Sunday, September 10, 2023

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Buffy Cram

Buffy Cram is a writer of fiction and non-fiction, an entrepreneur and a farmer. Reviewing her 2012 book of stories, Radio Belly (Douglas & McIntyre), the Globe and Mail pronounced her “a whip-smart storyteller who aims to shake up our reading expectations in ways that delight.” She has been a fiction finalist for the Western Magazine Awards, has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and has won a National Magazine Award. Her newest book is the novel Once Upon an Effing Time (Douglas & McIntyre). She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from UBC and lives on Salt Spring Island, BC.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

The most significant change after my first book, Radio Belly, was that I got a job teaching creative writing at a small college. This forced me to articulate what I knew about reading and writing and to unpack a lot of things I only had an intuitive sense of up until then. I think these years as a teacher and all the careful consideration of the elements of writing helped me get to the end of the novel.

2 - How did you come to fiction first, as opposed to, say, poetry or non-fiction?

I actually started with journalism, then moved to creative non-fiction, then eventually found my way to fiction. I had to sneak up on fiction slowly because I revered it so much.  It took a bit of internal work to give myself permission to make up stories. Then I had to disabuse myself of the notion that creative works arrive fully formed. But once I learned that creative works, like most things in life, are built slowly, methodically and even messily, from the ground up, fiction became a comfortable home.

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?

First drafts of short stories tend to come quickly for me. I always feel like I’m chasing after an idea, trying to get it by the tail. I often write stories in the wrong order though, with the climax up front or the end at the beginning. For me, 90% of the work of writing is in rearranging and “fixing” my first draft. With the novel the process is much the same except I’m working through several pieces of the story at once and the hard work is in trying to stitch these pieces together.

4 - Where does a work of prose usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?

The most successful stories I’ve written, whether short or long, usually begin with an idea that is triggered by some real-life event—an anecdote I’ve heard, or something I’ve read in the news. Once I know what issue I want to write about, I do a lot of freewriting to search around for the characters and scenes that will give me a fresh angle on that issue. I always start small, with the simple intention of expressing an idea. I try not to think about that idea’s final form (whether short story or book) until much later in the writing process.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I get really inspired by attending public readings, but I can’t say I enjoy giving them. People often mistake me for an extrovert, but I’m not. Being the centre of attention is always a somewhat painful experience for me. I can get through giving a reading and it is almost always a positive experience, but I usually need a stiff drink and/or a nap after.

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?

There are many theoretical concerns that drive my writing. I’m very concerned about the state of our world: the changing climate, homelessness, corporate greed, individual greed, systemic inequality, the failures of capitalism, our dwindling relationship with nature and many other things. I suppose part of the deal I made with myself when I became a fiction writer—part of giving myself permission to make up stories—was a promise to somehow address these issues in my writing.

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?

I spent my formative years as a writer living in South America and I was very drawn to the tradition of magic realism. The idea that applying imagination and even magic to political/societal problems in order to affect change in the real world fascinates and inspires me. It is part of my personal contract with writing to try and play at the edges of this tradition, but other writers may have a different contract.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

In my opinion there is nothing better than working with an editor who understands the intent and tone of your work and can guide you towards clarifying it. I had this experience with my novel and it was wonderful. I do my best to offer this experience to others.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

The best advice usually comes from my mom. One thing she’s taught me recently is to be suspicious of the feeling of panicked urgency that sometimes comes up in life because often that means the ego is involved. So instead of immediate knee-jerk reactions, I’m learning about the virtues of inaction. I used to think inaction was a form of laziness, but now I understand it is a form of wisdom.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (short stories to non-fiction to the novel)? What do you see as the appeal?

In my 20s I went through a phase where I moved to a different country and/or city every year. I liked the challenge of arriving in a new place where I didn’t know my way around and didn’t speak the language. Switching genres is a little like that. I suppose I seek out these kinds of experiences—ones where I don’t have a map and am prompted towards dramatic growth.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?

I always write in the morning when my brain is quietest. When I’m working on a project I try to engage with it every day for at least an hour a day, otherwise I lose the connection to the world I’m trying to build. This has been my routine for over a decade, but now that I’m done the novel I’m thinking about exploring other types of routines.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

While working on my novel I often got stuck, often for months at a time and it was quite painful because I just kept working and didn’t allow myself a break. I now know that a better approach would be to step away from that project and do something else for a little while. Now when I get stuck in writing, I work on sculpture or take a long walk or play ping pong. I think this is a kinder approach to the work.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

All things woody: woodsmoke, sawdust, the smell of fresh-cut cedar.

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?

Music has always been a huge influence on my writing. When I get mired down by the technical  aspects of writing, music puts me back in touch with the feeling part of what I’m trying to accomplish. For example, during the writing of my novel I was learning to play the banjo. I kept being drawn, melody-wise, to old murder ballads, many of which are told from the point of view of a person who is about to hang from the gallows and is remembering where their life went wrong. These songs, with their intense sense of urgency and regret, ended up directly influencing the structure of my novel, which is told in alternating “before-the-crime” and “after-the-crime” sections.

15 – What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

For each phase of my life I have always had a few talisman books that I return to again and again for wisdom or inspiration. There are two books that served as talismans for me during the writing of this novel. The first was Lynda Barry’s illustrated novel, Cruddy. When I worried my writing was becoming too dark, I turned to this book for permission to go further into the darkness and to trust that there could still be glints of light and humour. And the other book was Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. This book helped me connect to the frenetic energy of the late 60s and taught me how to manage a large cast of people.

16 – What would you like to do that you haven’t yet done?

I would like to go on a long bicycle trip through the flatter countries of Europe. Or maybe it could even be a long walk. I guess at this point in my life I’m drawn to the idea of long, self-propelled journeys without too many hills.

17 – If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?

I would have liked to have become an acupuncturist. Over the years TCM has become essential to managing my own health. I have great respect for it and I’m fascinated by the systems behind it. Like fiction writing, it seems like the type of profession that lends itself to lifelong learning.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

When I started writing fiction regularly, in my early 20s, I noticed that when I was writing, I disappeared for a little while. There was no me, just these words and voices that seemed to be coming through me. I became hooked on that feeling and I think it’s still the main reason why I write. There’s nothing better than getting away from myself once in a while!

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

While I was writing my novel, I found I couldn’t read contemporary fiction because I was afraid it would influence my work too much. So I returned to the classics. The last great book I read was Lolita. I had always purposely avoided this book because I thought the subject matter would bother me. But when I read it, I realized that is exactly the point. The book purposely creates conflict within the reader. The subject matter is deeply troubling, but it is written with such panache, with sentences and paragraphs that are worthy of being framed and put on the wall. This creates an interesting push/pull within the reader.

20 - What are you currently working on?

At the moment I’m sneaking up on a second novel, but I mustn’t speak of it or I might spook it.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

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