Recently I had the opportunity to sit in on a craft talk in which the wonderful Ruth Ozeki shared her process while writing The Book of Form and Emptiness, as well as her other books, including A Tale for the Time Being. Ozeki’s answers often sound as id they are answering multiple lines of inquiry at the same time before you’ve even formulated said question, so we ended up discussing many things. (If this is kind of thing sounds interesting to you, check out The Seventh Wave's ongoing series of Process Talks.)
When writing a novel, Ozeki tries to stay open to the world. "The looser I can be right up until the end, the better." She shared with us the policy she had for herself while writing Form and Emptiness, which was to allow the world to change the book at any moment: any remotely compelling object or idea that came into her life, she put it in the book to see what would happen.
You could argue that since Form and Emptiness happens to be a book about stuff and our attachments to it, those themes make it a book uniquely well-suited for Ozeki's Katamari-esque strategy. Not every book can hold up to such a maximalist practice. But when I’m giving feedback to a writer, it’s much more common for me to suggest they insert a scene, write further into an undeveloped character trait, or just experiment and see where it goes. Of course, I do also make suggestions about what to cut, but cutting back is the easy part—you can't cut what's not there.
At the point I am in the writing process on my new novel—which is to say, stalled at the very beginning with too few pages and too many ideas, anxious that the story will run away and do it's own thing too soon—this was a good reminder to not leave the narrative up to just myself, but to introduce an element of randomness or play in order to sabotage my plans so that I might get lost again.
If you feel like joining me tonight to celebrate some wonderfully weird fiction, I’ll be talking with John Elizabeth Stintzi about their new novel My Volcano. We get started at 6pm PST, and you can register through City Lights.
And yes, okay, this is a newsletter, so in light of the fact that there has recently been some news about the book that I have already written, I should say here that A Natural History of Transition was listed as a finalist recently for the Lambda Literary Award in Transgender Fiction, the Edmund White Award for Debut Fiction, and the Oregon Book Award/Ken Kesey Award in Fiction. And despite the fact that I’ve buried this at the end of this missive, I am very, very happy about all three! Over the moon! Still internalizing it, if I’m honest, but just so pleased to be alongside these writers, some of whom are new friends, and some of whom I’ve known for awhile, and a few I’ve only admired from afar — it’s a huge honor.
What I’m Reading
The Biosphere by Ukrainian-Russian geochemist Vladimir Vernadsky. First published in 1926 but not translated into English in full until 1986, the book considers the thin crust of life on the earth’s surface—which includes us, sea stars, trees and everything in between—as a vital and overlooked influence on the geology of our world. Life as vital ingredient of everchanging rock—how unlikely, how wonderful, and perhaps just another way of interpreting holistic relationships between animate and inanimate beings.
Publishing Opportunities
The Massachusetts Review seeks submissions of poetry, fiction, nonfiction, and hybrid work for a forthcoming issue spotlighting work by disabled and/or D/deaf artists, guest-edited by Khairani Barokka and Cyree Jarelle Johnson. Deadline June 1.
We Need Diverse Books is accepting applications to fund internships in both children’s and adult publishing. Twenty-four grants of $3,000 each will be awarded. Deadline May 1.
The Centrum Emerging Writers Residency in Port Townsend, WA, is open for applications until March 31 for a month-long residency to take place in October. $1500 stipend, open to writers from Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Montana, Alaska, and British Columbia.
Nat. Brut is open for submissions of fiction, nonfiction, comics, and poetry until May 7.
beestung magazine “exclusively publishes writers under the two-spirit and non-binary umbrellas”, and they are open for submissions of speculative work in all genres from April 5 - July 5.
So agree that working new ideas discovered from other reading, news, etc. into my books is a universally positive thing for writers that often stimulates original thoughts of my own as well. Writers should always be open to outside input, i.e., to life.