Never Ending Blog Tour

Thanks to rob mclennan for linking me in. Follow-up with these other authors, who may or may not be completing the below Q&A. I just dig them. They’re groovy:

A few of many.

Now for the Q&A:

What is your working title of your book?

Undecided.

Where did the idea come from for the book?

The subconscious.

What genre does your book fall under?

Typing.

PikachuWhich actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Kafka and Picachu.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

Lost in the wilderness of the 21st century, the author seeks a declarative sentence.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Yes.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Long. Ongoing. Intermittent.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Following loose thoughts, browsing a second-hand book store, I recently bought titles by Ivan Klima and J.G. Ballard. Also, I feel drawn to re-read Kerouac’s The Dharma Bums. Post apocalyptic existential angst might be what I’m trying to resolve here.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

I want to write like a dissident. This is a new formulation of an old thought. I want to find a voice that undercuts mass culture. Also, it needs to connect with the ancients. I want to speak human-level, individual truths, simultaneous deep joy and grief. Not simply avoid the net of mass culture but unweave it.

Marilynne Robinson said it well in her Paris Review interview:

“The ancients are right: the dear old human experience is a singular, difficult, shadowed, brilliant experience that does not resolve into being comfortable in the world. The valley of the shadow is part of that, and you are depriving yourself if you do not experience what humankind has experienced, including doubt and sorrow. We experience pain and difficulty as failure instead of saying, I will pass through this, everyone I have ever admired has passed through this, music has come out of this, literature has come out of it. We should think of our humanity as a privilege.”

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

In May 2012, my beloved wife, Kate O’Rourke, passed away from breast cancer. I won’t say “following a two-year struggle,” because it was a two-year period of revelation. But of course it was a struggle. Following Robinson, it was also a privilege, and there is nothing that I do now that means anything except to honour her, her memory and legacy and especially her honest approach to life. I walked with her to the edge of the void, and it changed me irrevocably and in ways I have yet to fathom. I am trying to write new fiction, and collate work that Kate did, blog through the experience of grief, and try to capture the truth of living through disease and death, all while parenting two step-children. I see a book at the “end” of this process, if there is an end, if there is a process.

*

Message for tagged authors:
Rules of the Next Big Thing

***Use this format for your post
***Answer the ten questions about your current WIP (work in progress)
***Tag five other writers/bloggers and add their links so we can hop over and meet them.

Ten Interview Questions for the Next Big Thing:
What is your working title of your book?
Where did the idea come from for the book?
What genre does your book fall under?
Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?
What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?
Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?
How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?
Who or what inspired you to write this book?
What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?
Include the link of who tagged you and this explanation for the people you have tagged.
Be sure to line up your five people in advance.

[Bob Dylan  – Series of Dreams]

We’re vibrating together

This is just lovely. I had to copy and paste it here.

Bill Murray interviewed in The New York Times.

Q. There seems to be so much serendipity in your life. Are you actively cultivating these moments or just hoping that they come to you?

A. Well, you have to hope that they happen to you. That’s Pandora’s box, right? She opens up the box, and all the nightmares fly out. And slams the lid shut, like, “Oops,” and opens it one more time, and hope pops out of the box. That’s the only thing we really, surely have, is hope. You hope that you can be alive, that things will happen to you that you’ll actually witness, that you’ll participate in. Rather than life just rolling over you, and you wake up and it’s Thursday, and what happened to Monday? Whatever the best part of my life has been, has been as a result of that remembering.

Q. Are there days where you wake up and think: “Nothing good has come to me in a little while. I’d better prime the pump”?

A. Well, who hasn’t woken up thinking, “God, nothing good has come to me in a while,” right? When I feel like I’m stuck, I do something — not like I’m Mother Teresa or anything, but there’s someone that’s forgotten about in your life, all the time. Someone that could use an “Attaboy” or a “How you doin’ out there.” It’s that sort of scene, that remembering that we die alone. We’re born alone. We do need each other. It’s lonely to really effectively live your life, and anyone you can get help from or give help to, that’s part of your obligation.

Q. The roles that you did 10, 20, 30 years ago, are you surprised that they still endure the way they do?

A. Certainly. When you did the job, you thought you were just trying to amuse your friends who are all on the job. I’m just trying to make the sound guy laugh, the script supervisor. A movie like “Caddyshack,” I can walk on a golf course, and some guy will be screaming entire scenes at me and expecting me to do it word for word with him. It’s like: “Fella, I did that once. I improvised that scene. I don’t remember how it goes.” But I’m charmed by it. I’m not like, “Hey, knock it off.” It’s kind of cool.

Q. Did you ever think that the lessons you first learned on the stage of an improv comedy theater in Chicago would pay off later in life?

A. It pays off in your life when you’re in an elevator and people are uncomfortable. You can just say, “That’s a beautiful scarf.” It’s just thinking about making someone else feel comfortable. You don’t worry about yourself, because we’re vibrating together. If I can make yours just a little bit groovier, it’ll affect me. It comes back, somehow.