Novelist as a Vocation

by Haruki Murakami

Talking about novels strikes me as too broad and amorphous a topic to get the ball rolling, so I will start by addressing something more specific: novelists.

FL

They are concrete and visible, and therefore easier to deal with.

Interesting thought in terms of AF

One famous example was the 1922 dinner party in Paris that brought together Marcel Proust and James Joyce.

Why should that be so? I think I have a pretty good idea. The thing that makes novels different is that practically anybody can write one if they put their mind to it.

It is still a skill though right?

Not very much is known about this qualification—indeed, it is seldom addressed in public. The reason, for the most part, is that it is virtually impossible to visualize or put into words. Yet novelists are keenly aware of its importance and of how necessary it is to sustain their craft—they can feel it in their bones. I

On the ability neededd to be a writer

Another reason novelists can be so magnanimous is that they understand literary business is not a zero-sum game. In other words, the fact that a new writer has appeared in the ring almost never means someone already there will have to step down. On the surface, at least, that kind of thing doesn’t happen. In that sense, the world of writers and the world of professional athletes are diametrically opposed.

Effective analogy

To the contrary, a runaway bestseller by a new writer can give the whole publishing industry a boost.

Although the potential number of novelists may be limitless, the amount of shelf space is most certainly finite!

pretty business centered

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. Faster than walking, let’s say, but slower than riding a bicycle. The basic speed of a person’s mental processes may make it possible to work at that rate, or it may not.

Think less

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.

He means in terms of efficiency and the process of telling a story

Yet the novelist will claim that truth and reality are entrenched in precisely such unnecessary, roundabout places.

The mundane, reframing and highlighting life

Writing novels is, to my way of thinking, basically a very uncool enterprise. I see hardly anything chic or stylish about it. Novelists sit cloistered in their rooms, intently fiddling with words, batting around one possibility after another. They may scratch their heads an entire day to improve the quality of a single line by a tiny bit. No one applauds, or says “Well done,” or pats them on the back. Sitting there alone, they look over what they’ve accomplished and quietly nod to themselves.

I think accepting this aspect of writing is important; Knausgaard struggled with this and circumnavigated it by speaking to his editor every day

That is what novel writing is really all about. It is time-consuming, tedious work.

superseded

amenable

A novelist, however, sees the idea of “a leisurely life” as practically synonymous with “the waning of one’s creativity.” For novelists are like certain types of fish. If they don’t keep swimming forward, they die.

A scary thought, but something i have felt as well

A 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.

Qualifications that may be based on something quite different than “talent.”

Angela duckworth and grit

When I made my literary debut by winning the Gunzo Prize for New Writers, I was thirty years old, with a fair amount of life experience under my belt.

Life experience is transferable

synchronicity

Nevertheless, if you are dealing with adverse conditions and the painful thoughts that come in their wake, you should take it from me that what you’re going through now may bear fruit down the road. I don’t know if this will help or not, but you should try to bear it in mind and keep moving forward.

Hopeful

internecine

Uplifting slogans and beautiful messages might stir the soul, but if they weren’t accompanied by moral power they amounted to no more than a litany of empty words.

Sounds like it came straigvht out of norwegian wood

(Not being able to “take it easy” seems to form the leitmotif of my life!)

In retrospect, it was only natural that I was unable to produce a good novel. It was a big mistake to assume that a guy like me who had never written anything in his life could spin out something brilliant right off the bat. Maybe it had been a mistake to try to write something “novelistic” in the first place.

Persistence And rewrites

“Why not forget all those prescriptive ideas about ‘the novel’ and ‘literature’ and set down your feelings and thoughts as they come to you, freely, in a way that you like?”

Being true and authentic. Dont think so much

Writing in my new style felt more like performing music than composing literature, a feeling that stays with me today. It was as if the words were coming through my body instead of from my head. Sustaining the rhythm, finding the coolest chords, trusting in the power of improvisation—it was tremendously exciting.

I really like this analogy

To tell the truth, I have never found writing painful. Neither (thankfully) have I ever found myself unable to write. What’s the point of writing, anyway, if you’re not enjoying it? I can’t get my head around the idea of “the suffering writer.” Basically, I think, novels should emerge in a spontaneous flow.

Very Kerouac

What has been (and continues to be) most important for me is my direct, physical awareness that some special power has given me the chance to write novels.

The idea that creativity comes from outside the self

I have always thought that writing was based on the ability to distinguish between inference and assertion, but I guess that isn’t the case.

Interesting thought

In all honesty, though, anyone who lacks that level of arrogance is unlikely to become a novelist.

Confidence of some sort is needed

Still, many in the world pay attention solely to things that possess visible and concrete form. Literary quality is inherently formless, so prizes, medals, and such provide that concreteness. This “form” then induces people to look.

Great point

Once the habit of reading has taken hold—usually when we are very young—it cannot be easily dislodged.

Reddit would suggest otherdwise

I am just too much of an individualist. I am a person with a fixed vision and a fixed process for giving that vision shape. Unavoidably, sustaining that process entails an all-encompassing lifestyle. Without that, I cannot write.

Murakami and his strict.schedule

denigrating

In my opinion, an artist must fulfill the following three basic requirements to be deemed “original”: The artist must possess a clearly unique and individual style (of sound, language, or color). Moreover, that uniqueness should be immediately perceivable on first sight (or hearing). That style must have the power to update itself. It should grow with time, never resting in the same place for long, since it expresses an internal and spontaneous process of self-reinvention. Over time, that characteristic style should become integrated within the psyche of its audience, to become a part of their basic standard of evaluation. Subsequent generations of artists should see that style as a rich resource from which they can draw.

Having taken the trouble to become a writer, and realizing that we all get only one chance in this life, I was determined from the start to forge ahead and do what I wanted in the way I wanted.

Something i need to think about considerding my poor grasp of time

Speaking from experience, it seems that I discovered my “original” voice and style, at the outset, not adding to what I already knew but subtracting from it. Think how many—far too many—things we pick up in the course of living. Whether we choose to call it information overload or excess baggage, we have that multitude of options to choose from, so that when we try to express ourselves creatively, all those choices collide with each other and we shut down, like a stalled engine. We become paralyzed. Our best recourse is to clear out our information system by chucking all that is unnecessary into the garbage bin, allowing our mind to move freely again.

This feels very true

Speaking again from experience, I have found that these distinctions are actually quite easy to make. One rule of thumb is to ask yourself, “Am I having a good time doing this?” If you’re not enjoying yourself when you’re engaged in what seems important to you, if you can’t find spontaneous pleasure and joy in it, if your heart doesn’t leap with excitement, then there’s likely something wrong. When that happens, you have to go back to the beginning and start discarding any extraneous parts or unnatural elements. That can be a lot harder than it sounds.

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?” and then try to visualize that aspect of yourself.

When I don’t feel it, I usually turn to translating from English. Since translation is essentially a technical operation, I can pursue it on a daily basis, quite separate from my creative desire; yet at the same time it is a good way to hone my writing skills—were

I like the bundling; quite separate pursuits but beneficial and still connectedd by a thread ofn commonality

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.

Murakami's goal

Absorb as many stories as you physically can. Introduce yourself to lots of great writing. To lots of mediocre writing, too. This is your most important task. Through it you will develop the basic novelistic muscles that every novelist needs.

Murakami on the first step to becoming a novelist

There is a limit to how much our memory can hold. Thus, we need a minimal kind of information-processing system to reduce the amount.

Major issue for me

What sorts of features? They tend to be those striking details that make you sit up straight, that fix themselves in your mind. Ideally, those things that can’t be explained away. It is best if they are illogical, or counter the flow of events in a subtle way, or tempt you to question them, or suggest some kind of mystery. You gather these bits, affix a simple label (place, time, situation) and mentally file them away in your personal chest of drawers.

part two of becoming a novelist is looking for details rather than judgement and retaining the most striking aspects

If you have stockpiled your chest with a rich variety of unrelated details, however, you will be amazed to see how naturally they pop up when the need arises, full of life and ready to be fit into the narrative.

Honestly makes me think of zetelkasten

James Joyce put it most succinctly when he said, “Imagination is memory.” I tend to agree with him. In fact, I think he was spot-on. What we call the imagination consists of fragments of memory that lack any clear connection with one another. This may sound like a contradiction in terms, but when we bring such fragments together our intuition is sparked, and we sense what the future may hold in store. It is from their interaction that a novel’s true power emanates.

The key component is not the quality of the materials—what’s needed is magic. If that magic is present, the most basic daily matters and the plainest language can be turned into a device of surprising sophistication.

I like this

I still feel like that today. I sit tapping away at the keyboard searching for the right rhythm, the most suitable chords and tones. This is, and has always been, the most important element in my literature.

In the field of human endeavor, things that seem mundane at first glance can, if you persevere, give birth to an endless array of insights. All you need to do, as I said before, is retain your healthy writerly ambition. That is the key.