I like writing, so I do a lot of it--stories, critical essays, poems (when I can't resist the urge any longer), novels on occassion. Since any sort of artist, even a modest one, needs muses, I have chosen a couple to keep me and my keyboard company.
Virginia Woolf. Woolf is one of those authors, like Melville, that I find fascinating rather than, necessarily, enjoyable. Reading her work is rather like watching a glassblower; I like the artistry of it, and the heft of the product whether it's useful or not. She has a very fine touch for multi-voiced narrative. I suppose I can see why so many critics think she was schizophrenic, but that just goes to show that they don't pay enough attention to the voices in their heads.
Herman Melville. Now Melville is wonderfully sarcastic. Buried in all his long-winded verbiage, he really sticks it to the institutions he doesn't like: missionaries, publishers, the public, any sort of hypocrite (except himself, of course). And then I'm entertained by the lots of really bad puns strewn through his novels, along with quietly blatant sexual innuendo (it sounds like a contradiction, but he makes it work). He writes good poetry, too--either very long and prosish epic or very short and emotionally impressionist.
Terry Pratchett. Pratchett is nicely snarky, also. But, mostly, he has the trick of doing slapstick with a meaning. And while you're giggling at the poor yutz who just got a facefull of cream pie, the point of the story sneaks up behind and boots you one. I'm especially fond of Esme Weatherwax, Death and Susan, and the Night Watch of Ankh-Morpork. Pratchett does lots of bad puns, too, come to think of it.
Lois McMaster Bujold. Ah, Lois. Bujold is probably my favorite; I like the politics and psychology. She actually understands that the sort of natural leader beloved of fantasy and science fiction can't work unless he's completely crazy. And, of course, I love her humor, which is delightfully dry. That's what I most try to emulate--still working. Sometime, when I get the time, I want to start writing lit crit articles about the Vorkosigan books. Lois is more fun than Hawthorne any day, and loads better than Hemmingway.
Tanya Huff. And we're back to humor. Even when she's dealing with nasty plot stuff, Huff adds bits and snippets of humor. And in the oddest of places. The most mythic of her books, the duo about Crystal, has some of the most peculiar moments of colloquialisms. It's a very effective tactic. Her little web-autobiography shows the same tendency, check it out. And if you happen to know where I can find her picture I would be delighted to hear of it. Here is also an interview with her; just a scream. My favorite Q&A
Neil Gaiman. I'm not always fond of Gaiman's prose, though Neverwhere has grown on me and Good Omens was great fun. What caught me up was the Sandman series of graphic novels. Especially since I haven't read comics since about '85; I still have a large cache of old DCs piled next to the reference books. I suppose it says something about my own psychology that I like watching that poor tight-ass, Dream, screw up his own life beyond recall. Oh well. It's a great example of how to write effective dialogue and his gestalt with the artists is pretty impressive.
Kubo Tite. There are just no words for how delightful, convoluted, baroque, precise and clean his plotlines are. Bleach is one of my favorite examples of a Good Story.
Orson Scott Card. Now Card I don't include for his stories, for there are few of his stories I would want to emulate though he's undeniably a talented and effective writer. I include him for his story notes, which are simply delicious. The longer essays usually start to get windy after two pages or so, but the little story notes are gems; if for no other reason, go pick up Masks in the Mirror: the short fiction of Orson Scott Card and read the afterwords. My favorite is the one for "Deep Breathing Exercises."
Last modified: 08/23/08
First Posted early 1999
© 1998-2009 Emily Ravenwood