We could start a whole line of Story Club Tees: "The divided self is a two-headed dog" “Join the Thematic Notion Generation!” “What else is in that thought bubble?” (under an empty thought bubble.) And so on. What fun!
Love it! How about the ever existential "Where am I now?" with one of those colorful random pick circles labeled: Joyful!, Confused, Curious, Scared, LOL, ... etc.
Let me edit the listings and see what I can do - I will likely have to make a white ink on black option for the dog(s) version. I’ll post a link here when it’s up.
I encourage everybody to provide constructive criticism, their own requests, and personal designs.
I’m happy to forward all proceeds to the substack scholarship fund. Let me know if this is okay. I’m also happy to take it down if I’m … barking up the wrong tree.
I love these so much! Wonderful inspiration. I have one suggestion, though: Please offer women's T-shirts. The men's T-shirts are not, in reality, "unisex." If you do, I will buy!
This method of study, taking a small chunk of primary text and then digging deeply into the meaning and implications held within it, and doing it together with a bunch of people commenting around it in the margins of the primary text, feels sort of Talmudic. There's a Hebrew word, Chevrutah, which translates as the connection between study partners, or friendship, or companionship, and some might say that holiness is found in that connection.
If we accept that time is an illusion, and the current moment, the now, is infinite, then it becomes easier to be patient and go slowly with this method, and shift our focus to our connection with each other. We can also learn to be better readers and better writers, too. Things go in deeper that are lingered over longer. Thanks, George, for creating this delightful container for us.
Susanna, this comment of yours lights me up. This container George has made (and that we’re all feeding with the quality of our attention) feels like it has a life force of its own already. The word “holiness” makes me want to tunnel in, too, to see what it is, exactly. Feels to me like a special chance offered by life—and, importantly, to complete the circuit, *taken* by the people in range—to see and feel and understand its nature better.
I keep thinking about this wonderful acting class I got to take years ago with a Russian director and acting teacher named Leonid Anisimov, who was visiting Seattle from Vladivostok.
We would workshop scenes from Chekhov plays, going slow, slow, slow.
Leonid spoke almost no English (he had a beautiful translator in class with us named Laura) but there were a couple of words he called out to us regularly while we were onstage working.
“Pause!” (It almost sounded like “pose”, the way he said it. Powse.)
“More pause!”
He wanted us to slow way down because something organic would arise if we stayed present and didn’t try to force responses out of a false haste.
“Pause pause pause!”
And the other word he’d call out to us in English was:
“Astonishment!”
You had to find a reason to be astonished at all times because stories are about something extraordinary.
If we were going dead and dull up there, if we were falling asleep to what was in front of us, we’d hear “Astonishment!”
Leonid only ever had us rehearse in candlelight, too. Electric lights messed up the current of our work, somehow, was the idea. Candlelight has life in it differently.
Anyway, these classes were magical and unforgettable. Holy-feeling. And while we can’t all be in the same room with candlelight here, the feeling in this class and community is similar. Something is extra alive.
What a wonderful story, and what an experience that must have been. I feel like "pause pause pause" is something we should all be saying to ourselves regularly!
That's a great story, Tina, especially so given you were acting Chekhov, one of the same Russian masters that George examines in his recent book on writing. Yes, as that director taught, the pause is the key! Only in practicing that pause can we unhook from our habitual, wrote reactions to a text, or modify our reply in a conversation into something that goes a little bit deeper, that is more honest, compassionate, surprising, dare we say, astonishing! As for the candlelight, Indonesian shadow puppet theater traditionally uses a wick with a flame to illuminate the screen, perhaps because that flickering quality has the movement of breath, of life, in it. It creates a visual shimmering quality, which echoes the tuning of the gamelan instruments and the movement of the dancers in other Indonesian art forms.
What a beautiful side street we’ve gone down, ending up at an Indonesian shadow puppet performance. I love that you brought us there.
Real flames at storytelling time always seem like they put us at some eternal campfire. The bodies around the fire change, the stories change, but it’s just one giant ongoing togetherness.
Makes me think about how writers might curate their working light sources, and how they may switch it up depending on what they’re trying to invoke in their writing.
I agree! I lived in Central Java in the 1980s and went to shadow play performances that lasted from sundown to sun up in the tropical night, people chatting, dosing on blankets, drinking sugary coffee, dipping in and out of the tale - which everyone knew by heart. The clowns puppets - who were really gods - always perked everyone up. The firelight, the gongs, the smell of jasmine, taking a bicycle cab home at dawn - it was so magical. There is something sacred about stories. Thank you Susana and Tina for reminding me of this - I haven’t thought about wayang kulit for years!
For me, this method takes me back in time to how English Literature used to be studied - by very close reading. Or at least - that's how it was in my A-level English class, 1969-70, with Mrs. Brown (who, rumor had it, took a first in English at Oxford). I have never before or since had such a wonderful teacher. I remember her horsy smile and red cheeks and enthusiasm. That's where poetry opened up for me, and amazement sprang out.
My English teacher in 1969-1970, John Murphy, taught me how to read Wharton and James. James's big thick novels. He'd tell us the plot for a couple chapters, then send us home to read them. I don't remember much about what we did after the reading, it didn't matter. I was introduced to a relationship with Henry James and Edith Wharton. It was a life-changing experience.
Holiness. In the connection between friends, companions, others. Time as illusion. The eternal present. I can't begin to count all the ways I love your comment. And the cool way you bring it all back to George for creating a container for thoughts such as these. Thank you!
Howdy all, I'll, (as instructed) refrain from adding my comments about this story, which is new to to me, and just say that I'm going to make an effort to participate in the comments and not just lurk. Like many of us caught up in a love/hate/dependency relationship with the architecture of surveillance capitalism and the attention economy, my vows to "never read the comments" are informed by far too many precious hours spent, well, reading the comments, usually to the detriment of my mood and personal view of our society's short and long-term prospects.
Anyway, since everyone keeps saying this is such a positive place (and I believe them), I'll do my best to get over myself and contribute. A lesson I keep having to relearn is that the perceived risks of connection are almost always revealed to be unimportant, or even imaginary, after I've put myself out there. So hello again!
Hello, Isaac, and welcome aboard. I share your feelings - when I first signed on to Substack I made a personal vow not to read (and get rendered defensive by) the comments - which quickly fell away by seeing how positive and supportive people were being.
Thank you for “coming out.” You are not alone. I am also making an effort to participate fully here. I trusted what George expressed when he offered us this platform, “We’ll find ourselves forming a tight and mutually supportive community.” We are making that happen.
I completely agree and relate, Isaac. Thank you for saying this and inspiring me and it seems a few others. I try to remind myself that I learn more when I contribute. Not that this is a purely selfish exercise - rather it is the exchange which makes life and learning a bit richer.
I'm often overwhelmed by the sheer volume of literature that exists and find myself racing through a book so I can read MORE to get caught up. I realize this defeats the purpose of reading quality literature. My FOMO just causes me miss what I'm trying not to miss! Hopefully these small chunk exercises will help me curb this habit.
George, I've read you practice Nyingma Buddhism. The teacher I follow is Anam Thubten and he is in this tradition. What you are saying about slowing down, noticing with more clarity, watching how our understanding and experience evolves, etc. are very familiar teachings. Thanks for the reminders! This is going to be (it already is!) a lot of fun and very helpful.
Acquiring a good reading habit is one of the best things you can do for your life. The American Economist Tyler Cowen has some fantastic suggestions on wading through that "sheer volume of literature," and I find I use these tips more often than not.
When I was younger and still visiting physical libraries I was invariably struck, as I walked through the door, by a kind anguish. The phrase "So many books, so little time" would boom in my inner world. I would inevitably have to struggle to carry the bookbag home. Now here I am, many decades and about 300 books per year later, and I've imbibed barely a drop in the ocean of sentences out there.
I am often overcome by the generosity of all the writers - fiction and nonfiction - who have allowed me to see the world through their eyes and via their craft. Some have completely changed my life. A big thank you to all the writers of the world.
This makes me think about the other side of the coin — of walking into a bookstore or library and the feeling of hope and excitement. Inside this place, right now, there is a book that if I can just find it, will take me away, somewhere else, wonderful, magical, unforgettable. All seasoned with the frisson of fear that I will pick the wrong book. I will squander the chance and end up with something banal. No matter how many times I might fail, my hope is never lessened.
Brad, I think most of us are in the same boat!, there is simply too much of a good thing out there, that we want to ingest. I guess one page at a time!
What an amazing thing George has put together here...so many of us in the same boat but now we're all here together on an ocean liner with no risk of norovirus!
I hear you. Like many of us, I'm a lifelong voracious reader, and I find that this habit occasionally defeats itself and gets in the way of quality reading. Last year, my mom read 100 books and asked me how many I thought I'd read. I didn't know, and decided to try reading 100 books in 2021. I'm glad I tried it, and while I think I'll continue to track the books I read, I won't try to hit a numerical goal again.
The good: Keeping a list of what I've read has been thought-provoking. It's been interesting to look back and see interests and patterns rise, fall, reoccur, or disappear. And, on good days, it was a spur to me to read instead of waste time online.
The neutral: I've found myself avoiding bigger books and anthologies, more and more as the year wound down, because I wanted to make sure I was on track to reach 100. Obviously, size isn't everything, and it was oddly satisfying sometimes to put off a big book I wanted to read, go to my shelves, and find something shorter I hadn't read yet. A good reminder that what I want is often capricious and arbitrary, and that random or semi-random encounters or prompts to rethink my desires can be as enriching or more enriching than just reading or doing what (I think) I want.
This project also spurred totally meaningless questions that have been a lot of fun to debate with like-minded nerds: do audiobooks count? (I never listened to audiobooks until this year, when I found myself in a job where I spent a lot of time performing repetitive manual labor alone). Should I count one or two books for two novels published together in one volume?
The bad: I've got a bad habit of rushing through the ends of books because I'm so excited to get to the next one. This was exacerbated by the attempt to get to 100.
All that to say, there's a lot of good coming out of Story Club for me already, and a reminder to slow down might be one of the most important.
I've been setting goals of 50 books every year, and still bumping up against the exact problems you describe, especially avoiding longer books and rushing to the end so I can get to the next one. This year, though, I didn't make the goal--or I did, but not by reading new books. I decided to slow down and re-read (and re-read again!) some of the books I've loved, books that are like the one I am trying to write. Reading broadly feels important, both to know the market and to discover something fresh, a new favorite, but we definitely lose something by always thinking about the next book. Neither way is right--it's just about being aware of the trade-offs.
I'm guilty of stacking my reading list with new releases, but when the libraries where I live closed during the early stages of the pandemic, I had to turn to books that were already on my shelves. That slowing down, re-reading old favorites, turned out to be one of the most comforting and pleasurable reading experiences for me. (Now if only there were more time for ALL the books)
It’s really interesting to read you talking about the act of re-reading - I hope you count that among your 50. I’ve been redeveloping the habit of regular book reading and I’ve found it helpful to challenge myself to a number of pages a day - 20, and that’s made me feel better about choosing longer books - but I’ve developed an eagle eye for font sizes… some of those Russian doorstops are also written in like 8-point!
Yup, this all sounds like me. I really have to talk myself into starting monster books. I did make it through "The Count of Monte Cristo" and "East of Eden" this year. As for audiobooks I would personally count them but at the same time feel like it's "being read to" rather than "reading". The information still reaches your brain either way.
And two novels in one volume? You bet I'm counting two novels!
Audio books count. Though reading's clearly a different activity, for long drives or long walks very grateful to audible . Maggie Gyllenhaal's reading of Anna Karinina is amazingly good.
This not reading of the whole story, and then not posting on this thread, is like an adult version of the marshmallow test. Much like the kid who puts the whole marshmallow in his mouth and then takes it out again, I walked over to my bookshelf, grabbed my copy of The Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway, found Cat in the Rain, noticed that I had underlined some stuff (which means that I must have read it in college, years ago) and then put it back, unread.
Love this exercise. It immediately reminded me of a book I read 4 or 5 years ago: What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund. He says "reading is a story of pictures and picturing" and spends much of the book reflecting on the way we imagine characters and settings. Or don't, but think we do. A favorite statement of mine from the book: Words are effective not because of what they carry in them, but for their latent potential to unlock the accumulated experience of the reader. Words 'contain' meaning, but, more important, words potentiate meaning..."
As an example he introduces the word "river" and goes on to say that that single word "contains within it all rivers. . .but more important all my rivers." Which is maybe what makes stories magical. They have a geography, but also continuously remind readers of their own place/s in the world. Of their own idiosyncratic geographies.
Was just watching a flip-through of Mendelsund's book on youtube and there's a page that talks about protention/retention - where, as readers, we simultaneously read a sentence, read ahead a couple of sentences, hold the current sentence in our minds, and try to predict future story events. How apt is that for this exercise of slowing down and focusing on how a single sentence (or short collection of them) sets off a range of diverse reader reactions? Love it.
I love this idea. I think it also rings true when you find yourself taking away different imaginings and interpretations of the same book depending on where you are in life when you read it and in what mood you're starting from...
I think we try to find ourselves in a story. Maybe we place ourselves in a story. I'm just reminded of how I sometimes become so engrossed in a story that I feel almost as if I'm taking a path in another life. Becoming immersed so much is such an escape from all that's going on in reality. More than that actually, you know how you finish a story that you've become so lost in that when it ends, you 'wake-up' with new eyes or even wake up bereft at reaching the conclusion and wanting to dive straight back in again, maybe into that river.....
Hi Scott. I feel this notion of the word "river" "containing within it all rivers... but more important all my rivers" is so powerful. I felt it as I read it. All of these ideas in the comments are washing over us, through us, connecting and changing us. And what power, as a writer, to write the word "river" and bring to mind all the rivers of our readers.
I'm totally there for the Story Club two-headed dog t-shirts.
It was interesting - I love how your next thoughts/questions about the two-headed dog were interior and philosophical (how does it work? who eats first? Divide self or shared experience?), whereas my first reaction was exterior (what are they going to do with these heads and who is going to be terrorised by them?). My instinct is to race to plot, but I like the idea of slowing down and thinking introspectively. Kind of like "The Falls" - you start with a guy that's walking along a river, and rather than ask where is he going? what will he see? what will happen to him on this walk? (my default writing mode), you ask: why is he walking? is he walking fast or slow? is he enjoying the walk?
I like how this gets us closer to character. And then, by understanding character, we can develop a resonant (rather than confected) plot.
But those reactions are great - "What are they going to do with those heads." I mean - that would work, for sure - especially if we alter slightly to "What are they going to do with their heads...right now." :)
I was going to say that I like your way better (It's like you figure out the 'why' first, before tackling the 'what'), but maybe that's just the two dimensions of storytelling as discovery? One begins by defining the object at rest (the status quo of character or situation) and then discovers/introduces the change that will best bring the object out of inertia; and one begins with momentum (the incident) and then discovers what object at rest is best exposed to (and changed by) this action?
I love your reflections on this post.. and it kind of answers my earlier question on when given an image/prompt - how to develop it.. and since George does say .. once we define a character, any inciting incident can act as plot and based on his character, the story can follow...
I need to reread George's posts maybe a couple more times for it to slowly sink into my body.
Thanks Radhika. Your post made me think of something George says about Chekhov - how he doesn't think black or white, but lifts up an idea and examines it from all angles. Maybe the best way to start with a prompt is to explore it first and ask questions (either introspectively (what is it about this thing?) or extrospectively (how will this thing manifest in its environment?)) and then explore the question you find more interesting or more full of interesting possibilities...
(I love how this community and the kinds of discussions had here (that I have never found anywhere else) leads to all sorts of new ideas and insights and reflections. Must be what a writers workshop is like...)
As someone who has been a part of several writing workshops and fine art retreats my experience has been like this: a free flowing democratic exploration of ideas, insights and reflections. It can be messy, slow and full of discussion and compromise... full of questions. Usually, in the workshops I found most helpful, even the "leader/organizer" behaved more like a fellow participant, a fellow questioner. Creative workshops are (usually) the very opposite of the rigid style religious/political hierarchies where one person dictates and every else downstream follows or else. In creative groups there isn't one answer, or only one way...there's room for everyone. Too many places in life, in the United States anyway, model themselves on the rigid hierarchy system style which doesn't easily permit new ideas. So, yes, especially by comparison writing workshops feel open to all sorts of new ideas while trusting that each of us will still find and share our own voice.
Yep, I'm on board with the two headed dog Story Club shirts too. Perhaps one dog head has a collar with a tag saying "reader" and the other head has a collar and tag saying "writer"?
I was, just now, looking around on YouTube for unreleased and alternate recordings from Radiohead and settled on a version of “Pyramid Song” slowed down 800%. It was playing as I read my Story Time email update where you describe the “…radical slowing down of the reading process, so that we can notice with more clarity how its meaning is accumulating and how our understanding of it is evolving.” Inspired by this synchronicity I was thinking of music when I read Hemingway here.
George, I believe it was a talk at Google after the publication of Tenth of December where you mentioned your struggles with a bout of “Hemingway Boner”.
I know what it’s like.
Here’s an interesting article about Soviet scientist Vladimir Demikhov’s two-headed dogs.
Would love to take a dive at some point into a discussion of the singer/songwriter as a story teller. Particularly thinking of Tom Waits one-liners which could be a story or novel in themselves.
I'm digging all the way to China with a silver spoon while the hangman fumbles with the noose.
I'll tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my past.
You know there ain't no devil...there's just God when He's drunk.
How do the angels get to sleep when the devil his porch light on?
Like my favorite writers, I often take breaks from my favorite music only to revisit them later and find new stuff. With Radiohead I’ve changed my favorite LP of theirs several times (it’s currently Hail To The Thief).
As in poetry, fine art, scripture, and even film- I often notice a bit of precognition in my favorite songwriters, like Thom Yorke and Jeff Tweedy, who’s words continue to pay dividends and even, at times, contain symbols and patterns that take on new and larger meaning as times passes.
Radiohead recorded “Ill Wind” in 2016 but kept it off A Moon Shaped Pool and released it officially as a single in January of 2019. The brief lyrics now sound like a response to the pandemic:
Keep your distance
Then no harm will come
No ill wind
Will blow
Will blow
Sudden words
Must never be spoken
All ill wind
Will blow
Will blow
Keep your cool
Do not give into emotion
An ill wind
Will blow
Will blow
I’m now thinking of Owen Barfield’s concepts on using etymology as a type of psychological excavation illuminating “fossils of consciousness”. Both the Hebrew and Greek words for wind, breath, and spirit were one word- ruach and pneuma respectively. The current paradigms and patterns of the pandemic map onto and suggest a spiritual malady- a bad breath/spirit/wind causing a cultural climate change.
"Like my favorite writers, I often take breaks from my favorite music only to revisit them later and find new stuff." This is one of the great joys, isn't it?
Radiohead certainly, but Bob Dylan is a gift that keeps rewarding "exploration" like this. Every 'bootleg' that appears, you could make another album of unfairly good material that's available only to those who wish to dig.
The Beatles have already released much of their "back catalogue." No surprises there. Though we all now have a new appreciation for Paul, I hope after the recent documentaries. But Joni Mitchell and Neil Yonge are just getting started to releasing their "archives."
It just astonishes the creative well these folks can draw from. One of the biggest influences on my own writing has to come from and songwriters, not so much novelists or short story writers.
I hear you. Music, for me, is as good as scripture.
I think the booklet of lyrics that came with my CD copy of Paul Simon’s The Rhythm of The Saints alone is worth the cost of the album. I’ve been going over Wilco lyrics lately, taking lots of notes, and Jeff has loads of language mapping onto gnostic / mystical Christian concepts I find interesting.
Here’s a sample from Theologians, where we get the title of A Ghost Is Born:
“I'm going away
Where you will look for me
Where I'm going you cannot come
No one's ever gonna take my life from me
I lay it down
A ghost is born
A ghost is born
A ghost is born”
In John 10:17-18 Jesus says,
“For this reason the Father loves me: that I lay down my soul, so that I may take it up again. No one has taken it from me; rather I lay it down, and I have power to take it up again; this command I received from my Father.”
These lyrics echo the Gospel of Thomas logia 38 where Jesus says,
“Many times have you desired to hear these words which I am saying to you, and you have no one else to hear them from. There will be days when you will look for me and will not find me.”
And finally, in 1 Corinthians 1:30 Paul tells us Jesus “became wisdom from God, uprightness and sanctification and the fee for emancipation,”
Jeff’s lyrics in Theologians remind of this subtle suggestion in the gnostic-tinged language of John, Paul, and Thomas that we are visited by wisdom (Greek - Sophia) and this wisdom/Sophia is the Ghost (G Host) of someone/something that sacrificed itself and became a Paraclete of truth for us. In Thomas Jesus says his followers will look for him and not find him, seeking his words with futility. I believe this is because they don’t study the poets and songwriters aided by the Ghost.
In George’s recently discussed story The Fall we see Morse, piano re-possessed, making that sacrifice to “lay it down” literally. I see these two narrators of Morse and Cummings as walking through the Bardo, already dead, repeating their grievances, and responding differently to the call for action and sacrifice.
Interestingly, Cummings mentions the archetypally charged number 114 twice. The gospel of Judas Thomas the twin is comprised of 114 logia/sayings. And in John 1:14 the Word is made flesh. The Quran contains 114 surrahs and suggests dying for the cause grants immortality. 1 cycle of 14 days is what it takes to “flatten the curve” of a full moon. In The Falls, Morse and his full blue moon takes action and lays it down to be of service in a selfless act- a kind of love jihad. Cummings will remain in the bardo, perhaps thinking about writing about Morse.
I believe the Ghost is real and we’re in a bardo now. Like Morse, we are called to get our blue moon into shape by taking a swim in a river in the reign. Patterns emerge from inspired words, be them scripture, poetry, or song lyrics because language is at the substrate of creation and that creation is a co-creation.
So yeah- that’s what I think.
I just rented Wonder Boys, the excellent film based on Michael Chabon’s second novel. The central character, an aspiring novelist, James Lear’s debut novel is titled The Love Parade, clipped from a classic 1929 film known as the first feature length film in which the soundtrack songs are incorporated into and reference the film’s narrative. Wonder Boys does the same thing, and features music from Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Neil Young, and my favorite John Lennon song, Watching The Wheels.
Fun fact: The word quarantine comes to us from the 17th century Italian quarantina, meaning 40 days. In the synoptic gospels Christ spends a quarantina in the wilderness battling temptation and finding resolve. It’s the same amount of time Noah spends hunkered down in the Ark and Moses spends on the mountaintop receiving the word.
Perhaps a quarantina in the bardo is a great opportunity to get my ass in shape, go for a swim, be of service to others, and do some writing.
"Daily Mail" was my pandemic anthem for some reason. It just seemed to match my mood. The Ozark episode which featured it was an amazing episode. I still listen to it when I'm feeling distraught and hopeless. It also helped me through the last six month of the 2020 Presidential election when I was absolutely terrified.
Cat In the Rain With Myxomatosis? Oh, wait, that would be Rabbit in the Rain ... anyway, loving this slowly meted-out story analysis. I look forward to the next thought bubble, and the next.
I love that pinned Mahler quote: "If you think you are boring your audience, go slower not faster." Wonder if literature would stand up to that treatment as well?
Someone did this a while back with some of Wagner's music (The Ring Cycle, Tristan und Isolde). Slowed it waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay down until it sounds like Mongolian Throat Music. Great "writing music". I wonder what other artists would benefit from a significant slowdown?
So excited about this — I loved the in depth look at “In the Cart” in A Swim in a Pond. I was thinking of maybe trying to write a story one page at a time as this post moves forward in a kind of reverse engineering that aims to achieve what Hemingway does in the same amount of space. Anything to get me writing…
That's in an interesting exercise, Dan. I've noticed over the years of teaching that people tend to either race to get a first draft done, or go a little at a time, sort of solidifying what's behind them (making it more undeniable). I mix those approaches but mostly use the latter. So, if you notice that you do it one way...might be good to try to the other, once.
I have recently switched from first draft mania to constant restart and building on what I’ve created so far. It’s working much better for me. It means I am moving more slowly but what I have is so much better and informs the future writing more clearly. In the past I’ve just had first drafts that were literally 97% useless. (I calculated how many words of the total I saved when I reread it)
This is nice to hear! I think I've spent a lot of time trying to work against my slowness in writing -- always driven by the feeling that the script needs to get finished, so I can send it to people, so I can get actors in a room, so I can submit, etc etc. Plus the social pressure of having friends who write that way, in a steady, efficient march. Now I'm interested in just embracing the opposite approach. Knowing I can work the beginning as many times as I need to might do away with a lot of my fear about starting my next project.
I hope it works for you. I think that's all it's about in the end. What works for you. And people change over time and one way will suit you better at a different time in life or a different mood.
I’m definitely a Speed Racer, so it’ll be interesting to try out making previous sections “more undeniable.” The only thing that gives me pause is that I can get lost tinkering with the beginning of a story and never reach the end.
I'm working on the Two-Headed Dog concept (see my tiny sketch) and maybe a T-shirt with a Cat Swimming in a Pond in the Rain. Dogs and Cats, infinite possibilities. By the way, I'm thoroughly enjoying slowing down the reading process and studying stories on a granular level with such a master writer and teacher. This is a noble experiment--and so generous on your part.
I love picturing the benevolent reader, one to respect but one who isn't trying to dodge our sure punches just for the sake of dodging.
I'm thinking about the role of the subconscious mind that I've heard you talk about, George, and how much of drafting comes from that place. And then I'm thinking about the P/N meter and this very deliberate, well, thinking, that doesn't seems like the subconscious mind at all. But maybe I'm creating a binary when there isn't a binary. Like, the P/N meter might be about listening to that subconscious mind to get to that sweet spot that addresses expectations but without hitting them so hard on the head that they have a concussion?
I do love these comments. And then, because my Internet time has conditioned me to fear the comments section, I get sheepish about leaving one. Which is the opposite, I suspect, of the mood being established here. Thank you, everyone!
That's a great reflection. I'm also guilty of falling into binary modes - writer vs editor, genre vs literary, plot vs character. But maybe, like most things (including our minds), they aren't dichotomies as much as they are extremes along a spectrum. And, if that's the case, I can imagine the P/N metre as an instrument that can vary wildly in its output depending on where my mind/attention/mood/environment is at.
Yes! I was thinking this morning how fickle my P/N meter can be, or how my "monkey mind" can try to subvert the P/N meter, or let other, not helpful voices interfere with my instincts. And then I was also thinking that my instincts are not immutable absolutes but part of a mind that is forever altering...
That why I love this story club - it's like a (fun) boot camp that will condition my reading mind to be more attuned to things that *should* move the P/N needle.
Sorry, and now that I've left a comment I'm leaving another. I do love that the mistake in the title of this post hasn't been corrected. Something about that makes this feel even more like a conversation. I'm sure there's someone out there wringing their hands and saying, "But who is this George Saunders who called it 'A Cat in the Rain'" but let that poor soul quietly wring and wring.
This is so fun! After leaving my MFA and having a monthly writers group with my buds from there I am woefully surrounded most days by people who give zero Fs about writing: the obsession du jour in Tick Tock and desperately ignoring what the Fed will do today seem popular. Is it okay to say zero Fs? Tshirt: story club gives zero Fs 💀
So I’m not selling them here but I have a t-shirt boutique on my website. I don’t think we can use the fox 8 art unless we get the artist’s permission and even then it might get expensive to buy rights. Yet—- yet—- I may try to draw a completely different fox 🦊 but then again have to get permission from George. I think we should ask George if we can use his banner art and make t-shirts I live that art it’s like pastoral, the movie. Lol. Like a folk horror film like a lot of George’s short stories. Such a shameless fan girl.
With all these t-shirt ideas, I'm not even sure I care what's on it, just as long as there is, in fact, a Story Club t-shirt. I have never really had a chance to interact with someone in "real life" who had an interest in writing. T-shirt would serve as: a)an excellent participation trophy and b)a beacon to other writers out in the wild, who may be following this course.
Excellent post. I thoroughly enjoyed the similar exercise in A Swim in a Pond in the Rain. Think I even preferred the page by page breakdown more than the latter exercises that called for a reading of the entire story before your comments.
Uh oh, now I’m imagining a type of ironic/meta Story Club shirt series illustrated with totally random images - the only qualifier being the text that reads Story Club.
Examples:
Picture of a fire hydrant - text reads “Story Club”
A grilled cheese - text reads “Story Club”
Western meadowlark in a fence post- text reads “Story Club”
The comments section was indeed a very rich and enriching experience.
A few people in an effort to "read all the comments", understood that some comments were actually begging a reaction. In some cased the reaction sparked a dialogue, a mindful dialogue such as we all wish would be the rule with more popular, mass social media.
My gut reaction to the beginning of "A Cat in the Rain" was the same reaction I have to every other Hemingway story, which was to marvel over how he managed to become so popular with so little variation in his sentence structure. And yet it clearly worked for him, and continues to work (as we're sitting here analyzing his piece), so it makes me wonder which other rules I've taken as sacrosanct are actually meaningless.
I think it worked for him because it was so unique (although he certainly had critics), but it doesn't work so well if we try to BE him. I like how George has pointed that out in different ways and the thing that is important is that we work on our craft while using our own voice and our own instincts.
I am currently reading A Walk in the Pond in the Rain and am 3 short stories in. When I read Chekhov's In the Cart, my first thought was, "I am such a bad writer; I could never write like that!" Then I thought, "Actually, I don't want to write like that because that's not who I am, but I can definitely learn something here." So now I will try to learn from Hemingway!
They're not called the Russian Masters for nothing :) I always feel intimidated when I read stories of that calibre. That said, wait until you get to Master and Man (Tolstoy) - George references an earlier version of that work and it's amazing to see the transformation between versions. Like, the difference between very good and a masterpiece. I found that really inspiring (instead of just intimidating).
Story Club: An Annoying and Tedious Place Full of Positive Comments
There's our t-shirt!
I'll wear it proudly.
We could start a whole line of Story Club Tees: "The divided self is a two-headed dog" “Join the Thematic Notion Generation!” “What else is in that thought bubble?” (under an empty thought bubble.) And so on. What fun!
Love it! How about the ever existential "Where am I now?" with one of those colorful random pick circles labeled: Joyful!, Confused, Curious, Scared, LOL, ... etc.
Typo police again—s/b parenthesis before the period: (under an empty thought bubble).
First up - the Story Club holiday tee https://the-gnostic-reclamation.creator-spring.com/listing/story-club-holiday-tee
Use code SUPER10 at checkout to get 10% off until midnight Dec 16th.
Profits will be donated to the Story Club Scholarship fund.
Alternate design : https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-inspiration-tee?product=46
Let me edit the listings and see what I can do - I will likely have to make a white ink on black option for the dog(s) version. I’ll post a link here when it’s up.
I encourage everybody to provide constructive criticism, their own requests, and personal designs.
Black T Shirts Matter
Really love "The divided self is a two-headed dog!"
George,
Here’s the first double headed dog tee-
https://the-gnostic-reclamation.creator-spring.com/listing/story-club-double-dog-tee
I’m happy to forward all proceeds to the substack scholarship fund. Let me know if this is okay. I’m also happy to take it down if I’m … barking up the wrong tree.
I love these so much! Wonderful inspiration. I have one suggestion, though: Please offer women's T-shirts. The men's T-shirts are not, in reality, "unisex." If you do, I will buy!
Bahahahahaha!
Me too!
My goodness, I want one.
I'll take three, please. One for me, and two for my two-headed dog.
I guess that answers my question about how well the two-headed dog plays well with others.
HAHAHA!!
Yes I agree. JRE
This method of study, taking a small chunk of primary text and then digging deeply into the meaning and implications held within it, and doing it together with a bunch of people commenting around it in the margins of the primary text, feels sort of Talmudic. There's a Hebrew word, Chevrutah, which translates as the connection between study partners, or friendship, or companionship, and some might say that holiness is found in that connection.
If we accept that time is an illusion, and the current moment, the now, is infinite, then it becomes easier to be patient and go slowly with this method, and shift our focus to our connection with each other. We can also learn to be better readers and better writers, too. Things go in deeper that are lingered over longer. Thanks, George, for creating this delightful container for us.
Susanna, this comment of yours lights me up. This container George has made (and that we’re all feeding with the quality of our attention) feels like it has a life force of its own already. The word “holiness” makes me want to tunnel in, too, to see what it is, exactly. Feels to me like a special chance offered by life—and, importantly, to complete the circuit, *taken* by the people in range—to see and feel and understand its nature better.
I keep thinking about this wonderful acting class I got to take years ago with a Russian director and acting teacher named Leonid Anisimov, who was visiting Seattle from Vladivostok.
We would workshop scenes from Chekhov plays, going slow, slow, slow.
Leonid spoke almost no English (he had a beautiful translator in class with us named Laura) but there were a couple of words he called out to us regularly while we were onstage working.
“Pause!” (It almost sounded like “pose”, the way he said it. Powse.)
“More pause!”
He wanted us to slow way down because something organic would arise if we stayed present and didn’t try to force responses out of a false haste.
“Pause pause pause!”
And the other word he’d call out to us in English was:
“Astonishment!”
You had to find a reason to be astonished at all times because stories are about something extraordinary.
If we were going dead and dull up there, if we were falling asleep to what was in front of us, we’d hear “Astonishment!”
Leonid only ever had us rehearse in candlelight, too. Electric lights messed up the current of our work, somehow, was the idea. Candlelight has life in it differently.
Anyway, these classes were magical and unforgettable. Holy-feeling. And while we can’t all be in the same room with candlelight here, the feeling in this class and community is similar. Something is extra alive.
Great good fortune, being here. I feel so lucky.
What a wonderful story, and what an experience that must have been. I feel like "pause pause pause" is something we should all be saying to ourselves regularly!
pause... pause... pause... Astonishment!
That's a great story, Tina, especially so given you were acting Chekhov, one of the same Russian masters that George examines in his recent book on writing. Yes, as that director taught, the pause is the key! Only in practicing that pause can we unhook from our habitual, wrote reactions to a text, or modify our reply in a conversation into something that goes a little bit deeper, that is more honest, compassionate, surprising, dare we say, astonishing! As for the candlelight, Indonesian shadow puppet theater traditionally uses a wick with a flame to illuminate the screen, perhaps because that flickering quality has the movement of breath, of life, in it. It creates a visual shimmering quality, which echoes the tuning of the gamelan instruments and the movement of the dancers in other Indonesian art forms.
What a beautiful side street we’ve gone down, ending up at an Indonesian shadow puppet performance. I love that you brought us there.
Real flames at storytelling time always seem like they put us at some eternal campfire. The bodies around the fire change, the stories change, but it’s just one giant ongoing togetherness.
Makes me think about how writers might curate their working light sources, and how they may switch it up depending on what they’re trying to invoke in their writing.
This was such a beautiful exchange of ideas; already worth the whole subscription. Thank you Susanna and Tina.
I agree! I lived in Central Java in the 1980s and went to shadow play performances that lasted from sundown to sun up in the tropical night, people chatting, dosing on blankets, drinking sugary coffee, dipping in and out of the tale - which everyone knew by heart. The clowns puppets - who were really gods - always perked everyone up. The firelight, the gongs, the smell of jasmine, taking a bicycle cab home at dawn - it was so magical. There is something sacred about stories. Thank you Susana and Tina for reminding me of this - I haven’t thought about wayang kulit for years!
For me, this method takes me back in time to how English Literature used to be studied - by very close reading. Or at least - that's how it was in my A-level English class, 1969-70, with Mrs. Brown (who, rumor had it, took a first in English at Oxford). I have never before or since had such a wonderful teacher. I remember her horsy smile and red cheeks and enthusiasm. That's where poetry opened up for me, and amazement sprang out.
My English teacher in 1969-1970, John Murphy, taught me how to read Wharton and James. James's big thick novels. He'd tell us the plot for a couple chapters, then send us home to read them. I don't remember much about what we did after the reading, it didn't matter. I was introduced to a relationship with Henry James and Edith Wharton. It was a life-changing experience.
Yes! Those books and writers from those years are part of my dna. Life changing indeed.
and reading together this way becomes a communal experience that takes us out of ourselves, it is a devotional practice
Holiness. In the connection between friends, companions, others. Time as illusion. The eternal present. I can't begin to count all the ways I love your comment. And the cool way you bring it all back to George for creating a container for thoughts such as these. Thank you!
So Sweet
Howdy all, I'll, (as instructed) refrain from adding my comments about this story, which is new to to me, and just say that I'm going to make an effort to participate in the comments and not just lurk. Like many of us caught up in a love/hate/dependency relationship with the architecture of surveillance capitalism and the attention economy, my vows to "never read the comments" are informed by far too many precious hours spent, well, reading the comments, usually to the detriment of my mood and personal view of our society's short and long-term prospects.
Anyway, since everyone keeps saying this is such a positive place (and I believe them), I'll do my best to get over myself and contribute. A lesson I keep having to relearn is that the perceived risks of connection are almost always revealed to be unimportant, or even imaginary, after I've put myself out there. So hello again!
Hello, Isaac, and welcome aboard. I share your feelings - when I first signed on to Substack I made a personal vow not to read (and get rendered defensive by) the comments - which quickly fell away by seeing how positive and supportive people were being.
So far, so good (great).
To paraphrase what a teacher once told me, we only make vows not to do things we're pretty sure we're going to do.
Thank you for “coming out.” You are not alone. I am also making an effort to participate fully here. I trusted what George expressed when he offered us this platform, “We’ll find ourselves forming a tight and mutually supportive community.” We are making that happen.
I completely agree and relate, Isaac. Thank you for saying this and inspiring me and it seems a few others. I try to remind myself that I learn more when I contribute. Not that this is a purely selfish exercise - rather it is the exchange which makes life and learning a bit richer.
Howdy Isaac. Great to meet you. Very well said indeed. Looking forward to hearing more of your thoughts. Cheers.
I'm often overwhelmed by the sheer volume of literature that exists and find myself racing through a book so I can read MORE to get caught up. I realize this defeats the purpose of reading quality literature. My FOMO just causes me miss what I'm trying not to miss! Hopefully these small chunk exercises will help me curb this habit.
George, I've read you practice Nyingma Buddhism. The teacher I follow is Anam Thubten and he is in this tradition. What you are saying about slowing down, noticing with more clarity, watching how our understanding and experience evolves, etc. are very familiar teachings. Thanks for the reminders! This is going to be (it already is!) a lot of fun and very helpful.
Acquiring a good reading habit is one of the best things you can do for your life. The American Economist Tyler Cowen has some fantastic suggestions on wading through that "sheer volume of literature," and I find I use these tips more often than not.
His advice is helpfully summarized in this article: https://www.driverlesscrocodile.com/books-and-recommendations/tyler-cowen-on-reading-fast-reading-well-and-reading-widely/
I recognize this is the opposite of slowing down! Ha.
Thanks for the link, Mike. Tyler makes some good and funny points. "Zap – throw it in the trash, on to the next one."
Thank you Mike. Always delighted to read about 'reading' :)
When I was younger and still visiting physical libraries I was invariably struck, as I walked through the door, by a kind anguish. The phrase "So many books, so little time" would boom in my inner world. I would inevitably have to struggle to carry the bookbag home. Now here I am, many decades and about 300 books per year later, and I've imbibed barely a drop in the ocean of sentences out there.
I am often overcome by the generosity of all the writers - fiction and nonfiction - who have allowed me to see the world through their eyes and via their craft. Some have completely changed my life. A big thank you to all the writers of the world.
This makes me think about the other side of the coin — of walking into a bookstore or library and the feeling of hope and excitement. Inside this place, right now, there is a book that if I can just find it, will take me away, somewhere else, wonderful, magical, unforgettable. All seasoned with the frisson of fear that I will pick the wrong book. I will squander the chance and end up with something banal. No matter how many times I might fail, my hope is never lessened.
Brad, I think most of us are in the same boat!, there is simply too much of a good thing out there, that we want to ingest. I guess one page at a time!
What an amazing thing George has put together here...so many of us in the same boat but now we're all here together on an ocean liner with no risk of norovirus!
I hear you. Like many of us, I'm a lifelong voracious reader, and I find that this habit occasionally defeats itself and gets in the way of quality reading. Last year, my mom read 100 books and asked me how many I thought I'd read. I didn't know, and decided to try reading 100 books in 2021. I'm glad I tried it, and while I think I'll continue to track the books I read, I won't try to hit a numerical goal again.
The good: Keeping a list of what I've read has been thought-provoking. It's been interesting to look back and see interests and patterns rise, fall, reoccur, or disappear. And, on good days, it was a spur to me to read instead of waste time online.
The neutral: I've found myself avoiding bigger books and anthologies, more and more as the year wound down, because I wanted to make sure I was on track to reach 100. Obviously, size isn't everything, and it was oddly satisfying sometimes to put off a big book I wanted to read, go to my shelves, and find something shorter I hadn't read yet. A good reminder that what I want is often capricious and arbitrary, and that random or semi-random encounters or prompts to rethink my desires can be as enriching or more enriching than just reading or doing what (I think) I want.
This project also spurred totally meaningless questions that have been a lot of fun to debate with like-minded nerds: do audiobooks count? (I never listened to audiobooks until this year, when I found myself in a job where I spent a lot of time performing repetitive manual labor alone). Should I count one or two books for two novels published together in one volume?
The bad: I've got a bad habit of rushing through the ends of books because I'm so excited to get to the next one. This was exacerbated by the attempt to get to 100.
All that to say, there's a lot of good coming out of Story Club for me already, and a reminder to slow down might be one of the most important.
I've been setting goals of 50 books every year, and still bumping up against the exact problems you describe, especially avoiding longer books and rushing to the end so I can get to the next one. This year, though, I didn't make the goal--or I did, but not by reading new books. I decided to slow down and re-read (and re-read again!) some of the books I've loved, books that are like the one I am trying to write. Reading broadly feels important, both to know the market and to discover something fresh, a new favorite, but we definitely lose something by always thinking about the next book. Neither way is right--it's just about being aware of the trade-offs.
I'm guilty of stacking my reading list with new releases, but when the libraries where I live closed during the early stages of the pandemic, I had to turn to books that were already on my shelves. That slowing down, re-reading old favorites, turned out to be one of the most comforting and pleasurable reading experiences for me. (Now if only there were more time for ALL the books)
It’s really interesting to read you talking about the act of re-reading - I hope you count that among your 50. I’ve been redeveloping the habit of regular book reading and I’ve found it helpful to challenge myself to a number of pages a day - 20, and that’s made me feel better about choosing longer books - but I’ve developed an eagle eye for font sizes… some of those Russian doorstops are also written in like 8-point!
Yup, this all sounds like me. I really have to talk myself into starting monster books. I did make it through "The Count of Monte Cristo" and "East of Eden" this year. As for audiobooks I would personally count them but at the same time feel like it's "being read to" rather than "reading". The information still reaches your brain either way.
And two novels in one volume? You bet I'm counting two novels!
I'm going to have to revisit The Count of Monte Cristo now. Ah, well.
Audio books count. Though reading's clearly a different activity, for long drives or long walks very grateful to audible . Maggie Gyllenhaal's reading of Anna Karinina is amazingly good.
This not reading of the whole story, and then not posting on this thread, is like an adult version of the marshmallow test. Much like the kid who puts the whole marshmallow in his mouth and then takes it out again, I walked over to my bookshelf, grabbed my copy of The Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway, found Cat in the Rain, noticed that I had underlined some stuff (which means that I must have read it in college, years ago) and then put it back, unread.
Good discipline! I also notice that I've got the title wrong in the heading, doh. "Cat in the Rain."
Hemingway gonna Hemingway - got to cut it down to the simplest, fewest words possible. Can't have that "A" cluttering things up.
Hemingway’s sentences are like a generous box of chocolates- much of it is short and sweet…
and then you score a turtle!
I have the complete short stories of Ernest Hemingway pulled out too. Cat in the Rain is on page 129. That's all I know about it.
Apparently we have different editions!
Ah I love waking up to Story Club. I keep it tucked away to be pulled out as a reward for when I have finished my chores.
Love this exercise. It immediately reminded me of a book I read 4 or 5 years ago: What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund. He says "reading is a story of pictures and picturing" and spends much of the book reflecting on the way we imagine characters and settings. Or don't, but think we do. A favorite statement of mine from the book: Words are effective not because of what they carry in them, but for their latent potential to unlock the accumulated experience of the reader. Words 'contain' meaning, but, more important, words potentiate meaning..."
As an example he introduces the word "river" and goes on to say that that single word "contains within it all rivers. . .but more important all my rivers." Which is maybe what makes stories magical. They have a geography, but also continuously remind readers of their own place/s in the world. Of their own idiosyncratic geographies.
Also, I'd be totally down for a t-shirt.
Was just watching a flip-through of Mendelsund's book on youtube and there's a page that talks about protention/retention - where, as readers, we simultaneously read a sentence, read ahead a couple of sentences, hold the current sentence in our minds, and try to predict future story events. How apt is that for this exercise of slowing down and focusing on how a single sentence (or short collection of them) sets off a range of diverse reader reactions? Love it.
I love this idea. I think it also rings true when you find yourself taking away different imaginings and interpretations of the same book depending on where you are in life when you read it and in what mood you're starting from...
I think we try to find ourselves in a story. Maybe we place ourselves in a story. I'm just reminded of how I sometimes become so engrossed in a story that I feel almost as if I'm taking a path in another life. Becoming immersed so much is such an escape from all that's going on in reality. More than that actually, you know how you finish a story that you've become so lost in that when it ends, you 'wake-up' with new eyes or even wake up bereft at reaching the conclusion and wanting to dive straight back in again, maybe into that river.....
Hi Scott. I feel this notion of the word "river" "containing within it all rivers... but more important all my rivers" is so powerful. I felt it as I read it. All of these ideas in the comments are washing over us, through us, connecting and changing us. And what power, as a writer, to write the word "river" and bring to mind all the rivers of our readers.
About that shirt: https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-cat-swim-tee?product=46
And this: https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-double-dog-tee?product=46
Definitely going to read that!
All my rivers! Love!
I'm totally there for the Story Club two-headed dog t-shirts.
It was interesting - I love how your next thoughts/questions about the two-headed dog were interior and philosophical (how does it work? who eats first? Divide self or shared experience?), whereas my first reaction was exterior (what are they going to do with these heads and who is going to be terrorised by them?). My instinct is to race to plot, but I like the idea of slowing down and thinking introspectively. Kind of like "The Falls" - you start with a guy that's walking along a river, and rather than ask where is he going? what will he see? what will happen to him on this walk? (my default writing mode), you ask: why is he walking? is he walking fast or slow? is he enjoying the walk?
I like how this gets us closer to character. And then, by understanding character, we can develop a resonant (rather than confected) plot.
So, yeah, sign me up for one of those t-shirts.
But those reactions are great - "What are they going to do with those heads." I mean - that would work, for sure - especially if we alter slightly to "What are they going to do with their heads...right now." :)
I was going to say that I like your way better (It's like you figure out the 'why' first, before tackling the 'what'), but maybe that's just the two dimensions of storytelling as discovery? One begins by defining the object at rest (the status quo of character or situation) and then discovers/introduces the change that will best bring the object out of inertia; and one begins with momentum (the incident) and then discovers what object at rest is best exposed to (and changed by) this action?
In any case, it's got me thinking :)
I love your reflections on this post.. and it kind of answers my earlier question on when given an image/prompt - how to develop it.. and since George does say .. once we define a character, any inciting incident can act as plot and based on his character, the story can follow...
I need to reread George's posts maybe a couple more times for it to slowly sink into my body.
Thank you.
Thanks Radhika. Your post made me think of something George says about Chekhov - how he doesn't think black or white, but lifts up an idea and examines it from all angles. Maybe the best way to start with a prompt is to explore it first and ask questions (either introspectively (what is it about this thing?) or extrospectively (how will this thing manifest in its environment?)) and then explore the question you find more interesting or more full of interesting possibilities...
(I love how this community and the kinds of discussions had here (that I have never found anywhere else) leads to all sorts of new ideas and insights and reflections. Must be what a writers workshop is like...)
As someone who has been a part of several writing workshops and fine art retreats my experience has been like this: a free flowing democratic exploration of ideas, insights and reflections. It can be messy, slow and full of discussion and compromise... full of questions. Usually, in the workshops I found most helpful, even the "leader/organizer" behaved more like a fellow participant, a fellow questioner. Creative workshops are (usually) the very opposite of the rigid style religious/political hierarchies where one person dictates and every else downstream follows or else. In creative groups there isn't one answer, or only one way...there's room for everyone. Too many places in life, in the United States anyway, model themselves on the rigid hierarchy system style which doesn't easily permit new ideas. So, yes, especially by comparison writing workshops feel open to all sorts of new ideas while trusting that each of us will still find and share our own voice.
And my reaction to the two-headed dog was, 'oh no, i bet people are really mean to that dog because it's different from all the others.'
Yep, I'm on board with the two headed dog Story Club shirts too. Perhaps one dog head has a collar with a tag saying "reader" and the other head has a collar and tag saying "writer"?
I was, just now, looking around on YouTube for unreleased and alternate recordings from Radiohead and settled on a version of “Pyramid Song” slowed down 800%. It was playing as I read my Story Time email update where you describe the “…radical slowing down of the reading process, so that we can notice with more clarity how its meaning is accumulating and how our understanding of it is evolving.” Inspired by this synchronicity I was thinking of music when I read Hemingway here.
George, I believe it was a talk at Google after the publication of Tenth of December where you mentioned your struggles with a bout of “Hemingway Boner”.
I know what it’s like.
Here’s an interesting article about Soviet scientist Vladimir Demikhov’s two-headed dogs.
https://allthatsinteresting.com/vladimir-demikhov-two-headed-dog
Here’s Radiohead’s “Pyramid Song” slowed 800%: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XiKWfcy-Z70
That's funny - I am just in the middle of a Radiohead immersion...
Would love to take a dive at some point into a discussion of the singer/songwriter as a story teller. Particularly thinking of Tom Waits one-liners which could be a story or novel in themselves.
I'm digging all the way to China with a silver spoon while the hangman fumbles with the noose.
I'll tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my past.
You know there ain't no devil...there's just God when He's drunk.
How do the angels get to sleep when the devil his porch light on?
I would love to hear about your musical skills one day. And how they link, if at all, with your writing.
Like my favorite writers, I often take breaks from my favorite music only to revisit them later and find new stuff. With Radiohead I’ve changed my favorite LP of theirs several times (it’s currently Hail To The Thief).
As in poetry, fine art, scripture, and even film- I often notice a bit of precognition in my favorite songwriters, like Thom Yorke and Jeff Tweedy, who’s words continue to pay dividends and even, at times, contain symbols and patterns that take on new and larger meaning as times passes.
Radiohead recorded “Ill Wind” in 2016 but kept it off A Moon Shaped Pool and released it officially as a single in January of 2019. The brief lyrics now sound like a response to the pandemic:
Keep your distance
Then no harm will come
No ill wind
Will blow
Will blow
Sudden words
Must never be spoken
All ill wind
Will blow
Will blow
Keep your cool
Do not give into emotion
An ill wind
Will blow
Will blow
I’m now thinking of Owen Barfield’s concepts on using etymology as a type of psychological excavation illuminating “fossils of consciousness”. Both the Hebrew and Greek words for wind, breath, and spirit were one word- ruach and pneuma respectively. The current paradigms and patterns of the pandemic map onto and suggest a spiritual malady- a bad breath/spirit/wind causing a cultural climate change.
Ok- that’s enough out of me. Cheers.
For more on the imagination as a truth-bearing and at times precognitive faculty of co-creation check out poet/priest Malcolm Guite’s excellent talk on Coleridge’s Mariner: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Bj5YwVI2ic&list=PLw2TfsHinnSlPjSGDB3PvMP5IZRKT5uKQ&index=2
"Like my favorite writers, I often take breaks from my favorite music only to revisit them later and find new stuff." This is one of the great joys, isn't it?
Radiohead certainly, but Bob Dylan is a gift that keeps rewarding "exploration" like this. Every 'bootleg' that appears, you could make another album of unfairly good material that's available only to those who wish to dig.
The Beatles have already released much of their "back catalogue." No surprises there. Though we all now have a new appreciation for Paul, I hope after the recent documentaries. But Joni Mitchell and Neil Yonge are just getting started to releasing their "archives."
It just astonishes the creative well these folks can draw from. One of the biggest influences on my own writing has to come from and songwriters, not so much novelists or short story writers.
What do you think?
I hear you. Music, for me, is as good as scripture.
I think the booklet of lyrics that came with my CD copy of Paul Simon’s The Rhythm of The Saints alone is worth the cost of the album. I’ve been going over Wilco lyrics lately, taking lots of notes, and Jeff has loads of language mapping onto gnostic / mystical Christian concepts I find interesting.
Here’s a sample from Theologians, where we get the title of A Ghost Is Born:
“I'm going away
Where you will look for me
Where I'm going you cannot come
No one's ever gonna take my life from me
I lay it down
A ghost is born
A ghost is born
A ghost is born”
In John 10:17-18 Jesus says,
“For this reason the Father loves me: that I lay down my soul, so that I may take it up again. No one has taken it from me; rather I lay it down, and I have power to take it up again; this command I received from my Father.”
These lyrics echo the Gospel of Thomas logia 38 where Jesus says,
“Many times have you desired to hear these words which I am saying to you, and you have no one else to hear them from. There will be days when you will look for me and will not find me.”
And finally, in 1 Corinthians 1:30 Paul tells us Jesus “became wisdom from God, uprightness and sanctification and the fee for emancipation,”
Jeff’s lyrics in Theologians remind of this subtle suggestion in the gnostic-tinged language of John, Paul, and Thomas that we are visited by wisdom (Greek - Sophia) and this wisdom/Sophia is the Ghost (G Host) of someone/something that sacrificed itself and became a Paraclete of truth for us. In Thomas Jesus says his followers will look for him and not find him, seeking his words with futility. I believe this is because they don’t study the poets and songwriters aided by the Ghost.
In George’s recently discussed story The Fall we see Morse, piano re-possessed, making that sacrifice to “lay it down” literally. I see these two narrators of Morse and Cummings as walking through the Bardo, already dead, repeating their grievances, and responding differently to the call for action and sacrifice.
Interestingly, Cummings mentions the archetypally charged number 114 twice. The gospel of Judas Thomas the twin is comprised of 114 logia/sayings. And in John 1:14 the Word is made flesh. The Quran contains 114 surrahs and suggests dying for the cause grants immortality. 1 cycle of 14 days is what it takes to “flatten the curve” of a full moon. In The Falls, Morse and his full blue moon takes action and lays it down to be of service in a selfless act- a kind of love jihad. Cummings will remain in the bardo, perhaps thinking about writing about Morse.
I believe the Ghost is real and we’re in a bardo now. Like Morse, we are called to get our blue moon into shape by taking a swim in a river in the reign. Patterns emerge from inspired words, be them scripture, poetry, or song lyrics because language is at the substrate of creation and that creation is a co-creation.
So yeah- that’s what I think.
I just rented Wonder Boys, the excellent film based on Michael Chabon’s second novel. The central character, an aspiring novelist, James Lear’s debut novel is titled The Love Parade, clipped from a classic 1929 film known as the first feature length film in which the soundtrack songs are incorporated into and reference the film’s narrative. Wonder Boys does the same thing, and features music from Dylan, Leonard Cohen, Neil Young, and my favorite John Lennon song, Watching The Wheels.
Fun fact: The word quarantine comes to us from the 17th century Italian quarantina, meaning 40 days. In the synoptic gospels Christ spends a quarantina in the wilderness battling temptation and finding resolve. It’s the same amount of time Noah spends hunkered down in the Ark and Moses spends on the mountaintop receiving the word.
Perhaps a quarantina in the bardo is a great opportunity to get my ass in shape, go for a swim, be of service to others, and do some writing.
"Daily Mail" was my pandemic anthem for some reason. It just seemed to match my mood. The Ozark episode which featured it was an amazing episode. I still listen to it when I'm feeling distraught and hopeless. It also helped me through the last six month of the 2020 Presidential election when I was absolutely terrified.
Cat In the Rain With Myxomatosis? Oh, wait, that would be Rabbit in the Rain ... anyway, loving this slowly meted-out story analysis. I look forward to the next thought bubble, and the next.
Oh my gosh I’m studying fake plastic trees for my cabaret act lol
It's sort of amazing how well Pyramid Song works at that speed. Wonder how many other songs could stand up to that sort of treatment.
I love that pinned Mahler quote: "If you think you are boring your audience, go slower not faster." Wonder if literature would stand up to that treatment as well?
There is a corollary to that in photography: If your images aren't interesting, you aren't close enough.
I can tell you that to calm a loud classroom of children speak softly and slowly
Proust, Mann, Dickens, James, Melville … yep!
Someone did this a while back with some of Wagner's music (The Ring Cycle, Tristan und Isolde). Slowed it waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay down until it sounds like Mongolian Throat Music. Great "writing music". I wonder what other artists would benefit from a significant slowdown?
I’d buy the “Hemingway Boner” tshirt. Or use it as the name of my Radiohead tribute band
It's not slowed down 800% but the strings section in How to Disappear Completely works surprisingly well all by itself
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ACmCuuIaMQ
Or maybe it's not surprising given Jonny Greenwood's film scores.
So excited about this — I loved the in depth look at “In the Cart” in A Swim in a Pond. I was thinking of maybe trying to write a story one page at a time as this post moves forward in a kind of reverse engineering that aims to achieve what Hemingway does in the same amount of space. Anything to get me writing…
That's in an interesting exercise, Dan. I've noticed over the years of teaching that people tend to either race to get a first draft done, or go a little at a time, sort of solidifying what's behind them (making it more undeniable). I mix those approaches but mostly use the latter. So, if you notice that you do it one way...might be good to try to the other, once.
"an interesting," that is.
I have recently switched from first draft mania to constant restart and building on what I’ve created so far. It’s working much better for me. It means I am moving more slowly but what I have is so much better and informs the future writing more clearly. In the past I’ve just had first drafts that were literally 97% useless. (I calculated how many words of the total I saved when I reread it)
This is nice to hear! I think I've spent a lot of time trying to work against my slowness in writing -- always driven by the feeling that the script needs to get finished, so I can send it to people, so I can get actors in a room, so I can submit, etc etc. Plus the social pressure of having friends who write that way, in a steady, efficient march. Now I'm interested in just embracing the opposite approach. Knowing I can work the beginning as many times as I need to might do away with a lot of my fear about starting my next project.
I hope it works for you. I think that's all it's about in the end. What works for you. And people change over time and one way will suit you better at a different time in life or a different mood.
Literally and literarily.
I’m definitely a Speed Racer, so it’ll be interesting to try out making previous sections “more undeniable.” The only thing that gives me pause is that I can get lost tinkering with the beginning of a story and never reach the end.
Speed racer here, too
I'm working on the Two-Headed Dog concept (see my tiny sketch) and maybe a T-shirt with a Cat Swimming in a Pond in the Rain. Dogs and Cats, infinite possibilities. By the way, I'm thoroughly enjoying slowing down the reading process and studying stories on a granular level with such a master writer and teacher. This is a noble experiment--and so generous on your part.
Nice!!!
I love picturing the benevolent reader, one to respect but one who isn't trying to dodge our sure punches just for the sake of dodging.
I'm thinking about the role of the subconscious mind that I've heard you talk about, George, and how much of drafting comes from that place. And then I'm thinking about the P/N meter and this very deliberate, well, thinking, that doesn't seems like the subconscious mind at all. But maybe I'm creating a binary when there isn't a binary. Like, the P/N meter might be about listening to that subconscious mind to get to that sweet spot that addresses expectations but without hitting them so hard on the head that they have a concussion?
I do love these comments. And then, because my Internet time has conditioned me to fear the comments section, I get sheepish about leaving one. Which is the opposite, I suspect, of the mood being established here. Thank you, everyone!
That's a great reflection. I'm also guilty of falling into binary modes - writer vs editor, genre vs literary, plot vs character. But maybe, like most things (including our minds), they aren't dichotomies as much as they are extremes along a spectrum. And, if that's the case, I can imagine the P/N metre as an instrument that can vary wildly in its output depending on where my mind/attention/mood/environment is at.
Yes! I was thinking this morning how fickle my P/N meter can be, or how my "monkey mind" can try to subvert the P/N meter, or let other, not helpful voices interfere with my instincts. And then I was also thinking that my instincts are not immutable absolutes but part of a mind that is forever altering...
That why I love this story club - it's like a (fun) boot camp that will condition my reading mind to be more attuned to things that *should* move the P/N needle.
Sorry, and now that I've left a comment I'm leaving another. I do love that the mistake in the title of this post hasn't been corrected. Something about that makes this feel even more like a conversation. I'm sure there's someone out there wringing their hands and saying, "But who is this George Saunders who called it 'A Cat in the Rain'" but let that poor soul quietly wring and wring.
It's mostly a "me being crappy at tech" issue. :) But...I'm on it. Watch this...
This is so fun! After leaving my MFA and having a monthly writers group with my buds from there I am woefully surrounded most days by people who give zero Fs about writing: the obsession du jour in Tick Tock and desperately ignoring what the Fed will do today seem popular. Is it okay to say zero Fs? Tshirt: story club gives zero Fs 💀
Story Club
“Zero Fox Given”
(Drawing of Fox 8)
So I’m not selling them here but I have a t-shirt boutique on my website. I don’t think we can use the fox 8 art unless we get the artist’s permission and even then it might get expensive to buy rights. Yet—- yet—- I may try to draw a completely different fox 🦊 but then again have to get permission from George. I think we should ask George if we can use his banner art and make t-shirts I live that art it’s like pastoral, the movie. Lol. Like a folk horror film like a lot of George’s short stories. Such a shameless fan girl.
Dang that’s good
Watch all the foxes at SaveAFox get an egg! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z8W0LSarQ8s&feature=emb_title
Story Club 2-Headed Dog Tee - https://www.gnosticonpress.com/listing/story-club-double-dog-tee?product=46
I want this t-shirt.
With all these t-shirt ideas, I'm not even sure I care what's on it, just as long as there is, in fact, a Story Club t-shirt. I have never really had a chance to interact with someone in "real life" who had an interest in writing. T-shirt would serve as: a)an excellent participation trophy and b)a beacon to other writers out in the wild, who may be following this course.
Excellent post. I thoroughly enjoyed the similar exercise in A Swim in a Pond in the Rain. Think I even preferred the page by page breakdown more than the latter exercises that called for a reading of the entire story before your comments.
Uh oh, now I’m imagining a type of ironic/meta Story Club shirt series illustrated with totally random images - the only qualifier being the text that reads Story Club.
Examples:
Picture of a fire hydrant - text reads “Story Club”
A grilled cheese - text reads “Story Club”
Western meadowlark in a fence post- text reads “Story Club”
The comments section was indeed a very rich and enriching experience.
A few people in an effort to "read all the comments", understood that some comments were actually begging a reaction. In some cased the reaction sparked a dialogue, a mindful dialogue such as we all wish would be the rule with more popular, mass social media.
Bravo!
My gut reaction to the beginning of "A Cat in the Rain" was the same reaction I have to every other Hemingway story, which was to marvel over how he managed to become so popular with so little variation in his sentence structure. And yet it clearly worked for him, and continues to work (as we're sitting here analyzing his piece), so it makes me wonder which other rules I've taken as sacrosanct are actually meaningless.
I think it worked for him because it was so unique (although he certainly had critics), but it doesn't work so well if we try to BE him. I like how George has pointed that out in different ways and the thing that is important is that we work on our craft while using our own voice and our own instincts.
I am currently reading A Walk in the Pond in the Rain and am 3 short stories in. When I read Chekhov's In the Cart, my first thought was, "I am such a bad writer; I could never write like that!" Then I thought, "Actually, I don't want to write like that because that's not who I am, but I can definitely learn something here." So now I will try to learn from Hemingway!
They're not called the Russian Masters for nothing :) I always feel intimidated when I read stories of that calibre. That said, wait until you get to Master and Man (Tolstoy) - George references an earlier version of that work and it's amazing to see the transformation between versions. Like, the difference between very good and a masterpiece. I found that really inspiring (instead of just intimidating).