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Posts Tagged ‘The Quiet Woman’

An Interview With Author Anne Gross

Monday, August 24th, 2015
  • How much emphasis do you put on strong voice/character?

A plot-driven story is fun to read and to write because it’s easy to lose yourself in the rhythm. However, if the characters involved aren’t well developed, I tend to roll my eyes with the more dramatic plot twists. My ability to suspend disbelief is damaged by a character that feels flat. So I place a lot of emphasis, or at least try to, on voice.

Here’s my favorite writing spot in my house. My own teensy forest grove in the city.

Here’s my favorite writing spot in my house. My own teensy forest grove in the city.

When my characters are developed enough, I can anticipate what they might do in each nutty situation I throw at them. I know if they will react on instinct or pause to think while digging the dirt out of their ears, throw a punch or run. And if they run, I know if they’re the type to sneak back to loosen the saddle straps or wet down the gunpowder. That being said, Elise and Adelaide still surprise me all the time. I’m pretty gullible like that.

  • What is one message you want your readers to take away from reading The Quiet Woman?

People don’t usually think about the limitations of the past, and I think that’s too bad because in all social classes, women struggled. In the lower classes, women often faltered. Any time I read historical fiction, I feel a bit nostalgic for the past—the clothes, the conversations, the endless knitting and needlework. I imagine long walks on expansive estate lawns with my hand on a gentleman’s elbow, rooms lit with candles and a warm fireplace, dinners that last long into the night, maybe a ballroom with a string quintet in the corner. I get caught up in the romance, and that annoys me, later, when I pop back from the book into real life and consider how those women must have smelled.

Instead of a picturesque Austen landscape, I wrote my heroine into a tavern with no running water, no closet full of gowns, and a front lawn that’s nothing more than a wet, reeking, manure filled alley. My message is to enjoy the present, because nostalgia places unrealistic veils of gold over the past.

I tend to write in a variety of spaces. I took this photo in a cafe in San Francisco where I wrote a lot of The Quiet Woman.

I tend to write in a variety of spaces. I took this photo in a cafe in San Francisco where I wrote a lot of The Quiet Woman.

Despite the grim landscape I created (or maybe because of it) I laughed a lot while I was writing. I hope my reader is as entertained reading The Quiet Woman as I was writing it.

  • Is there any advice you want to impart to aspiring authors?

Advice is something I look for too. I always keep Stephen King’s book On Writing and Annie Dillard’s The Writing Life within reach at all times. I also read blogs that dole out tips for writers.

Here’s my bookshelf. I’ll spare you the photograph of the books piled next to my bed with all the wine glasses, dirty dishes and unmentionables.

Here’s my bookshelf. I’ll spare you the photograph of the books piled next to my bed with all the wine glasses, dirty dishes and unmentionables.

One thing I’ve read in a couple of different places is the caution not to tell anyone about your novel in progress. It’s a conversation killer at a party, they say. You’ll be as dull as someone who starts a conversation with, “I had this weird dream last night…” Furthermore, people will have their own ideas about the path of your novel and will veer you off course. Don’t tell anyone because you’ll end up writing a book by committee and will lose your own voice.

I think this is bad advice for aspiring authors. Even if you live a dull life, as a person who enjoys stringing words together you’re probably a great conversationalist, so it’s doubtful you’d bore people with details about your novel. Also, most artists aren’t easily steered from their vision by Committees with Other Ideas. If they were, they wouldn’t be artists. It’s why artists are interesting (stubborn).

Go ahead and give yourself permission to be obnoxious. Tell everyone. Talk about your novel constantly. Be enthusiastic and excited. Imposter syndrome is real, and when you’re just starting out it can make you want to give up. Talking about your novel undercuts self-doubt because you’re practicing saying the words, “I’m writing.” It’s positive reinforcement.

From a business perspective, the more people you tell, the more anticipation you build for the product you’re developing. Not only are you creating a market, but you’re also networking. You never know if a friend of a friend of a friend has the name of an agent in their address book.