BookLust: Slush Interview

Ray

Lately I've been talking a lot about Ray Robertson. He's a pretty cool guy, and a good writer, too. Oh yeah, and Canadian. You can really tell that he's in love with language when you read his stuff; rich and energetic and sincere and funny all rolled into one great package. He studied philosophy, and then decided to become a writer; he's real down-to-earth; loves hockey and country-rock music and he's a pretty damn good rock-and-roll crooner himself (I once heard him sing a Moody Blues song at this bar downtown; very impressive). There's no bullshit about this guy, and that's what's so appealing about him. He's written 3 works of fiction, Home Movies, Heroes, and Moody Food; and his newest book, Mental Hygiene, which is a selection of his essays and reviews written over the past five years.
It reads on the back of the book: "Robertson, following in the footsteps of Mordecai Richler and other novelist-critics such as Anthony Burgess, Kinglsey and Martin Amis and John Updike, is at the front line of contemporary literary debate. Whether castigating the bland cabal he refers to as McCanLit, poking fun at the trendy ephemera of intellectual fashion or arguing for his own unique fictional aesthetic, Robertson pulls no punches and suffers no fools."

My kinda guy.

So here is an excerpt from the SLUSH interview with Ray that Bev did back in 1999:

SLUSH: When did you first know you wanted to be a writer?
Ray:I did my B.A. in philosophy (at U of T) but always seemed to be reading some novel or book of short stories and scribbling away in a little red notebook. And whenever my friends would come over to get drunk, the kitchen table would invariably be littered the next morning with beer bottles and books of poetry. When I was around 24 and had decided that the academic life wasn't for me and was at a crossroads as to what to do next, my wife – then girlfriend – said, "It's obvious, isn't it? You should write." And she was right. I can't think of anything else I'd rather spend my life doing.
SLUSH:How many times was your first published work rejected?
Ray:Home Movies was rejected by approximately ten to fifteen publishers, some with a form letter, some with written comments. The essential thing that I learned through the rejection (and eventual acceptance) process is that a good book will find a home; it just means finding the right reader. Nearly half of the rejections I received criticized my use of language – baroque, overwritten, even pretentious – while the reader who eventually took it, Jan Geddes, the publisher at Cormorant, singled out the language as her favourite thing about the book – vibrant, poetic, nervy. Writers and publishers are like books and reader: there's usually a good match to be found, it just usually takes time and effort to find it.
SLUSH:What kept you going before you "made it"?
Ray:I like writing novels more than just about anything else. The purely hedonistic payoff of writing kept me going when most signs (and there were many) said stop. Also (and this can't be underestimated) my enormous ego said that my stuff was better than 99% of the other stuff out there and therefore deserved to be published. Most writers are equal parts raging egomaniac and snivelling self-pitying neurotic.
SLUSH:If you weren't a writer, what would you be?
Ray:A well-read but bitter security guard with a profound drinking problem who doesn't understand why he's so damn bitter.

slush

A few years back a writer friend of mine was fed to the teeth with the soul-crushing rejections she was receiving, so she decided to take matters into her own hands and create a funny zine for "success-challenged writers". She asked me to illustrate the cover for the first issue, but one thing led to another, and in no time at all I was illustrating and hand-printing the whole zine. A tiny project turned into over two years of very enjoyable work creating the art for SLUSH: cheap therapy for success-challenged writers. Bev sold quite a few subscriptions of the zine, she got interviewed on TVO's Imprint, we had a table at Toronto's Word on the Street, and all of our reviews were positive, except for this jackass who had no clue what we were trying to do, and wrote this review. What do you expect from someone who writes a book titled Smell It.

One of the main features of the zine was the SLUSH Interview. Bev would usually interview a new up-and-coming Canadian author, and I would draw their caricature. I thought it would be fun to every now and then share some of the interviews Bev did with some of these authors. (By the way, Bev is no longer experiencing rejection, and in fact has a second Harlequin book just out called Wanted: An Interesting Life. Hurray for Bev!)

This interview is with Toronto writer Russell Smith who was once the new hot young darling of the city, hailed as Toronto's hip urban Evelyn Waugh/F. Scott Fitzgerald. His works inlude How Insensitive, Noise, Young Men and The Princeess and the Whiskheads. I enjoyed Smith's first two books, but quickly tired of reading about the trendy beautiful people and their beautiful shallow lives. Smith has a new book just out, Muriella Pent, which is getting pretty good reviews, and which he insists is now focusing on more mature issues, since he himself is aging like the rest of us. I'll have to read the book to judge for myself. Here's highlights of his interview which he did for us in 1999:

SLUSH: How many times was your first work rejected?
SMITH: By every major press in the country, by every literary agency in the country, and by a number of the small presses. So in total about 20 rejections. I have received some wonderful rejection letters. (And some near hysterically bad reviews). But most injurious were the people who didn't respond at all. I had a friend who was a powerful editor at Random House Canada. I took him out to dinner once, and told him I had a manuscript; he seemed eager to read it. I had it on his desk the next day. He never replied. Not ever. I would see him at parties, and friends' dinner parties, at a party at his own house, and he would be perfectly friendly, as if this manuscript did not exist. I forgot about him, after I had an offer from The Porcupine's Quill. But I – stupidly – sent him another manuscript a year later. I ran into him at a Harbourfront Festival party – after I had been nominated for the GG, become a best-seller, etc. – and he mentioned receipt of the manuscript, and seemed excited to have it. Some six months went by with no response. I was so furious I made my agent call him repeatedly and insist he return the manuscript. Even that he found hard to do – I think he had misplaced it. When I finally got it, almost a year later, he had grudgingly appended a note with this helpful comment: "your agent tells me you want this. It has major problems. Doug."
SLUSH: How do you define success?
SMITH: I think you're successful if you've published one book. It means you're a writer; you're part of the discussion, you're part of the big game. It doesn't matter how it sells, and it certainly doesn't matter how it is reviewed.
SLUSH: What kept you going before you "made it"?
SMITH: Anger, bitterness, resentment, ego, competitiveness.
SLUSH: List five qualities you think are essential in a writer.
SMITH: Ego; self-reliance; an almost sexual love of language and the sound of words; sensory sensitivity; a healthy dose of contempt for other writers and the world at large. You must be your own judge of merit.