Two names came to mind as first responses to this week's question, and I’m going to
start with them although I don’t think they’re what the questioner had in mind.
Mary Travers’s Mary Poppins (and no, I’ve never seen
“Saving Mr. Banks” or the movie of “Mary Poppins”), specifically the mystery of life itself in some scenes. The most breathtaking for me was the plotline about a
baby language in which little ones can communicate clearly with non-humans, and the ineffable sadness when a baby grows out of it. To be
able to create and hold me in the belief, to let me feel for myself the nuanced
loss – as a child, I felt great writing when I read it.
E.B. White, whose
Stuart Little charmed the pants off
me. He was such a strongly defined, heroic little guy, so dapper and so loyal
to his family. And as a New York kid, his playground was my own. I loved him,
he was real to me, the best kind of real – living full inside the covers of a
book. I wanted to be able to create my own story like that.
Skipping a few decades, I gobbled up Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin novels and their very
formulaic nature helped me understand how to build a puzzle. It’s both
harder and simpler than it looks, but his snappy style and lead characters gave
me the courage to try.
John D. MacDonald
was an inspiration, not only for the long-running series, but because I won a San Francisco Examiner contest to finish
a serialized story he wrote for syndication, which gave me courage. I also
found myself pulled into the San Francisco chapter of Mystery Writers of
America as a result and that was a huge incitement to do more than tinker with
crime fiction.
I fooled around for a long time after that,
concentrating on my day job and my personal life. But I did go to the Book
Passage Mystery Writers Conference one year near its beginning, and sat next to
Sue Grafton at lunch. In that down
home way she has, she told me to get down to it, not to sell myself short, to know
every writer has horrible fears of failure but not to listen to those nasty
voices in my head, and to let her know when my first book came out. As if I
were a real writer.
It was at the same conference, I think, that Steven Saylor stood up and said he’d
come to the conference a year before, had gotten so much help that he found a
publisher, and he was now in print, or about to be. The details are hazy, the
inspiration memorable!
Dorothy Parker’s
ability to stand outside of the crowd and see it for all its foolishness has always made me
laugh, as has her wry, self-directed humor. And my favorite writer on the follies of human nature and the
pretensions of human society is clear-eyed, witty Jane Austen. I could not write without the example of Austen to
inspire me.
-Susan
I know this is missing the point by a mile but hearing that Sue Grafton still gets scared . . . ayayayy.
ReplyDeleteGreat post, Susan! It's amazing how going to a writing conference is really the first time that lots of writers feel "legit." I think it has to do with introducing yourself a hundred times as a writer...
ReplyDeleteWell, Catriona, inspiration comes in all forms. Meredith, I think you're on to something. A variation of 'fake it til you make it'?
ReplyDeleteWow, never seen Mary Poppins the movie? I love that she's your influence. Have never read the book but my sister and I devoured that movie about a million times, we can both still sing all the words...
ReplyDeleteAre you avoiding it on purpose?
Yes, Robin, I avoided it on purpose because the book was so magical, and my mental version of Mary Poppins could not have sung, or been blonde! Some time when your TBR list isn't halfway to the ceiling (I know, I know) try reading the first book, especially wit the original illustrations. A new and different pleasure, I bet.
ReplyDelete