Tag Archives: writing

Visit the Howlarium

It’s been a while since I posted a check-in with the Howlarium! Jason Howell has been inviting writers to take advantage of his challenges and tricks for some years now, and there’s always a killer essential question and a passel of samples of stories from writers everywhere in the Howlarium.

The present edition consists of chunks of writers’ stories and works in progress. If you’re a proper writer, that is to say, a writer who likes to read, you’ll love it. Go visit!

Many Persons Mirrored and Duplicated In One Person

Not nearly enough has been written about John Irving’s In One Person since its publication in 2012, so having read it just now I thought I should contribute notes of both a literary and a most spiritually didactic nature. For a synopsis one can visit any number of websites.

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In One Person’s world has a private language habit, a Shakespeare lens for everything, and a spiralling theme of crossdressers and otherwise non-gender-binary men. Irving’s trademark truly excellent characterization and cagily naive narration abound. What struck me most about Irving’s book, however, is how funny it is.  Even in the grim third quarter in which we watch most of protagonist Billy Abbott’s friends die of AIDS, we get about 500 words of tragedy and then an offhand remark that makes us laugh out loud. Maybe it’s just my sense of humor. Like when he comes after a long series of AIDS vigil sequences to his hometown for a relatively simple checkin with a dead faculty member of his school: it is discovered that the orderly has only brought the corpse out in the snow to smoke a cigarette, not to wait for the hearse. Anyway, In One Person has no gags; rather, the timing is incredible.

I would like to point out a marvellously-rendered literary surprise in the book out of fear that it may be too often missed. The arc of investigating people’s identity soars beautifully throughout the book, but the end holds a satisfying surprise. As much as the book’s title may allude to the folly of casting people into vulgar categories that support people’s gang mentality, and the phenomenon of these categories occurring “in one person,” the title is revealed in the final chapter to also represent a conceit about our lifespan, aging, and successive generations. When the son of the protagonist’s forbidden crush from the very beginning of the novel shows up, bearing the only reliable evidence of what’s become of the wrestler Kittredge (his own one person mirrored in the elder wrestler and love interest Miss Frost), Billy underscores the voice and look of the younger Kittredge, who is the spitting image of his father. As Kittredge helped Billy start off on a path, Billy is now providing perspective for Kittredge’s kid.

Here the story’s spirals finally converge: we have not only the sexual phenomena gathering in unexpected groups in one person, but also the mysteries of maturity and life experience. The son of Kittredge and his father are as one person, but also the fate of Kittredge, Miss Frost and now the young transgender student Gee fit into one person, shifting identity through time.

Irving has  been subtly warning us about this conceit throughout the book, particularly with the symbol of the yearbooks and with his complaints about terminology. As an artist who’s also struggled with the identity police over time, I really appreciate Billy’s annoyance not with the new terms, ie., transgender vs. transsexual, but with the rigidness with which successive generations of people insist on the correctness of these terms. Irving argues hereby for compassion and also curiosity: before you criticize someone older for not using the new hip term, be a fucking smart person and find out the nature of the old term.

Finally, I’m grateful on behalf of those old enough to remember that Irving has chosen now, in the age of complacent suburban gender-queerness that seems unable or rather unwilling to see itself from its socio-economic angle, to force AIDS back in our faces. People my age will always remember that AIDS was far scarier than nuclear war, and people Irving’s age get the satisfaction of having their 1980s set –properly, I would argue –in the frame of the AIDS epidemic. Think of the suburban Christian terrorism we’ve lived through since the late 80s-early 90s: the PMRC, enforced gangster rap, youth group, Faith Driven Consumer, the Bush administration, No Child Left Behind, Gay-Straight Alliance … what would Robert Mapplethorpe, Klaus Nomi, Essex Hemphill, Marlon Riggs, even Eazy-E and the local dancer, have taught us about these assholes and their judgmental phoniness if they’d made it longer??? Irving reminds us of the time not so long ago when we had to try to stick together, rather than run our campus GSA into the ground for not being suburban white gay or trans enough, because our fucking lives depended on it.

Thank you, a thousand times thank you, Mr Irving, for reminding us about all the possibilities and the cumulative richness of life that must be pursued In One Person.

Lessons for Outlining Next Book

On the topic of writing, did some heavy outlining on my next book today, which is tentatively titled “Byebye and Shlort.” It’s about how no matter how X-Men special you are, no matter how well your psychic powers work, no one will listen to you if you’re poor, because in the USA it’s a crime to be poor and poor people are blamed for their situation without any question. It takes place in San Jose!

The outline is now huge and messy, but it’s as complete as I want it at this phase. The last few years “outlining” has really evolved for me. My organization method started as a sludge of paper food boxes, ATM receipts, notebook pages and so forth scattered on my desk or in my backpack or wherever else I could keep things depending on my living situation. It was like this for almost ten years, and was a step up from carrying ideas around in my addled adolescent head and losing all the great ideas over and over.

Then those notes started to get typed into the top of the computer file in which I type the story. One lesson I learned was to tell myself what each sequence or chapter or whatever has to do with the themes, characters, plot, etc. But this didn’t stop me from being a nervous neat freak and deleting notes as they went into the story. Stupid! Thank heaven for Google Drive and other backup techniques.

Now I’ve got the outline and page numbers for where each piece of notes goes into the manuscript. If I move it, the mark can change. I’ve also broken the outline up into two documents: the short THEMES document that tells me what I’m writing about, and the outline telling me what order the story goes in. This satisfies my need not to have everything in my face at once, and also allows for the establishment of a symbolic marking system so that the themes document can explain what I’m doing to me, with marks for when such thing happens, so I’m free to forget what the hell I did yesterday.

I think this story will come out, therefore, with very little fat, with digressions and extensions distinguishing themselves, and with an almost poetic focus on the presence of the themes in every word. Did you like Meat Ladder to Mars? Wait’ll you read Bybebye and Shlort, it’s gonna blow your fragile mind.

Negro on the Drunken Odyssey

Negro participated in a podcast about a book that changed his life, writing about Rushdie’s Satanic Verses and how it’s played a role in the satirist’s life. Visit The Drunken Odyssey to get the podcast for iTunes or direct MP3! Show John King some love for using me!

http://thedrunkenodyssey.com/2015/08/08/episode-165-brian-spears/