Mark Rubinstein spoke with the Wilton Bulletin to discuss Mad Dog House and the sorts of questions and experiences that motivated him to write the book. Read the full interview here.
Writing about what you know
We’ve all heard the old saw, “Write about what you know.”
In a general sense, that’s probably true, but there’s much more to writing than just sticking to those areas with which you are most familiar.
With my background, it’s easy for me to write about medicine, or psychiatry, or certain aspects of the army, or about courtrooms, or business matters–all of which are, or have been, part of my life. But I can’t limit myself to just those areas, easy as they may be to write about.
So the next logical question is, “If you’re going to write about what you know, what do you know?”
We all know much more than we may think we do. We’ve all had experiences in life.
Haven’t we all felt lust, or envy, or love, or anger, fear, anxiety, or sadness? And haven’t we all experienced loss, or a sense of triumph, large or small? Haven’t we all quested for something, or been scared, disappointed, or felt unsettled, worried, exhilirated, or encountered people of every stripe–those who are kind, gentle, caring, or mendacious, manipulative, even evil? Or people who are naive and childish, while others are braggadocious or intolerably overbearing?
We’ve all been to school, to parties, movies, concerts, business or professional meetings, and we’ve all had experiences as kids, as teens, as young adults, and we’ve encountered illness, threats, feelings of helplessness, hopelessness, or guilt, or shame. And at some point in our lives, we must deal with the death of a loved one, and eventually with the realization that we ourselves are mortal.
In other words, we all live life, and that’s what we know.
Gillian Flynn: The Evolution of an Author
I just finished reading “Dark Places” by Gillian Flynn, the author of the current best-seller, “Gone Girl.”
I’ve commented on how much I enjoyed “Gone Girl” and why it was such a compelling read. The most valuable thing (for me) about reading “Dark Places” was the chance to see how far Gillian Flynn has evolved as a writer with the publication of “Gone Girl.”
While I would give “Dark Places” a solid 3 1/2 stars, it can’t compare to the masterful storytelling of Flynn’s latest novel. It’s interesting to see how the author’s writing matured between the two novels. It shows that we tend to get better at doing things by simply doing them.
Loving Crime Fiction
I’ve sometimes been asked what it is about crime fiction I love, and why I write about it. I must say though, I read much more than crime fiction, and am now reading “Gone Girl” by Gillian Flynn. Though it involves crime, it’s not pure crime fiction.
But I do love crime fiction. There’s something elemental about it–something universal and intriguing about a good crime story–either with or without violence, though most depict violence to one or another degree.
About violence: violent–even murderous impulses–reside within us all. You come across them in news items about wars or murder. You certainly see bloodlust when people rubberneck while passing an accident, or go to some sporting events (mixed martial arts, boxing matches, hockey games, football and wrestling contests). Or, when you read some of the world’s greatest literature, or view the foul arc of history.
As a psychiatrist who’s done forensic work, I’m aware that violent impulses are universally present. So to pretend they aren’t part of human nature is disingenuous.
Sex and violence sell, and there’s a reason for that. Despite my years of training in medicine and psychiatry, and no matter how peaceful a life I lead, I’m still intrigued by violence and crime. And so are most people, whether they admit it or not. And that’s partly why the best-seller lists are populated by novels about crime and violence.
Writing. Inborn or learned. Part 2
If someone has an inborn talent for writing along with the desire to write fiction, it’s crucial to read, read, read, and to write, write, write.
The value of reading fiction cannot be overestimated if one wants to write fiction. It’s fascinating to read novels by different authors and see what they do-how they use language, metaphor, sentence structure, dialogue, descriptions, and how they transition from one scene to another, or from the present to the past, and back again.
A reader can learn a great deal by observing these things, by looking beyond the story’s content and observing the writer’s form. It’s a process-learning about writing by reading other writers-it happens gradually, incrementally, and without the reader quite realizing it. It happens with time and exposure. There’s no substitute for reading the genre in which you would like to write.
Again, Stephen King’s advice is worth repeating: no matter how talented you are, you’ve got to write in order to get better at it. So, while nature is important when it comes to writing, nurturing one’s inborn ability (by reading) is critical to being a writer.
Writing. Inborn or learned? Part 1
It’s the old nature versus nurture question: are some things (talents of many kinds) inborn or can they be learned.
No one has a quick or easy answer to this. For sure, a writer must have certain verbal abilities and love words, whether spoken or written. Such ability comes naturally to some people and there’s little doubt that “nature” is involved.
That being said, I’m reminded of Stephen King’s excellent book, “On Writing,” where he says, “If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot.”
Aside from mastering the fundamentals of language and the basics of writing fiction, reading fiction (if you want to write it) is crucial.
I’ll have much more to say about this in my next blog.
- « Previous Page
- 1
- …
- 3
- 4
- 5