“I was too weak to move myself, so I moved the world.”
Hemingway told me that in order to write a good story, all I needed was one true sentence.
-One true sentence?
-Yes, just one.
-And I’ll have a good story?
-Yes, and it has to be the truest sentence you’ve ever written.
-Truer than —
-Yes, truer than —
O’Brien disagreed.
-It also can’t be moral.
-Why not?
-Otherwise it’s not true. You have to be true.
-But just one sentence.
-No.
-No?
-It has to be beautiful.
-And I’ll have a good story?
-No.
-No?
-It has to be ugly.
-And I’ll have a good story?
-No.
-No?
-Maybe. As long as it’s true.
They wouldn’t believe me. They were adamant. There’s no way this is real, they said, you can’t lie like this. But I’m not lying. I know I’m not. It’s true, all true, I say. Every word. Every word? Yes, every word. Even the part about the red grass and the sun rising from the north? Yes, especially that part. The sun did rise from —
They were skeptical. They shook their heads and sighed.
-Is it a good story though?
-We — we have to say that —
-Why not?
-It’s too real.
Joyce told me that in order to write a good story, I had to write dangerously. But….how dangerous is dangerous? He smiled a mysterious smile, and then bid me good luck in his thick Irish accent.
-Yes, writing is an adventure.
He smiled.
-An adventure where?
-Yes, you will find out when you get there. Yes.
He smiled again.
A big oak tree, and blazing sunlight streaking through. Lying on the blanket, staring into her dark, beautiful brown eyes, and her staring back, transfixed, everything still, and in slow motion, our faces inching closer and closer….
-You need a strong foundation if you want to write a good story.
-A strong foundation?
-Yes. Something to ground yourself, an idea, or place, or — or a person.
-A person?
-Yes. Do you love anyone?
-Myself.
-Then ground yourself.
-How?
-You see the big grey building over there?
-Yes?
-Remember to ground yourself.
Consistency is important, but contradiction is more important. I learned that in school, that two truths is always better than one, that when someone asks “what does this all mean?” you can point left and then point right and you’ll always be right. You have to always be right. Otherwise all you’ll be left with is the left. And that’s just not right. Consistency is important. It’s true. It’s right. It’s wrong. It’s left.
Faulkner told me that in order to write a good story, I needed peace.
-But I’m writing a war story.
-Doesn’t matter. You need peace.
-Peace of mind?
-No, just peace.
-Where do you find peace?
-Out there.
He pointed toward four o’clock.
-What does it feel like?
-Huh?
-What does peace feel like?
-It sucks.
[insert silence]
[add slow breaths, inhale and (wait for it) exhale]
[add crickets chirping in the distance]
Kafka told me that in order to write a good story, it needed to wound us. “A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us”, he said.
-It can’t be happy. It has to be dark. It has to be felt deep within us.
-And I’ll have a good story?
-It has to penetrate the soul.
-Penetrate….ok.
-Yes.
-And does it have to be true?
-If you believe in it enough, it will become true.
-Even if it’s not true?
-But it will be true.
-But not yet.
-As long as you wish it to be, it will be true.
-And I’ll have a good story?
-Yes, that’s true.
I came across an old friend the other day. He was old and walked slowly, taking each step carefully and deliberately. He was in no rush, and had a warm expression on his face as he waved at me. I waved back, not sure whether or not to engage in conversation with him. But I guess I didn’t need to decide, as he turned away and slowly continued down the path, not looking back.
Beckett told me that in order to write a good story, I needed silence. He said, softly, “Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence.”
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-I can’t go on.
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-I’ll go on.
Vonnegut told me that in order to write a good story, I had to want something. Really badly. Even something small, “like a glass of water,” he said chuckling.
-I want a good story.
-So write about that. Let the reader know that.
-But what is there to write about writing a good story?
-That’s up to you.
-But how should I start?
-Uhh…perhaps a quote?
-Yes? Ok. And so?
-So it goes.
And so it goes. I should start. There is much to be said, but nothing at the same time. I need a beginning. I need an end. I want a good story. I want to say something. I have nothing. But I suppose that’s a start.
So I’ll be in the hallways, walking about. I’ll think about where I am, how to maneuver around the students. I’ll come into a classroom. I think I might ask Cathy. Yes, that sounds good. I’ll ask Cathy. I’ll come up to her, while she’s at her desk, one day, and she’ll look up, look at me, and I’ll start.
-How do I write a good story?
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