No more clock-based passivity from the novelist, who interrupted a 20 -year routine with a decision to embrace the unpredictable
I used to be a punishment morning novelist, but in the spring of 2010 I was seeing a router-making facility in Shanghais Pudong district and witnessed thousands of workers in robins egg blue jumpsuits building the paraphernalium necessary to pole-vault Chinas technological connectedness ahead of all other countries in our new world order. This tableau motivated in me a gentle realisation that the world was changing even more quickly than Id thought it was, and that Id better shake concepts up creatively to keep pace with it.
I expected myself a few questions: how can I steep myth with that same fractal feel of falling down a rabbit hole that everyone is suffer when were online? How can writing compete with Netflix? How could I squeeze ardour into as few texts as possible not just on a page but something people are able to read from a car at 50 miles per hour?
To this end I deliberately upended what had been a 20 -year-old writing procedure. No more AM clock-based passivity, softly awaiting paroles that may or may not come depending on the nature of the fussiness of my muse. No more predictability; instead of standing here appearing wistful for my pre-internet intelligence, I tried to figure out what my brand-new mentality was becoming and how that affected my publish. So if “youre asking me” what is my usual print date, I have no specific refute, only a series of tendencies which together define my brand-new writing normal.
One: I do often of my writing on planes. Im actually at my happiest when Im writing on a plane, and Im writing these texts on an aircraft right now, Lufthansa flight 1436 from Frankfurt to St Petersburg. Theres no Wi-Fi( sanctuary !) and Im having that not distasteful wizard of soon-to-end Schengen-era statelessness the kind of transnational fluidity so accurately touted by Monocle magazine a headspace where all the men wear slim-fit clothing and all the women in little black gowns go back to the place from the Embassy function to do some late nighttime C ++ coding.
Q: Would you like a glass of ocean with your vodka tonic ?
A: No. Thats why God devised ice cubes .
Two: I do much of my writing in hotel rooms, especially if theres a deadline. Actually, since I wrote the above paragraph Ive territory and am now in the St Petersburg W inn which has killer Wi-Fi and interior design options perhaps represented( in the best possible appreciation) by an oligarchs mistress. Theres something about is available on a hotel room most novelists know this implicitly that frees up ones thinking. First you residence a scorched dirt do-not-disturb on your email note( autoreply: Im dead and hence unable to reply to your email) and second, hide the mobile phone in the desk drawer and its almost as good as being on an aircraft. Nothing can reach you. Youre safe.
Three: I write in places connected in definable ways to the forces of both the processes of globalization and deglobalisation: Shanghai router-making facilities; Chilean classrooms taken over by complaining students, the areas now converted into artists studios; the International House of Pancakes on the northern side of Interstate 15 in Las Vegas. The more random and sudden the better.
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