Tuesday, June 18, 2024

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Lynn Joffe

Born in London (England) and raised on four continents, Lynn Joffe has written and produced a vast array of storytelling projects for radio, stage and TV. Lynn graduated with an MA (cum laude) in Creative Writing at the University of the Witwatersrand’s School of Literature, Language and Media, in 2017. Her debut novel, The Gospel According to Wanda B. Lazarus, was published in November 2020 and was longlisted for The Sunday Times/CNA Literary Awards and shortlisted for the NIHSS Award for Fiction. She has performed in a variety of self-penned cabarets, published a children’s picture book, The Tale of Stingray Charles. Lynn produced and presented a 13-part jazz series, Bejazzled, which flighted across Africa. Lynn is a podcaster of Solid Gold Story Time and has developed and presented a myriad of storytelling workshops for all ages and stages of the writing journey.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
My debut novel revolutionised my life. My sense of accomplishment. The feeling that I knew I had it in me. And now it was out of me. Seven pregnancies later. A combination of working towards a Master of Arts in Creative writing – which gave me the structure and discipline – and plain hard graft mixed with wit and imagination. Using my writing chops which have seen me as a copywriter, content creator, cabaret performer, children’s storyteller and now, published author. Completing and publishing a novel of literary merit was a milestone in my creative self-actualisation.   

1 - How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
Project 1: ‘Kol B’Isha Erva: A Woman’s Voice is … Inappropriate’ Short Story Collection 

After the publication of The Gospel According to Wanda B. Lazarus, my academic husband asked, ‘Where’s the next book, Lynn?’ Exhausted as I was, I applied for and was accepted into a PhD in Creative Writing at the University of Pretoria between 2020-2023. My working theme: ‘Kol Isha B’erva: The voice of the woman is … inappropriate.’ This is a misinterpreted quotation from the Song of Solomon that banished women to the womb and the scullery for all eternity. So the theme is eternal, the approach; short stories. I began to write pieces in a variety of styles and perspectives of lost voices of the feminine, from Lilith (‘What? Me spurned?’) to my childhood experiences of antisemitism (‘Are Yoo a Joo?’). Trying to lose the Wanda voice and find other characters and points of view. I experiment with the form for two years, thinking I had eons to complete what was, in fact, a post-exhaustion novel fallowness.

Project 2: ‘The Year of Dying Courageously’ A love letter to my sister A Memoir of Grief

Here's the irony: Two years after having written a novel narrated by a time travelling picara, accidentally cursed with immortality, who dies at the end of each chapter, my own sister died from cancer in real life. Everything stopped. The writing of fiction, or even the looking at what I’d written, became a meaningless, trivialised abyss. All I could write was of her, to her, about her. Telling her about what happened in that ‘Year of Dying Courageously.’ At some point I will reread and rearrange the thousands of words I have penned to her as perhaps a memoirish dialogue with the dead that explores our traumatised childhood, our separation, her wild past, the everlasting nearness of her. But this is a private rave, a private rage, and I don’t see myself readying this as a manuscript until I’m out of the shadow of the valley.

Project 3: ‘The Comedian Who Killed My Family’ Auto-Fiction (based on untrue events)

Long before Wanda was a twinkle, there had been a story festering within. The MA gave it time to marinade. It has resurfaced as developing multiple perspective work of auto-fiction, titled, ‘The Comedian Who Killed My Family’; time spanned from present to past recalling two weeks in Sydney Australia where the most famous comedian in the English speaking world came to a booze-soaked amphetamine-pumped end in our home. I was nine. That kid’s recall was the first voice to emerge. And then, one day writing, the suicider revealed himself to me in his opening sentence, ‘Nobody was more surprised than I was when I woke up dead.’ And it started pouring out. This is a story more than fifty five years in the making. I have half a manuscript I’ve promised to my new-found agent. 

2 - How did you come to fiction first, as opposed to, say, poetry or non-fiction?
At first, The Gospel According to Wanda B. Lazarus started as a memoir, written for the purposes of an MA in Creative Writing at the University of the Witwatersrand. It was to be a personal bildungsroman, a portrait of the writer as teenage rebel, transplanted to Apartheid as a rank outsider to be told, ‘You’re a woman. A whitey. And a Jew to boot.’ Triple Oy. I did have to have a proposal, though, which behoved me to explore the hypothesis of Nomadness: a portmanteau of a nomad and the madness of a transgressive life orientation. The premise was, ‘What if the Wandering Jew … was a woman.’ An exploration of otherness and antisemitism, buried deep within whatever culture I have encountered throughout the ages. I started to explore my own life trauma, from which there is plenty to draw, and reread the words of my own #metoo moment as the underage groomee in the erotic clutches of the youth leader twice my age, ‘He had me … in the shadow of the Temple.’ This sentence struck me as numinous, perhaps even luminous. ‘What if,’ I said to myself, ‘it wasn’t Temple Shalom on Louis Botha Avenue … but The Temple, the original Temple, the one in Jerusalem?’ And, ‘What if … the kombi minivan he groped me in was a stinky camel cart?’ And, ‘What if … he tried to ravage Wanda in the Holy of Holies and she fights back like a nasty woman?’

The Gypsy Girl of Gazientep

A second synchronicity came to pass. Around the time of transition to fiction, I started researching my Google off. I knew I wanted to rear engineer my #metoo experience back to the time of the crucifixion. The first time that Jesus allegedly cursed a member of his tribe. And then I found her. The face of Wanda B. Lazarus herself. Embodied in the mosaic of the Gypsy Girl of Gazientep around 200 CE (what’s in a couple of centuries between friends?). The first time ever I saw her face, some kind of bizarre alchemy occurred between he character and the writer. All I had to do was sit down at the typewriter … and bleed. The discovery of my ability to write fiction was a revelation to me. It feels I’ve been doing this all my life. And yet, it’s ripened, deepened.

The moment I became ‘other’ to my protagonist, Wanda became my mouthpiece, my doppelganger and within the process, transformed my own story into a novel. I created a universe of imagination and transformation featuring a free-wheeling, foul-mouthed, sexually-charged picara who wanders through the ages at the behest of the muses of antiquity in her quest to become The Tenth Muse.  

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?
I believe in Anne Lamott’s dictum of ‘the shitty first draft.’ Get it down on paper or pixel and then begin to tease it into its final shape. I have to have a routine; writing every day. Sitting down at the typewriter … and bleeding, as Ernest Hemingway advised. I write quickly if I’m on a roll. And even if the spirit doesn’t move me, with the novel, Wanda did much of the dictation. As I was also doing a Masters, I had to have consciousness (and a proposal and a reflective essay) as to what I was doing. But overall, it’s a painstaking process. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It needs to be complete.

Given the abyss of the past two and a half years, my output has been truncated drastically. I’ve recently started to look at writings from before ‘the birth of Wanda,’ and am finding some engaging pieces, fragments, really, that need to be worked on, edited, polished, story told. Kawabata approves of this. I’ve also written down dreams from the early noughties that would fill a mythology book. I tend to write and rewrite, saving each version with a different alphabetical suffix to the date. So I can monitor my progress. Print out. Read. Do another draft. I got up to XX on some of my drafts. That’s 46 drafts, sometimes. I’ve also kept scrapbooks of storylines and doodles and spider diagrams of characters and scenarios.

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?
For me, it began with memoir and morphed into fiction. I have led a full and fruitful and oftentimes daring life. And somewhere along the process, imagination fuses with memory to create an original piece. Right now, with the short stories, I busy myself with the ‘one square inch’ of writing scenes that could be pieced together later. Only the book knows what it’s going to become. Wanda’s adventures are a kind of story cycle within a frame story as she traverses the ages. It’s the writing that counts. The editing comes from a different part of the creative brain.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I’m a huge show-off. I read wherever I’m asked and have done a few on-line readings. Published during Covid, it was the first norm I knew. I write from my introvert and perform from my extravert. I’m currently in the process of voicing the audio book (18 hours, I’ve estimated). It’s like an eighteen hour radio play. Here’s a QR code to listen to extracts of the novel. I’ve also done interviews which contain readings for book fairs and festivals in South Africa, Sweden and the UK.   

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?
I do believe that ‘value is the soul of storytelling.’ There’s always a ‘message’ of some kind in the undergrowth of a good story. As a person of Jewish origin, I’ve found more and more that this identity must be explored, questioned, unravelled. My novel dealt with the ubiquitous presence of antisemitism in the human condition. And as a woman, a woman of Africa and a pale native, this question of identity, belonging, outsiderness, transgression, is present in everything I write. Who am I? Who are we? The paradoxes of being a human female. I didn’t think there was any burden on me to contribute to world culture. But strangely, after October 7, the question has become immanent, worthy, troubling.

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 believe I have an age-old story to tell in my own unique way. Even though my book is about the transgressive Jewish experience, it resonates for the human condition of scapegoating, the female experience throughout history, and my own insights and explorations into this theme. So yes, the writer should contribute to the zeitgeist of the age.

Of course, having written a novel about a Jewish protagonist, I outted myself as an author of Jewish extraction. Now, with the attitude of antisemitism in the publishing industry (Come out as a Zionist, the industry will cancel you; come out as pro-Palestinian, the tribe will get you!) it will be interesting to see whether Wanda has a future outside the South African bubble. I’m not sure what #writingwhileJewish will bring. I feel now what a White male Afrikaner may have felt at the end of Apartheid. Not every word I write is about the ‘Jewish condition.’ But, as with any author of cultural validity, it will infuse and inform my world view forever. Time will tell … and I’m not telling. Yet.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I was lucky enough to acquire a professional editor who worked with me from the time I graduated with the original work to the publication of the novel. Two years! Even though I have extensive writing experience, I had no idea what an editor actually did. At first, it was a shock to have her insert words and changes into the manuscript. But as we progressed, I realised the absolute necessity of a good editor. And I’ll never attempt to publish without one. Without her.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
During the Masters tutorials, there was a woman who wrote the most magnificent prose. But very scanty quantity. When asked why, she said, ‘Ag, man, I need to be inspired.’ One of the tutors, a highly decorated author, said to her: ‘Well, I hope you’re near your computer when inspirations strikes.’ What I took from this is … you can’t wait for inspiration to strike. You have to simply, ‘Sit down at the typewriter … and bleed.’

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (short stories to cabaret to writing for children to the novel)? What do you see as the appeal?
I’m able to write to any genre, really. Copywriter’s Derangement Syndrome. Children’s stories are easier to access, sometimes arrive with little songs, and flow from my pen without the agony of fiction. And yet. And yet. I have to write now. Meaningful fiction. With the lightest touch. If you look at the three projects I’m disenfragmenting, they are all quite different. A novel is what I strive for. The short stories are what I wish to conquer. The sister memoir is still in play. The appeal? It needs to appeal to me, first and foremost. I know what my standard can be. Recognition is important. But I don’t work towards that as an incentive.

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?
During the writing of Wanda, I was as disciplined as a disciple. I wrote every morning, from the time I opened my eyes around 7am until around noon. I can’t write all day long and I have had a business to run. A regular writing routine is the only way and I’m striving to return to this. I love writing retreats and try to see my daily work as such. Any distraction   leads to the break in routine. Getting back to this practice is my life’s wish.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
Significant memories. Dreams. Reflections. I thumb through previous writings to see if something prompts me to continue. Or just write until something comes up. Prompts help too.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
The pungent scent of a Highveld thunderstorm rising off freshly polished parquet.

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?
Agree that books come from books. I trained as a jazz musician for eighteen years and the theory I absorbed so completely through my fingers has also affected my brain. I also started to create ‘collage characters’ out of found recycled materials. These develop into little characters that I use for my children’s stories. I created cartouches for the Wanda book that I’ve used for booklets and other promotional material.  My husband is a visual artist and art historian and we often discuss the confluences of the artistic process in any medium.  

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
I’m reading a slew of short stories now, a hangover from my ill-fated PhD, but checking out the forms and content a short story can take. Rereading Anton Chekov and George Saunders, discovering Lydia Davis and Cynthia Ozick. I’ve studied the classics, poetry and fiction, and they have a subconscious effect on me. I also adore writers who can write about massive human issues with the lightest touch. If I could choose three, I’d say: Phillip Roth, Kurt Vonnegut and Virginia Woolf.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
I wish to continue writing literary fiction of the finest standard. And having it published by a reputable publisher and the work reaching beyond the SA bubble. The Gospel According to Wanda B. Lazarus is my debut novel. I hope to live a long life and get my writing out there. South Africa is a bit of a publishing bubble, but I have acquired a US agent now and would love to get my work out into the world. The Booker Prize, perhaps. Too old for Nobel?

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’ve never been able to earn a living as a musician. It’s fun, but penury is rife. I have been a copywriter all my adult life, and earned a living that way. I can write in a compendium of styles according to a briefs. But fiction is where I’ve found my voice, and, late to the game, I must bestow upon myself the time to cultivate my superpower. I’m also an excellent typist. So it could have stopped right there. But something always draw me to further, to more. And this is it.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
It was time. I’d spent the breeding, bleeding years writing stories for everyone else. And filthy lucre. Brands. Corporates, Cabarets. TV shows. Radio dramas. From the moment I began my Wanda journey, I sensed I was onto something that would bring out the best in my thinking and writing. And my life. As Maya Angelou says, whomever says, ‘There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story within you.’  Who knew?

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
The only writing that has comforted me in a deep philosophical and emotional sense has been The Dark Interval, Rainier Maria Rilke’s collected letters on loss, grief and consolation. Literature has been hard to hold on to, so I’ve been retraining my brain with short stories. Rereading Anton Chekhov and George Saunders, discovering Lydia Davis and Cynthia Ozick. I was also recently the lead judge in the CCI Award for Fiction under the auspices of the Department of Sport, Arts and Culture and had to ‘read’ 328 South African books in a week! So I’ve given myself a crash course in South African literature. The novel we awarded the prize to is called On That Wave of Gulls by Vernon Head. It deserves to be read outside the bubble.

Movie-wise, we are avid foreign film watchers. The Spanish movie, Quién te Cantarà directed by Carlos Vermut is a perennial favourite and has echoes of my own life story. Anything by Abel and Gordon, the Belgian comic duo. Most recently made movie to rave about is Todd Field’s Tár. Greatest movie of all time, Bob Fosse’s Cabaret. I must have seen it a hundred times. Also hooked on old time Hollywood musicals. And anything French.

20 - What are you currently working on?
(See question 2 above. This is a summary)

I have three projects on the go, to which, once I can emerge from the chrysalis of grief, I can apply my creative writing self. I am halfway through (I think!) a manuscript of a work of auto-fiction, ‘The Comedian Who Killed My Family’, a multiple perspective work, based on the death of a famous comic who committed suicide in my family  home in Australia in the late 60’s. I’m also recollecting a series of short stories based on the theme of ‘Kol B’Isha Ervah,’ – the voice of the woman is … inappropriate.’ My love letter to my sister, ‘The Year of Dying Courageously,’ is more a diary than a memoir at the moment and will take time and distance to massage into a readable form. I’m taking some light relief in polishing up a slate of musical children’s stories, which seem to pour out of me.   

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Much enjoyed this thank you both!