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The thing that makes novels different is that practically anybody can write one if they put their mind to it.
the novel’s form is extremely broad. Indeed, that very breadth is what helps to generate its amazing, down-to-earth vitality. From where I stand, the statement “Anyone can write a novel” is not slander, but praise.
While entering the ring may be easy, however, remaining there for long is hard.
“living by the pen,”
The way I see it, people with brilliant minds are not particularly well suited to writing novels.
In my considered opinion, anyone with a quick mind or an inordinately rich store of knowledge is unlikely to become a novelist. That is because the writing of a novel, or the telling of a story, is an activity that takes place at a slow pace—in low gear, so to speak.
novelists are trying to convert something present in their consciousness into a story.
An extreme way of putting it is that novelists might be defined as a breed who feel the need, in spite of everything, to do that which is unnecessary.
Writing novels is, to my way of thinking, basically a very uncool enterprise.
tenacious, persevering temperament that equips them to work long and lonely hours. It is my belief that these are the qualifications required of a professional novelist.
So how do you discover if you have what it takes to be a novelist? There is only one answer: you have to jump in the water and see if you sink or swim.
As time passed, however, and internecine warfare between the student factions grew more and more violent and senseless—an apolitical student was murdered in the classroom we often used, for example—many of us became disenchanted. Something criminally wrong had wormed its way into the movement.
Words have power. Yet that power must be rooted in truth and justice. Words must never stand apart from those principles.
Life might have been hectic and things might have been rough, but the joy I took in books and music never wavered.
What I thought of as my youth was coming to a close. I remember how weird that feeling was. “So this is how it is,” I thought. “Time just slips away.”
Scattered applause rose around me. In that instant, and based on no grounds whatsoever, it suddenly struck me: I think I can write a novel.
language had to be simple, my ideas expressed in an easy-to-understand way, the descriptions stripped of all extraneous fat, the form made compact, and everything arranged to fit a container of limited size. The result was a rough, uncultivated kind of prose. As I struggled to express myself in that fashion, however, a distinctive rhythm began to take shape.
Such tactile memories have taught me to trust in that something I carry within me and to dream of the possibilities it offers. How wonderful it is that these sensations still reside within me!
tell the truth, I have never found writing painful. Neither (thankfully) have I ever found myself unable to write.
Readers have no ulterior motives when they shell out twenty or thirty dollars for one of my books. “Let’s check this out” is (probably) what they’re thinking, pure and simple.
It’s a very rough estimate, but my guess is that about five percent of all people are active readers of literature. This narrow slice of the population forms the core of the total reading public.
My only serious concern is this: What can I offer those book lovers next?
These are the latent readers, the “undecided voters” in political terms. They need a welcome counter to usher them into the world of literature.
When we say that a work of art is “original,” what exactly do we mean? What are its qualifications?
“Prodigies” from the book An Anthropologist on Mars:
The Rite of Spring by Igor Stravinsky.
The artist must possess a clearly unique and individual style
That style must have the power to update itself.
Over time, that characteristic style should become integrated within the psyche of its audience,
This is purely my opinion, but if you want to express yourself as freely as you can, it’s probably best not to start out by asking “What am I seeking?” Rather, it’s better to ask “Who would I be if I weren’t seeking anything?”
I have been writing fiction for more than thirty-five years at the time of this book’s writing; yet I have never experienced what is commonly known as “writer’s block.” Wanting to write but being unable to is unknown to me.
Originality is hard to define in words, but it is possible to describe and reproduce the emotional state it evokes.
I want to open a window in their souls and let the fresh air in. This is what I think of, and hope for, as I write—purely and simply.
first task for the aspiring novelist is to read tons of novels.
Introduce yourself to lots of great writing. To lots of mediocre writing, too.
Next, before you start writing your own stuff, make a habit of looking at things and events in more detail.
Someone cut out to be a novelist, on the other hand, will stop to question the conclusion he or she has just reached, or is about to reach.
the challenge is not to form value judgments but, rather, to stockpile as much material as possible in its original form.
James Joyce put it most succinctly when he said, “Imagination is memory.”
My advice, then, is to hang a sign on your chest of drawers that says For Fiction Only when you are in the process of writing.
Two principles guided me. The first was to omit all explanations. Instead, I would toss a variety of fragments—episodes, images, scenes, phrases—into that container called the novel and then try to join them together in a three-dimensional way. Second, I would try to make those connections in a space set entirely apart from conventional logic and literary clichés. This was my basic scheme.
There is a saying in Japanese, “When trees sink and rocks float.” It refers to occurrences that contravene the norm;
my rule is to produce roughly ten Japanese manuscript pages (the equivalent of sixteen hundred English words) every day.
using your willpower to control time is what makes it your ally.
Wherever a person is when he writes a novel, it’s a closed room, a portable study. That’s what I’m trying to say.