to have her like us. and on top of that, like i said, i was an avid reader.
that teacher actually had a pretty big impact on me, and i heard from her some years later in a pretty touching email… i’m pretty sure i wouldn’t have started writing without her and that assignment.
that’s a fantastic interview! thanks for the link.
i often think about that class, and the more i do the less i understand why i was so against the assignment. i loved the teacher, she was fresh out of college, so younger than the rest of our teachers, and pretty. i imagine many of us would have done anything to have her like us. and on top of that, like i said, i was an avid reader.
that teacher actually had a pretty big impact on me, and i heard from her some years later in a pretty touching email… i’m pretty sure i wouldn’t have started writing without her and that assignment.
indeed, shirley took a LOT of heat (death threats, etc), according to some articles i read. crazy shit.
indeed, shirley took a LOT of heat (death threats, etc), according to some articles i read. crazy shit.
oh shit, i think that was in the same 9th grade book as the lottery. great story.
oh shit, i think that was in the same 9th grade book as the lottery. great story.
Tim O’Brien’s “In the Lake of the Woods” was unputdownable for me. I skipped a day of law school to sit in my bed reading it. When it was done (and that ending fucks with you)…I wasn’t sure what to do.
Tim O’Brien’s “In the Lake of the Woods” was unputdownable for me. I skipped a day of law school to sit in my bed reading it. When it was done (and that ending fucks with you)…I wasn’t sure what to do.
some have said i was sick the day they taught law at law school.
some have said i was sick the day they taught law at law school.
do you has a link? i guess i could google.
do you has a link? i guess i could google.
great stuff, ryan b.
the fiction i wrote in 7th grade is pretty good stuff. i had a spy named MIke Draq who liked to slither under men’s room stalls and surprise his enemies with lines like, “Whatcha doing?” My younger brother, all these years later, claims Mike Draq was his creation. Whatevs, dude, give it up, ya know? Some guys don’t know when to say when I guess.
great stuff, ryan b.
the fiction i wrote in 7th grade is pretty good stuff. i had a spy named MIke Draq who liked to slither under men’s room stalls and surprise his enemies with lines like, “Whatcha doing?” My younger brother, all these years later, claims Mike Draq was his creation. Whatevs, dude, give it up, ya know? Some guys don’t know when to say when I guess.
david, my mother recently gave me a huge folder of old school work and it included those initial poems from 7th grade. pretty funny stuff.
and i totally created mike draq. don’t mess.
david, my mother recently gave me a huge folder of old school work and it included those initial poems from 7th grade. pretty funny stuff.
and i totally created mike draq. don’t mess.
i like this post idea. i think aesop’s fables was the first thing that made me feel awesome.
i like this post idea. i think aesop’s fables was the first thing that made me feel awesome.
Anyone ever read Gordon Korman? I read his books when I was in grade school and was pretty sure I wanted to write for a living after that. He was so fucking funny and likable. I mean, he probably still is. I haven’t read him in like twenty years.
Anyone ever read Gordon Korman? I read his books when I was in grade school and was pretty sure I wanted to write for a living after that. He was so fucking funny and likable. I mean, he probably still is. I haven’t read him in like twenty years.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lottery
if it’s in wiki…gotsa to be true
i actually recall reading years ago about her “responding” publicly (in a newspaper) to the people demanding her explain her story.
looked for more but found squat
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lottery
if it’s in wiki…gotsa to be true
i actually recall reading years ago about her “responding” publicly (in a newspaper) to the people demanding her explain her story.
looked for more but found squat
my older boy loves his books
my older boy loves his books
i’m going to call my brother now, wake his professorial ass up, and demand a signed/notarized document giving up any ownership relating to one michael “mikey boy” draq.
after i get his, i’m coming for you. get your pen ready.
i’m going to call my brother now, wake his professorial ass up, and demand a signed/notarized document giving up any ownership relating to one michael “mikey boy” draq.
after i get his, i’m coming for you. get your pen ready.
indeedy
indeedy
indeedy
There’s a wonderful recording of Dick Cavett reading that story. It was on an episode of Selected Shorts.
There’s a wonderful recording of Dick Cavett reading that story. It was on an episode of Selected Shorts.
There’s a wonderful recording of Dick Cavett reading that story. It was on an episode of Selected Shorts.
I liked The Bombay Boomerang a lot.
But, it probably all started when Ms. Wendt read The Bunjee Venture to us in fourth grade. Ms. Wendt was really pretty and she really enjoyed reading aloud to us.
If writing meant a pretty girl would read something you wrote out loud to other people, well…
I liked The Bombay Boomerang a lot.
But, it probably all started when Ms. Wendt read The Bunjee Venture to us in fourth grade. Ms. Wendt was really pretty and she really enjoyed reading aloud to us.
If writing meant a pretty girl would read something you wrote out loud to other people, well…
I liked The Bombay Boomerang a lot.
But, it probably all started when Ms. Wendt read The Bunjee Venture to us in fourth grade. Ms. Wendt was really pretty and she really enjoyed reading aloud to us.
If writing meant a pretty girl would read something you wrote out loud to other people, well…
I love The Lottery. The books that made me want to write were The Little House on the Prairie series and Flowers in the Attic by VC Andrews. I love LHOP because I always lost myself in the books. I still reread them now, as an adult. Every detail in those books felt so real. I felt the harsh winters in my bones. I loved Almanzo Wilder. Seriously. I named a teddy bear Almanzo and I took his ass to bed every night and we made out hardcore. I wanted to be able to write like that–to make people believe words and feel things and have illicit relationships with their stuffed animals. They remain my favorite books in the world. I loved Flowers in the Attic because the story was so fucked up and it was kind of dirty and it blew my young mind that you could read (and write) about these sorts of things without going to hell and then I wanted to write dirty fucked up things too. So yeah. That explains that.
I love The Lottery. The books that made me want to write were The Little House on the Prairie series and Flowers in the Attic by VC Andrews. I love LHOP because I always lost myself in the books. I still reread them now, as an adult. Every detail in those books felt so real. I felt the harsh winters in my bones. I loved Almanzo Wilder. Seriously. I named a teddy bear Almanzo and I took his ass to bed every night and we made out hardcore. I wanted to be able to write like that–to make people believe words and feel things and have illicit relationships with their stuffed animals. They remain my favorite books in the world. I loved Flowers in the Attic because the story was so fucked up and it was kind of dirty and it blew my young mind that you could read (and write) about these sorts of things without going to hell and then I wanted to write dirty fucked up things too. So yeah. That explains that.
I love The Lottery. The books that made me want to write were The Little House on the Prairie series and Flowers in the Attic by VC Andrews. I love LHOP because I always lost myself in the books. I still reread them now, as an adult. Every detail in those books felt so real. I felt the harsh winters in my bones. I loved Almanzo Wilder. Seriously. I named a teddy bear Almanzo and I took his ass to bed every night and we made out hardcore. I wanted to be able to write like that–to make people believe words and feel things and have illicit relationships with their stuffed animals. They remain my favorite books in the world. I loved Flowers in the Attic because the story was so fucked up and it was kind of dirty and it blew my young mind that you could read (and write) about these sorts of things without going to hell and then I wanted to write dirty fucked up things too. So yeah. That explains that.
The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster by Richard Brautigan. I was 13 and somehow a battered copy fell into my hands. Every word and page was a revelation.
“When you take your pill
it’s like a mine disaster.
I think of all the people
lost inside of you.”
I remember the awe of how that exact small bit of writing expanded in my head. I remember knowing THAT was what words were supposed to do. A jillion years and words later, I still think that’s what words are supposed to do.
The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster by Richard Brautigan. I was 13 and somehow a battered copy fell into my hands. Every word and page was a revelation.
“When you take your pill
it’s like a mine disaster.
I think of all the people
lost inside of you.”
I remember the awe of how that exact small bit of writing expanded in my head. I remember knowing THAT was what words were supposed to do. A jillion years and words later, I still think that’s what words are supposed to do.
i dunno… i’m pretty stubborn
i dunno… i’m pretty stubborn
The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster by Richard Brautigan. I was 13 and somehow a battered copy fell into my hands. Every word and page was a revelation.
“When you take your pill
it’s like a mine disaster.
I think of all the people
lost inside of you.”
I remember the awe of how that exact small bit of writing expanded in my head. I remember knowing THAT was what words were supposed to do. A jillion years and words later, I still think that’s what words are supposed to do.
i dunno… i’m pretty stubborn
in tenth grade my english teacher made me a photocopy of john barth’s lost in the funhouse and i am pretty sure that nothing much has been the same ever since. in the sense that as i read it i learned that the way that words occurred in my head was a way that they were allowed to occur on a page. that this was, in some way or another, acceptable.
in tenth grade my english teacher made me a photocopy of john barth’s lost in the funhouse and i am pretty sure that nothing much has been the same ever since. in the sense that as i read it i learned that the way that words occurred in my head was a way that they were allowed to occur on a page. that this was, in some way or another, acceptable.
in tenth grade my english teacher made me a photocopy of john barth’s lost in the funhouse and i am pretty sure that nothing much has been the same ever since. in the sense that as i read it i learned that the way that words occurred in my head was a way that they were allowed to occur on a page. that this was, in some way or another, acceptable.
ive enjoyed putting words to paper since i was little, but the first book to make me want to “write” “fiction” was infinite jest.
ive enjoyed putting words to paper since i was little, but the first book to make me want to “write” “fiction” was infinite jest.
ive enjoyed putting words to paper since i was little, but the first book to make me want to “write” “fiction” was infinite jest.
the mouse & the motorcycle
bunnicula
sounder
Goosebumps
Demon Knight (the movie). I used my father’s typewriter to transcribe the opening minutes into a short story.
& The Stand, though I never read it. My mom had it on her bookshelf. I kept picking it up, looking at this massive thing. I’d read the dust jacket. The first few pages. Pages in the middle. At the end. Never all the way through. It scared me and made me excited. I really wanted to write something that large….
the mouse & the motorcycle
bunnicula
sounder
Goosebumps
Demon Knight (the movie). I used my father’s typewriter to transcribe the opening minutes into a short story.
& The Stand, though I never read it. My mom had it on her bookshelf. I kept picking it up, looking at this massive thing. I’d read the dust jacket. The first few pages. Pages in the middle. At the end. Never all the way through. It scared me and made me excited. I really wanted to write something that large….
the mouse & the motorcycle
bunnicula
sounder
Goosebumps
Demon Knight (the movie). I used my father’s typewriter to transcribe the opening minutes into a short story.
& The Stand, though I never read it. My mom had it on her bookshelf. I kept picking it up, looking at this massive thing. I’d read the dust jacket. The first few pages. Pages in the middle. At the end. Never all the way through. It scared me and made me excited. I really wanted to write something that large….
Cool post! Love reading peoples’ replies.
Seems like my extracurricular reading during ninth grade was pivotal for me – Brave New World and Flannery O’Connor short stories. And, yes, I read The Painted Bird that year, too. Great to see it mentioned here, and The Lottery, too.
I think having a librarian for a mom had a huge impact, too.
Cool post! Love reading peoples’ replies.
Seems like my extracurricular reading during ninth grade was pivotal for me – Brave New World and Flannery O’Connor short stories. And, yes, I read The Painted Bird that year, too. Great to see it mentioned here, and The Lottery, too.
I think having a librarian for a mom had a huge impact, too.
Cool post! Love reading peoples’ replies.
Seems like my extracurricular reading during ninth grade was pivotal for me – Brave New World and Flannery O’Connor short stories. And, yes, I read The Painted Bird that year, too. Great to see it mentioned here, and The Lottery, too.
I think having a librarian for a mom had a huge impact, too.
Oh, Bunnicula. Man. Loved those books. Loved them so much. This list is great.
I’m always psyched to read your comments on this blog, Michael James.
Oh, Bunnicula. Man. Loved those books. Loved them so much. This list is great.
I’m always psyched to read your comments on this blog, Michael James.
Oh, Bunnicula. Man. Loved those books. Loved them so much. This list is great.
I’m always psyched to read your comments on this blog, Michael James.
when i was in high school, charles bukowski made me realize poetry wasn’t “totally gay.”
when i was in high school, charles bukowski made me realize poetry wasn’t “totally gay.”
when i was in high school, charles bukowski made me realize poetry wasn’t “totally gay.”
Hearing Henry Rollins and Steven Jesse Bernstein doing “spoken word.”
Reading the story “Car Bomb” by Mark Leyner.
Hearing Henry Rollins and Steven Jesse Bernstein doing “spoken word.”
Reading the story “Car Bomb” by Mark Leyner.
Hearing Henry Rollins and Steven Jesse Bernstein doing “spoken word.”
Reading the story “Car Bomb” by Mark Leyner.
cool, thanks
cool, thanks
cool, thanks
things between us started in such a good way
ah, fuck it, no reason to ruin that
things between us started in such a good way
ah, fuck it, no reason to ruin that
thanks…sam
i’m still waiting to feel awesome
thanks…sam
i’m still waiting to feel awesome
things between us started in such a good way
ah, fuck it, no reason to ruin that
thanks…sam
i’m still waiting to feel awesome
oh shit! That Flowers in the Attic book fucked up my 13-year-old head for good. I remember staying up late to read it, feeling like I was looking at porn, like my dad would come in and tell me to give him that filthy book. Your description of the book is spot on. I’m coming to the writing dirty things world late, but i’m loving it. For that, I do owe VC something something.
And, getting to re-read the Lottery today was one of the coolest things about this post.
oh shit! That Flowers in the Attic book fucked up my 13-year-old head for good. I remember staying up late to read it, feeling like I was looking at porn, like my dad would come in and tell me to give him that filthy book. Your description of the book is spot on. I’m coming to the writing dirty things world late, but i’m loving it. For that, I do owe VC something something.
And, getting to re-read the Lottery today was one of the coolest things about this post.
oh shit! That Flowers in the Attic book fucked up my 13-year-old head for good. I remember staying up late to read it, feeling like I was looking at porn, like my dad would come in and tell me to give him that filthy book. Your description of the book is spot on. I’m coming to the writing dirty things world late, but i’m loving it. For that, I do owe VC something something.
And, getting to re-read the Lottery today was one of the coolest things about this post.
greatness
damn, I loved Sounder and the stand. I remember reading Richard Bachman’s “The long Walk” and having one of those OH SHiT moments when one of the cocky walkers says he wants to just take a break for a second and they kill him. The power in that scene was amazing. I loved so much of what Bachman/King did back then. The Dead Zone is another book I read and read as a kid. The part where one of Greg Stillson’s victims decides not to go to the cops is perfect (“Someone else would surely stop him.”). I wrote that line out a lot as a way to start stories.
greatness
damn, I loved Sounder and the stand. I remember reading Richard Bachman’s “The long Walk” and having one of those OH SHiT moments when one of the cocky walkers says he wants to just take a break for a second and they kill him. The power in that scene was amazing. I loved so much of what Bachman/King did back then. The Dead Zone is another book I read and read as a kid. The part where one of Greg Stillson’s victims decides not to go to the cops is perfect (“Someone else would surely stop him.”). I wrote that line out a lot as a way to start stories.
greatness
damn, I loved Sounder and the stand. I remember reading Richard Bachman’s “The long Walk” and having one of those OH SHiT moments when one of the cocky walkers says he wants to just take a break for a second and they kill him. The power in that scene was amazing. I loved so much of what Bachman/King did back then. The Dead Zone is another book I read and read as a kid. The part where one of Greg Stillson’s victims decides not to go to the cops is perfect (“Someone else would surely stop him.”). I wrote that line out a lot as a way to start stories.
Flannery O’s “Everything That Rises Must Converge” made me a hell of a lot more serious about writing. I read it in college and just kept thinking about the ending for…shit, well till now.
if you haven’t read that story, and you’re reading this, go check it out at
http://wings.buffalo.edu/AandL/english/courses/eng201d/converge.html
and stop reading this
the perfect ending is cut/pasted here:
Stunned, he let her go and she lurched forward again, walking as if one leg were shorter than the other. A tide of darkness seemed to be sweeping her from him. “Mother!” he cried. “Darling, sweetheart, wait!” Crumpling, she fell to the pavement. He dashed forward and fell at her side, crying, “Mamma, Mamma!” He turned her over. Her face was fiercely distorted. One eye, large and staring, moved slightly to the left as if it had become unmoored. The other remained fixed on him, raked his face again, found nothing and closed.
“Wait here, wait here!” he cried and jumped up and began to run for help toward a cluster of lights he saw in the distance ahead of him. “Help, help!” he shouted, but his voice was thin, scarcely a thread of sound. The lights drifted farther away the faster he ran and his feet moved numbly as if they carried him nowhere. The tide of darkness seemed to sweep him back to her, postponing from moment to moment his entry into the world of guilt and sorrow.
FUCK! That may have had as much impact on me in college as the Lottery did on me in 9th grade.
Flannery O’s “Everything That Rises Must Converge” made me a hell of a lot more serious about writing. I read it in college and just kept thinking about the ending for…shit, well till now.
if you haven’t read that story, and you’re reading this, go check it out at
http://wings.buffalo.edu/AandL/english/courses/eng201d/converge.html
and stop reading this
the perfect ending is cut/pasted here:
Stunned, he let her go and she lurched forward again, walking as if one leg were shorter than the other. A tide of darkness seemed to be sweeping her from him. “Mother!” he cried. “Darling, sweetheart, wait!” Crumpling, she fell to the pavement. He dashed forward and fell at her side, crying, “Mamma, Mamma!” He turned her over. Her face was fiercely distorted. One eye, large and staring, moved slightly to the left as if it had become unmoored. The other remained fixed on him, raked his face again, found nothing and closed.
“Wait here, wait here!” he cried and jumped up and began to run for help toward a cluster of lights he saw in the distance ahead of him. “Help, help!” he shouted, but his voice was thin, scarcely a thread of sound. The lights drifted farther away the faster he ran and his feet moved numbly as if they carried him nowhere. The tide of darkness seemed to sweep him back to her, postponing from moment to moment his entry into the world of guilt and sorrow.
FUCK! That may have had as much impact on me in college as the Lottery did on me in 9th grade.
Flannery O’s “Everything That Rises Must Converge” made me a hell of a lot more serious about writing. I read it in college and just kept thinking about the ending for…shit, well till now.
if you haven’t read that story, and you’re reading this, go check it out at
http://wings.buffalo.edu/AandL/english/courses/eng201d/converge.html
and stop reading this
the perfect ending is cut/pasted here:
Stunned, he let her go and she lurched forward again, walking as if one leg were shorter than the other. A tide of darkness seemed to be sweeping her from him. “Mother!” he cried. “Darling, sweetheart, wait!” Crumpling, she fell to the pavement. He dashed forward and fell at her side, crying, “Mamma, Mamma!” He turned her over. Her face was fiercely distorted. One eye, large and staring, moved slightly to the left as if it had become unmoored. The other remained fixed on him, raked his face again, found nothing and closed.
“Wait here, wait here!” he cried and jumped up and began to run for help toward a cluster of lights he saw in the distance ahead of him. “Help, help!” he shouted, but his voice was thin, scarcely a thread of sound. The lights drifted farther away the faster he ran and his feet moved numbly as if they carried him nowhere. The tide of darkness seemed to sweep him back to her, postponing from moment to moment his entry into the world of guilt and sorrow.
FUCK! That may have had as much impact on me in college as the Lottery did on me in 9th grade.
I started writing when I was small, but I don’t remember any one book that spurred me on. Just a whole strange montage of (I was a young kid with insomnia, and devouring every book in site) Sweet Valley High, The Babysitter’s Club, Enid Blytons, my mother’s Fay Weldons and Margaret Atwoods. And reading that much, it just seemed natural to write.
Then, later, think it was the first time I read The Powerbook by Jeanette Winterson, it made me feel understood. The spiral narrative just seemed to echo the manner in which I think, and I really liked the queerness of her writing. I think it was the first time a book made me feel ‘understood.’
And sometimes you read something and you think ‘Christ, I wish I’d had that idea.’ And sometimes it’s just ‘Wow. That’s amazing.’ But both make me want to write.
Then, at uni, I’d been studying writing, and most of it was relatively traditional and just wasn’t resonating with me on any major level. But I had this one tutor who liked weird lit. And he introduced us to writing by Donald Barthelme, Kharms, Robert Walser, Gertrude Stein….
And again. I just kind of ‘got it,’ I think.
I started writing when I was small, but I don’t remember any one book that spurred me on. Just a whole strange montage of (I was a young kid with insomnia, and devouring every book in site) Sweet Valley High, The Babysitter’s Club, Enid Blytons, my mother’s Fay Weldons and Margaret Atwoods. And reading that much, it just seemed natural to write.
Then, later, think it was the first time I read The Powerbook by Jeanette Winterson, it made me feel understood. The spiral narrative just seemed to echo the manner in which I think, and I really liked the queerness of her writing. I think it was the first time a book made me feel ‘understood.’
And sometimes you read something and you think ‘Christ, I wish I’d had that idea.’ And sometimes it’s just ‘Wow. That’s amazing.’ But both make me want to write.
Then, at uni, I’d been studying writing, and most of it was relatively traditional and just wasn’t resonating with me on any major level. But I had this one tutor who liked weird lit. And he introduced us to writing by Donald Barthelme, Kharms, Robert Walser, Gertrude Stein….
And again. I just kind of ‘got it,’ I think.
I started writing when I was small, but I don’t remember any one book that spurred me on. Just a whole strange montage of (I was a young kid with insomnia, and devouring every book in site) Sweet Valley High, The Babysitter’s Club, Enid Blytons, my mother’s Fay Weldons and Margaret Atwoods. And reading that much, it just seemed natural to write.
Then, later, think it was the first time I read The Powerbook by Jeanette Winterson, it made me feel understood. The spiral narrative just seemed to echo the manner in which I think, and I really liked the queerness of her writing. I think it was the first time a book made me feel ‘understood.’
And sometimes you read something and you think ‘Christ, I wish I’d had that idea.’ And sometimes it’s just ‘Wow. That’s amazing.’ But both make me want to write.
Then, at uni, I’d been studying writing, and most of it was relatively traditional and just wasn’t resonating with me on any major level. But I had this one tutor who liked weird lit. And he introduced us to writing by Donald Barthelme, Kharms, Robert Walser, Gertrude Stein….
And again. I just kind of ‘got it,’ I think.
Randall Brown rightly called me out for not including the line before the passage I quoted:
“The children had stones already. And someone gave little Davy Hutchinson few pebbles.”
Randall Brown rightly called me out for not including the line before the passage I quoted:
“The children had stones already. And someone gave little Davy Hutchinson few pebbles.”
Randall Brown rightly called me out for not including the line before the passage I quoted:
“The children had stones already. And someone gave little Davy Hutchinson few pebbles.”
I think what bugged people so much was that the date given in the story on which the ritual takes place was like the same day that the New Yorker issue came out.
I think what bugged people so much was that the date given in the story on which the ritual takes place was like the same day that the New Yorker issue came out.
I think what bugged people so much was that the date given in the story on which the ritual takes place was like the same day that the New Yorker issue came out.
i’m just so happy to see so many teachers have made a fucking diff in young lives.
i’d been writing poems since about 4th grade, but the book that kicked off my live long love affair reading/wtting fiction i read summer after 7th grade: Marjorie Morningstar.
i’m just so happy to see so many teachers have made a fucking diff in young lives.
i’d been writing poems since about 4th grade, but the book that kicked off my live long love affair reading/wtting fiction i read summer after 7th grade: Marjorie Morningstar.
i’m just so happy to see so many teachers have made a fucking diff in young lives.
i’d been writing poems since about 4th grade, but the book that kicked off my live long love affair reading/wtting fiction i read summer after 7th grade: Marjorie Morningstar.
haha. now we have to start all over.
haha. now we have to start all over.
haha. now we have to start all over.
something i was surprised to see from so many of these comments is how great an effect these ‘kid’ books had on people at young ages. i see that my assumption in the op was a bit off (that ‘serious’ writing is not posssible until we ‘mature’). really thnks people for these comments, because now i am thinking back further.
lots of the books mentioned were favorites of mine. now i want to go to my parents house and look at my bookshelf. i think they kept every single one of my sisters and my books from when we were little.
oh, and, mr. poppers penguins, anyone?
something i was surprised to see from so many of these comments is how great an effect these ‘kid’ books had on people at young ages. i see that my assumption in the op was a bit off (that ‘serious’ writing is not posssible until we ‘mature’). really thnks people for these comments, because now i am thinking back further.
lots of the books mentioned were favorites of mine. now i want to go to my parents house and look at my bookshelf. i think they kept every single one of my sisters and my books from when we were little.
oh, and, mr. poppers penguins, anyone?
something i was surprised to see from so many of these comments is how great an effect these ‘kid’ books had on people at young ages. i see that my assumption in the op was a bit off (that ‘serious’ writing is not posssible until we ‘mature’). really thnks people for these comments, because now i am thinking back further.
lots of the books mentioned were favorites of mine. now i want to go to my parents house and look at my bookshelf. i think they kept every single one of my sisters and my books from when we were little.
oh, and, mr. poppers penguins, anyone?
Two ‘watershed’ moments for me: the closing lines of “Miss Ogilvie Finds Herself” by Radclyffe Hall and the line in “Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit” by Jeanette Winterson where she likens something (what? -must go back and look) to an aerial map of Paris.
Ryan Call: I agree- this thread is making me ‘go back, way back’ in my memory of reading experiences/writing influences.
Two ‘watershed’ moments for me: the closing lines of “Miss Ogilvie Finds Herself” by Radclyffe Hall and the line in “Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit” by Jeanette Winterson where she likens something (what? -must go back and look) to an aerial map of Paris.
Ryan Call: I agree- this thread is making me ‘go back, way back’ in my memory of reading experiences/writing influences.
Two ‘watershed’ moments for me: the closing lines of “Miss Ogilvie Finds Herself” by Radclyffe Hall and the line in “Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit” by Jeanette Winterson where she likens something (what? -must go back and look) to an aerial map of Paris.
Ryan Call: I agree- this thread is making me ‘go back, way back’ in my memory of reading experiences/writing influences.
the ‘ugly warthog from hell’ bit from “Revelation” by Flannery O’Connor
the ‘ugly warthog from hell’ bit from “Revelation” by Flannery O’Connor
the ‘ugly warthog from hell’ bit from “Revelation” by Flannery O’Connor
Great post Ryan. When I was in 6th grade we read “To Build a Fire” by Jack London. I think this was standard 80’s middle school curriculum.
This story affected me. Everything seemed so ‘unified’. So real and inevitable. It was like you knew the character was going to die as soon as you started reading, but you still had to read through in case there was something else–some escape route–that the character didn’t see.
Looking back now it’s hard to write on without sounding like whatever, but to a 6th grader who loved to read this story dropped me into some new flow I’d never experienced before. On one level I could read the story and be there. On another I could imagine what the writer had seen that would’ve allowed him to write like that–and I wanted to be there too. damn.
Great post Ryan. When I was in 6th grade we read “To Build a Fire” by Jack London. I think this was standard 80’s middle school curriculum.
This story affected me. Everything seemed so ‘unified’. So real and inevitable. It was like you knew the character was going to die as soon as you started reading, but you still had to read through in case there was something else–some escape route–that the character didn’t see.
Looking back now it’s hard to write on without sounding like whatever, but to a 6th grader who loved to read this story dropped me into some new flow I’d never experienced before. On one level I could read the story and be there. On another I could imagine what the writer had seen that would’ve allowed him to write like that–and I wanted to be there too. damn.
Great post Ryan. When I was in 6th grade we read “To Build a Fire” by Jack London. I think this was standard 80’s middle school curriculum.
This story affected me. Everything seemed so ‘unified’. So real and inevitable. It was like you knew the character was going to die as soon as you started reading, but you still had to read through in case there was something else–some escape route–that the character didn’t see.
Looking back now it’s hard to write on without sounding like whatever, but to a 6th grader who loved to read this story dropped me into some new flow I’d never experienced before. On one level I could read the story and be there. On another I could imagine what the writer had seen that would’ve allowed him to write like that–and I wanted to be there too. damn.
i remember having one of those moments reading the picasso (i think?) story in ‘the world and other places’ when on a very heterosexual holiday years ago. it was nice.
re: children’s books. i think they’re really important. i’m really grateful for old-fashioned fairytales and alice in wonderland and roald dahl and jazz like that at an early age.
i remember having one of those moments reading the picasso (i think?) story in ‘the world and other places’ when on a very heterosexual holiday years ago. it was nice.
re: children’s books. i think they’re really important. i’m really grateful for old-fashioned fairytales and alice in wonderland and roald dahl and jazz like that at an early age.
i remember having one of those moments reading the picasso (i think?) story in ‘the world and other places’ when on a very heterosexual holiday years ago. it was nice.
re: children’s books. i think they’re really important. i’m really grateful for old-fashioned fairytales and alice in wonderland and roald dahl and jazz like that at an early age.
haha, indeed. also william carlos williams’ “use of force” opened things up like crazy for me.
haha, indeed. also william carlos williams’ “use of force” opened things up like crazy for me.
hey donna! indeed, it’s really cool about the teachers.
hey donna! indeed, it’s really cool about the teachers.
haha, indeed. also william carlos williams’ “use of force” opened things up like crazy for me.
hey donna! indeed, it’s really cool about the teachers.
oh shit, jack london. now i’m remember fifth grade reading “the call of the wild”. i was supposed to be doing some work for the school, like something relating to the dewey decimal system, but i was hiding in the stacks, reading that book.
oh shit, jack london. now i’m remember fifth grade reading “the call of the wild”. i was supposed to be doing some work for the school, like something relating to the dewey decimal system, but i was hiding in the stacks, reading that book.
oh shit, jack london. now i’m remember fifth grade reading “the call of the wild”. i was supposed to be doing some work for the school, like something relating to the dewey decimal system, but i was hiding in the stacks, reading that book.
yeah, my folks live close by. i should do the same. in third and fourth grade, i had all the tales of a fourth grade nothing/soup/blubber books as well as the tales of soup and me, etc. i used to feel so damn bad for blubber, really identifying with her. I had a bad stutter in elementary school – bad as in my friends’ parents sometimes even laughed at me – so i identified with that damn “blubber.” i even felt humiliated reading “a girl’s book” and not being able to put it down, not letting my friends know how much i loved it.
yeah, my folks live close by. i should do the same. in third and fourth grade, i had all the tales of a fourth grade nothing/soup/blubber books as well as the tales of soup and me, etc. i used to feel so damn bad for blubber, really identifying with her. I had a bad stutter in elementary school – bad as in my friends’ parents sometimes even laughed at me – so i identified with that damn “blubber.” i even felt humiliated reading “a girl’s book” and not being able to put it down, not letting my friends know how much i loved it.
yeah, my folks live close by. i should do the same. in third and fourth grade, i had all the tales of a fourth grade nothing/soup/blubber books as well as the tales of soup and me, etc. i used to feel so damn bad for blubber, really identifying with her. I had a bad stutter in elementary school – bad as in my friends’ parents sometimes even laughed at me – so i identified with that damn “blubber.” i even felt humiliated reading “a girl’s book” and not being able to put it down, not letting my friends know how much i loved it.
Oh Marjorie Morningstar! I loved that! Haven’t heard the name in years!
Oh Marjorie Morningstar! I loved that! Haven’t heard the name in years!
Oh Marjorie Morningstar! I loved that! Haven’t heard the name in years!
I was always a voracious reader and writing came easily to me in school, etc., I didn’t start fiction writing until 9 years ago when I was single and dating online. I got enough feedback from men that I should write, based on my earthy little matchmaker emails, so I took a beginning fiction class at UCLA Extension with Tod Goldberg (his first class teaching). I had read a few famous short stories before then, O. Henry, de Maupassant, Salinger, etc., mainly in lit classes for school. So Tod assigned “You’re Ugly, Too” by Lorrie Moore, and that seriously hooked me. It was a turning point because I wanted to write like Lorrie. And then like Carver. Now I hope I write like Alicia.
I was always a voracious reader and writing came easily to me in school, etc., I didn’t start fiction writing until 9 years ago when I was single and dating online. I got enough feedback from men that I should write, based on my earthy little matchmaker emails, so I took a beginning fiction class at UCLA Extension with Tod Goldberg (his first class teaching). I had read a few famous short stories before then, O. Henry, de Maupassant, Salinger, etc., mainly in lit classes for school. So Tod assigned “You’re Ugly, Too” by Lorrie Moore, and that seriously hooked me. It was a turning point because I wanted to write like Lorrie. And then like Carver. Now I hope I write like Alicia.
I was always a voracious reader and writing came easily to me in school, etc., I didn’t start fiction writing until 9 years ago when I was single and dating online. I got enough feedback from men that I should write, based on my earthy little matchmaker emails, so I took a beginning fiction class at UCLA Extension with Tod Goldberg (his first class teaching). I had read a few famous short stories before then, O. Henry, de Maupassant, Salinger, etc., mainly in lit classes for school. So Tod assigned “You’re Ugly, Too” by Lorrie Moore, and that seriously hooked me. It was a turning point because I wanted to write like Lorrie. And then like Carver. Now I hope I write like Alicia.
Ha! I love “You’re Ugly, Too.” What a unique start to an incredible writing career. Still can’t get over your Elimae story that made the Wigleaf top 50. Don’t even have to cheat by looking up my two favorite lines:
Underneath my black wool suit I wear new scarlet panties, bright as a flame.
I feed him antacids and light his cigarettes for him.
Ha! I love “You’re Ugly, Too.” What a unique start to an incredible writing career. Still can’t get over your Elimae story that made the Wigleaf top 50. Don’t even have to cheat by looking up my two favorite lines:
Underneath my black wool suit I wear new scarlet panties, bright as a flame.
I feed him antacids and light his cigarettes for him.
Ha! I love “You’re Ugly, Too.” What a unique start to an incredible writing career. Still can’t get over your Elimae story that made the Wigleaf top 50. Don’t even have to cheat by looking up my two favorite lines:
Underneath my black wool suit I wear new scarlet panties, bright as a flame.
I feed him antacids and light his cigarettes for him.
Cornelius Eady’s “Victims of the Latest Dance Craze” when I was 16. First thought, upon hearing it read aloud by a teacher: “You can do THAT with words?”
Cornelius Eady’s “Victims of the Latest Dance Craze” when I was 16. First thought, upon hearing it read aloud by a teacher: “You can do THAT with words?”
Cornelius Eady’s “Victims of the Latest Dance Craze” when I was 16. First thought, upon hearing it read aloud by a teacher: “You can do THAT with words?”
I remember writing a poem when I was in ninth or tenth grade and in it I used the word ‘spasibo’ because I thought it was such a cool word.
I remember writing a poem when I was in ninth or tenth grade and in it I used the word ‘spasibo’ because I thought it was such a cool word.
I remember writing a poem when I was in ninth or tenth grade and in it I used the word ‘spasibo’ because I thought it was such a cool word.
I always said I wanted to be a writer when I grew up when I was like 5 years old and it never changed. I spent the first half of elementary school writing knock-offs of The Babysitter’s Club and the second half writing knock-offs of Christopher Pike and then falling in love with Stephen King and Anne Rice. Sometime in middle school I read Catcher in the Rye and realized “serious literature” was not always boring and dull. Much of a cliche as it is, the fact that all that teen angst still felt so relevant and relatable to me 40 years after it was published was really a revelation for me about what books could do.
I always said I wanted to be a writer when I grew up when I was like 5 years old and it never changed. I spent the first half of elementary school writing knock-offs of The Babysitter’s Club and the second half writing knock-offs of Christopher Pike and then falling in love with Stephen King and Anne Rice. Sometime in middle school I read Catcher in the Rye and realized “serious literature” was not always boring and dull. Much of a cliche as it is, the fact that all that teen angst still felt so relevant and relatable to me 40 years after it was published was really a revelation for me about what books could do.
I always said I wanted to be a writer when I grew up when I was like 5 years old and it never changed. I spent the first half of elementary school writing knock-offs of The Babysitter’s Club and the second half writing knock-offs of Christopher Pike and then falling in love with Stephen King and Anne Rice. Sometime in middle school I read Catcher in the Rye and realized “serious literature” was not always boring and dull. Much of a cliche as it is, the fact that all that teen angst still felt so relevant and relatable to me 40 years after it was published was really a revelation for me about what books could do.
Christopher Freaking Pike.
I used to buy those books en masse and read them in one day, after another.
At times I feel guilty that I write work which can be read by youngsters, but is essentially meant another crowd. Those books were “for us”, you know? If RL Stine hadn’t written those thick, gruesome stories that spanned novel after novel and were for us… what impact would that have had? Would we have discussed it amongst our elementary friends about how sick and scary this stuff was? Would those subtle actions communicate to us the power of literature?
I really want to start writing books for the younger crowd. I believe this is more difficult than what most of us do, no?
Christopher Freaking Pike.
I used to buy those books en masse and read them in one day, after another.
At times I feel guilty that I write work which can be read by youngsters, but is essentially meant another crowd. Those books were “for us”, you know? If RL Stine hadn’t written those thick, gruesome stories that spanned novel after novel and were for us… what impact would that have had? Would we have discussed it amongst our elementary friends about how sick and scary this stuff was? Would those subtle actions communicate to us the power of literature?
I really want to start writing books for the younger crowd. I believe this is more difficult than what most of us do, no?
Christopher Freaking Pike.
I used to buy those books en masse and read them in one day, after another.
At times I feel guilty that I write work which can be read by youngsters, but is essentially meant another crowd. Those books were “for us”, you know? If RL Stine hadn’t written those thick, gruesome stories that spanned novel after novel and were for us… what impact would that have had? Would we have discussed it amongst our elementary friends about how sick and scary this stuff was? Would those subtle actions communicate to us the power of literature?
I really want to start writing books for the younger crowd. I believe this is more difficult than what most of us do, no?
Trumpet of the Swan. Or the Once and Future King.
Trumpet of the Swan. Or the Once and Future King.
Trumpet of the Swan. Or the Once and Future King.
Shirley Jackson in general is absolutely incredible. I don’t know why she seems to get so little love in the academy, beyond that one story, which I love, but honestly I don’t think is even close to her best.
Shirley Jackson in general is absolutely incredible. I don’t know why she seems to get so little love in the academy, beyond that one story, which I love, but honestly I don’t think is even close to her best.
Shirley Jackson in general is absolutely incredible. I don’t know why she seems to get so little love in the academy, beyond that one story, which I love, but honestly I don’t think is even close to her best.
Props for Bunnicula
also, The Celery Stalks at Midnight
Props for Bunnicula
also, The Celery Stalks at Midnight
Props for Bunnicula
also, The Celery Stalks at Midnight
Michael, I know. It’s so easy to write those books off as something we grew out of, but they had us so crazy excited about reading weird, fucked up shit at an impressionable age. And an adult had to care enough to write them in order for them to exist. I totally think on some level they were as lasting an influence as any “serious lit” I’ve read. Remember Scavenger Hunt?! Whisper of Death? I want to dig those out.
Michael, I know. It’s so easy to write those books off as something we grew out of, but they had us so crazy excited about reading weird, fucked up shit at an impressionable age. And an adult had to care enough to write them in order for them to exist. I totally think on some level they were as lasting an influence as any “serious lit” I’ve read. Remember Scavenger Hunt?! Whisper of Death? I want to dig those out.
Michael, I know. It’s so easy to write those books off as something we grew out of, but they had us so crazy excited about reading weird, fucked up shit at an impressionable age. And an adult had to care enough to write them in order for them to exist. I totally think on some level they were as lasting an influence as any “serious lit” I’ve read. Remember Scavenger Hunt?! Whisper of Death? I want to dig those out.
Hey Mike, that is very cool news. I’m excited to read a lot more of her work. Can you recommend some of her other pieces to get started on?
Hey Mike, that is very cool news. I’m excited to read a lot more of her work. Can you recommend some of her other pieces to get started on?
Hey Mike, that is very cool news. I’m excited to read a lot more of her work. Can you recommend some of her other pieces to get started on?
MIchael and Angi, great comments. I’ve thought about writing a book about teen stuttering, somewhat akin to “Black Swan Green”. A lot of my stories are about sons and fathers, sometimes with the son stuttering and the resulting problems. For whatever reason, the novel I sometimes work on is just treacle (e.g., scenes in school where son can’t say a word and kids laugh). it’s just bad. i’m going to stick with shorts/flashes for the time being but wanted to comment that while I’d love to write a book that appealed to teens (hopefully appealed to stuttering teens)…it is tough as hell for me to write like that.
MIchael and Angi, great comments. I’ve thought about writing a book about teen stuttering, somewhat akin to “Black Swan Green”. A lot of my stories are about sons and fathers, sometimes with the son stuttering and the resulting problems. For whatever reason, the novel I sometimes work on is just treacle (e.g., scenes in school where son can’t say a word and kids laugh). it’s just bad. i’m going to stick with shorts/flashes for the time being but wanted to comment that while I’d love to write a book that appealed to teens (hopefully appealed to stuttering teens)…it is tough as hell for me to write like that.
MIchael and Angi, great comments. I’ve thought about writing a book about teen stuttering, somewhat akin to “Black Swan Green”. A lot of my stories are about sons and fathers, sometimes with the son stuttering and the resulting problems. For whatever reason, the novel I sometimes work on is just treacle (e.g., scenes in school where son can’t say a word and kids laugh). it’s just bad. i’m going to stick with shorts/flashes for the time being but wanted to comment that while I’d love to write a book that appealed to teens (hopefully appealed to stuttering teens)…it is tough as hell for me to write like that.
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