Roundtable with Shakespeare, Anais Nin, and Oscar Wilde
Since I don't have the foggiest idea of what to say, I thought I'd invite some other folks in and have a discussion. Here's Bill Shakespeare. He's a limey and he mainly writes poetic things, but he makes them into pretty good stories. Say hi to the folks, Bill.
Shakespeare: I prefer to be called William, but what's in a name? I suppose William by any other name would smell so sweet.
Richard: Uh, okay Bill. On my other side here is Anais Nin. She's pretty well known for some of her stories too. Hi Anais, is that what people usually call you?
Anais: It is indeed. Why did you invite me here? Are you lonely?
Richard: Maybe we can discuss that later when we're alone. I need to introduce our last panelist. Mister Wilde. I'd like to get to know you better, Oscar.
Oscar: I am the only person in the world I should like to know thoroughly.
Anais: Oh, Oscar! How can you be so self-centered? Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.
Shakespeare: I count myself in nothing else so happy as in a soul remembering my good friends.
Richard: Hold it! Friendship might be an interesting subject, but I got you all here to talk about writing. To kick things off, what is good writing, anyway?
Oscar: If you want me to tell you how to write in fifty words or less, you're a fool. I'll give you the definition of a good book. If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.
Anais: That's a little silly, Oscar. How would you know it was a book you'd read over and over before you had read it?
Oscar: Ridicule is the tribute paid to the genius by the mediocrities.
Shakespeare: A tale told by a fool signifying nothing.
Oscar: Oh, really?
Richard: Wait, wait. Would you just check your egos at the door and have a little serious discussion? If I enjoy reading a book, that's enough for me.
Shakespeare: Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.
Anais: It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with, we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it.
Richard: Okay. I think I get what you're saying. It's like Andy Warhol making giant Campbell soup cans. When the ordinary is presented in an unfamiliar context, we can see it as art. When we're talking about fiction, we don't want to read about humdrum lives just like ours. We want to be taken to something different, exotic, and we want to imagine ourselves as characters living exciting, adventurous lives. That's what I aim for in my writing.
Oscar: It is through art, and through art only, that we can realize our perfection.
Anais: Well! I agree with that.
Shakespeare: Methinks it hath the ring of truth.
Oscar: Whenever people agree with me I always have the feeling I must be wrong.
Richard: Not this time, maybe. I try to write things that I'd enjoy reading. How about you all? Why do you write the things you do?
Anais: My ideas come not at my desk writing but in the midst of living. Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together.
Shakespeare: Go to your bosom. Knock there and ask your heart what it does know.
Oscar: Every portrait that is painted is a portrait of the artist, not the sitter.
Richard: You may be kind of cryptic in what you say, but it sounds to me like you agree again. Basically, write about things you know and experience personally. I try to do that. I might write about people in jobs I've never done, or in situations I haven't been in, but I can tap on my feelings in similar situations. And the really big things are universal. Love, death, birth, pain, suffering, friendship or sex are pretty much the same whether you are on a moon orbiting Jupiter or dodging Al Queda in Pakistan.
Oscar: All art is quite useless.
Anais: True. If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.
Shakespeare: When we are born we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools. I say there is no darkness but ignorance.
Richard: All of you sound negative and all of you are successful. You're each famous for your writing. I'm not successful. Not yet anyway. It sounds like I enjoy life more than any of you. Just living is worth doing. I try to take the position of the true artist, stand back and view the world from a perspective untainted by government propaganda, or doctrines, or primitive beliefs. I follow the latest theories of physicists . . . as you did, Bill. You incorporated the findings of scientists of your time in your works. I have friends. I know you all put great value on friends. I consider them to be the true money of life, worth more than gold, diamonds, or all the possessions of the world.
Anais: I was speaking of writing. I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing. Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.
Oscar: Who, being loved, is poor? Ordinary riches can be stolen; real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.
Shakespeare: It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.
Richard: I know you're all busy, have to get back to writing. You probably have a play to produce, Bill. Maybe you could mention my books to your friends too. I wouldn't mind having reviews by the three of you for that matter. They're at:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007WG427M
http://www.amazon.com/Weird-Tales-ebo...
http://www.amazon.com/Line-Between-Li...
https://www.createspace.com/3864589
Shakespeare: I prefer to be called William, but what's in a name? I suppose William by any other name would smell so sweet.
Richard: Uh, okay Bill. On my other side here is Anais Nin. She's pretty well known for some of her stories too. Hi Anais, is that what people usually call you?
Anais: It is indeed. Why did you invite me here? Are you lonely?
Richard: Maybe we can discuss that later when we're alone. I need to introduce our last panelist. Mister Wilde. I'd like to get to know you better, Oscar.
Oscar: I am the only person in the world I should like to know thoroughly.
Anais: Oh, Oscar! How can you be so self-centered? Each contact with a human being is so rare, so precious, one should preserve it.
Shakespeare: I count myself in nothing else so happy as in a soul remembering my good friends.
Richard: Hold it! Friendship might be an interesting subject, but I got you all here to talk about writing. To kick things off, what is good writing, anyway?
Oscar: If you want me to tell you how to write in fifty words or less, you're a fool. I'll give you the definition of a good book. If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all.
Anais: That's a little silly, Oscar. How would you know it was a book you'd read over and over before you had read it?
Oscar: Ridicule is the tribute paid to the genius by the mediocrities.
Shakespeare: A tale told by a fool signifying nothing.
Oscar: Oh, really?
Richard: Wait, wait. Would you just check your egos at the door and have a little serious discussion? If I enjoy reading a book, that's enough for me.
Shakespeare: Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.
Anais: It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with, we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it.
Richard: Okay. I think I get what you're saying. It's like Andy Warhol making giant Campbell soup cans. When the ordinary is presented in an unfamiliar context, we can see it as art. When we're talking about fiction, we don't want to read about humdrum lives just like ours. We want to be taken to something different, exotic, and we want to imagine ourselves as characters living exciting, adventurous lives. That's what I aim for in my writing.
Oscar: It is through art, and through art only, that we can realize our perfection.
Anais: Well! I agree with that.
Shakespeare: Methinks it hath the ring of truth.
Oscar: Whenever people agree with me I always have the feeling I must be wrong.
Richard: Not this time, maybe. I try to write things that I'd enjoy reading. How about you all? Why do you write the things you do?
Anais: My ideas come not at my desk writing but in the midst of living. Our life is composed greatly from dreams, from the unconscious, and they must be brought into connection with action. They must be woven together.
Shakespeare: Go to your bosom. Knock there and ask your heart what it does know.
Oscar: Every portrait that is painted is a portrait of the artist, not the sitter.
Richard: You may be kind of cryptic in what you say, but it sounds to me like you agree again. Basically, write about things you know and experience personally. I try to do that. I might write about people in jobs I've never done, or in situations I haven't been in, but I can tap on my feelings in similar situations. And the really big things are universal. Love, death, birth, pain, suffering, friendship or sex are pretty much the same whether you are on a moon orbiting Jupiter or dodging Al Queda in Pakistan.
Oscar: All art is quite useless.
Anais: True. If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.
Shakespeare: When we are born we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools. I say there is no darkness but ignorance.
Richard: All of you sound negative and all of you are successful. You're each famous for your writing. I'm not successful. Not yet anyway. It sounds like I enjoy life more than any of you. Just living is worth doing. I try to take the position of the true artist, stand back and view the world from a perspective untainted by government propaganda, or doctrines, or primitive beliefs. I follow the latest theories of physicists . . . as you did, Bill. You incorporated the findings of scientists of your time in your works. I have friends. I know you all put great value on friends. I consider them to be the true money of life, worth more than gold, diamonds, or all the possessions of the world.
Anais: I was speaking of writing. I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing. Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.
Oscar: Who, being loved, is poor? Ordinary riches can be stolen; real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.
Shakespeare: It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.
Richard: I know you're all busy, have to get back to writing. You probably have a play to produce, Bill. Maybe you could mention my books to your friends too. I wouldn't mind having reviews by the three of you for that matter. They're at:
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007WG427M
http://www.amazon.com/Weird-Tales-ebo...
http://www.amazon.com/Line-Between-Li...
https://www.createspace.com/3864589
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When you are reading and reviewing books again, would you be interested in reviewing my book, Devil Out Of Texas ?
https://www.amazon.com/Devil-Out-Texa...
I just posted it for sale as an ebook in Amazon. Please let me know what I need to do or send you in order to have it reviewed. It's 449 pages.
Here is the brief synopsis I posted with the book:
In the summer of 1973, a fourteen year old kid spends time with his grandfather and his friends, George Burns, Jack Benny, Georgie Jessel, and others, as they play cards at the Hillcrest Country Club near Beverly Hills, California. He later sits down to listen as his grandfather tells him the action-packed tale of his great-grandfather, the first Jewish Texas Ranger, and how his grandfather came to Hollywood to become one of the pioneers of the movie industry.
The young man learns about how his grandfather came to be friends with the early stars of the silver screen, like Tom Mix, William S. Hart, Lionel Barrymore, and Doug Fairbanks, and his grandfather's association with the great Mexican revolutionary leader Pancho Villa, the famous lawman Wyatt Earp, and other fascinating characters.
Thank you,
-Roger Raffee