My first book, Between Camelots, is a collection of short stories -- and, to tell the truth, I didn't really know I was writing a book while I was writing. I was just taking an enormous pleasure in short fiction, exploring the form, exploring the lives of my characters, and trying to open a window onto the world through them.
One day, an old teacher of mine said, "You know, you've been at this a while -- do you think you have enough for a book?" I thought about that and sat down at my computer and realized that I had tons of work there, really -- and that there was a theme running through so many of the stories. In most of them the characters were searching to make connections with one another, to really understand one another, to be understood by others. So many of them struggled with the risks people take each day when they earnestly reach out to each other, for love, friendship, a moment of connection -- and yet they keep reaching out anyway. It was a moving experience, looking back at my work.
So I pulled my favorites together, dropping any that didn't quite seem to fit with the rest, and I moved them around until the order felt good -- and I was amazed to see that there was a book there, or at least something long enough to be a book.
The last test was sending it out into the world. I thought, Someone out there will tell me whether I've got something or not. Then Ed Ochester called from the University of Pittsburgh Press to tell me I'd won the Drue Heinz Prize and that my book would be coming out the following fall. Page proofs followed, and then review copies. Finally the book itself -- hard covers, welcoming font, paper that felt nice under my fingers. Lovely -- and poignant, too, seeing my work frozen in time between those covers.
On to the next, I guess. And this time it probably won't be able to sneak up on me. That, too, is a little poignant for me.
One day, an old teacher of mine said, "You know, you've been at this a while -- do you think you have enough for a book?" I thought about that and sat down at my computer and realized that I had tons of work there, really -- and that there was a theme running through so many of the stories. In most of them the characters were searching to make connections with one another, to really understand one another, to be understood by others. So many of them struggled with the risks people take each day when they earnestly reach out to each other, for love, friendship, a moment of connection -- and yet they keep reaching out anyway. It was a moving experience, looking back at my work.
So I pulled my favorites together, dropping any that didn't quite seem to fit with the rest, and I moved them around until the order felt good -- and I was amazed to see that there was a book there, or at least something long enough to be a book.
The last test was sending it out into the world. I thought, Someone out there will tell me whether I've got something or not. Then Ed Ochester called from the University of Pittsburgh Press to tell me I'd won the Drue Heinz Prize and that my book would be coming out the following fall. Page proofs followed, and then review copies. Finally the book itself -- hard covers, welcoming font, paper that felt nice under my fingers. Lovely -- and poignant, too, seeing my work frozen in time between those covers.
On to the next, I guess. And this time it probably won't be able to sneak up on me. That, too, is a little poignant for me.