Bill Smoot's Blog
September 5, 2019
Q & A interview
Question: What inspired you to write Love: A Story?
Bill Smoot: It has been said that what are life-problems for regular people are raw material for writers. So this work was partly fueled by seeking catharsis for some painful things I had experienced or witnessed. Of course, the same could be said of 90% of the fiction ever written. Writers, like oysters, try to make pearls from the grains of sand that cause them pain.
Beyond that, I wanted to tell a love story that was deeply realistic. Flaubert chafed when people called Madame Bovary realistic; he was proud of those carefully crafted scenes whose elements fell into their perfect place in ways that reality does not. By contrast, I wanted my scenes to reflect life--and love--as it really happens. Sometimes a bird poops on the parasol at the worst moment.
Q: What do you think is distinctive about this novel? Did you have a particular kind of reader in mind when you were writing it?
Smoot: The philosophic digressions. I tried to go to school on Kundera here. I wanted to write a story in which it seemed natural that the narrator would pause from the action to tell the reader something about Plato or how the Christmas song “Silent Night” came to be. I wanted to blend genres, to weave into the novel memoir-like elements with philosophical musings. Marguerite Duras also was an inspiration.
I also wanted to write a novel that departs from gender stereotypes. For example, in recent years women have been exemplary discussing with honesty and openness the challenges of breast cancer. It is discussed in fiction and nonfiction, on talk shows, and in films. Women who have had mastectomies have posed for photographs. By contrast, how have men dealt with prostate cancer, which occurs in about the same rate as breast cancer? Too often with that male stoic silence. So through the character of Michael, I wanted to depict prostate cancer with unflinching realism. And in the relationship between Michael and Li-Li, I wanted to show a relationship that departs from our usual stereotypes about gender roles. For example, Michael is the partner who most wants a baby; he is the more committed partner, not the one who strays.
As for the reader I had in mind, I did not think much about it. I feel that my writing is like a call into the wilderness. I hope some people will respond, but I have no way of knowing who they might be.
Q: One of your characters, Li-Li, is not always very likable. How do you, as an author, feel about her?
Smoot: I love her. She is feisty and strong. She’s a fighter in the ways that she knows how, toxic as they sometimes are. She has energy.
I have to love her--I created her.
Q: When you’re not writing, what are you doing?
Smoot: I teach in the OLLI program at UC-Berkeley and in the Prison University Project at San Quentin Prison. My students in the prison are very special to me; this book is dedicated to them. I love teaching--as I do writing--so I am blessed in having work that never, or almost never, feels like a burden. Beyond those things, I am an avid tennis player. I hike and spend a lot of quality time with my dog. I love watching ballet. I like good films. I like to soak in the beauty of nature. I love one-on-one conversations, the deeper the better, with people. I like large talk more than small talk.
Q: What do you hope readers will take away from your novel?
Smoot: I would like readers to walk away from Love thinking about the idea that life is itself a story.
I would also like them to have been moved, to have felt the excitement, the hope, the frustration, the joy, and the sadness of the characters. I am always happy when my fiction makes people cry—not because I’m sadistic, but because I want my work to touch their hearts.
I also want readers to feel a thoughtful anger. There are things of great value in this life, but there are also forces working to destroy those sources of value. Some of those forces are easy to recognize, if not easy to defeat. Others are not easy to recognize. I am afraid we have become a very performative society, and performance--pursuing the means to a given end--sometimes trumps goodness. It kills the soul. The subplot about the prep school contains some instances of that performative evil.
Bill Smoot: It has been said that what are life-problems for regular people are raw material for writers. So this work was partly fueled by seeking catharsis for some painful things I had experienced or witnessed. Of course, the same could be said of 90% of the fiction ever written. Writers, like oysters, try to make pearls from the grains of sand that cause them pain.
Beyond that, I wanted to tell a love story that was deeply realistic. Flaubert chafed when people called Madame Bovary realistic; he was proud of those carefully crafted scenes whose elements fell into their perfect place in ways that reality does not. By contrast, I wanted my scenes to reflect life--and love--as it really happens. Sometimes a bird poops on the parasol at the worst moment.
Q: What do you think is distinctive about this novel? Did you have a particular kind of reader in mind when you were writing it?
Smoot: The philosophic digressions. I tried to go to school on Kundera here. I wanted to write a story in which it seemed natural that the narrator would pause from the action to tell the reader something about Plato or how the Christmas song “Silent Night” came to be. I wanted to blend genres, to weave into the novel memoir-like elements with philosophical musings. Marguerite Duras also was an inspiration.
I also wanted to write a novel that departs from gender stereotypes. For example, in recent years women have been exemplary discussing with honesty and openness the challenges of breast cancer. It is discussed in fiction and nonfiction, on talk shows, and in films. Women who have had mastectomies have posed for photographs. By contrast, how have men dealt with prostate cancer, which occurs in about the same rate as breast cancer? Too often with that male stoic silence. So through the character of Michael, I wanted to depict prostate cancer with unflinching realism. And in the relationship between Michael and Li-Li, I wanted to show a relationship that departs from our usual stereotypes about gender roles. For example, Michael is the partner who most wants a baby; he is the more committed partner, not the one who strays.
As for the reader I had in mind, I did not think much about it. I feel that my writing is like a call into the wilderness. I hope some people will respond, but I have no way of knowing who they might be.
Q: One of your characters, Li-Li, is not always very likable. How do you, as an author, feel about her?
Smoot: I love her. She is feisty and strong. She’s a fighter in the ways that she knows how, toxic as they sometimes are. She has energy.
I have to love her--I created her.
Q: When you’re not writing, what are you doing?
Smoot: I teach in the OLLI program at UC-Berkeley and in the Prison University Project at San Quentin Prison. My students in the prison are very special to me; this book is dedicated to them. I love teaching--as I do writing--so I am blessed in having work that never, or almost never, feels like a burden. Beyond those things, I am an avid tennis player. I hike and spend a lot of quality time with my dog. I love watching ballet. I like good films. I like to soak in the beauty of nature. I love one-on-one conversations, the deeper the better, with people. I like large talk more than small talk.
Q: What do you hope readers will take away from your novel?
Smoot: I would like readers to walk away from Love thinking about the idea that life is itself a story.
I would also like them to have been moved, to have felt the excitement, the hope, the frustration, the joy, and the sadness of the characters. I am always happy when my fiction makes people cry—not because I’m sadistic, but because I want my work to touch their hearts.
I also want readers to feel a thoughtful anger. There are things of great value in this life, but there are also forces working to destroy those sources of value. Some of those forces are easy to recognize, if not easy to defeat. Others are not easy to recognize. I am afraid we have become a very performative society, and performance--pursuing the means to a given end--sometimes trumps goodness. It kills the soul. The subplot about the prep school contains some instances of that performative evil.
