Thank you, Elizabeth and Laurie, for a fascinating discussion. What I love about your work, Laurie, is the directness of it. No bullshit, no apologies, it’s all about the story on the page. A great introduction to a writer influential to you, new to me.
That directness hooks me in to Laurie’s writing, too, Mary. The absence of apologies or hedging of any kind braces me and makes me look at my own prose more clearly.
Laurie's writing is always revelatory. The description of "Autoportrait" reminds me of a slim book I love, "The Mezzanine" by Nicholson Baker, in which the protagonist simply rides an escalator in the office building where he works, during his lunch hour. It's funny, offbeat, and quite marvelous.
It isn't ALL on the escalator but nearly. He also write an incredible history book called Human Smoke that tells the story of WWII through articles, letters, etc. It was brilliant too!
Thank you for this post and its links. You've given me much to ponder. I would have said I don't care for experimental writings, but that's a knee-jerk reaction. And not true. One of the books I enjoyed the most so far this year is written in first-person plural. (The Buddha in the Attic by Julie Otsuka). I liked what I read from your links. Now I'm thinking how to put experimental writing into a play.
It's great that you spotted a knee-jerk reaction so quickly. I'll be interested in where your experiments take you with that play. And thanks for the book rec. I'll check it out.
Fascinating and a writer I must explore. (Writers—Laurie Stone and Édouard Lévé) Reading about sentences, which I too, love, I'm reminded of something I read by Annie Dillard. She wrote that someone asked once if they could be a writer. "I don't know," the teacher replied, "do you like sentences?"
Here it is: In "The Writing Life," Annie Dillard tells of the well-known writer who got collared by a university student who asked, “Do you think I could be a writer?” “Well,” the well-known writer said, “I don’t know. . . . Do you like sentences?”
I've read several of Leve's books and they're all excellent at bringing the reader to the doorstep of the author's imagination. The final leap is up to the reader.
Thank you, Elizabeth and Laurie, for a fascinating discussion. What I love about your work, Laurie, is the directness of it. No bullshit, no apologies, it’s all about the story on the page. A great introduction to a writer influential to you, new to me.
That directness hooks me in to Laurie’s writing, too, Mary. The absence of apologies or hedging of any kind braces me and makes me look at my own prose more clearly.
I think he will delight you . . . such a seductive and freeing form.
Laurie's writing is always revelatory. The description of "Autoportrait" reminds me of a slim book I love, "The Mezzanine" by Nicholson Baker, in which the protagonist simply rides an escalator in the office building where he works, during his lunch hour. It's funny, offbeat, and quite marvelous.
That sound intriguing, Jen. I’d love to read a book that takes place entirely over the course of a single lunch hour, and on an escalator to boot.
It isn't ALL on the escalator but nearly. He also write an incredible history book called Human Smoke that tells the story of WWII through articles, letters, etc. It was brilliant too!
Thank you for this post and its links. You've given me much to ponder. I would have said I don't care for experimental writings, but that's a knee-jerk reaction. And not true. One of the books I enjoyed the most so far this year is written in first-person plural. (The Buddha in the Attic by Julie Otsuka). I liked what I read from your links. Now I'm thinking how to put experimental writing into a play.
It's great that you spotted a knee-jerk reaction so quickly. I'll be interested in where your experiments take you with that play. And thanks for the book rec. I'll check it out.
What a fun feature, and thanks so much for including me in the series. So pleased our paths crossed. xxL
Me too! Thank you so much for doing this.
Fascinating and a writer I must explore. (Writers—Laurie Stone and Édouard Lévé) Reading about sentences, which I too, love, I'm reminded of something I read by Annie Dillard. She wrote that someone asked once if they could be a writer. "I don't know," the teacher replied, "do you like sentences?"
I love that Annie Dillard quote!
I will research and get the exact quote for you. This is a sort of paraphrase.
Here it is: In "The Writing Life," Annie Dillard tells of the well-known writer who got collared by a university student who asked, “Do you think I could be a writer?” “Well,” the well-known writer said, “I don’t know. . . . Do you like sentences?”
I've read several of Leve's books and they're all excellent at bringing the reader to the doorstep of the author's imagination. The final leap is up to the reader.
I'd like to experience that leap.
Oh I’m certain you do every time you underline a passage in a book or write it down in your journal!