Office Hours
We’re still cranking away profitably at “CommComm” over behind the paywall. One thing I’m trying to do over there is respond to every single question in the Comments, which is rewarding but also time-consuming. So, apologies for this abbreviated Office Hours - and please join us over there if you feel so inclined.
For now, I just wanted to pass on this link to my Paris Review interview of a few years back, which was mentioned by one generous Commenter. This may have a paywall some distance in. This doesn’t - it’s a short essay by the same excellent writer, Benjamin Nugent, written after our interview was completed.
In other news, I’m working on a new story. Which is why there’s so little other news: just sitting home, writing, or waiting to get back to writing.
I hope everybody’s having a good week.
And if you’re thinking of joining in on the “CommComm” conversation, here’s the story itself. Sunday, I’ll be posting on Section 5 (pages 209 – 213).
GS/TPR
Dialing back the fireworks. When in doubt, shock. Or, When in doubt, oppose conventional thinking.
Love this from TPR. And was fascinated by your description of having to “dial back the fireworks” for LitB and used letters from the Civil War to redirect your language brain. I had 80 CW letters from my multiple ggf, a nephew of Jeff Davis, who was shot through the bowels at Peach Orchard just before the Battle of Gettysburg. I also inherited Jeff Davis’s sword given to him by the Continental Congress. He gave it to his nephew who took it to battle. I sold the sword to finance my MFA. With it, I gave three letters to prove provenance. I transcribed the letters. Hard to do as every millimeter of the paper was written on, including margins. The language was so poignant & heartfelt & so unlike how we speak today. Isaac had been a lawyer & was eloquent. He told his wife Mary that if he survived his sword would be a souvenir but if he died it would be his only legacy to give his two surviving daughters. They had two other children who died in infancy. He also told Mary to get that saber if he expired. She did and got his body exhumed a year later and when the train broke down, she got a horse and wagon and drove the body back to Woodville, Ms. She later moved to New Orleans and opened a school for girls. I have the handle of her walking stick, inscribed with her initials as thanks from her school.
I love that you are willing to help us understand writing and stories. It’s amazing to me the effort that you put in consistently and I so appreciate it. You are a master teacher. Those students at Syracuse must feel so blessed. I know I do.