Wordcraft blog by Avi

The Christmas Rat

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The Christmas RatEvery once in awhile, someone asks if I’ve written a Christmas story.

I have always had a particular fondness for Christmas. It was (and is) a big family holiday; the gifts of course, both giving and getting, the pretty tree, food, and family reunions. It takes place in the after-glow of my late December birthday, which I share with my twin sister. New York City, where I was raised, always had a special feel around Christmas. There is too, not a small aspect, my annual reading of Dickens’ Christmas Carol. I am, in fact, quite sentimental about Christmas.

At some point, in the late 1990s, writer James Howe contacted me—as he did a number of writers—concerning an anthology of short stories he was putting together: “Twelve stories about loss and hope.” (It would eventually be published as The Color of Absence.) I decided to see if I could write a Christmas story, something I had always wanted to try.

Some years prior to that moment, I met a curious man. The house I was living in became infested with fleas—cat problem. I had to call an exterminator. He came, sealed up the house, and set off an insecticide bomb. Then we had to sit outside for a couple of hours while the bomb did its thing, and it was safe to re-enter.

We talked.

“How did you get into the exterminator business?” I asked.

“I was in the Vietnam War,” he said. “A few tours. They really taught me how to kill. When I got out I knew that if I didn’t find a legit way to kill, I was going to be in trouble. I became an exterminator.”

This man became the model for Anje Gabrail, (The angel Gabriel) the exterminator in The Christmas Rat, who gives my young protagonist, Eric, a different way to experience Christmas—and rats. Moreover, what I began as a short story, became (to my own surprise) a stand-alone novella, a scary, tense, story—which I thought might appeal to those who wanted to step away from the more traditional, sentimental Yuletime tale, good as a Christmas read-aloud for a class of cynical sixth graders.

A fable? An allegory? Maybe just a creepy story about what it feels like to be alive—really alive—on Christmas.

Not exactly “Merry Christmas.”

(As for Jim Howe, I wrote another story for his anthology.)

Behind the Book #53: Seer of Shadows

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Seer of ShadowsWhen you think of all the images you see there is no more ubiquitous art form than photography. The first photograph is thought to have been made in 1826 (1827?) but it took a long time for it to become accessible to vast numbers of people. I have long been interested in photography as a fine art, and for a good number of years had what was called a “dark room.”

A dark room—for those who only know digital photography—is the place where photographic film was transformed into paper images. One stood in a darkened room (only red light) and worked with a projector, timer and a variety of chemicals, to create these images.  You may believe me: There is something absolutely magical about this process. To watch an image bloom in a shallow bath of developer was truly exciting.

I took photo classes at the Rhode Island School of Design. The first (class) project I undertook was to photograph public writing-signs.

During the time I was most engaged with photography I wrote Who Was That Masked Man Anyway?—a book without any description—and City of Light, City of Dark, a graphic novel which depended on visual images. I don’t think this was a coincidence.

Mary Todd Lincoln spirit photograph with Abraham Lincoln, by William Mumler, copyright Lincoln Financial Foundation Collection, Allen County Public Library

In the United States, in the post-Civil War period, photography really became popular—at least in a studio context. This was the time when “spirit photographs” came into vogue. These were photographs that reputedly caught images of spirits and ghosts. One of the most famous such photos was the ghost of Abraham Lincoln standing behind his widow, Mary Todd Lincoln.

Needless to say, such photos were hoaxes, but the public did not know how double exposure prints were made.

All this constitutes the background of my novel Seer of Shadows. The premise is simple: it is 1872 and a boy, Horace Carpenter, is apprenticed to Enoch Middleditch, a photographer who makes fake spirit images. But when Horace learns to take photographs, his images have true ghosts in them.

This is a ghost story to be sure, but it is also about race and revenge in New York City at that time.

It is also about early photography, and what I loved to experience in the mystic gloom of a dark room. For those of you who only know digital photography, Seer of Shadows will reveal what you have never seen.

FURTHER READING

 “The Photographer Who Claimed to Capture Abraham Lincoln’s Ghost,” Dan Piepenbring, The New York Times. “William Mumler’s rise and fall in the late nineteenth century put him at the center of a debate over religion, fraud, and the material reality of our immortal souls.”

Behind the Book #52: Iron Thunder

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Iron Thunder

If you enjoy reading history—as I do—it’s easy to also develop a fascination for the things, the artifacts of history. Napoleon’s hat. Jane Austin’s tea cup. Museums provide much of that, illustrated biographies add more, and there are books with titles such as The History of World War One in One Hundred Objects. I just purchased A History of American Sports in One Hundred Objects for one of my sons.

Over the years I’ve come to know that young people, boys in particular, are fascinated by things, too, whether it be a Colt revolver, or Benjamin Franklin’s eye-glasses.

It was these kinds of interests that led me to create what I hoped would be a series called I Witness. The notion was to write historical fiction with as much accuracy as I could, and insert a young person into that reality. Then I would have the book illustrated with historical documents-pictures of things—old painting and etchings– to illuminate the story.

The story of the Civil War ironclad The Monitor, and its battle with the Confederate Merrimac, had always fascinated me. To read the facts of that momentous event—and the events leading up to it—is like reading a thriller.

So it was I came to write Iron Thunder, which tells the story of the battle. A research visit to The Mariners’ Museum in Newport News, Virginia, proved captivating. Here were many artifacts from The U.S.S. Monitor itself, as well as engaging exhibits about the battle. Here, too, was the log of the Monitor, as well as letters written by the crew.

Monitor

At the time no one quite knew how an iron ship would function in battle. Would it float? Would it survive a battle? In the archives, I can recall vividly reading the original letters that one of the seamen (he was a coal-shoveler on the Monitor) wrote home to his mother, the day after the battle. “Mom, it was as if they were shooting spitballs at us.” Wow! Research gold. No surprise—that statement is in the book.

My task as a writer was to take the known facts—much has been written about this event—and shape it into a story that would engage and inform my readers. It helped to discover that there was a cabin boy on the ship by the name of Tom Carroll. I borrowed his name and told his (invented) story.

I once had a conversation with the writer Paula Fox. “The job of the writer,” she told me, “is to imagine the truth.”

The job I had as the writer of Iron Thunder was not to imagine the truth. All of that was laid out before me. My job was to give that truth life.

Behind the Book #51: Traitors’ Gate

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Traitors' GateIf you have read these notes of mine with any regularity you will have surely noticed that the nineteenth century British writer, Charles Dickens, has had considerable influence on my reading life and writing. I was introduced to him by my mother, who had a multi-volume set of his works on her shelves, and adored his writing, as countless others have. I knew an elderly English professor who read Dickens every night to his wife, night after night, for many, many years.

I don’t know when I started to read him, but in one sense of another I have never stopped. At a minimum, A Christmas Carol is required December reading, and it never fails to move me.

Traitors’ Gate might be called my homage to Dickens. Set in London, England, in 1849, it is full of references to the great writer, some blatant, some sly. On the blatant side, my protagonist, John Huffam, takes his name from Dickens’ full name, Charles John Huffam Dickens. Moreover, the plot derives from a crucial incident in young Dickens’ life, when his father was imprisoned for debt. Indeed, my novel begins:

“By the end of the week” said my father, as if speaking of a change in weather, “there’s a possibility I shall be sent to prison.”

Because the Victorians of the day were fascinated by their own society, they wrote voluminous descriptions of their world, trying but generally not succeeding in understanding it. Thus to do research about Victorian London—from the slums (rookeries), to churches, to wealthy homes, to jails—is to have a veritable library in easy reach. What food do you get in prison? How much? I found that. And maps! Wherever my characters go, they tread real ground.

The novel is in no way about Dickens, but surely it is my attempt to re-create his world and bravura writing. In truth, the most fun of all was to write characters with the broad satirical range that Dickens’ style allowed. I truly laughed as I wrote about Mr. Snugsbe, and his theory of coats which he used to explain the world. Writing a book that makes one smile is very much a task of pleasure. One can only hope readers will enjoy reading the book as much I enjoyed writing it “Imitation,” said Oscar Wilde, “is the sincerest form of flattery.”

Traitors’ Gate is my attempt to flatter Dickens.

And, if you do nothing else, do check out Mr. Snugsbe’s theory of coats. It just might fit you.

Behind the Book #50: Best Shorts

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Best ShortsIt was in 1846 that Edgar Allan Poe set down critical “rules” for writing the short story. (You can find them on the internet with ease.) Aside from writing short stories that are still read, (and scare readers) he did much to propel and establish the short story as an American form. Think of Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Updike, Steinbeck, O Henry, among many others.  Indeed, there was a time when short stories were a staple of American literature, finding publication in an astonishing array of publications, and read by multitudes. Of course the short story has long since become international: Chekov (Russian), de Maupassant (French), Trevor (English), Munro (Canadian), and many more.

For the writer they constitute a unique, and difficult, challenge. In fact, there was a time when emergent writers were encouraged to begin their writing apprenticeship with short stories before engaging with a novel.

That prolific and abundant time has passed. And yet, enough short stories are still written and published so that there are a couple of annuals which offer the best stories for a given year.

Having read (and written) short stories for years, it occurred to me that there could be an annual of best short stories written for young people. Alas, they weren’t being written (and published) in sufficient numbers to create a regular volume. Instead, working with colleague and friend Carolyn Shute (an editor) we created a volume of short stories that gathered literary quality together without focusing on a particular theme. Some of the stories are old, “Rip Van Winkle,” and some are new, such as Richard Peck’s “The Special Powers of Blossom Culp.”

What they share is excellence, all selected with an ear for reading aloud. With an afterword by Katherine Paterson, and art by Chris Raschka, the goal was to offer an anthology that gives short story pleasure in many flavors for many tastes, all designed for the young reader.

Broadly speaking, I think teachers (and librarians) miss an opportunity to share such stories with young people. Novels are difficult (and frustrating) for new writers to achieve, but students are quite capable of writing good short stories. They need, however, a template, if you will, to do so. Best Shorts: Favorite Short Stories for Sharing attempts to supply such exemplars. Or try Sudden Fiction International: 60 Short-Short Stories. Your students (and you) will be amazed.

Behind the Book #49: Crispin at the Edge of the World

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Crispin at the Edge of the World

One of the pleasures (for me) in writing historical fiction is traveling to the places where the events I am writing about (and inventing) take place. So when I was working on Crispin at the Edge of the World, my wife and I traveled to France.

Somebody had to do it.

We flew to Bordeaux, rented a car and just drove south into the Dordogne, the old Aquitaine region. We went by way of my usual careful design, which is to say without any plan at all. We also had no idea that the traditional tourist season was a week off. Lucky us. That meant that places were just opening, and we’d be greeted by such as, “We’re not quite ready for visitors, but if you don’t mind staying in the castle turret, we can put you up.”

My high-school French finally had a workout.

Overall we were wonderfully well rewarded, with visits to ancient medieval towns, and walled cities like Bergerac. I saw and experienced places that existed at the time of my book.

Bergerac

Bergerac,Dordognes, France (photo: Wikimedia Commons)

I’m not sure where I was in my first draft of the book when we reached La Force. This was (and is) a tiny medieval town, which is, in fact, completely round, because a moat had been built around it. At one point on this circle, just outside the town, was an old church. All of it was quite enchanting, including staying in that castle turret. La Force became the scene of the climactic struggle in Crispin at the Edge of the World, where Bear was mortally wounded.

I need hardly say this was in no way part of my plan for the book. But to engage the senses in real places for a tale of imagination is an enormous asset. How does it all look, smell, and sound? And oh, yes, the food wasn’t bad. Not at all.

Just this summer I went to Maryland, to visit a site which is important in the book I am currently writing—an ancient cypress swamp.

My first swamp. Somebody has to do it. Who better than the writer?

The main point is, going on such a trip changes what I am writing, gives it a kind of life it never would have had before. It’s not an accident that folks have said that Crispin at the Edge of the World is a better book than Crispin, the Cross of Lead.

I agree, but then, I was there.

Behind the Book #48: Poppy’s Return

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Poppy's ReturnI recall reading a piece by John D. MacDonald—the mystery writer—giving advice to anyone who wanted (as he did) to write a successful series. I believe he said one had to write a number of them before giving it a full commitment. He may have been correct, but when it came to writing my Poppy series, it was never intended to be a series, and it took me fourteen years to write.

1995—Poppy

1998—Poppy and Rye

1999—Ragweed

2000—Ereth’s Birthday

2005—Poppy’s Return

2009—Poppy and Ereth

And whereas in the series, as it currently stands, Ragweed is the first in the series, it was the third book written.

I can imagine if one did not enjoy the characters, writing a series would be painful work. In my case, I have always loved working with these characters, and loved to write about them. In part I think of them as family, and they are indeed full of references to my own family, though it might be hard for anyone (outside) to connect the dots.

Poppy’s Return is no exception. It was written when my youngest son was a teenager, and reflects, in content and story, the stress of those many moments. But it also reflects (and narrates) my conflicts with my own father when I was a teenager and tries to acknowledge the continuity—generation by generation—of such domestic skirmishes.

All the books in the series were illustrated by Brian Floca. He did them so well, that although I invented these characters, I now visualize them as Brian drew them. Indeed, in the whole series perhaps the most extraordinary illustration appears on pages 202-203. It should have been a double page, full page-spread, but even so it’s quite wonderful.

Now if you know the series, you may have realized there is a gap in the full narrative. I won’t say what it is, but suffice it to say, I am working on filling that gap right now. And Brian will come along for the ride—at least with his pencil, which is good enough for me.

Behind the Book #47: The Book Without Words

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The Book Without WordsWhen the phone call came telling me that I had won the Newbery award for Crispin: The Cross of Lead, truly, my very first thought was, The next book had better be good.

How to explain? It’s my experience that writers, despite an outward appearance of cheerful belief in their own talent, are quite often, in fact, insecure. It’s not hard to explain why: you sit alone and work for long periods of time on a project. You are constantly thinking, is this right? Is this any good? Will anyone like it? As one of my early mentors told me: “To be a successful writer, you have go to bed thinking what you’ve written is terrific, as long as when you get up in the morning you know how bad it is. To reverse the process is to go mad.”

And there is another level of insecurity. Win an award and the internal (and eternal) question is inevitably, can I do that again? The painful truth is, probably not. When a very young writer wins a major award, I truly feel sorry for them. They may well be chasing that award for the rest of their writing lives.

Hence my reaction to the Newbery award: The next book had better be good.

The next book I wrote was The Book Without Words and, indeed, it proved one of the most difficult books I have ever written. That was me chasing the award, wanting so much to make it good.

That said, the book was well received, and enjoyed a reception such as this Amazon posting: “This book has everything in it that my daughter loves and she treasures this book! She originally got this book at the book fair when she was younger and it got misplaced. She was ecstatic when I gave it to her to replace the one she lost years ago.”

The story, a medieval fantasy, deals with magic and alchemy. The title comes from a medieval book, an absolutely blank book. Magicians would claim they could read the book, and bring forth spirits.

Not altogether different, I once heard the poet Donald Hall explain what makes for good writing:  “A good writer writes, as it were, something shaped like the letter C. If the gap is too great, the reader cannot fill it. If it is too small, there is no reason for the reader to fill it. But if that gap is just right, the reader fills it with their own experience and the writing is complete. “

It is rather like the proverb quoted in the beginning of The Book Without Words: “A life unlived is like a book without words.”

Behind the Book #46: Never Mind!

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My twin sister, Emily Wortis Leider, is also a writer. An often published poet, she is a biographer as well, publishing books about such screen luminaries as Valentino and Mae West. Once I suggested that she write a biography of me. I even suggested the title, The Autobiography of my Twin Brother, with Corrections by Him. She responded like any good sister would: “I have better uses of my time.”

I shared that story with my writer friend, Rachel Vail.  Her response was; “I’ll write a book with you.”

Thus began our book project, Never Mind!, a story about twins.

Never Mind!

Neither of us had worked with another writer on such a project so we had to set up some rules.

(I was living in Colorado, she in New York City. This would have been impossible to do without e-mail.) We would write alternate chapters and send them on. I started off. Once I (or she) wrote a chapter, we sent it to the other, and then rewrote—back and forth—until we were set. Then we moved forward.

Rule number one: There would be no arguments, no, “You took out my favorite line!” Rule number two, each of us worked at our own speed, each worked with what the other had done or redone.

Nor was there an overall outline, but each moved the plot forward, as we saw fit, and shaped it accordingly. This constant back and forth meant that it was impossible to know who wrote what—truly joint authorship. I recall Rachel saying it was like the story of Rumpelstiltskin, in which you set out your partially made shoes at night, and then opened the door to find them finished.

At a certain point we spoke on the phone, and agreed on the final plot direction. The speed of the exchanges increased until we had the book. In the last couple of weeks, the book went back and forth on a daily basis.

At that point an editor—Elise Howard—joined in, thus making this a three-handed project.

To other writers, I heartedly recommend doing this with one crucial caveat: You must have complete confidence in the other writer. Obviously you have to discuss the book as you go forward, but NEVER, NEVER argue.

Final word: Rarely have I had such fun writing a book.

Behind the Book #45: The Mayor of Central Park

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The Mayor of Central ParkFew writers have names that become synonymous with a style of writing; Damon Runyon is one of them. As my dictionary has it, “Runyonesque: language or imagery characterized by plot or language suggestive of gangsters or the New York underworld.”

Think of the musical Guys and Dolls, which is based on his short stories. Never mind that Runyon was born in Kansas and spent most of his youth in Colorado.  But it is relevant that I, a New Yorker, while living in Colorado, wrote The Mayor of Central Park.

It is quite common for writers who have written a lot—such as me—to have a favorite book, a book which is not necessarily a favorite of his readers.  The Mayor of Central Park (illustrated by Brian Floca) fits that description for me.  While it is all it about New York, baseball, and gangsters (in this case, rats) it’s mostly about language, and having fun with it.

“To look at Oscar Westerwit you might think, hey, just another New York City squirrel. Only thing is, if you said that, you’d be dead wrong. ‘Cause the simple scoop is that this here Oscar Westerwit was a full-sized uptown romantic. And when you get an uptown squirrel who’s romantic, let me you tell you something: you got yourself a story busting to trot up Broadway like a tap-dancing centipede.”

The book had another major source of inspiration, the extraordinary 19th century illustrations by French artist known as J. J. Grandville. These satirical works depicted animals in human dress. Just to look at them is to invent stories—as I did.

The Duchess and the Duke singing a nocturne. J. Grandville, from Vie privée et publique des animaux (Public and Private Life of Animals), under the direction of P. J. Stahl, Paris, 1867. (Source: archive.org)

When I wrote The Mayor of Central Park I envisioned a series of stories in the same mode. Alas, I was one of the few readers who enjoyed the book. The series was never written.

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