Alice, this is truly an amazing post. This insight stunned me: "It’s great when [the bottom] consists of an admission of defeat, a relinquishment of a certain strain of eager effort, a loosening of the intellect in favor of deeper structures of the personality—a humbling of sorts..." WOW. I'm taking a few months off from writing precisely because I'm done with the eager effort. Very helpful to read this!
Ah yes, this is the big challenge: how to be inspired but not try to reinvent that particular book (or a mixture of that and another, as you say). So much of this comes from our worry that our own voice won't be enough. I think all my books are failed attempts at trying to write someone else's book, but that "failure" led to my own book, if that makes sense. You articulate this spell well, and also how to break it.
This was an insightful read, thanks! My last novel, currently on submission, is an “homage” to Madame Bovary. I thought of it as “in conversation” with that book, a kind of flow toward and away from its themes and style, but with its own source.
I’m in the process of rewriting a huge section of my novel. I told someone how I was going about it, and she encouraged me not to do it the way I am doing it (completely rewriting, not looking at old pages, everything from memory with new scenes added), but rather to do more of what felt to me like moving around what I already had on the pages, which felt like completely the wrong way to go about it, albeit more time-efficient and expedient. I really bristled at her advice and I completely ignored it, and now I realize that part of why I had to ignore it is that rewriting large parts is what will move me away from the novel that influenced it (though I think I’ll still use it as a comp when it’s time to shop it around, since it’s an amazing book!)
The spell has plagued movies for a long time. And from the top down. After an original wonderful movie comes out and is successful, the powers that be want only other versions of that. And the new versions may be good (or dreadful) but they’re rarely great or transformative. And the audience gets bored and stops going to movies and everyone says, movies are dead. No one wants to watch movies anymore. Until a new really original wonderful movie finally comes along and everyone goes to the movies to see it. Of course you’re talking about something different. How for a writer the touchstone work we love can cast the spell. But same result. The book can’t quite reach the transformative power of an original work until we break the spell of the work that haunts us.
AE, your Sundays are so consistently brilliant, thoughtful, helpful. I was thinking about just this thing yesterday, while reading a book that I believe must have been written under the spell of another. And now I'll turn around and look at me.
Alice, this is truly an amazing post. This insight stunned me: "It’s great when [the bottom] consists of an admission of defeat, a relinquishment of a certain strain of eager effort, a loosening of the intellect in favor of deeper structures of the personality—a humbling of sorts..." WOW. I'm taking a few months off from writing precisely because I'm done with the eager effort. Very helpful to read this!
Thanks, Nancy. Time off can be so...productive :)
Priceless advice… for artists as well!
Ah yes, this is the big challenge: how to be inspired but not try to reinvent that particular book (or a mixture of that and another, as you say). So much of this comes from our worry that our own voice won't be enough. I think all my books are failed attempts at trying to write someone else's book, but that "failure" led to my own book, if that makes sense. You articulate this spell well, and also how to break it.
This was an insightful read, thanks! My last novel, currently on submission, is an “homage” to Madame Bovary. I thought of it as “in conversation” with that book, a kind of flow toward and away from its themes and style, but with its own source.
I do think that's different. It's not a spell. Best wishes for having it picked up.
I’m in the process of rewriting a huge section of my novel. I told someone how I was going about it, and she encouraged me not to do it the way I am doing it (completely rewriting, not looking at old pages, everything from memory with new scenes added), but rather to do more of what felt to me like moving around what I already had on the pages, which felt like completely the wrong way to go about it, albeit more time-efficient and expedient. I really bristled at her advice and I completely ignored it, and now I realize that part of why I had to ignore it is that rewriting large parts is what will move me away from the novel that influenced it (though I think I’ll still use it as a comp when it’s time to shop it around, since it’s an amazing book!)
You are doing the big revision, I approve.
It feels like the biggest revision. (Insert crying emoji.)
Been there. Done that. Great advice!
The spell has plagued movies for a long time. And from the top down. After an original wonderful movie comes out and is successful, the powers that be want only other versions of that. And the new versions may be good (or dreadful) but they’re rarely great or transformative. And the audience gets bored and stops going to movies and everyone says, movies are dead. No one wants to watch movies anymore. Until a new really original wonderful movie finally comes along and everyone goes to the movies to see it. Of course you’re talking about something different. How for a writer the touchstone work we love can cast the spell. But same result. The book can’t quite reach the transformative power of an original work until we break the spell of the work that haunts us.
A lot to think about. Thank you! 💖 🪄
So beautifully put. When are you starting a Substack?
AE, your Sundays are so consistently brilliant, thoughtful, helpful. I was thinking about just this thing yesterday, while reading a book that I believe must have been written under the spell of another. And now I'll turn around and look at me.