Buzz, Balls & Hype

THE DOCTOR IS IN

Resisting the Urge to Create, Seriously

My improvisation teacher, Joe, frequently includes in his directions for an exercise, "Don't get creative with this." He also tells us not to think, and cautions us against planning ahead.

He's not encouraging us to be dull, stupid and chaotic. He is helping us to recognize that art is often served by paring away artifice, rather than erecting elaborate structures.

In one memorable exercise, he had each of us reach into an imaginary bag and pull out an object, which we then had to use. The catch was that we were not allowed to decide beforehand what the object would be. "Just stick your hands in, and see what positions and relation they're in when they come up. Then you'll know what the object is." This was much more difficult than it probably sounds, but it really worked--when I was able to clear my mind of preconceptions and performance pressure, and simply trust in the moment, I was able to "see" my objects clearly and use them in dynamic ways.

Last week, I took a workshop in musical improvisation in which the teacher discouraged us from making up melodies. Instead, he said, the trick is to find the melody that is already there. Again, testing this out entailed a leap of faith, but the results felt miraculous--and also solid and real. He told us about an improvisational actor/singer who is much admired in that world, and whom "everyone" loves to work with because scenes with her come to blazing life. "What's amazing about her," he said, "is that when she makes a choice, your reaction is never, 'Wow, that was brilliant; I could never have thought of that!' Instead, it's, "Duh, that's so obvious; why didn't I think of that?"

Then, a few days ago, I went to hear my friend Susanne Kessler, who is currently visiting artist in residence at John Jay College, talk about her work. Lately, Susanne has focused on "site-specific"conceptual art. She engages to create a work in a given space, without a preconceived idea of what it will look like or what the theme should be. "When I experience the site," she said, "the nature of what the work must be becomes clear to me."

I have been thinking about all of this, of course, in terms of my writing. How often do I "get creative" to solve a problem rather than searching the characters and situation to discover the answer that is already there? How often do I miss real, obvious beauty and truth because I am stuck on a clever idea? I am trying to learn from all of these great teachers to become a better, and humbler, artist.

Susan O'Doherty, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist with a New York City-based practice. A fiction writer herself, she specializes in issues affecting writers and other creative artists. She is the author of Getting Unstuck without Coming Unglued: A Woman's Guide to Unblocking Creativity (Seal, 2007). Her Career Coach column appears every Monday on Inside Higher Ed's Mama, Ph.D. blog, and she is a regular guest panelist on Litopia After Dark. Send your questions to her at Dr.Sue at mindspring dot com. 

THE DOCTOR IS IN

PERCEPTION AND PUBLISHING, PART 2

Every year when MJ posts Oprah’s male-dominated book club picks, she adds the caveat, “I'm not suggesting affirmative action here. I never am. I don't believe in it.” 

I do believe, strongly, in affirmative action, but I don’t see how it could work in publishing, which is, in essence, a popularity contest. It’s not like athletics, or surgery, in which there are clear markers of excellence. Your book is considered a success if either influential people think well of it, or a lot of regular people want to buy it. So if the consensus among experts is that ten men, and no women, have written superior books this year, or if readers are racing to buy books by white authors but not by authors of color, how can you argue with that? The cognoscenti and the public have spoken, and the publishers are just following suit, right? Maybe some groups are just naturally better writers than others. 

Well, no. There are the matters of preconception and presentation. Last week I wrote about erroneous assumptions people make based on shaky evidence. This happens in art, as well. 

For example, until the 1970s, woman musicians were relatively rare in prominent orchestras. There were widespread assumptions about women’s lack of ability/dedication/confidence, which weren’t seriously challenged until orchestras began conducting “blind” auditions—in which applicants were identified by numbers rather than names, and played while hidden from sight behind a screen. Then the numbers of women accepted into orchestras began to climb significantly. 

In the past, women novelists could write under male pseudonyms in order to be taken seriously. George Eliot, George Sand, the Bells, Isak Dinesen, and James Tiptree, Jr. only “came out” (or were outed) after their work had achieved some success. And as Samuel Delany points out,

We know of dozens upon dozens of early pulp writers only as names: They conducted their careers entirely by mail—in a field and during an era when pen-names were the rule rather than the exception. Among the “Remmington C. Scotts” and the “Frank P. Joneses” who litter the contents pages of the early pulps, we simply have no way of knowing if one, three, or seven or them—or even many more—were not blacks, Hispanics, women, native Americans, Asians, or whatever. Writing is like that.

Of course, that sort of anonymity is no longer possible, now that writers are expected to also be publicists. (And creating a male persona to perform this function for you tends to backfire; just ask Laura Albert.) 

Yes, I know, Gay Girl in Damascus and “Paula Brooks.” But honestly, had you ever heard of these people before “Amina” was “kidnapped”? Me, neither. 

Susan O'Doherty, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist with a New York City-based practice. A fiction writer herself, she specializes in issues affecting writers and other creative artists. She is the author of Getting Unstuck without Coming Unglued: A Woman's Guide to Unblocking Creativity (Seal, 2007). Her Career Coach column appears every Monday on Inside Higher Ed's Mama, Ph.D. blog, and she is a regular guest panelist on Litopia After Dark. Send your questions to her at Dr.Sue at mindspring dot com. 

 

 

ITW and self publishing - its own books and others

 

I have been tyring to post this at Joe Konrath's blog for 24 hours and sent it to him asking him to post it but its not showing up - so here's a response to just one part of a very heated discussion at his blog about MWA. ITW comes up several times and the facts about what we do and have done are not all correct - so here are the right facts.

I am not speaking for the ITW board here but I am a past ITW board member who has been involved in our publishing program and would like to clarify some points that have been raised.

 

ITW does not make all its money on books published traditionally.

 

In fact, we were actually self publishing before either Joe or LeeJ

 

In 2008, ITW did a unique publishing deal with Audible – breaking ground with The Chopin Manuscript – an original audio book which went on to win the Audio Book of the Year award for 2008.

 

 

ITW self published the ebook of Chopin in July of that year.

 

We are listed as the publisher on the Amazon web site and have been all along.  And we till make money on that book – the audio as well as the ebook version.

 

We also did a second original audio book, The Copper Bracelet, again with Audible. Both Chopin and Copper are unique publishing programs very important to ITW as creative endeavors and sources of income.

 

Also MIRA is only one of the traditional publishers ITW works with. We've also worked with Dutton for the YA anthology, ST. Martins for the debut anthology as well as Vanguard who went on to publish Chopin/Cooper in the print versions.

 

Lastly, as a self published ebook author (I did it back in 1998 when it was very unfashionable) it was critical to me as well as other ITW board members that we not exclude self pubbed authors out of hand.  Any one can absolutely apply. 

 

Writer's 7 Deadly Sins

Therese Walsh - whose book The Last Will of Moria Leahy - I loved!!! - has a must read post about Writer's 7 Sins - (and I'd think it was must read even if she didn't include some of my quotes.)

THE DOCTOR IS IN

PERCEPTION AND PUBLISHING

Last week a client who is a successful novelist described an incident in which she entered a high-end clothing boutique prepared to buy several items and left with nothing, because the saleswomen behaved as though she were invisible. More stylish-looking patrons were helped right away, so presumably my client was ignored because of her appearance--i.e., she looks like a regular person, not a socialite.

We discussed the demoralizing effect of being rendered invisible, and compared it to having a novel rejected. In both cases, we agreed, the rejection is not merit-based, but instead the result of a commercial calculation: whether the novel is marketable; whether a potential customer is likely to spend enough money to make it worth the salesperson's while. And the calculation can easily be erroneous, as in the case of my client.

"On the other hand," she observed, "they probably would have waited on you." Then she paused. "Unless they happened to look at your shoes."

I had to laugh. The shoes I was wearing are, indeed, cheap-looking. I never spend a lot on clothes generally, but I usually look all right because I'm lucky enough to live in a neighborhood where it's possible to pick up good-quality clothing at tag sales and thrift shops for next to nothing. I'm a little squidgy about wearing pre-owned shoes, though, so I tend to frequent discount shoe stores, and it shows.

But it's a funny thing about those shoes. I bought them last summer at a cheap shoe emporium in a town in Maine that has quite a bit of cachet. This is because I was staying with my friend Beth at her family's camp in a nearby town, and the shoes I had brought got ruined, so we stopped off to replace them.

A few weeks ago, I was out with Beth when we ran into an acquaintance of hers who also summers in Maine, and they started talking about the great shopping in the town near Beth's camp. As a way of drawing me into the conversation, Beth said, "in fact, that's where Sue bought those shoes!"

Her acquaintance, who was beautifully dressed and coiffed, examined my $12.99 shoes and, without hesitation, exclaimed, "They're exquisite!"

I have some thoughts about how all this relates to gender/race issues in book publishing, but it's too hot to articulate them, so I'm going to the beach instead. More next week.

Susan O'Doherty, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist with a New York City-based practice. A fiction writer herself, she specializes in issues affecting writers and other creative artists. She is the author of Getting Unstuck without Coming Unglued: A Woman's Guide to Unblocking Creativity (Seal, 2007). Her Career Coach column appears every Monday on Inside Higher Ed's Mama, Ph.D. blog, and she is a regular guest panelist on Litopia After Dark. Send your questions to her at Dr.Sue at mindspring dot com. 

THE DOCTOR IS IN

Flipping the Switch

One of the many gifts associated with posting here is the opportunity to meet fascinating people I would probably not encounter otherwise.

About a year ago, when I was taking a monologue class, I wrote about working on the character of Mother Theresa from a hilarious (and serious) play by Laurel Haines, The Dianalogues. I was thrilled to get an email from Laurel herself, responding to some of my thoughts. We have emailed sporadically since then, and tried on several occasions to meet, but we both are overbooked and it was hard to find a mutually convenient date.

We finally met for lunch yesterday, and the experience was worth waiting a year for.

At one point, the conversation turned to creative blocks. Laurel described an extended dry period she had gone through several years ago. She had lost her enthusiasm for writing, she said; she would begin a project, lose steam, and abandon it. What had once been a joyous experience of imaginative expression had become, inexplicably, a dreaded exercise in drudgery.

How did she start writing well again? I asked.

She belonged to a writers' workspace. Some of the other members were successful novelists. She started watching them as they worked--and realized that the secret lay in exactly that: they were working. "I was sitting there being a diva, waiting for inspiration, while they were producing." She committed to finishing two plays she had abandoned, and in the process rediscovered her sense of play and love for her vocation.

I voiced some concern about this "method" of overcoming a creative block. I used to have a writing job that I loathed, I explained. Every day I had to steel myself to churn out drek that I didn't care about and, sometimes, violently disagreed with. It completely sapped my desire to write anything at all. After I finally left, it took me over a year to clean out my system sufficiently to try writing my own stuff again.

"I'm not talking about beating myself up, or forcing myself to churn out a certain number of words a day," she said. "It was more about engaging with the material and trusting that if I just kept working, things would start happening again." And they did, brilliantly.

Afterward, I thought about Stanislavsky's admonition to "love the art in yourself, not yourself in the art." I imagine that what flipped the switch for Laurel was the commitment to focus on the plays themselves, rather than on herself as playwright. This is of course much easier to talk about than to actually accomplish, and I'm filled with admiration.

Susan O'Doherty, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist with a New York City-based practice. A fiction writer herself, she specializes in issues affecting writers and other creative artists. She is the author of Getting Unstuck without Coming Unglued: A Woman's Guide to Unblocking Creativity (Seal, 2007). Her Career Coach column appears every Monday on Inside Higher Ed's Mama, Ph.D. blog, and she is a regular guest panelist on Litopia After Dark. Send your questions to her at Dr.Sue at mindspring dot com.