Writers' Resolutions: 2019 // Nathaniel G. Moore

"Keep looking around me—only much more so—observing—but not only myself but others and everything—take things (it) for what they (it’s) are worth.” – One of Marilyn Monroe’s New Year’s Resolutions from 1955.

Tired of unmitigated Grammarly ads reminding you about syntax? Ready to step word-first into 2019? You’re not alone. Many authors have ceased partying like it's 1999 and have since returned to their social media bunkers, dusted off their antique laptop screens and ordered a new ream of Microsoft Word dot matrix typewriter paper. And while they are doing that, I thought it would be a great time to ask them for some writing tips, ask them about any resolutions for the New Year and pass on the profits to you!

Research

I asked Jackson Ellis author of Lords of St. Thomas about how much research he puts into his fiction. 

Jackson Ellis: A ton. My first novel, Lords of St. Thomas, is historical fiction based in the real-life ghost town of St. Thomas, Nevada. I contacted a very good friend of mine, Heela Naqshband, who was, at the time, a librarian at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas Library in the digital collections department (she now works as a librarian in Henderson). She was my initial source for a lot of great photos, maps, and texts on the area. I read dozens of articles about St. Thomas on the internet, and read St. Thomas: A History Uncovered by Aaron McArthur twice back-to-back. Though my novel is fictionalized, I wanted as much of it as possible to be based on reality. The way I describe the town and the dates I use for historical events are accurate. Some things are embellished, such as the flood and the size of the nearby rivers, but whenever possible, I try to represent reality. My second novel (which has yet to be published), Sugar Shack, is about a man who experiments with human hibernation in an abandoned building in his backyard. For that I also did a massive amount of research, because even though it is impossible to induce hibernation in people, I wanted it to be believable—sort of how Michael Crichton almost makes you believe that we could bring dinosaurs back to life. I read a whole bunch of online research papers about this, including articles written about NASA's research on inducing hibernation in astronauts travelling long distances. Beyond that, I studied a great deal about anaesthetics, sedation, and medical equipment. In fact, the night my daughter was born, I was asking one of the nurses the names of several pieces of equipment in the room (turns out those poles they hang IV bags from are simply called “IV poles”).

I asked Toronto author Andrew Theobald (Dangerous Enemy Sympathizers, forthcoming from Goose Lane) the same question.

Andrew Theobald: I really enjoy the detective work of research—and there is no better incentive than a great story. I always begin by reading published sources and taking detailed notes, which helps to create building blocks of ideas and to differentiate my work from others on the subject. Pleasant research tasks for this book included exploring archives, visiting museums, speaking with people directly involved in the history of the camp, and reviewing local newspapers. Making personal connections, such as when I learned that the grandfather of an old friend of mine was interned in the camp, made the months of extensive research for Dangerous Enemy Sympathizers more gratifying still.

I asked Barbara Langhorst, author of Want (Palimpsest, 2018) about how to deal with writing difficult characters.

Barbara Langhorst: I find that people are not usually all good or all bad. Instead of thinking about whether I like a character or not, I look for complexity. Even in truly despicable characters, such as Martha Ostenso’s Caleb Gare [from her novel Wild Geese], we can see reasons why he is the way he is—so terribly hateful to his family. He is driven by his devotion to the land and his feelings of resentment about his wife’s pregnancy by a man she truly loved. Instead of writing about heroes and villains, I find it is much more difficult and interesting to show characters who feel one way about themselves, yet are perceived by others in a different light. I'm currently working on a novel where three people inhabit three different realities within the same household—and each one feels completely justified in what he or she does, while misunderstanding the others. It would be easy to show one or two as mean-spirited, but there are reasons for what each does. They all have to grow to resolve their problems.

Overcoming Writer’s Block

I also asked a number of writers if they had tips for overcoming writer’s block:

Clea Young: If I can’t write, I read. Or run. Often something useful arrives unannounced when I’m plodding along the seawall, when my mind is focused on other matters, like how much I hate running.

RM Vaughan: I let the success of others fuel my keen sense of injustice. That always works.

Brad Kelln: There is a theory in psychology known as the Transtheoretical Model which helps people understand the various stages of change. One of the tenants of that model is that therapy is most effective when it is the correct therapy presented to the patient at the correct time. This is true in writing and essentially eliminates the concept of writer's block. You can never truly be blocked from writing but perhaps the issue is that you’re attempting to write a passage you aren’t ready to write yet. Or you’re trying to start the core writing of the novel when your outline for that each chapter needs more work. So I don’t conceptualize a writing struggle as a block that needs to get pushed through but instead a mismatch of timing and what I’m ready to write.

Tim Conley: Evenings, though perhaps it might just as well be done in the morning or afternoon, I open the phone book—that seemingly obsolescent treasury—and at random find a number and call it. When someone answers, I explain that I am a writer calling because just at that moment I am having some difficulty with a story that I’m writing and don’t know how to move forward with it. Could I ask for help? Almost always the voice on the phone immediately wants to know what the story is about; only very seldom does anyone hang up, though occasionally some politely explain that they are too busy, and sometimes even this can be helpful, since some of the reasons given are themselves narrative fragments worthy of being taken up and added to a nest. I am facing a work deadline myself here, so you have my sympathy at any rate, or I am trying to get my unruly kids to bed and they have me so frazzled that there is no way I could even understand your story let alone offer any ideas, or we’re just in the middle of a big poker hand here, or my English not so very excellent, or I don’t actually live here and should not have answered the phone. All of these are kinds of fictions, but let’s not say nascent fictions because all fiction is inherently nascent, that’s the charm and the power of the whole business. But most people who answer ask what the story is about, and then want to hear about the particular difficulty I’m having, and then there’s usually a couple of questions, say about a certain character’s psychology, or whether the whole thing is supposed to be funny, or what title I might have in mind, or concerning my own lived experience. Some get a little flustered after the questions, which I do my best to answer, and some say something about how interesting it all is, referring not so much to the story as to the eventuality of their being asked to help with it, but now and then a few jump right in, suggesting a brash act of vengeance, or the introduction of another character, or a medical crisis, or a shift of scene to another country or several years later, and so on and so forth. No one fails to make some sort of suggestion. And even if or when a suggestion is unsatisfying, I politely thank them, and it’s not mere politeness that leads me to do so, for after we’ve wished each other a good evening, though it might just as well be a morning or afternoon, and hung up, after talking for anything from ten minutes to an hour and a half, I’ll contemplate that suggestion, and if it seems wrong to me, then I have to think about exactly how and in what ways it is wrong, and that will almost inevitably give me a better sense of where the whole thing ought to be going, and I can take another stab at it. Or I can turn a few pages in the phone book and try again.

Jennifer Chen: I have a two-step approach for overcoming writer's block. First, I take a step back and cool down. If I rush headlong into it the block, with all my frustrations and emotion, I'll end up blocking myself further. So, I put the work down and wait. Sometimes I wait an hour. Sometimes, a week. I wait for as long as it requires for me to untangle my emotions from my work. Then, I go back to it with fresh eyes and a more objective approach. I try to pinpoint the source of my block. Maybe a character is not coming off "right," or the plot is starting to fall apart, or I'm getting bored with the piece. Whatever the problem, my second step is to start brainstorming. Writer's block means I'm sensing a discrepancy between where I want my work to be and what I currently have on the page. I need to find a way to close that gap. So, I relax, and let my mind freely jump through dozens of "what if" scenarios. Eventually, I will stumble across an idea that makes me go "aha!" (or at the very least, "hmm") and everything just starts moving again.

New Year’s Resolutions

And as for actual New Year’s resolutions?

Jean Walton: As a writer who is also a professor at an American state university, my New Year’s resolution is to put the following “outcomes” on my literature syllabi this Spring:1. Recognize the difference between well-founded and manufactured fear.2. Develop inner resources necessary to survive apparently meaningless public discourse.3. Balance despair with hope in the face of eroding democratic values and practices.4. Identify and contest paternalism of all kinds, especially when it takes the form of buffoonery.5. Grasp the significance of the line “Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.”

RM Vaughan: New Year’s Resolution: More adverbs.

Adèle Barclay: New Year’s Resolution: As I work on my poetry collection Renaissance Normcore (coming out in fall 2019 from Nightwood), I am holding the Visionary of Knives (also known as the Queen of Swords) near to my heart. This figure is where air meets water—here the winds of intellect, communication and power are deepened by waves of emotion, catharsis and intuition. I am doing my best to wield the sharp things responsibly and truthfully in my life and writing. The poems are showing up brasher than before and I am resolving to hold that forthrightness with trust, care, and ideally some sass. 

Cornelia Hoogland: My writing goal for 2019 is to “pause” my writing as often as pausing is productive. The easy phrase or image, the anticipated beat, the cliché—there are so many ways writing can trip over its own cleverness, thud into grooves. Part of this means slowing down my writing, not in a way that glamourizes the poet’s mind, but that puts me on pause as I look around, and listen. I want to become a better listener, hear what things are saying, and translate those forces or energies into my work. I live on a small island surrounded by water, which would have been the first sound sentient beings heard.

Nathaniel G. Moore is the author of Goodbye Horses (Mansfield Press, 2018). He recently published this spooky long-read essay in Toronto Life. He lives in Fredericton where he works full time as a publicist, and has known about The Ex-Puritan, in one form or the other, for over a decade.

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