Showing posts with label My Grandfather's Finger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Grandfather's Finger. Show all posts

Monday, September 14, 2015

Edward Swift Interview: The Big Thicket, New York, the Orphic Journey, San Miguel de Allende, the Sierra Gorda, and more


From my Conversations with Other Writers Podcast, a new transcript, from the 2012 interview with artist and writer Edward Swift. 


C.M. Mayo: Edward Swift is one of my very favorite writers. I didn't come across his work until fairly recently, however. We met in Mexico City— I think it was in 2009— at an exhibition of our mutual friend, the Mexican painter Mariló Carral. Because Mariló went on about it, I got myself a copy of Edward's memoir, My Grandfather's Finger. And I have to say, it was such a good read that every time the subject comes up I get ridiculously effusive, and I've recommended it to almost every writer I know, and lots of other people, too, and well— we'll be talking quite a bit about this very unusual memoir in the interview.

Edward is also the author of several novels: Splendora, Principia Martindale, A Place With Promise, The Christopher Park Regulars, Mother of Pearl, Miss Spellbinder's Point of View, and most recently, The Daughter of the Doctor and the Saint. I'm going to read to you a little bit from his website, edwardswiftartist.com.

"Edward Swift made his debut as a novelist in 1978 with Splendora, which the Houston Chronicle praised as one of the year's best comic novels. He has since written five other acclaimed novels, as well as a memoir, My Grandfather's Finger.


Of Splendora, The Washington Post says, "Splendora reads like an exuberant fairy tale about a young man's search for himself." And writing in The New York Times book review, Anne Tyler wrote, "Edward Swift has a particular gift for capturing the continuous low musical murmur of small town gossip. He knows how stories seem to grow on their own, drifting almost unnoticeably toward the mythical."

And of A Place With Promise— which received glowing reviews from Publishers Weekly, Library Journal, The Boston Globe, and many others— in the Los Angeles Times Carolyn See (no easy customer, by the way), writes, "A Place With Promise is a dignified, stately, intelligent book, everything a novel should be."

[MUSIC]


C.M. Mayo: It's the morning of February 22, 2012, and I'm in San Miguel de Allende with Edward Swift, and you might hear some chickens crowing, and children playing, and I don't know what. We have a lot of sounds going on here, and that's just the way it is.

We're in his workshop by his house—
 and I'm going to ask a lot of questions about the house, because it has a great story. So Edward, I am so happy to see you! I am so happy to be here to talk to you! This is really a thrill and an honor.


Edward Swift: Well, it's a thrill for me too. What in the world do you want to talk about?

C.M. Mayo: What in the world do I want to talk about? You have so many books. You have so many books! The one I love the most is My Grandfather's Finger, because it's the first one that I read by you. And you have a new novel, The Daughter of the Doctor and the Saint. You have several other novels, Splendora, A Place With Promise, and other books. And you have such an interesting life. But let's talk starting with page three of the essay that you wrote for Gulf Coast.

Edward Swift: What's on page three? I have no idea!

C.M. Mayo: [Laughs] "Come In, Mr. Proust: Remembering Marguerite Young." This is one of the most beautiful essays by a writer about his mentor, about learning to be a writer, that I have ever read.

Edward Swift: Thank you. Marguerite Young was very special to me. I sought her out. I read her book and it spoke to me, and I knew immediately that I had to not only know her, but study with her.

C.M. Mayo: And you studied with her for a long time.

Edward Swift: Four years in class at the New School for Social Research, and outside of the classroom we remained very close for about six years. And I met her for coffee almost every week, sometimes twice a week, down in the Village in New York in a little place called Reichert's, and then later on in a coffee shop called Pennyfeathers. And I was one of Marguerite's children until I was about 35 years old.

C.M. Mayo: So this was in the '70s.

Edward Swift: Yes, the early '70s.

C.M. Mayo: Greenwich Village, New York City.

Edward Swift: Yes.

C.M. Mayo: A very exciting time to be in New York.

Edward Swift: Well, it was the very last of the bohemian period in New York. Bohemian life was still alive in the Village. Now it is not. It is far too expensive now for artists to be able to move into the Village, so it's become very gentrified and full of families, and Wall Streeters, and people with a great deal of money who can afford those old brownstones and old apartment houses that we used to live in that cost nothing.

C.M. Mayo: And now they're several million dollars.

Edward Swift: Now they're several million dollars.

C.M. Mayo: [Laughs] You wrote in this essay that the image of the whale was of supreme importance to her. Quote, "To be swallowed up by the world and regurgitated, reborn with enlightenment, that," she said, "is the way of the artist. Some of you go into the whale but never come out again. Some of you go in and come out, but haven't the slightest idea you've entered another room. You walk through the door without seeing the portal."

You've been an artist for many, many years. You have written book after book after book. Your know, most people want to write a book, and never write it. Or they write it, and then it's such a searing experience they give up. But you have kept at it, and kept at it, and kept at it, and you also make art. You really are an artist, decade after decade. Do you think it's being swallowed up by the whale? 

[CONTINUE READING]






Monday, March 05, 2012

A Conversation with Artist and Writer Edward Swift


So why, when, where, and how am I podcasting? Read all about my Conversations with Other Writers podcasting series here.

New podcasts:

Edward Swift, artist and writer based in San Miguel de Allende, on the Orphic journey, Marguerite Young, the Big Thicket, the wonders of the Sierra Gorda, My Grandfather's Finger, The Daughter of the Doctor and the Saint, on being an ABT flower man, his house designed by Jesus Zarate, among a whole bunch of other things! This one hour plus interview with one of my very favorite writers was splendid fun.

>>Listen in right here.

>>Previous conversations with other writers: Sara Mansfield Taber, Solveig Eggerz, and Rosemary Sullivan.

Also new:

Abbreviated podcast-- just Yours Truly talking about my translation of Francisco I. Madero's secret book of 1911-- of the PEN / SOL Literary Magazine Reading Series event, February 22, 2012 in San Miguel de Allende is now on-line.

>> Listen here.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Writing Loglines and the Concept of the "Eyespan"

I resisted writing loglines for a long time, for I was of the school of Flannery O'Connor's famous saying (as I recall it), "if you want to know what the story is about, read the story." In other words, I believed in the mysterious resonance of literary profundity-- and, oh yeah, I still do-- but I have come to appreciate the focusing power, both for the writer herself and for her sales team (agent, editor, marketing staff, booksellers, etc, etc) of packing the whole enchilada into one super-yummy bite-- because, otherwise, you and your readers will be left vaguely wondering, um, what might it be? "A good meal?" Well, that could anything from a chunk of cheese to a 5 star foie gras extravanganza. Specificity entices.

>> READ THIS POST ON THE NEW PLATFORM AT WWW.MADAM-MAYO.COM

I just wrapped up a few days of giving writing workshops in San Miguel de Allende, and on the last day, I evangelized about loglines which I would have done anyway but it so happened that I had just, the night before, finished reading Blake Snyder's Save the Cat! a both amusing and practical guide to writing screenplays which, by the way, offers a slew of examples of great loglines. I don't write screenplays (yet) but the basic principles of storytelling are the same, whether for the screen or the stage, the page, or lo! ye olde campfire. Seriously, if you're writing any kind of story, read Save the Cat!, have a chuckle or nine, and save yourself a heap of headaches.

Snyder writes, "If you can't tell me about it in one quick line, well, buddy, I'm on to something else."

(Does this guy snazz around Malibu in a little red convertible, or what?)

Well, Yours Truly defines the so-called logline as a one to two sentence description of the book that (a) tells the reader what to expect and (b) entices.

Here are some examples from various books that work for me-- not all official, by the way, but plucked from longer descriptions on the book's jacket; others are simply subtitles; others were cooked up not by the author but by the editor and/or marketing staff:


This ultimate insider's guide reveals the secrets that none dare admit, told by a show biz veteran who's proven that you can sell your script if you can save the cat.
Save the Cat! by Blake Snyder

From literary journalist Sara Mansfield Taber comes a deep and wondrous memoir of her exotic childhood as the daughter of a covert CIA operative.
Born Under an Assumed Name by Sara Mansfield Taber

How what we hear transforms our brains and our lives, from music to silence and everything in between
Healing at the Speed of Sound by Don Campbell and Alex Doman

An epic novel about a family torn apart in the struggle-to-the-death over the destiny of Mexico
The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire by Yours Truly

Alexander von Humboldt and the Latin American journey that changed the way we see the world
Humboldt's Cosmos by Gerard Helferich

Not long ago the Big Thicket of East Texas was still one of those places singular in its southernness, like the Mississippi Delta or the Carolina Low Country; now its old-timers and their ways are nearly gone. They will not be forgotten, though, for in My Grandfather's Finger, Edward Swift recalls a Big Thicket populated by family and friends as gloriously vibrant and enigmatic as the land itself.
My Grandfather's Finger by Edward Swift

War and Peace broadly focuses on Napoleon's invasion of Russia in 1812 and follows three of the most well-known characters in literature: Pierre Bezukhov, the illegitimate son of a count who is fighting for his inheritance and yearning for spiritual fulfillment; Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, who leaves his family behind to fight in the war against Napoleon; and Natasha Rostov, the beautiful young daughter of a nobleman who intrigues both men. 
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy


All of these fall into what I think of an an "eyespan"-- an amount of text the reader's eye can take in in a "gulp." (I admit, the last example is long-- but it is one sentence.) 

If you google around, you will find a multitude of webpages with advice, and schoolmarmy formulas, for writing log lines. Such rigidity might be apt for certain industries (TV pilots?) but for books, we have a scootch more wiggle room. But not past the eyespan.

What you might also notice is that in these examples-- just pulled from the books I happened to have at hand-- the (very few) adjectives and verbs have verve:


ADJECTIVES
ultimate
singular
gloriously
vibrant
enigmatic
deep
wondrous
exotic
covert
illegitimate
beautiful


VERBS
reveals
dare
admit
prove
sell
save
hear
transform
to be (forgotten)
follows
fighting
yearning
leaves
fights (again!)
intrigues

So.... if you're working on a log line, why not make a list of vervy verbs and such from the books you have at hand? Recycling a few of them (covertly fighting! deeply yearning! wondrously transforming!) can be a felicitous endeavor...

P.S. I offer several detailed reading lists for writers here.

When will I be teaching another workshop? Probably in the summer, details to be announced. Visit my workshop schedule or, for updates, sign up for my newsletter here.








Friday, August 07, 2009

Edward Swift in San Miguel de Allende: How to Build a House Without Losing Your Mind

Definitely on my top 10 list of books read this year: Edward Swift's memoir of growing up in the Big Thicket in East Texas, My Grandfather's Finger (University of Georgia Press, 1999). More about that anon. He's not only a very fine writer, he's also an artist, and his works, like his writing, have a playful charm. Here's a portrait of the artist (taken by Yrs Truly last month) in front of his gallery in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico.

He's not only a gallery owner, he's also homeowner and he has some wise things to say (read the article here) about building a house in Mexico and in particular working with such a talented architect as Jesús Zárate. Angular and light-filled--- and filled with his own art--- Swift's small house is surprisingly spacious. View more pictures of this remarkable house on Swift's website here.

More anon.