Mar 192010
 

Archive of My First Blog – 13

I’m back!
July 25, 2009

After a lot of work, some play and a bit of traveling, I’m back at the blog. Turns out that even a blog with a topic as wide open as “nothing in particular” and a posting schedule of “whenever the spirit moves me” doesn’t necessarily make a blogger’s life any easier. Committing to posting daily requires developing a posting habit — but I don’t really want one. Committing to a particular topic — or range of topics — focuses the mind but I don’t really want to limit my subject matter. After so many years of having my life dictated by my kids’ schedules, I have a near-phobic aversion to committing to any kind of schedule at all. And to me choosing a range of subjects means being required to have an opinion on those subjects and expressing it. But in the last couple of years I’ve tried to have fewer opinions and to hold those I do have a little less fiercely. I don’t want to do outrage. I don’t even want to do amused, as in Elvis Costello’s immortal lyric: “I used to be disgusted, now I try to be amused.” What I’m aiming for, I guess, is greater detachment, which I believe has and will help me become a better novelist. One of the reasons I loved being a reporter was because I could be in the thick of what was happening but not actually be part of it. To some that may sound like shirking responsibility, but to me that detachment is essential to sorting through a complex situation to find the essential truth. And the ability to find that truth — in news or in novels — is the key to good journalism and good fiction. Next week I’m plunging back into my Oneida novel, where the truth I’ve found to date actually came as a bit of a surprise and will make a better story, one I couldn’t have written if I was still doing outrage.

Mar 192010
 

Archive of My First Blog – 12

Wow! What a read!
April 1, 2009

I am on a bit of an Irish tear. The top of our Netflix queue features a couple of Irish titles that I’ve been meaning to get to for years — The Snapper, The Informer, Man of Aran. And these days my to-read bookshelf is about half Irish writers. A huge part of that is the fact that we spent three weeks in Ireland last May and I’d really like to go back. NOW! Since that’s not going to happen, I take the trip via novels and movies. The economic bust may have slain the Celtic Tiger, but the flowering of Celtic artistry in film, in fiction and in music remains astonishingly prolific and amazingly excellent. Case in point– novelist Joseph O’Connor. You may have heard of his sister, Sinead? If you’re a reader, write his name down along with the title of the book I’ve just finished: Star of the Sea. Wow! This book just knocked me out. When I’m working hard on a writing project, as I am with my Oneida novel, I don’t spend a lot of time reading fiction because I’ve got so much other reading to do. And I don’t stay up late reading in bed because I’ve got so much writing to do the next day. But with this novel, I couldn’t help myself. Dunno how late I stayed up to finish the book — didn’t dare look; dragged ass all day — but I was sorry to be done and wanted to start all over again. The time is November 1847, the height of the Great Famine, the now place is an emigrant ship sailing to New York and the then place is Connemara, the rugged western edge of counties Galway and Mayo where bogs are more brown than green and people died of starvation by the tens and hundreds of thousands. The book presents as a contemporary work by an American journalist and includes quotations and illustrations from 19th century publications as well as emigrant letters and songs. The result is an immensely rich and unforgettable read.