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 penalty morning scribe, but in the spring of 2010 I was visiting a router-making facility in Shanghais Pudong district and evidenced thousands of workers in robins egg off-color jumpsuits constructing the material are required to pole-vault Chinas technological connectedness ahead of all other countries in our new world order. This tableau caused in me a soothing realisation that “the worlds” was changing even more quickly than Id thought it was, and that Id better shake thoughts up creatively to keep pace with it.
I expected myself a few questions: how can I steep fiction with that same fractal gumption of falling down a rabbit hole that everyone is experience when were online? How can writing compete with Netflix? How could I constrict emotion into as few messages as possible not just on a sheet but something people are able to read from a automobile at 50 miles an hour?
To this end I intentionally upended what had been a 20 -year-old writing number. No more AM clock-based passivity, softly awaiting texts that may or may not come depending on the fussiness of my muse. No more predictability; instead of sitting there feeling wistful for my pre-internet psyche, I tried to figure out what my new mentality was becoming and how that affected my scribble. So if you ask me what is my usual write epoch, I have no specific refute, precisely a series of tendencies which together characterize my brand-new writing normal.
One: I do often of my writing on airplanes. Im actually at my happiest when Im writing on a plane, and Im writing these texts on a plane right now, Lufthansa flight 1436 from Frankfurt to St Petersburg. Theres no Wi-Fi( sanctuary !) and Im having that not unpleasant hotshot 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 attire and all the women in little pitch-black full-dress go back to the office from the Embassy function to do some late nighttime C ++ coding.
Q: Would you like a glass of sea with your vodka tonic ?
A: No. Thats why God devised ice cubes .
Two: I do often of my writing in hotel rooms, especially if theres a deadline. Actually, since I wrote the above paragraph Ive landed and am now in the St Petersburg W inn which has killer Wi-Fi and interior design picks maybe built( in the highest possible gumption) by an oligarchs mistress. Theres something about being in a hotel area most novelists know this implicitly that free-spokens up ones conceiving. First you target a scorched ground do-not-disturb on your email detail( 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 a plane. None can reach you. Youre safe.
Three: I write in places connected in definable ways to the forces of both globalisation and deglobalisation: Shanghai router-making facilities; Chilean classrooms taken over by protesting students, the areas now converted into creators studios; the International House of Pancakes on the northern slope of Interstate 15 in Las Vegas. The more random and unpredictable the better.
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