Second Mondays of every other month I devote to my writing workshop students and anyone else interested in creative writing. Welcome! > For the archive of workshop posts click here.
Please note: The end of March 2022 marks the 16th anniversary of this blog, after which point, until further notice, I will be posting approximately two Mondays a month. The posts on Texas Books, the writing workshop, my own work, and a Q & A with another writer, will continue, each posting every other month and, as ever, when there is a fifth Monday in a given month, that’s for the newsletter.
“I say literary memoir-writing is not navel gazing, or conceit, or prostitution, but an offering of truth in a world gone hazy about it. I say we all have a right to our own stories, our own versions of the truth, and the more versions we have the richer we are.”
Ted Conover’sImmersion: A Writer’s Guide to Going Deep is an invaluable guide for any writer who wants to go undercover (and don’t we all, at least a little bit, sometimes?) Conover is the author of several works of unsettlingly original anthropological literary reporting / memoirs of immersion, among them, Coyotes,Whiteout, and Newjack.
“A writer came up to me recently after I gave a talk and asked, ‘When you do these immersions, can you be yourself?’
“Yes, I said. Yes, because who can you be besides yourself?”
— Ted Conover, Immersion
“The best immersive researchers are probably those attentive to social cues, people who are reasonably social and reasonably self-aware. My operating philosophy is that many people are frightened of strangers, so the first thing you want to be is nonthreatening. You want to try to fit in. If you are young and have body piercings and tattoos and hope to sit in on a meeting of your great aunt’s chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution, consider leaving studs and hoops at home and covering some of your skin.” — Ted Conover, Immersion
*
I welcome your courteous comments which, should you feel so moved, you can email to me here.
In this age of Instagram and Tripadvisor & etc. etc. etc. it would seem that increasingly fewer people have the interest, never mind the attentional focus, for literary travel memoir. But readers of this genre were always a tiny minority of the general population. I say, on this planet of billions of people, there will always be a good number of people who read, and read insatiably, seriously, broadly, and deeply. Ergo, we can be sure that someone somewhere will be writing something about someplace, and some number of these works, however small, will undoubtedly be read by some intelligent and thoughtful someone.
I write literary travel memoir and, on occasion, I teach a workshop on that genre, so when, as part of my reading for my book in-progress on Far West Texas, I came across cultural historian David M. Wrobel’s superb Global West, American Frontier, apart from its helping me get my mind around “Texas,” I felt moved to make a few notes on what he has to say about this oft-undervalued literary genre. Dear writerly reader, may you may find these quotes as heartening as I did.
“The travel book remained a key genre throughout the twentieth century, and still is today. In the early twenty-first century, when it is possible to fly to nearly anywhere in the world within a day and to travel virtually anywhere via the Internet, a quaint, old-fashioned printed companion remains surprisingly popular. A distinctive hybrid of the fiction and nonfiction forms, of reflection and reportage, of anthropology, history, and literature, still serves as an essential accompaniment for actual travel or provides core background reading for a journey.” (pp. 5-6)
“The truly gifted and valuable travel writers are, I would venture, the ones who come to realize that they are not just traveling through other landscapes but through the landscapes of other people’s lives; they are visitors who care to learn what a place means to the people who live there.” (p.13)
“[T]he travel narrative form has remained an important guide to western America even as new technological developments have compressed space and rendered the most faraway places more readily accessible. For this reason, the travel book can be deemed an unlikely survivor in the digital age.” (p.17)
“The travel book lives on, oblivious to the assumption that its time should long since have passed.” (p.187)
“The real authenticity or value of the genre surely lies in the expansiveness of the vision of its practitioners. This is why the travel book has persisted for nearly two centuries since its death was first announced and for more than three-quarters of a century since its demise was dramatically reproclaimed, and why today it seems as vital as ever, even though getting to almost anywhere in the world in next to no time at all is now more a chore than a challenge. The ease of travel does not restrict the vision of the obervant travel writer in the postmodern age any more than the difficulty of travel guaranteed smart observation in the premodern or modern periods.” (p.187)
“It is the ability of the traveler to experience and reflect on what is encountered along the way that is most important.” (p.187)
-David M. Wrobel, Global West, American Frontier
#
PS I would consider these among the best of the genre:
See also the Q & A’s here on Madam Mayo blog with the brilliant Shelley Armitage (Walking the Llano); Bruce Berger (A Desert Harvest, etc.); and Sara Mansfield Taber (Bread of Three Rivers, etc).
Without exception Taber’s works are superb, wondrous, must-reads for anyone who would explore the world from an armchair– and for anyone who would write their own. There is so much to relish and to learn from Taber’s daring, her mastery of the craft, her ability to see the most telling particulars, and the exquisite, sensuous beauty of her prose.
Based just outside Washington DC, Taber is also a long-time writing teacher, currently leading workshops both privately and at the Writer’s Center (Bethesda MD) and elsewhere. And now, for both her workshop students and for those at a distance, who cannot take her workshop, just out from Johns Hopkins University Press, and with lovely illustrations by Maud Taber-Thomas, we have Sara Mansfield Taber’s Chance Particulars: A Writer’s Field Notebook.
I was honored to have been asked to contribute a blurb:
“Sara Mansfield Taber’s Chance Particulars is at once a delicious read and the distilled wisdom of a long-time teacher and virtuoso of the literary memoir. Her powerful lessons will give you rare and vital skills: to be able to read the world around you, and to read other writers, as a writer, that is, with your beadiest conjurer’s eye and mammoth heart. This is a book to savor, to engage with, and to reread, again and again.” – C.M. Mayo
The following Q & A is reprinted from her publisher’s website (Johns Hopkins University Press):
Q: Why did you decide to write this book?
SARA MANSFIELD TABER: So that writers of any stripe—from travelers, to bloggers, to journal-keepers, to memoirists, essayists, and journalists—will know just what to note down so as to paint rich and vivid pictures of people and places, and create a lively record of their experiences in and responses to the world.
Q: What were some of the most surprising things you learned while writing/researching the book?
SARA MANSFIELD TABER: The writing of the book allowed me to put on all my hats—literary journalist, anthropologist, memoirist, essayist, journal-keeper, and traveler—and draw together in one place all that I have learned, from those various fields, about keeping a lively field notebook. Writing the book let me re-live the pleasure of field-notebook keeping and also offer the prodigious pleasure of the habit to others. It is a way to get to live your life twice.
Q: What do you hope people will take away from reading your book?
SARA MANSFIELD TABER: A sense of exhilaration—to stride out into the world, to experience it fully and observe it closely, and then to write about that world with all the richness and color they can muster.
Check out the trailer for Sara Mansfield Taber’s Chance Particulars:
It reminds me of how gallery owners complain that customers (more often lookyloos) don’t know “gallery etiquette.” It’s the same with nonwriters and writers. Nonwriters usually mean well when they ask a writer, “So how’s the book doing?” Though alas, this is often followed by the more knife-like, “How many books have you sold?”
Uyyy doubly rude…
What they don’t realize is that (in most instances) this is akin to asking someone who was just turned down for a long overdue promotion, or maybe even fired, “So how much do you make?” because, as Sara Taber so eloquently points out, the book is almost never doing as well as its author had hoped it would, and for most literary books earnings tend to hover well below the level at which one might cobble together a non-food-stamps-worthy living. Furthermore, publishers report sales with such a long lag, a writer never really knows her overall sales numbers at any given moment.
Herewith some of my favorite replies (and if you’re an author with a book out, may they serve you):
(With a wink): I’m getting away with it… How about you? (This is thanks to Paul Graybeal of Marfa’s Moonlight Gemstones, by the way.)
(Breathily, Nancy Reaganqesque): Why my dear, that’s like asking a woman her age! How have you been?
(Beaming, ready-to-judo): Oh, great! It’s been such fun! You know, I think everyone should write a book. Do you have a book you’d like to write?
(Shrugging, Jimmy Fallonesque): Well, I haven’t moved full-time onto my yacht– yet. But thanks for asking. How are you?
(Sweetly smiling): Not nearly enough. Would you like to buy one . . . or 6 for your friends? (Thanks to Julia Bricklin for this one)
(Gleaming stare, revealing teeth): Sooooo verrrrrrrry welllllllll… in fact… my doctor has been able to… reduce my meds… (Continue staring silently for three beats…) Just kidding! How are you?
Notice, the trick is to lob that conversational ball back into their court. Unless you might have something aside from your book to offer them, for instance:
Won-der-fully! Thanks for asking! Oh, and by the way, I’ll be doing an event at the bookstore next Thursday at 6 pm, it would be wonderful if you could come!
Great! Oh, and by the way, if it works for your book group / workshop / class, I’d be delighted to come talk about the book!
The thing is, I don’t think most people asking these rude questions have any idea they’re being rude; I doubt they care all that much about one’s answer; they’re just asking out of innocent curiosity, to show enthusiasm, usually, and as casually as an acquaintance might ask about your kids (whom they don’t know), or your kitchen remodeling project, or even just chat about the weather (get any of that hail?).
Some who ask the rude question really do care, they do mean well– why, they’re delighted to know a real-live published author! For those folks, the “I’m getting away with it,” or “wonderfully, thanks for asking!” works fine.
But then there are those, usually with a toe in the publishing business, or ambitious to write / publish themselves–and usually they are men– who persist with the outrageous, “What was your print run?” (Yes, this has happened to me several times.)
Well, I say, bless ’em. Because they need blessing. I answer, “You know, I have no idea. I am so busy with my next book… ” and when they insist (yikes, some of them do), “What do you mean, you don’t know what was the print run?” I put on the Scarlett O’Hara:
“Why, golly gee, numbers just go in one ear and out the other.”
Or, to be a little more nose-in-the-air-y:
“Nowadays, you know, it’s almost all POD… print-on-demand.”
When a writer has spent several years working on a book she has more emotion invested in it than the casual reader would guess. So if it’s another writer who is asking and your book is doing splendidly, why rub in the salt? (327,583 as of last Tuesday! Take that!) Or, more likely, since your book isn’t selling anything like Dan Brown’s latest, why make your neighbor (oh, say, like the divorce lawyer with the car wash franchise who is going to write a novel “one day”) view you with head-shaking pity?
It’s NOTB, none of their business, they shouldn’t ask such questions, but they do, so… So what?
Dear writerly reader, why not consider “the question” an opportunity to practice your charmfest of impromptu dialogue writing skills?
“why not consider ‘the question’ an opportunity to practice your charmfest of impromptu dialogue writing skills?“
But I don’t find writing a “humiliation banquet,” quite the contrary. I am grateful that I have the skill and (most days) focus to write and that, in one way or another, my work finds readers. I’m always happy to see more royalties but I don’t measure my success as a writer by numbers alone. A single reader who approaches my work in a spirit of respect and intellectual curiosity, and to whom my book makes a meaningful difference, is worth more to me than 10,000 readers who just want a beachside page-turner.
(Bless you all who write beachside page-turners! May you all live happily ever after on your yachts! But I don’t read such books and wouldn’t have the wherewithal to write one, and anyway, even if I had a hundred bagilliwillion bucks, I couldn’t be bothered with a yacht. To start with, I’d have to deal with the yacht dealer, and then I’d have to decide on the floor plan, and then the upholstery, and then engine specifications, and then I’d have to staff it, and then I’d have to insure it… my God, I am falling into a dead snore just thinking about it!)
So how, with book sales presumably well under 327,583 as of last Tuesday, does one make a living as a writer? All I can say is, if you want to make a living writing literary books you’ll need to be (a) wildly lucky (b) incorrigibly persistent (c) exuberantly productive (d) more hard-headed than a rhino in a steel helmet inside a Panzer tank and (e) totally flummoxed by shopping (except for books, of course). And by the way, most literary writers don’t make a living from their books but from teaching, freelancing, editing, and/or other work / income.
The “humiliation banquet” comes with the promotion part… and for that, thank goodness for the vast and ever-growing literature on sports psychology!!
P.S. Check out my Conversations with Other Writers podcast, an interview with Sara Mansfield Taber about Born Under an Assumed Name, her fascinating and beautifully written memoir about growing up with a father who was an undercover CIA agent.
“Whenever someone asks me how much money I make from my writing or how many books I’ve sold, I have two responses, one of which I use when I feel like they’re serious and really interested in why anyone would write for a living, and the other of which is designed to flip the question back at them. The first is, ‘My freelance article work, teaching, and speaking make a small but comfortable living. My books are my passion projects, and I write them to change the world, not to earn a living or become famous.’ With this response, I’m inviting the questioner into a conversation about why we do the work we do, and whether our work lives up to the values we profess to hold.
“The second response is for those people who I don’t think are up for a serious conversation: I say, ‘You go first: How much money do you make?’ That usually shuts down the conversation right away. I think people are curious about making art for living, and in my experience from teaching writing workshops for a couple of decades, a lot of men think of writing as a way to earn some income in retirement. Which is so not the point of why I write!”
