No more clock-based passivity from the novelist, who disrupted a 20 -year routine with a decision to embrace the unpredictable
I used to be a penalized morning columnist, but in the spring of 2010 I was seeing a router-making facility in Shanghais Pudong district and watched thousands of workers in robins egg off-color jumpsuits improving the paraphernalium necessary to pole-vault Chinas technological connectedness ahead of all other countries in our new international order. This tableau inspired 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 questioned myself a few questions: how can I steep fiction with that same fractal gumption of falling down a rabbit hole that we all event when were online? How can writing compete with Netflix? How could I compress excitement into as few paroles as possible not only on a page but something people are able to speak from a vehicle at 50 miles per hour?
To this end I deliberately upended what had been a 20 -year-old writing routine. No more AM clock-based passivity, calmly awaiting words that are able to or is not able to originated is dependent on the fussiness of my muse. No more predictability; instead of sitting there seeming wistful for my pre-internet mentality, I tried to figure out what my brand-new psyche was becoming and how that affected my letter. So if “youre asking me” what is my typical create day, I have no specific reaction, precisely a series of tendencies which together define my new writing normal.
One: I do much of my writing on aircrafts. Im actually at my happiest when Im writing on a plane, and Im writing these terms on an aircraft right now, Lufthansa flight 1436 from Frankfurt to Saint petersburg. Theres no Wi-Fi( sanctuary !) and Im having that not distressing agitation 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 garment and all the women in little black garments go back to the agency from the Embassy function to do some late night C ++ coding.
Q: Would you like a glass of ocean with your vodka tonic ?
A: No. Thats why God invented 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 hotel which has killer Wi-Fi and interior design options possibly drew( in the best possible appreciation) by an oligarchs mistress. Theres something about being in a inn room most writers know this implicitly that free-spokens up ones reputing. First you place a scorched world do-not-disturb on your email chronicle( 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. Nothing 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 affirming students, the rooms now converted into masters studios; the International House of Pancakes on the north surface of Interstate 15 in Las Vegas. The more random and surprising the better.
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