Showing posts with label Giller Prize. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Giller Prize. Show all posts

Friday, September 21, 2012

12 or 20 (second series) with Vincent Lam


Dr. Vincent Lam is from the expatriate Chinese community of Vietnam, and was born in Canada. Dr. Lam did his medical training in Toronto, and is an emergency physician in Toronto. He is a Lecturer with the Department of Family and Community Medicine at the University of Toronto. He has also worked in international air evacuation and expedition medicine on Arctic and Antarctic ships.


The Headmaster's Wager, Dr. Lam's first novel, about a Chinese compulsive gambler and headmaster of an English school in Saigon during the Vietnam War, is published by Doubleday Canada. Dr. Lam's biography of Tommy Douglas is published by Penguin Canada as part of Extraordinary Canadians series.

1 - How did your first book change your life?

* Bloodletting and Miraculous Cures won the Scotiabank Giller Prize, and became very popular. This changed some external aspects of my life, because I became a well-known Canadian writer. This meant that I had new opportunities to talk to people about the book, and to publish abroad. These are all very good things. However, at a core internal level some things did not change –  I am a physician and a writer. The work of practicing medicine and the work of writing are both deeply meaningful to me at a human level, and this is unchanged.

How does your most  recent work compare to your previous?

In writing Bloodletting and Miraculous Cures, I had great knowledge of the specificity of setting – this is because it was set in a medical school, in hospitals, and in  clinics, and I am a doctor. Writing with this knowledge, I was able to elicit the emotional core of the book and represent it with details that were accessible to me. I could sort of pluck the knowledge of doctors off the shelves of my life to use in my writing. In writing The Headmaster’s Wager, I began with a deep understanding of the emotional core, and not much else. I knew what the book should ‘feel’ like. But as it turned out, I didn’t know nearly enough about Vietnam to do it initially, so I had to go out and learn all of that. This initiated my research phase, which I’ve already mentioned.

How does it feel different?

* Every book is a world into itself.

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

* That is like asking why my ears are the particular size that you see them to be!

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?

* Writing for me is very slow. It takes only a fraction of a second to start. That’s not the difficulty. The difficulty is getting through it and finishing. I edit extensively and repeatedly. Almost all pages receive fifteen to twenty rounds of editing in my hands. This is slow.

To write a novel set during a significant time in my family’s history required a variety of types of engagement between myself and the subject. I needed to understand as much as I could about what that era meant to me emotionally, and this has grown over two decades of personal contemplation. I amassed as much sensory and historical information as I could about that time. I wanted to understand the story of Indochina, the mentality of that land, the Vietnam War, the sensations of daily life in Saigon and Cholon, the patterns in which people interacted, and the concerns of the Chinese in Vietnam, with enough detail and depth to write it as if I had lived it. But beyond all that I had to let the story be free and true. I had to allow for its own vitality. It had to inhabit a space of truth where it was not my family stories at all, and it was not a documentation of my historical knowledge, but where it could become its own story.
 
4 - Where does a work of fiction usually begin for you?

* With obsession, with a deep aching haunting.

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?

* I have always written projects that were meant to be ‘books’. Even Bloodletting and Miraculous Cures was always meant to be a collection of linked short stories and a cohesive book.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? 

* They are neither. They are separate, a supplemental way to communicate. The real creation, the writing is all very private, but the reading can be part of a way to communicate the creation.
 
Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

* Yes. I do enjoy them, as I like to meet readers. I also like to be able to offer them something of my actual spoken voice. In the case of many writers whom I admire, once I have heard them speak, I always subsequently hear their voices in my mind when I read their work and this adds to the richness of the experience.

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing?

* Yes, I’m sure I do. But if they start to occur to me, I try to think of them as little as I possibly can. I do think about stylistic issues. My key stylistic goal is that I want the writing to acquire a sort of transparent quality, hoping that the reader can almost stop noticing that they are reading, so deeply have they entered the story.

What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work?

* I am mostly trying to answer subconscious questions.

What do you even think the current questions are?

* I like the questions to be subconscious, so I allow them to float beneath the surface and emerge in the plot and the characters. As such, they are hard to articulate.

7 - What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Does s/he even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?

* I believe that the role of the writer should be to distill in a deeply reflective and contemplative manner the emotional forces of our time, and to distill these into works that engulf the reader into an experience of the book. 

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

* I have a fantastic editor, Martha Kanya Forstner, and one of the most wonderful things about my writing process is working with my editor. It is difficult and essential work, but we work together very agreeably. The difficulties are to do with the text and its problems, not to do with any sort of problem in the editorial relationship. I would note: what truly good types of work are there in this world that are not both difficult and essential?

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

* Learn how to take advice. I’ve never heard this is a direct way, but it’s the best advice out there.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (short fiction to novel to medical prose)?

* Every book is hard. Part of writing is sometimes to be pushing boundaries. This is where the writer grows.

What do you see as the appeal?

* The appeal is always story.

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?

* My main routine is that I schedule the time to write. I’m very busy, so I have to schedule the time if I’m going to have the time. I prefer the early part of the day.

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

* I return to the deep emotional fibres that animate the project. At a certain point, it is possible to turn to the characters, but it takes a long time to get there.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

* The smell of my wife.

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?

* All of that, surely. Books also come from life and history. These are big forces for me.

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

In no special order, a random and incomplete conjectural list…

Nick Adams Stories, Ernest Hemingway
Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood
Running In The Family, Michael Ondaatje
Gift of Stones, Jim Crace
Dream Stuff, David Malouf
Fugitive Pieces, Anne Michaels
Nine Stories, JD Salinger
Cloud Atlas, David Mitchell
The Book of Secrets, MG Vassanji
The Reader, Bernhard Schlink
The Golden Mean, Annabel Lyon
Runaway, Alice Munro
From a Chinese City, Gontran de Poncins
Blindness, Jose Saramago
The Lover, Marguerite Duras
Our Town, Thornton Wilder
Letters to a Young Novelist, Mario Vargas Llosa

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

* Helicopter powder skiing.

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?

* If I wasn’t a writer, I would be a physician!

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

* Story.

19 - What was the last great book you read?


What was the last great film?

* Cave of Forgotten Dreams, Werner Herzog

20 - What are you currently working on?

There is something… but I cannot say more.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

MINE MINE MINE NOW NOW NOW: Johanna Skibsrud, The Sentimentalists, Gaspereau Press + the Scotiabank Giller Prize

Everyone sure seems to have a lot of opinions about Gaspereau Press these days, for deciding to hand-print a thousand copies a week of Johanna Skibsrud’s debut novel, The Sentimentalists, winner of this year’s Scotiabank Giller Prize. Daily I’ve seen newspaper reports and opinions about Gaspereau’s decision to say no to certain outside offers to quick-print, and the oft-repeated number of “75,000” when referring to sales of previous winner’s titles. How could they pass up commerce for beauty? What about the opportunities for their author? How could they not understand? Don’t fool yourself: this is not about whether or not her work is getting out there.

Perhaps we need to change the way we think about books, and about how books are sold. Somehow, booksellers, readers and everyone else related to the literary book industry seem to have been self-programmed to expect that books are forgettable, and therefore, have only a shelf-life of six months. Books are aimed now for the quick, the immediate push and then nothing else; like butterflies, a quick season before absolute, utter death. Apparently copies of the book are available still on the Chapters site (Amazon’s unavailability is oft-quoted, but Chapters availability is ignored), and even selling plenty of copies as ebooks for those who want it quickly and can’t wait.

Exactly what is the concern here? Gaspereau won’t play along; I’m sure they, among many other small publishers over the past half-decade or more, have suffered greatly with the big chains over-demanding, over-ordering and thusly over-returning. Imagine a big-box chain bookstore demand to produce two, three or five times more than you would have otherwise, and then returning almost every one six months later, meaning a dead, unsellable stock that you still haven’t paid the printing for, let alone the years ahead of warehousing fees. It’s death to small press, pure and simple. So Gaspereau doesn’t play that way? Good for them. Will it hurt the immediate sales of Skibsrud’s novel? In the short term, sure, but so what? Awards and lists should be the opening for conversation and debate, and not a series of annual absolutes.

Awards make readers lazy, unadventurous and possibly stupid; instead of allowing to celebrate the accomplishment of a jury-decided award, it’s made an entire segment of the population and media focus on only the winning author and winning title, and ignoring most else of what gets written and published. A jury shouldn’t tell you what to read; if books are part of an actual culture, juries should tell you what else to read.

For god’s sake, write down the name of her novel on your calendar, and wait. Better that Gaspereau hold to their guns, despite the snide remarks that media has thrown, from the Globe and Mail to the Ottawa Citizen. Apparently they originally produced only eight hundred copies in their little shop, and ran through their initial run almost immediately. The best part? For some reason, they mailed me two copies of the first run (I immediately gave my extra away to Michael Blouin, who has been boasting on facebook about such). The entire point of their operation is hand-made books, so suck it up, gentle reader. Hold, for the obvious beauty. Savour in small, slow bites.

Wolfville, Nova Scotia’s Gaspereau Press, which came initially out of the poetry and fiction journal, The Gaspereau Review, has quite an extensive backlist, and I’m sure any of their other authors would very much appreciate the attention. If you are to like what Skibsrud has accomplished, and already it’s shown that many have, why not take a chance on another of the many books of poetry, fiction or non-fiction that the press has produced over the last decade? Why not pick up either of her other books, possibly? Her first poetry collection, Late Night with Wild Cowboys (Gaspereau, 2008) was lovely, although her second, I Do Not Think that I Could Love a Human Being (Gaspereau, 2010), didn’t really do it for me. Why not explore the short-list while waiting? Alexander MacLeod’s Light Lifting (Biblioasis) is one I would very much like to get my hands on, after a sharp, stellar reading at this past writers festival in Ottawa.

When we were in our later teens, my not-yet-ex-wife introduced me to the idea of walking into a video store and renting flicks neither of us had ever heard of, and what magnificent discoveries we made along the way. The disappointments were surprisingly few.

Reading should be something considered, thoughtful and long, and not caught up the immediate nonsense of instant gratification. As for myself? A copy of the novel has been sitting on my shelf for months, unopened. I’ll get to it when I get to it. I have no problem with any of that at all.
Suburban Dream No. 2

You will be counted on in heaven to bring,

to each and every book-club meeting,
two or three pearls
in order to illuminate the text for us so that it becomes

clear in those few moments, to

all of us, sitting upright in our dragged-in chairs,

how everything has to do with everything,
and our lives go down, and down.

Afterwards, someone will make a little joke,
or else a child will come
barrelling in from a driveway game,
and we will close our books
and laugh on our way to the door,
our voices trailing off into a sigh,
but not because we are either
discontented, or sad. (Late Night with Wild Cowboys)

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Ottawa writer Elizabeth Hay wins the Giller Prize



Easily one of the nicest writers around (even nicer than Andrew Pyper, if you can imagine), Ottawa writer Elizabeth Hay won the Scotiabank Giller Prize last night in Toronto, for her third novel, Late Nights on Air (Toronto ON: McClelland & Stewart, 2007). Wonderful, and so well deserved! But does this mean, with two GG nominations sans win (so far), and now a Giller under her belt, I can't call her "GiGi" anymore?




See my "12 or 20" interview with Elizabeth Hay here.