Tamim Ansary

How did you become a writer?

I started writing shortly after I started reading.  I was five or so and hungry for stories and wanted  more of them than the adults around me were willing to waste time telling, so I learned to read. Then I wasn’t satisfied with the stories others had written, so I had to write my own. I remember reading a Comics Illustrated edition of Moby Dick, in which Moby Dick gets away scot free. Around the same time, in the Book of Knowledge, read the impressive fact that the biggest animal in the world was the Blue Whale. I decided to put Moby Dick in his place by writing a novel called Moby Dick vs. Mr. Blue: the two whales go head to head and Mr. Blue wins! Ha ha! The novel was two pages long and illustrated. My writing life went from there.

Name your writing influences (writers, books, teachers, etc.).

I don’t try to write like anyone else, so I don’t spend time thinking about who my influences are. My focus is on the thing I want to write and on how to get it told. Obviously I have influences but my work has nothing to gain from figuring out what they are. They’ll operate on me, through me, whether I’m conscious of them or not.

When and where do you write?

I kinda write all the time. I have an office in my basement. When I’m not writing, I’m fixing that room to be exactly how I want it: with a light I can shine right where I need it, and a shelf to put papers I might need soon but don’t need now, and a shelf for my coffee cup exactly where it will be accessible but not in the way, and so on. Over the years it’s turned into a sort of writing cockpit: I’m down there any old time. No pattern except that I’m down there a lot.  

What are you working on now?

Mostly a history of the world called Ripple Effects, How We Got to Be So Interconnected and Why We’re Still Fighting.

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block?

All the time. Every day. It’s inherent to the writing process. Dissolving the block to move forward is the job. Succeeding at that job requires, strictly speaking, something other than writing. It requires “getting into a state.” That state is one in which the thing I’m creating by writing is everything I see, and it blocks out my awareness of my own self writing it. Whenever I am not in that state (which is often) I consider myself blocked.

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received?

Peter Elbow wrote a couple of brilliant books, the names of which I’ve forgotten, but you can look ‘em up: Peter Elbow. His brilliant advice was to separate writing from editing. Pour your efforts into writing well rather than into writing something really good; be good at the process and the product will take care of itself. This has become more or less a standard line now, but Elbow said it first and said it best, at least to me.

What’s your advice to new writers?

Join a writer’s group. You know what you’ve written but you also have to know what other people have heard. That doesn’t mean they’re right, but it's information you can use. Also, writing is such a solitary activity that it’s good to seek out company; and if you’re a writer, you’ll find that other writers tend to have interesting to say (and not just about writing). But the most important piece of advice? Talking about writing is fine but not as a substitute for writing. You gotta write.

Afghan-American author Tamim Ansary’s latest book is Road Trips, Becoming an American in the vapor trail of The Sixties, a memoir set in the Age of Nixon.

Peter Guralnick

How did you become a writer?

I always wanted to write — started writing every day when I was 15 or 16, after reading Hemingway’s Paris Review interview. It was all fiction — I wrote my first novel when I was 19, published a couple of collections of short stories, Almost Grown and Mister Downchild, over the next couple of years. The non-fiction came about almost by chance, when I was offered the opportunity to tell people about this music that I thought was so great — James Brown and Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf and Skip James and Solomon Burke and Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis Presley, etc.

Name your writing influences (writers, books, teachers, etc.).

Here’s a totally non-inclusive, off the top-of-my-head list. Joyce Cary, Henry Green, Zora Neale Hurston, Grace Paley, Alice Munro, Italo Svevo, Don Carpenter, Sigrid Undset — there are just so many others, including contemporary writers like Jess Walter and Elena Ferrante and Jhumpa Lahiri and Michael Chabon and Zadie Smith that I so much admire. Here are some more. Dawn Powell, My Home Is Far Away; Laurence Sterne, Tristram Shandy (I liked the movie, too); Philip Roth: Sabbath’s Theater, Nemesis, American Pastoral; Richard Holmes, Footsteps; Orhan Pamuk, The Museum of Innocence; Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man; Taylor Branch, Parting the Waters; Paul Hendrickson, Hemingway’s Boat; George V. Higgins, The Friends of Eddie Coyle; Ford Madox Ford, Parade’s End; Anna Karenina (Pevear-Volokhonsky translation); Gerard Manley Hopkins, “Pied Beauty; Donna Tartt, The Little Friend; Kem Nunn, The Dogs of Winter; Chekhov’s stories; August Wilson’s plays; William Carlos Williams’ poetry; James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time

When I was in the 9th grade, I had Omar Pound as an English teacher. He assigned three stories a week — and it was a wonderful opportunity to put some of my inchoate thoughts, ideas, and aspirations into practice.

When and where do you write? 

I’ve always written at home — in a room of my own! No, seriously, that’s been the one thing I’ve been most concerned about in every move I have ever made. Where will I write?

What are you working on now? 

Some short stories, a profile of Dick Curless that I’ve been meaning to do for the last 10 or 15 years (I interviewed Dick and his wife extensively for the album my son, Jake, produced on him, Traveling Through, in 1995. One of the most soulful albums I know.)

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block? 

Not really, but kind of. Sometimes I’ve been overwhelmed by how much I think I have to say (this is with non-fiction particularly), and I have to wait a little for it to settle. In a way it’s become more difficult for the years — though I may not be remembering the past that well. (We all tend to skate over remembered difficulties.) With these recent short stories I just sit there sometimes and think, What is this shit? This is just never going to go anywhere. And maybe it won’t. But all I know to do is just to keep my head down and work my way through it. My grandfather always said, “Keep your eye on the ball,” good advice for baseball and life. And, you know, when I look back at my writing notebooks from 20 or 30 years ago (or more), I guess it’s always been the same. But it’s hard sometimes.

What’s your advice to new writers?

Write every day that you can. Live a real life. Don’t look for validation. Trust yourself. Always be ready to make that empathetic leap.

Peter Guralnick has been called "a national resource" by critic Nat Hentoff for work that has argued passionately and persuasively for the vitality of this country’s intertwined black and white musical traditions. His books include the prize-winning two-volume biography of Elvis Presley, Last Train to Memphis and Careless Love; Sweet Soul Music; and Dream Boogie: The Triumph of Sam Cooke. His latest work, Sam Phillips: The Man Who Invented Rock ‘n’ Roll, was a finalist for the Plutarch Award for Best Biography of the Year, awarded by the Biographers International Organization.

Beatrice Colin

How did you become a writer?

I used to write a lot as a child, making stories out of the words we were given to learn to spell at school. My spelling could be better but even then I loved making stuff up. I created what was known as a “fanzine” when I was fifteen, interviewing bands and writing reviews.  Most of it was typed by my mom and I then photocopied and sold it. I think the money I made just about covered my costs.  I suppose you can consider yourself a writer when someone pays you and so my first gig was as visual art reviews for a small listings magazine in Edinburgh. The pay, however, was very bad and so I reviewed anything they would give me; theatre, books, shows for the Edinburgh Festival, restaurants. You had to write a lot to make any money but it was fun and I was grateful for the experience. I graduated to writing longer pieces and I was a fashion editor for a few years.  I was writing short stories too and one won a competition run by the BBC Radio for young writers. That encouraged me enough to keep writing fiction. Ever since then I’ve written prose and drama for radio.

Name your writing influences (writers, books, teachers, etc.).

It’s hard to pick any one influence. I love many writers for different reasons, Muriel Spark for her playful tone, Nabokov for the way he uses language and Carver for his economy. I never studied writing but think you can learn a great deal from reading widely. Badly written books can often teach you as much as well-written ones. For example, after reading one poorly-written novel, I went back to my first, then unpublished, book and cut out all the adjectives. It was so much better and then found a publisher.

When and where do you write? 

I am lucky enough to have a small study at home. I am a morning person and most of my best writing is done before lunch. Late night fiddling, however, can also be good. I teach at Strathclyde University and it’s it hard to find time to work during the two semesters but that’s the price I pay for having a regular wage.

What are you working on now? 

I’m working on a novel about the wife of a Scottish plant hunter. It’s set around 1912, just before the Great War. Many plant hunters were Scottish and were obsessed with discovering plants in remote places.

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block? 

I often find myself ‘stuck’. Sometimes a walk will resolve it and sometimes you just have to see it as part of the process and go away and do something else. The next day everything usually clears. I don’t have any huge blocks – I have a stack of ideas that I haven’t had time to write.

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received?

My first agent, a man called Giles Gordon, was very supportive. He took me on when I’d only written some short stories and a screenplay. He suggested I turn the screenplay into a novel. If someone else has faith in you it’s easier to start. He was also on my side when the rejection letters piled up and proclaimed that the editors were all idiots. I think he taught me to write for myself and realise that you can never please everyone so why bother trying. He died, unfortunately, but my current agent is equally amazing. 

What’s your advice to new writers?

Write the kind of book that you want to read. A novel that reads well takes a long time to write, so write, rewrite and then put away for a while and read again with ‘fresh eyes.’ If you can’t stand the sight of your words change the font.

Beatrice Colin is the author of the novel To Capture What We Cannot Keep which is published in the US by Flatiron Books. It is also by published in the UK, Australia, Germany, Italy, Brazil, Poland and the Czech Republic.

She also wrote The Luminous Life of Lilly Aphrodite (published as The Glimmer Palace in the US) and The Songwriter. She has been shortlisted for a British Book Award, a Saltire Award and a Scottish Arts Council Book of the Year Award and writes short stories, screen and radio plays and for children.

One of her children's novels, My Invisible Sister (with Sara Pinto) has been made into a film for TV by Disney in the US. Her novel for children, Pyrate’s Boy is written under the name E.B. Colin and published by Floris Books.

Beatrice is a Lecturer in Creative Writing at Strathclyde University in Glasgow. Her website is www.beatricecolin.com. Her new book has its own website: http://www.tocapturewhatwecannotkeep.com.