The Elegant Variation: Bookmark Now Section #2: The Writing Life

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The Elegant Variation is "Fowler’s (1926, 1965) term for the inept writer’s overstrained efforts at freshness or vividness of expression. Prose guilty of elegant variation calls attention to itself and doesn’t permit its ideas to seem naturally clear. It typically seeks fancy new words for familiar things, and it scrambles for synonyms in order to avoid at all costs repeating a word, even though repetition might be the natural, normal thing to do: The audience had a certain bovine placidity, instead of The audience was as placid as cows. Elegant variation is often the rock, and a stereotype, a cliché, or a tired metaphor the hard place between which inexperienced or foolish writers come to grief. The familiar middle ground in treating these homely topics is almost always the safest. In untrained or unrestrained hands, a thesaurus can be dangerous."

May 25, 2005

Bookmark Now Section #2: The Writing Life

Section #2: "The Writing Life" was inspired by my favorite Fran Lebowitz essay "My Day: An Introduction of Sorts." In it, Lebowitz breaks down a typical day in her writing life by the hour. Most of the entries are about sleeping and smoking.

"My Day" makes me laugh every time I read it not just because of Lebowitz's heavy-eyed cynicism but how it makes a writer life seem both typical, enviable and pathetic all at the same time. My intention with the seven essays in this section section was to get at some of that. How do we live, in 2005, as writers? How do we pay our bills, manage our time, plan our careers and conduct ourselves with family, friends and lovers? How do I, as editor, make it seem as unburnished and as real as possible?

Nicola Griffith and Kelley Eskridge's joint essay is the longest in this section and the longest in coming. I had asked Nicola to participate on her own early on because at the time, I didn't know Kelley. I had always wanted the book to contain one piece from a writing couple, written together, with the interplay of their voices evident. Three different couples turned me down for fear the book would be violating their privacy. When Kelley stepped up, I brought this to them and mentioned they only need write about their relationship as it relates to their writing, then no inventorying of underwear drawers was necessary. The result is one of the better examinations of being a writer and being with another writer that I've read.

Benjamin Nugent is a New York City journalist and a referral from my editor when I moaned that I couldn't find a writer who had struggled with writing and employment, the ying and yang of a writing life resolved so beautifully by Wallace Stevens and WIlliam Carlos Williams. Ben handed in something in 24 hours which we shaped together over the next few weeks. His piece underscores the question aspiring writers and professionals obsess over equally: How can we get paid enough to live on this?

Technology creeps in near the end of the section with two hilariously sad essays from Neal Pollack (about reading one's own fan fiction) and Glen David Gold (about "Googling" yourself). Both kick sideways at the larger question of managing's one's writing life in 2005, when so much feedback, good and bad, polished and raw, is available at a keystroke.

Early reviews show that readers like this section best but I couldn't tell you why. Any idea? Why is writers talking about their lives such catnip? Why do we regard what they do as so exotic?

Posted by Kevin Smokler at 04:43 PM | Permalink

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Comments

"Why is writers talking about their lives such catnip? Why do we regard what they do as so exotic?"

It's magic, that's why. The writer waves her arms around and creates a story that can move you to tears or laughter from seemingly nothing.

The rest of us waves our arms around and gets some exercise at best.

I think Michael Korda told this story: as a youngin', Graham Greene paid a visit to his parents. Green had a notebook, and every morning, he'd sit on the patio and write 500 words. Then he'd put his notebook away and play for the rest of the day. That was his life.

How could you not look on that and think, 'Man, I gotta get me some of that.'

Posted by: Bill Peschel | May 25, 2005 at 06:06 PM

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May 25, 2005