People are always complaining that the modern novelist has no hope and that the picture he paints of the world is unbearable. The only answer to this is that people without hope do not write novels. Writing a novel is a terrible experience, during which the hair often falls out and the teeth decay. I’m always highly irritated by people who imply that writing fiction is an escape from reality. It is a plunge into reality and it’s very shocking to the system. If the novelist is not sustained by a hope of money, then he must be sustained by a hope of salvation, or he simply won’t survive the ordeal.
People without hope not only don’t write novels, but what is more to the point, they don’t read them. They don’t take long looks at anything, because they lack the courage. The way to despair is to refuse to have any kind of experience, and the novel, of course, is a way to have experience.
From Flannery O’Connor, “The Nature and Aim of Fiction” in Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose (1969).
I'm posting this because I am finishing up page proofs this weekend of my forthcoming memoir, LOVE JUNKIE. Bloomsbury publishes it this fall. And I am thinking about how some people quibble with memoirs when they don't have neat endings or clear redemptions or aren't tied up with pretty bows -- or are too raw or dark along the way.
My answer lies within Flannery's quote, which can apply as well to memoir. The act of writing, and finishing, is in itself an act of hope. And triumph over despair.
Curious your thoughts -- since all of you have written books. Hope you have not suffered hair or teeth loss! Rachel Resnick
People without hope not only don’t write novels, but what is more to the point, they don’t read them. They don’t take long looks at anything, because they lack the courage. The way to despair is to refuse to have any kind of experience, and the novel, of course, is a way to have experience.
From Flannery O’Connor, “The Nature and Aim of Fiction” in Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose (1969).
I'm posting this because I am finishing up page proofs this weekend of my forthcoming memoir, LOVE JUNKIE. Bloomsbury publishes it this fall. And I am thinking about how some people quibble with memoirs when they don't have neat endings or clear redemptions or aren't tied up with pretty bows -- or are too raw or dark along the way.
My answer lies within Flannery's quote, which can apply as well to memoir. The act of writing, and finishing, is in itself an act of hope. And triumph over despair.
Curious your thoughts -- since all of you have written books. Hope you have not suffered hair or teeth loss!
Rachel Resnick