Post-partum Thoughts

[felis_ultharus]

So it's the day after the euphoria of completing my novel, and in this artistic hangover it's time for an honest assessment. There's pretty much nothing harder for an artist than to look at their work objectively. I tend to think I'm too easy on my work, others often think I'm too hard.

But an honest assessment would probably be that it's better than Hugh Maclennan's Two Solitudes, but falls far short of the marker I've set for myself (Timothy Findley's and Margaret Atwood's best stuff).

If I was to find a Canadian novel I could compare it to in quality, it would probably be around John Marlyn's Under the Ribs of Death. Like Marlyn, it has inspired parts (mostly in flashbacks) and dry parts (mostly in the present). Unlike Marlyn, the good and bad is more evenly distributed -- Marlyn's inspired and exciting parts are all the beginning of his first novel.

Like Hugh Maclennan, I have a tendency to rant, and that's part of the problem. Some of the dialogue feels forced. I'm not sure I got the right balance of supernatural/fantasy elements and realism (I was going for just a hint of supernatural, like in Robertson Davies' works).

I'm going to wait until I have other opinions before changing anything, though.

It's definitely publishable, though in a world that includes literary abominations like Krazy Kat: A Novel, publishable isn't saying much.

And it may just be an age thing -- I'm getting much better with each year, and who can tell where I'll be at, say, 32? I read an interview with an editor who said he rarely got a good novel from anyone under the age of 30. They just didn't have enough life experience to back up their work.

Looking over the lists of my favourite authors, I notice that pattern. Margaret Atwood was 32 when she first published a novel. Joy Kogawa was 46. Timothy Findley didn't publish until he was 37, and didn't publish a really good, bestselling novel until he was 47.

And I've heard nothing but good things about Wayson Choy, who published his first novel at 57.

There's a myth out there -- one that's existed since the Romantics -- that there's a creative peak in one's 20s, after which it's all downhill. But I'm beginning to think the opposite is true.

Comments

[teecs.livejournal.com]

Congratulations on completing your novel! There must be some satisfaction in completing a project of that size. I am sure it is great and can't wait to be able to read it.

[felis-ultharus.livejournal.com]

Thank you. There is a lot of satisfaction, but I'm still waiting with bated breath the reviews of my friends.

[jc2004.livejournal.com]

I'm a way better writer now than I was when I was younger. I had the raw material back then, but I didn't have the follow-through - I was just chucking paint at a canvass before - now I can implement brush strokes and actually make something fascinating.

[felis-ultharus.livejournal.com]

True -- there is a very Jackson Pollack quality to my old stuff as well.

I just kept hearing that you have to publish while you're young. It took me awhile to realize that everyone saying this was 1) unpublished, and b) young.

[pinkville.livejournal.com]

There's a creative peak in your 20s if you happen to be Lord Byron... But I agree with your suggestion, that the chances of something significant be done (in literatire) are better after you're 30.

[felis-ultharus.livejournal.com]

'Course, Lord Byron didn't live much past his 20s, so who knows what he might have produced later on?

The myth of the young artist really begins with the Romantic Poets. I can't find a trace of it before that.

I strongly suspect it had less to do with inspiration, and more to do with the fact that by the time they hit their mid-30s, most of the Romantics were 1) dead (Byron, Keats), 2) demolished from hard living (Coleridge), or 3) political sell-outs trying to cover their moral failures with pretty but shallow poetry (i.e., Wordsworth and Southey).