Lonesome No More
Even though my favorite author, Kurt Vonnegut, died today, I am not sad, although I do feel very empty. I have read dozens of his books and essays and even went to see him speak as part of a panel at the 92nd Street Y. I am a writer, and Kurt Vonnegut influenced me more than any other author I have encountered. Before Vonnegut I thought the writing had rigid rules that defined all things you could possible write about and if not for Vonnegut I never would have realized how limiting that could be. I will never forget reading one of his books and it was all building towards the plots climax, which would take place at a piano bar. I was excited to see what would happen and so was Vonnegut. In fact he was so excited that simple writing was happened wasn’t good enough, he actually wrote himself into the scene, not to be involved, but just so he could be that much closer to the characters. Vonnegut expressed himself through prose and comedy and let his mind flow free onto the paper. When I write like this I write very quickly and hate edited, but Vonnegut carefully crafted every word, making it sound perfect, often struggling days on a single phrase, but in the end it was so perfect that it seemed more natural that any other writing I have seen. He was funny, ironic, poignant, personal, and brave. He fought in World War II, was captured, and survived the Dresden bombing was hiding in a meat lock labeled Slaughterhouse 5. After the war, he struggled to get his works published, but didn’t stop writing even as he worked as a car salesman to pay the bills. Eventually, his books gained mainstream popularity and more best sellers followed. Some of his books were great, while others were only average. Some were political and some were too political, but no matter what they always had a feeling of freedom and creativity in their words that made them enjoyable to read.
At one point I had read 4 or 5 Vonnegut books in a row and would have read them all, but I felt that I should save them for special occasions. After a particularly boring book or tedious book, I’ll read one. When I am very sad, I will read one. When I am desperate for inspiration I will read one. Each one is like a remaining match in my pocket as I walk though a infinitely long and dark tunnel.
Vonnegut listed eight rules for writing a short story:
1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things -- reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them -- in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.
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