Tag: author tips

The Three Authors of April, Part 3: Neil Gaiman

neil gaiman

Image copyright: nrkbeta, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

I haven’t been to many rock concerts, but I suspect I now know what it’s like. I went to a Neil Gaiman reading.

BTW: This is the final part in a three-part series chronicling all the author events I attended in April. Part 1 was about Colson Whitehead and Part 2 was about David Sedaris. Part three is about to begin.

The Event

After a 30-minute sojourn into Schenectady, New York, I parked on level two of a parking garage near Proctor’s Theatre, then noticed a girl with a sparkling black dress and purple hair. Only the most interesting people come out to see Neil Gaiman, and many of them are moderately goth (like the author himself).

I purchased tickets to this event almost three years prior. Originally scheduled for 2020, the pandemic said “LOL” to that plan, sweeping in like the big bad wolf to huff and puff and blow the date to 2021, then 2022. Fortunately, the final date stuck.

I attended with my brother-in-law Dan (shoutout to Dan), who read the entirety of Gaiman’s Sandman catalogue in a matter of months. Once we met up, we proceeded into the theater (theatre?) for an evening with Neil.

The Author

If you’re not familiar with Neil Gaiman’s work, you soon will be; his masterful Sandman comic series comes to Netflix in August. He’s also penned novels for adults (American Gods, Good Omens, Stardust), children’s books (Coraline), movie scripts (Beowulf), and even nonfiction (The View from the Cheap Seats). Name a genre and he’s written it.

Proctor’s was sold out, and when Neil took the stage wearing his customary all-black attire, that sold-out crowd erupted. I snagged a pic:

Neil Gaiman

That glow though.

What’s that burst of light onstage? Is Neil some sort of radiant angel? Well, no—this is just what happens when you take a picture in the dark. But hey, judging by the ovation, he might as well be divine.

To kick off the festivities, Neil commented on how this event was supposed to take place two years prior. “Sorry I was late,” he said. He then read several pieces, beginning with “Credo,” a nonfiction piece written in response to the Charlie Hebdo murders carried out by Al-Qaeda. For his second reading, he asked if we wanted something funny or scary, to which the overwhelming response was, “Scary!” So, we got “Click Clack the Rattlebag.”

After that, I lost track of the readings. I know he did “Chivalry” and “Making a Chair,” though I don’t recall the order. He also read a piece I’d never heard before and never caught the name of, mostly because I was afraid of another member of the audience.

Her name was Holly. I know this because, at some point halfway through the show, she stood up and announced her name, then informed the crowd that she’d invented a device to “solve the bipartisan machine.” This really happened—you can ask Dan if you don’t believe me. It was so bizarre and unexpected that, for a moment, nobody spoke.

Neil tried to diffuse the situation with humor. “Holly,” he said, “I should warn you, this crowd might tear you limb from limb.” Holly kept going, though, and the good people of Schenectady began to jeer. One concerned citizen even offered a helpful recommendation: “Shut your face!” At that point, Holly shrugged, said, “Okay,” then reclaimed her seat and did not speak again. I suppose the bipartisan machine will continue to chug along.

Aside from that, it was a wonderful night. Between readings, Neil answered questions, many from educators and librarians. A few I noted…

Q: Of all your characters, which was the most fun to write?

A: Delirium from Sandman. “She did her own dialogue.”

Q: You have been described as critic proof. How does that feel?

A: “I am? Oh, good.”

Q: What advice do you have for young writers?

A: “Get into trouble.”

My notes grow sparse from there, probably because I was enjoying myself. I did write “my butt hurts,” though that’s to be expected when you’re seated for two hours. Yet no one remained seated when the evening ended. We gave Neil a standing, raucous ovation. It truly did feel like a rock concert.

The Takeaways

Neil Gaiman continues to be the sort of author I aspire to be. He’s made a living from writing what interests him, whether it be adult fiction, comic books, nonfiction, screenplays, or anything else.

For me, Neil exemplifies creative freedom. And that’s a goal worth striving for.


Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include three books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

The Three Authors of April, Part 2: David Sedaris

David Sedaris

Image copyright: Harald Krichel, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

I had the privilege of attending three author events in April. Last week, we kicked off the series with Colson Whitehead discussing space crackheads. In part two, I met David Sedaris.

The Event

It was Sunday, April 10, and Sedaris visited the Oncenter in Syracuse, New York. Tickets were a birthday present from my wife (thank you Sara!), and Sara’s mom Karen also joined us.

The first thing I recall seeing: A long table seasoned with Sedaris’s many books, which have delightfully eclectic covers. For instance, we purchased a copy of When You Are Engulfed in Flames; its cover depicts an astronaut’s skeleton sinking into sand, while a futuristic spaceship crumbles in the background. It looks like an Asimov novel, though Sedaris writes humorous nonfiction. I’m unsure how those connect, but I dig it.

The Crouse Hinds Theater wasn’t sold out, but it was pretty well filled, especially for a Sunday afternoon. We sat about 10 rows back on the right side of the stage—the perfect vantage to appreciate the author’s entrance. Speaking of which…

The Author

If you’ve read David Sedaris, you’re familiar with his affinity for culottes. He often writes about them, and though I’m aware of these pants from his writing, I’ve never actually seen them—until this event.

Turns out they’re a silky, reddish-orange garment that fall just below the knees and billow when you walk. Sedaris wore his with a suit jacket. They look super comfortable, and I might try wearing them if I was brave enough (not that I am).

Other than the culottes, my notes for this event were less thorough than those for Colson Whitehead. This is because the lights went down and remained dim until the end. I had my notebook and pen ready, but I couldn’t see what I was writing. The result: My notes were even messier than usual, not to mention incoherent. What does “piece on scaffolds” mean, anyway?

Still, even without my notes, I recall the sheer coolness of the event. Hundreds of people gathered in an auditorium to hear someone read stuff. We love to make sweeping claims about society these days, one of the most common being that cell phones have killed the long attention span. Yet there we were, a few hundred contradictions, enjoying a simple reading for over two hours. Aside from quick pictures, I saw nary a cell screen.

Anyhoo, enough cultural commentary. Let’s talk about jizzum-soaked hags.

David Sedaris said it, not me. I know this because it was one of the few legible entries in my notebook, as if God really wanted me to remember it. For context, Sedaris was listing phrases The New Yorker has cut from his articles in the past. “Jizzum-soaked hag” was used to describe a woman who accosted him during a late night wander through Central Park, an episode he went into hilarious detail on.

After various anecdotes like this and a few essays, Sedaris concluded the readings with some journal entries. I’ve kept a journal of my own since this date, mostly because I want to someday sell mine like he did. Here’s an entry from the day after the event:

“It occurs to me that Sedaris leads a far more interesting life than me. If you’re reading this someday in the future and you’ve paid for it, prepare for anecdotes about Albany, New York, Taco Bell, and the annoyances of indie publishing on Amazon. I apologize in advance.”

Nobody’s paying for that—but journaling has been fun nonetheless.

Sedaris capped things off with questions. This was perhaps my favorite part of the afternoon, because, unlike other authors, he makes no attempt to be polite in his answers. For instance, someone asked him, “What’s the best state to visit on book tours?” Sedaris answered something to the effect of, “We can’t end on that question, somebody give me another.”

The Post-Event

After the reading, we met the man himself. I didn’t take notes on this, so you’ll have to trust my memory. (Now we’re both in trouble.)

The line was long, and it stayed long no matter how long we stood in it. It was for good reason, though: Sedaris talks to everybody. This isn’t the cursory chat you get from most authors, where you say, “I just love your books,” and they say, “Why thank you, devoted follower.” Sedaris strikes up an actual conversation with everyone in line.

For example, he commiserated with my mother-in-law on the disadvantages of having the name “Karen” these days. Sedaris suggested that internet fads eventually pass, so this one probably would, too. I think Karen appreciated that.

My wife and I said little during this exchange. For weeks prior, Sara brainstormed something great to say, perhaps hoping she would appear in future books. She even considered giving him a salt potato or a jar of Pastabilities pasta sauce, sort of like a Syracusian peace offering.

Of course, once we got to the front of the line, we couldn’t think of anything except the occasional, “Yeah” or, “Thank you,” maybe even a, “You were great.” So it goes.

The Takeaways

Journaling! I tried keeping a journal in college but never maintained it. Since seeing David Sedaris, I’ve had far more success. And if I ever collect the entries in a book and sell them, you’ll know who to blame.


Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include three books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

The Three Authors of April, Part 1: Colson Whitehead

Colson Whitehead

Image copyright: editrrix from NYC, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Way back in April, I attended three live author events, and I did not once get Covid. One was virtual, but still, it was a good run.

Initially, I planned to cover them all in one article. However, since each event was so informative and unique, I decided to write a three-part series instead. We begin on April 6th with Colson Whitehead.

The Author

Colson Whitehead is one of four authors in history who’s won two Pulitzer Prizes for Fiction, and he’s the only author ever to earn them consecutively. He’s written for the New York Times and The New Yorker, and in 2002, he was awarded a MacArthur Genius Grant.

To my shame, I’ve only read one Whitehead book: The Noble Hustle, a nonfiction account of the author’s forays into the world of professional poker. It was funny, witty, and well written, so I was pleased to learn the author would be speaking at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. (Bonus points if you can spell “Rensselaer” without spellcheck. I can’t.)

The Event

I attended this one from my couch. No, it wasn’t via astral projection—I watched on YouTube. Best seat in the house.

Whitehead himself attended via Zoom, though I understand he was initially scheduled to join live. He was, however, recovering from a recent bout of Covid, hence the remote attendance. He drank water and cleared his throat constantly throughout, so by the end I felt bad for the poor guy!

This was an event for writing students at RPI, so Whitehead began with advice. His overriding message was simple yet important: “Keep going. Stick with it.”

This sentiment resonates with me, especially now that I’ve completed my most recent novel. Some days I have a definite feeling of, So now what? I don’t yet know the answer, but there’s only one way to find it. Keep going and stick with it.

Whitehead then discussed his inspirations for his novels, including The Underground Railroad. The book began by taking the phrase “underground railroad” and making it literal. What if there was a railway under the earth that transported slaves? He internalized the idea for sometime, afraid to commit it to paper. Eventually, he decided “the one you’re afraid to do is the one you should maybe be doing.”

Now that is a revelation. If you’re afraid of a book, it’s probably because you know it’s important. In Colson Whitehead‘s case, his fear inspired a masterpiece.

Regarding his most recent novel, Harlem Shufflehe wondered, “Can I do a heist book? I gave myself permission.” Again, here we see Whitehead’s overriding ideology: Write what interests you.

That’s an important reminder for indie authors like me, since we get preoccupied with trends. What works for some can work for many, sure. But if we conform to conventions rather than giving ourselves permission to write the books we’re most afraid of, we must be, to borrow a metaphor from the world of The Noble Hustle, leaving some chips on the table.

The Q&A portion came next, and someone asked what his next project would be. He said he’s deciding between two: a romance story and a sci-fi story. To study, he’s watching The Golden Girls and Star Wars. This was one of several answers where I honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking.

The topic of Star Wars sparked some of my favorite bits from the whole event. Whitehead cited all the technological achievements of the Star Wars universe, light sabers and interplanetary travel and cryogenic freezing, and yet he wants to know why (and I’m quoting here) “R2-D2 can’t get a fuckin’ voicebox, I just don’t get it.” He then likened jawas to “space crackheads,” a comparison that seems apt (not that I’ve met many crackheads—or jawas, for that matter).

There were several more questions, yet one stood out to me most. When asked about the intersection of reading and writing, Whitehead said this: “Read to find out what kind of writer you want to be. Write to find out what kind of writer you are.”

The Takeaways

I’m going to continue writing what interests me, particularly those ideas I’m most afraid of. I’m going to read more Colson Whitehead books (I’ve got Harlem Shuffle on the shelf). I’m going to keep reading and writing. And you know what? I’m going to avoid space crackheads.


Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include three books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

Is an Author’s Intent Irrelevant?

Author Intent

“I just thought he was insane.”

This is one reader’s take on the titular protagonist of my novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks. I must admit, it makes sense. After all, my protagonist interacts with a character no one else can see. And, without giving too much away, he has some pretty odd experiences, ones that can’t be confirmed by any other character. So I can see why readers might think it’s all in his head rather than actually happening. The thing is, that wasn’t my intention.

Is this a problem? If readers extract meaning that an author doesn’t intend, has the author messed up? And here’s the central question: Does an author’s intent even matter?

The Writer’s Fear

I’m reading Philip Pullman’s Daemon Voices right now and I think he addresses this topic astutely. In the essay “Intention,” Pullman describes the phenomenon like this:

“What seems to be going on here is the feeling that reading is a sort of test, which the reader passes or fails according to how closely the interpretation matches the one the author intended.”

This works the other way around, too. As writers, sometimes we want our readers interpretations to match our intent. If they differ, we might fear our writing failed a test of clarity. That’s how I felt when I first received the “I thought he was insane” feedback.

Yet Pullman addresses this topic again later in the book.

“Readers may interpret my work in any way they please…Believing as I do in the democracy of reading, I don’t like the sort of totalitarian silence that descends when there is one authoritative reading of any text.”

So is Phil right? Should I celebrate this alternative reading rather than fear it?

Yes, Phil’s Right

An author doesn’t decide what’s true. Rather, truth varies depending on who’s reading it. I didn’t intend for my protagonist to hallucinate anything, but, for any given reader, that doesn’t mean he didn’t.

Plus, unintended results are often some of the best. Take any B-movie as an example. If creator intent was absolute, these would just be bad movies. Yet if audiences choose to interpret them as comedies, they become far more enjoyable.

Take, for example, Troll 2. It’s a film about a family that moves to a small American town called Nilbog, (yes, that’s “goblin” spelled backwards). They’re terrorized by the townsfolk who turn out to be goblins disguised as humans. Yes, that’s right. A film called Troll 2 is actually about goblins.

That’s funny on its own—not that the filmmakers intended it. Rather, they named the film Troll 2 in order to mislead potential moviegoers into thinking the film was a sequel to a different (and unrelated) horror filmAnd that’s only the beginning. There’s also an omnipotent grandpa, a make-out scene in which popcorn is thrown onto the participants from off camera, and this famously awful line: “You can’t piss on hospitality! I won’t allow it!” All unintentional, and better for it.

I hope Gerald Barkley Rocks isn’t the Troll 2 of books, but you get the idea. All art is evaluated by interpretation. The artist presents the pieces. The reader, viewer, or listener arranges those pieces into whatever shape they like. 

Conclusion

Feel free to read Gerald Barkley Rocks and let me know your interpretation. Because my intent is irrelevant. Thanks, Phil Pullman.


Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. His debut novel, Gerald Barkley Rocksis available now on Amazon Kindle.

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