Frances Greenslade's Blog - Posts Tagged "chilcotin"
Eclectic Reading
I'm posting the blog from my website here because it's something I've been thinking about a lot lately as unread novels pile up under my (now full) bookshelf.
I've started writing a new novel and I've been noticing how eclectic my reading habits get when I'm writing fiction. I have six partially read books on the floor by my desk, several more upstairs by my bed, and a few in the living room. When I was writing Shelter, I read books about survival, about building homes in the wilderness, about sailing adventures (or canoeing or kayaking). I read all my son's Gary Paulsen books; Hatchet is the first one -- what a great book. I read and re-read The Curve of Time by M. Wylie Blanchet, an account of a woman's voyage up and down the coast of British Columbia on a 25-foot boat with her five children. And I read and re-read Driftwood Valley, one of my favourite non-fiction books. Rita mentions in Shelter that it influenced her. It was written in 1946 by Theodora C. Stanwell-Fletcher about building a cabin in the woods in Northern British Columbia.
I also burned through books of mythology, fairytales, memoirs by people who had lived in the Chilcotin, and naturalist guides to edible plants. What I didn't read very much of, at least when I was writing first drafts, was fiction. I can't seem to read much fiction when I'm writing fiction. I do dip into various novels. Anything by Virginia Woolf was a favourite when I was writing Shelter. I'd open Mrs. Dalloway or The Waves at random, read a few pages, then put it away. It was kind of like knocking back a shot of espresso. I'd feel energized, a little feverish to try and go as deep as she could. I chose her partly because my writing is so different from hers. If Hemingway's writing was like an iceberg, only 1/8 revealed on the surface, with the other 7/8 hidden below, Woolf is down there swimming around under the ice in that shimmering world.
When I'm writing fiction, it's hard to read fiction because it takes me into someone else's world and I want to be in the world of my novel. I know I also walk around with a slightly vacant look on my face. I'm not a good conversationalist. I heard Neil Young say once that writing was the one thing he did where he didn't feel like he should be doing something else. Or to quote the Littlest Hobo, "there's a voice that keeps calling me..."
I've started writing a new novel and I've been noticing how eclectic my reading habits get when I'm writing fiction. I have six partially read books on the floor by my desk, several more upstairs by my bed, and a few in the living room. When I was writing Shelter, I read books about survival, about building homes in the wilderness, about sailing adventures (or canoeing or kayaking). I read all my son's Gary Paulsen books; Hatchet is the first one -- what a great book. I read and re-read The Curve of Time by M. Wylie Blanchet, an account of a woman's voyage up and down the coast of British Columbia on a 25-foot boat with her five children. And I read and re-read Driftwood Valley, one of my favourite non-fiction books. Rita mentions in Shelter that it influenced her. It was written in 1946 by Theodora C. Stanwell-Fletcher about building a cabin in the woods in Northern British Columbia.
I also burned through books of mythology, fairytales, memoirs by people who had lived in the Chilcotin, and naturalist guides to edible plants. What I didn't read very much of, at least when I was writing first drafts, was fiction. I can't seem to read much fiction when I'm writing fiction. I do dip into various novels. Anything by Virginia Woolf was a favourite when I was writing Shelter. I'd open Mrs. Dalloway or The Waves at random, read a few pages, then put it away. It was kind of like knocking back a shot of espresso. I'd feel energized, a little feverish to try and go as deep as she could. I chose her partly because my writing is so different from hers. If Hemingway's writing was like an iceberg, only 1/8 revealed on the surface, with the other 7/8 hidden below, Woolf is down there swimming around under the ice in that shimmering world.
When I'm writing fiction, it's hard to read fiction because it takes me into someone else's world and I want to be in the world of my novel. I know I also walk around with a slightly vacant look on my face. I'm not a good conversationalist. I heard Neil Young say once that writing was the one thing he did where he didn't feel like he should be doing something else. Or to quote the Littlest Hobo, "there's a voice that keeps calling me..."
