In planning my approach and questions for my upcoming interview series, Under the Covers: Close and Personal with Six Hot Authors, I thought a lot about writers and our place in the world.
Above all else, writers—by which I mean those who complete and publish work with some consistency, not the scribbler who never actually finishes anything—are generally some of the most interesting people you’re likely to meet. They’re invariably intelligent, often painfully so. They read compulsively and omnivorously. They think all the time, typically about things that others don’t. They spend a lot of time looking deep into the human mind and heart, often into the darker corners that most of us shy away from. And though it may not be apparent to most people, writers work hard: the creation of a book from nothing takes monumental effort. It’s like building a house from the ground up. Alone.
This doesn’t make writers better people than others. It certainly doesn’t make them easy people to live with (ask any writer’s partner), although there’s bound to be the occasional exception to the rule. As a class, we’re often shy and introverted; but when talkative, our unrelenting curiosity can prompt us to ask the most personal questions of a complete stranger. Like a doctor, the writer is used to spending time probing people’s insides (in our case, their heads and hearts), and consequently is liable to just ignore convention and social niceties to get to the point.
Writers live in their heads. We spend a lot of time staring at walls. Life circumstances permitting, we’re often unproductive for long periods, then burn like an acetylene torch for a period of weeks or even months. Insomnia is a common thread; doubt and insecurity too. But for all their apparent brittleness, the seasoned writer is a very resilient creature: those that aren’t, break.
The staring at walls can, in my experience, be active or passive. When it’s active, it’s ideation, picture painting, world and character development, plotting, intense thought; when passive (though nothing a working writer does is really passive, it just looks that way), the writer is doing the delicate and intuitive work maintenance work on the connection with their subconscious, keeping the channel dredged and clear so that upwelling material can flow unimpeded into the conscious mind, from which it can be shaped and find its way onto the page.
One of the hardest things for many writers—and in my opinion one of the most important—is to remember to get out and spend time in the world. Quite apart from the need to maintain one’s physical health by walking and exercising, time spent out of doors, walking and looking around and talking to people, recharges and replenishes us, especially when we make a regular time for it; that way it becomes a routine part of our day, a scheduled and welcome break rather than an annoying interruption to our work.
In formulating my questions for the six writers in my Under the Covers project, I considered what was known publicly, who their audience is, and their body of writing. I read some of their work that I hadn’t before, re-read some pieces I had, and looked up some prior interviews they’d done, paying especial attention to the frequently asked questions as well as the missed opportunities and cues. An interview which just recycles bio information or facts you can find in a Wikipedia entry or Amazon author page isn’t much good to anyone. I want to know what makes these writers tick, what made them who they are, what makes them pause and think hard, what makes them laugh, what saddens them.
Whether I succeeded or not you’ll have to judge for yourself. I’ve certainly learned a lot about each of these authors, and am now even more interested in each than I was before. I have enormous respect for each and every one of them. Whether this is your first introduction to these authors or you’re already a hardcore fan, I hope you find reading this series as interesting as I did putting it together.
Under the Covers: Close and Personal with Six Hot Authors begins on Saturday March 5.