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What pleases you
about the way your essay turned out? Are there any ways in which you feel
it fell short of your original goal?
This essay seems
to have come unbidden, really: I can't remember much about the writing
of this except that I sat down and finished it in about two weeks. The
piece, originally 45 or so pages, came at the end of a book of essays
I'd been working on for about a year, all of them about my father, my
brothers, and my sons; prior to writing this one, each essay had been
around 12 to 15 pages long, and I only now realize that each of those
pieces were merely circling this large one, swirling around it, making
vague stabs now and again at this story: how we all have made it thus
far. That sense of the essay's springing forth of its own is what pleases
me most: the sense this came from me, but didn't come of my own will,
but of its own.
How did your essay
develop, both in your initial thinking about it and in the revision process?
What happened in the writing of it that you didn't expect would happen?
As you can see from
its present length, about 25-or-so manuscript pages, the revisions have
sharpened the focus, honed it down more to the relationship between my
father and myself. This shorter revision is for the purpose of appearing
in Creative Nonfiction, and stands alone pretty well, I think. But I have
kept that longer version in the book itself, "Fathers, Sons and Brothers,"
as the book has a larger focus that includes Brad and Tim and Dad and
my own sons, Zeb and Jake.
How does your
experience writing in creative nonfiction depend upon or depart from your
work in other genres (poetry, fiction, playwriting, literary criticism)?
I write fiction,
for the most part, and found the writing of nonfiction quite liberating:
gone was all the worry over what would happen next and why. Now all I
had to worry over was getting down as precisely as possible what already
had happened, the story already come and gone. I merely had to write down
what I'd already known about characters I'd lived with my entire life.
Speculate about
creative nonfiction as an emerging genre in American literature. Where
do you see it going in the next several years, or even farther down the
line?
I can't really guess
where creative nonfiction as a genre is going, as it seems to me it hasn't
ever quite disappeared and won't. Just as the short story goes through
a "renaissance" every 15 years or so, so, I believe goes creative nonfiction:
it wasn't too long ago that Hunter S. Thompson and Tom Wolfe and Annie
Dillard and Joan Didion et al were dictating the direction of American
letters. Now here we are again. And this is good: creative nonfiction
isn't anything new, nor is it anything that will die.
What are the specific
literary techniques you attempt to use as a creative nonfiction writer?
Scenes? Dialogue? Specific detail, etc.?
I find in writing
nonfiction that pace, narrative, character development and visuals are
just as important as in fiction: you have to have a vivid story told vividly
with vivid characters throughout, all this accomplished with genuine dialogue,
scenes, details, body language. What else is there?
What advice do
you offer young people interested in writing?
My advice is to pay
attention to your life, whether you intend to write of it or not. But
don't make the mistake I made early on in believing that observing life
for the sake of writing of it supersedes participating in that life: I
knew I'd gone over the edge when one night while my wife and I were having
a heated argument (a fight, really), I stopped and wondered of myself,
"What would he say next?" At that point I'd kind of checked
out of my life for the sake of observing it. Wrong. Live the life, while
paying attention to it.

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