YOUR FRIDAY SMILE
AUTHOR ESI EDUGYAN
Earlier this month I had the pleasure of meeting Esi Edugyan, the author of Scotiabank Giller Prize winning Half-Blood Blues at the Denman Island Readers and Writers Festival, and to hear her read excerpts from her latest novel. At that time I had only just begun reading it, and as of last night, I am done. When we spoke, I asked her about the used of dialect in her book, which is populated by a mix of jazz musicians hailing from Baltimore, Chicago, New Orleans, Montreal, Germany and France. The use of the Baltimore”black” vernacular of narrator and protagonist Sidney Griffiths, in particular, as well as his motley crew of compatriots, is important because it contributes greatly to both the development of character, as well as to distinguish between one and another, and also plays a critical role in painting the mood and experience of that time and place: World War II Berlin and Paris. Several of the books reviewers, and several of the commenters at the conference, referred to the rhythm and tone of the language, and how it animated the story and lent it the musicality and feeling of the jazz music of the era. While I don’t disagree with this, and I very much enjoyed the language of the novel, this was not my main focus.
USE OF DIALECT IN FICTION
As a writer, I was principally interested in how she had researched the dialects she used, and how, as a writer she had decided how much, and which elements, of vocabulary and syntax she decided to use and which to leave out. This is what I asked her about. She answered that she had sourced and listened to recordings of spoken word by contemporary jazz musicians, including Louis Armstrong who is a minor character featured in this novel. She also said she had to use a lot of discretion to find the right balance between illuminating character and culture, and keeping the language clear enough to not alienate or confuse readers.
I dealt extensively with this problem in one of my own books (The Aviary) which features a Canadian woman in Yorkshire, who is surrounded by characters who all have an accent of one kind or another (to her ear), and finds herself quite challenged by the famously difficult Yorkshire dialect. I have received a fair bit of feedback from editors and beta readers about this at various stages, and made many changes to try to find the right balance.
Esi agreed, stating that she believes it was the extensive use of dialect that initially made the novel difficult to sell, and she did make changes accordingly in response to her editor’s feedback. Certainly there are many examples of excellent novels that use dialect to varying degrees. I find it hard to believe that so many readers find it so impenetrable as to limit an author’s creative freedom (unless you happen to be Peter Carey, but even he gets flack, apparently). The sound of language is so important to one’s experience of a story, I would think those in the business, and those who love to immerse themselves in a good story, would be more flexible and tolerant, and willing to do that tiny bit of extra work that it takes to become familiar enough to overcome any initial challenges. But apparently not. Or not often enough for publishers to take the risk.
CHARACTER, EGO, AMBITION, FRIENDSHIP AND VALUES
As a reader, I have to say the element of this story I found most compelling was the flawed main character and narrator, Sidney Griffiths, himself. Sidney is a sensitive guy with big dreams, too sensitive we and he think, for some of the company he keeps, including his life long friend and companion Chip Jones, a hard edges, big mouthed and often crude character whose friends seem to tolerate him because he’s sometimes funny and also a great drummer. Too sensitive, we also think, when Sidney’s disappointments, sense of betrayal, and lurking mistrust of others ends up alienating him from them. It is his own frailty as a human being that ends up doing him the most harm, as he lashes out and behaves in less than admirable ways simply because of his own frustrated ambition, or desire. Sidney, however, and I have to think Esi did this quite consciously, seems a bit more ordinary that the other characters in the book. He is neither an eccentric nor a genius, nor terribly damaged, as it turns out, neither a coward nor a hero. It is this very ordinariness that makes him sympathetic, and helps us to step in his shoes as he and his friends are tossed about by the winds of fate.
Without spoiling the story for those who haven’t yet read it, I will only say that it raises several questions for me, such as: When should we acknowledge that our youthful dreams of greatness will never be realized? Perhaps we haven’t been given the talent, the determination or the luck to make it happen. Is it more important to do a thing exceptionally well, or to do a thing because it brings you joy? Is any sacrifice or choice justifiable in the pursuit of excellence? Of success? Even when it hurts others? When our life is over, will we value our accomplishments more, or the people with whom we shared the journey, for better or worse?
EXCELLENCE VERSUS JOY
Near the end of the novel, there is an exchange between Chip and Sid about whether and why they continued playing the jazz music throughout their lives. Sidney says, “It was supposed to be this joyful music. And I just couldn’t find none of that joy in it no more.” And Chip’s reply is interesting. He says, “I don’t understand that at all…The music is the joy. That’s how you find it again. By playing.”
In some ways, it seems to me that Sid deprived himself of the joyful music because of the pain and sense of loss and guilt he suffers, because of other decisions and actions he made in his life.
What do you think? Is it more important to do a thing exceptionally well, or to do a thing because it brings you joy?
It’s been a year since I’ve attended a writers festival, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to this one either. I thought perhaps I’d been to too many, and they’d lost their sparkle.
But once I decided to, I quickly caught the fever, and have enjoyed once again plunging in amongst other afficionados of the written word. There really is nothing quite as stimulating as being around a bunch of people who share the crazy love one has for something – in my case books and the written word.
Sometimes, to tell the truth, I find other writers’ success stories a bit discouraging, and that’s true whether they found instant fame and fortune (depressing because this is not me) or whether they slogged away for over a decade before finally publishing their first book (depressing because this is perhaps me, at best).
But in the end I’m drawn into the readings and questions and answers, the writing craft workshops, which I never tire of, and those wonderful, electric, galvanizing moments when I meet another writer and get to indulge in intricate, detailed discussions about anything from research to dialect to story structure to editors to publishing.
There’s a kind of passionate connection that ultimately reinforces my belief that when amongst writers, I truly have found my tribe. And that’s validating no matter where you are along the road to publication. Those that have achieved a little or a lot of success usually display a charming deer-in-the-headlights kind of astonishment, and I recognize the sense of disbelief that anyone might want to read what I have created, never mind thousands of people. And this brings them all back down to the level of the simple, human writer, struggling to find the words, to keep sitting down at the keyboard and squeezing out that vision, trying to express ideas and feelings and satisfy that vague, mysterious, powerful urge to share and connect and create and weave stories that will engage and move readers.
Have you found your tribe? Amongst what kind of people do you feel most at home? What topics get you so excited you’re vibrating, and make time with others fly by unmeasured. Is it sharing recipes? Raising or teaching children? Gardening? Is it vintage cars or Scalentrix race tracks? Is it boats? Trains? Star Wars? Vampires or fairies? What’s your passion? Tell me about it.
I was tagged in the ‘Elevens Tag’ by Emily Dring at Ficklebrain. So, it looks like I’ve got eleven questions to answer. If I have tagged you, you’re next! Look to the end of this post for my new eleven questions and get typing away…
1) Is there anything that you like that most people don’t, or that you don’t like that most people do? Getting up in the morning and having to interact with other people. I like to start my day very slowly and quietly, puttering, drinking tea, hugging my cats, and not talking and rushing around. It’s one of the reasons I don’t like the idea of a regular office job. I’m a night owl through and through, and the world is always getting in the way.
2) Can you name one funny thing that you believed to be true when you were younger (which isn’t true)? That it’s frivolous, irresponsible or foolish to be an artist. That art is a nice hobby, but you have to do something sensible and practical to survive. Now I know that if you are called to be an artist, in any medium, then that’s what you need to do. Follow that passion. Use your talent and vision. I regret not following my instincts when I was younger. I was always trying to be sensible, please others and make them proud. Now, I’m trying to make up for lost time. Trying to get closer to the real me.
3) Which fictional character do you relate to the most and why? Jo March, because she knows what she wants, she is determined to get it, she just doesn’t fit in, and she is willing to give up the love of a good man and the good life he can provide her to pursue her dream of becoming a writer. And Elizabeth Bennett, because she’s idealistic and a bit naïve, an introvert, and believes in true love.
4) Can you name three places in the world that you would like to visit but have not yet had the opportunity to? Thailand, Greece, Eastern Europe (Prague/Warsaw/Kiev)
5) What has been your proudest achievement so far in life? Completing three novels. No, having my son. No, completing my novels. No, wait… Having my son taught me about commitment and discipline and patience and integrity, and that made it possible for me to write my novels.
6) How do you think we can tell ‘good’ writing from ‘bad’ writing? Good writing doesn’t get in the way of the story, either by being too awful or too spectacular. It’s pleasurable to read beautiful writing, but I don’t like to be distracted from a well-structured, creative, deep and entertaining tale about interesting, believable characters. That’s the main thing.
7) If you could only drink one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be? Probably tea. But I’d miss white wine.
8) If you were the Queen of England for a day, what would you do first? I think QEII is a pretty strong, incredible woman who has generally been a great monarch for the modern world, under trying and constantly changing circumstances. I admire her. Maybe I would try to get the Royal family to step back out of the spotlight a bit more. Let them find normal. Even though the English people seem to like what they do, and of course there’s the whole noblesse oblige thing. They do live a life of incredible privilege, but at a high price, I think. And the press won’t leave them alone, anyway.
9) What exactly is it that gets you really excited about a book, film, programme or song that you love? … a well-structured, creative, deep and entertaining tale about interesting, believable characters. The character arc.
10) What good quality do you possess that you don’t think gets enough exposure? I’m very tolerant of others’ differences. Very open-minded. But because people are often embedded in who they are and what they believe, and not afraid to express opinions, I find I often bite my tongue, not wishing to offend those with different views to my own. I always figure I’m better off listening and observing anyway, and maybe I’ll learn something that will change my mind on a topic. This has happened many times already. So I don’t hold too many strong opinions. It probably makes me appear weak-minded or dull, but there’s a lot going on upstairs. Sometimes it’s because I just don’t have a position, for spiritual/metaphysical reasons. I’m very apolitical. This makes blogging difficult for me. I can’t abide empty chatter, and I don’t like to lock in too many ideas either. I’m constantly working things out.
Moral certainty is always a sign of cultural inferiority. The more uncivilized the man, the surer he is that he knows precisely what is right and what is wrong. All human progress, even in morals, has been the work of men who have doubted the current moral values, not of men who have whooped them up and tried to enforce them. The truly civilized man is always skeptical and tolerant, in this field as in all others. His culture is based on “I am not too sure.” -H.L. Mencken, writer, editor, and critic (1880-1956)
11) Why did you start blogging on WordPress? Well it was/is just a web site to begin with. A place-holder, so that anyone looking for me (the unpublished writer) would find the right me. Then, because I understand writers can’t be eccentric hermits these days (much as I’d like that), and I need to create an author brand, a community, an island in the vast sea of the internet that can be my home. A place to figure out who I am and who I’m talking to, and what I have to offer. I’m still working on that.
There we have it! Eleven questions answered, and now eleven to ask! Even if you weren’t tagged, please feel free to play along. Here are your eleven new questions:
1) What is your favourite happy meal?
2) What genre of fiction do you love the most and why?
3) What belief do you try to convey through your blog, explicitly or implicitly?
4) What dangerous thing do you dream of doing, if only you had the courage?
5) If you could live your life over, what one decision would you change, knowing what you know now?
6) Do you believe there is life in other galaxies?
7) Who is your favourite comic actor and what do you love about him/her?
8) Which book have you re-read the most?
9) If you could learn and master a new skill, what would it be?
10) Which real historical character do you most admire?
11) If you could live and work in any city in the world aside from where you are, which one would you choose?
My eleven tagged bloggers are:
1) Karalee @ http://5writers5novels5months.com
2) Christine @ http://christine-ashworth.com
3) Gretchen @ http://gretchenkwing.wordpress.com
4) Maggie @ http://maggieamada.com
5) Karen @ http://KarenMcfarland.com
6) Kim @ http://KimCleary.com
7) Lynn @ http://lynnkelleyauthor.wordpress.com
8) Jason @ http://JasonAndrewBond.com
9) Connie @ http://stilettosstoliandscribbles.wordpress.com/
10) Arthur @ http://arthurcrandon.com
11) YOU
[Are we connected on Twitter yet? If not, why not? Let’s get sharing – find me at @Mary Ann Clarke Scott.]
Writing is a solitary affair, as many have noted before. And, ironically, filmmaking is a highly collaborative effort, although often screenwriters are excluded from the process once the screenplay has received its final edits. This past weekend I participated in an innovative, collaborative INTENSE workshop for screenwriters that involved a talented group of actors as well. This connection proved to be a unique and fascinating education for all of us. The more we got involved, the more our work resembled play. And when your work feels like play, you know you’re on the right track.
The workshop, called The Ring Screenwriting Intensive, was developed and taught by Michael St. John Smith of McIlroy & Associates of Vancouver, an experienced actor and screenwriter. The three day workshop covered both the basics and many unique, in depth techniques for screenwriters to learn and hone their craft. Scenes written during the workshop were then cast and read by actors also participating in training workshops. Bringing together these two groups is both innovative and extremely valuable. As I mentioned, they don’t often work together, and yet there is so much to benefit both when they can begin to see how the others think and work, not the least of which is a larger understanding and respect for the skills and discipline of each group. Working face to face with actors and having them bring your written words to life, all in the matter of a couple of days, is at once terrifying, validating, exhilarating and humbling. A writer immediately realizes that locked away in their solitary writing studio, they cannot achieve a completely realized project without a deeper understanding of what others with talent and specialized skills will bring to it once it leaves their hands. One is left with a sense of both renewed confidence and also humility.
Energy levels were very high all weekend, and although drained by the end, I felt an almost euphoric energy both within myself and in the room as this collection of creative, talented and passionate writers worked through exercises, viewed film clips, shared ideas, sharpened their pencils and immersed themselves in storytelling. It was electrifying. Afterwards, as the workshop wound down, it was clear we were already feeling a sense of withdrawal from the intimate community of minds and personalities that we’d forged in such a short time.
Fortunately, The Ring workshop is new, and so its developers, Michael and Andrew, are very open to input regarding improvements, further developments and platforms to allow this fledgling community of writers to be sustained. Walking away at the end of the weekend, I can say I have a healthy appetite for more of the same, and a strong desire to ensure this community lives on and thrives. There is no excuse for sitting in your writing studio alone and cut off from the world when a community of writers and others can so energize and empower your work. Besides that it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I strongly recommend The Ring workshop for those in the Vancouver area, but regardless go out and find like-minded individuals with whom to share your ideas and passion. There’s nothing better.
Have you had a similarly empowering experience? In the comment section below, tell me about your experiences working with other writers or actors to develop your craft, or a similar experience in a different field.
Recently I realized there’s a definite pattern to the books that I’ve been writing. In some ways I suppose it’s obvious, but since it’s quite unintentional, it kind of caught me by surprise.
The female protagonists, and often the males as well, in at least two of my novels, and probably another three that I’ve outlined, are adults in their mid-thirties to early fourties, and who have, for one reason or another, chosen to put their energies into their career at the expense of finding love. Sometimes their single-minded focus on their careers is related to their backstory– something that happened to them in their family of origin or in their youth. Sometimes their avoidance or downplaying of love in their lives is due to their commitment to their career, but often to their backstory as well. Sometimes committment is the issue.
These things tend to get muddled together, and often there are issues characters don’t want to admit to or confront. Personally, I think this makes for interesting values-in-conflict story-telling, just like Randy Ingermanson recently wrote.
When it comes to career, we’re talking about identity. For modern working women, this is a complicated issue. I discuss this a bit in the Essay elsewhere on my website entitled: What is it about romance? I also think that this pattern is not uncommon, and that not all women talk openly about this issue with their friends. Men possibly not at all. For a serious, career-driven woman to admit that she is looking for love seems like a cop-out. It’s something that should “just happen” but never take one’s attention away from the all-important career. It feels like they are pandering to outmoded “fairy tales” from the past. Perhaps today, with internet dating sites, the whole “mate searching” problem has become more open and explicit than it was in my day. Even if women are open about wanting to find love as well as have their career, I think it remains a challenge for modern women to be comfortable with the idea that they place importance on finding true love without feeling like their identity as a professional woman is somehow compromised, or that they will be perceived as not “serious.”
Identity in conflict with a character’s essence is how Michael Hauge talks about the character arc in a plot. It reminds me of Maureen Murdock’s writing in The Heroine’s Journey. It differs significantly from The Hero’s Journey in that for men, there is only the quest. For women, there is both the quest and the hearth–the desire and need to nurture and have a family. Perhaps these two goals have always been in conflict for women through the ages, but the Feminist movement brought it into the light. I happen to think that in these Post-feminist times (and I mean that like Post-Modernism, the Feminism hasn’t gone away, we’re just living in the historical wake of a huge societal change) the challenge is all the greater because each successive generation of women openly discuss the rights we’ve come to expect less and less. So much is taken for granted, that I think individual women often struggle alone to come to terms with these conflicting values without the rhetoric to guide them.
In Murdoch’s view, the Heroine’s Journey is not linear, but rather circular, or perhaps spiral. A woman may begin the journey by rejecting the “mother” and embracing the strong “masculine” role for herself, but she cannot attain her ultimate essence until she takes a little detour down to the underworld of the primal Earth mother, embraces her essential feminine, and returns, having discovered the source of her own power. Only then can she come to terms with her own mother, internalize the strong male and emerge empowered as her true feminine self, as both a “warrior” and a “mother” figure (whether or not she in fact is or becomes a mother). (My sincere apologies to Maureen Murdoch if I’ve completely mangled her ideas in my attempt to distill and condense them here.) This “coming to terms with the essential power of the feminine” brings to mind the re-told stories of Clarissa Pinkola Estes in her Women Who Run with the Wolves. There’s a Jungian link between these two writers, so the connection is no accident. In any event, the journey is a bit more complicated for women. Murdoch suggests that any given woman may be stuck at, or experiencing, a particular place along this path, which raises certain issues and puts particular challenges before our heroine.
This is how I envision my heroines. Depending upon their individual story, I try to keep in mind what challenge they most need in order to take the next step toward their own happy ending, and find a way for that to happen in my stories. You may or may not recognize Murdoch’s Jungian stages in my stories, but they definitely help me trace each of my heroine’s journeys.