Bored with science fiction and unable to interest publishers in his mainstream novels, Dick quit writing to help his new wife in her jewelry business. He liked that even less, and so he pretended to work on a new novel. To make it look realistic, he said in a 1976 interview with Science Fiction Review, he had to start typing.
What emerged was “The Man in the High Castle.” It was dedicated, cryptically and not altogether favorably, to his wife, “without whose silence this book would never have been written.” (In the 1970s, Dick changed the dedication, dropping Anne Dick entirely.)
Ms. Dick said she saw only the pilot of the Amazon series, finding the Nazis a little too threatening.
If you are interested in hearing some ideas that flutter between profound and totally bonkers might I suggest:
How paranoia is natural:
How about this?:
Just a guy with a fragile mind hanging out reading Gestapo documents in German up at UC Berkeley:
In Sweden there’s a fashion brand called Filippa K and I thought it would be funny for someone to do a mashup Filippa K Dick.
But who has the time.
Found here, what a great interview:
You have wondered at Kenneth Roberts’s working methods—his stamina and discipline. You said you often went to zoos rather than write. Can you say something of discipline and the writer?
Kenneth Roberts wrote historical novels. He knew just what he wanted to do and where he was going. He rose in the morning and went to work, methodically and industriously. This has not been true of me. The things I have managed to write have been varied and spotty—a mishmash. Except for certain routine chores, I never knew in the morning how the day was going to develop. I was like a hunter, hoping to catch sight of a rabbit. There are two faces to discipline. If a man (who writes) feels like going to a zoo, he should by all means go to a zoo. He might even be lucky, as I once was when I paid a call at the Bronx Zoo and found myself attending the birth of twin fawns. It was a fine sight, and I lost no time writing a piece about it. The other face of discipline is that, zoo or no zoo, diversion or no diversion, in the end a man must sit down and get the words on paper, and against great odds. This takes stamina and resolution. Having got them on paper, he must still have the discipline to discard them if they fail to measure up; he must view them with a jaundiced eye and do the whole thing over as many times as is necessary to achieve excellence, or as close to excellence as he can get. This varies from one time to maybe twenty.
The whole thing is good. White describes how he came to draw the above New Yorker cover, his only one. And he talks about the diaries of Francis Kilbert, which sure do sound interesting. (Jump to “4. Relations With Girls”)
Some real talk from Larry McMurtry
One of these days I’m going to rank all of McMurtry’s non-fiction books. They’re all chatty and great. This is the single best one.
Either Film Flam or Hollywood tells what it’s like to be friends with Diane Keaton and her mom.
McMurtry has really meant a lot to me. Here are some other posts about him:
Donald Keene isn’t having any of this Japan’s Shakespeare business:
a consistently wild experience.
from Jean Rhys wikipedia page:
After her father died, in 1910, Rhys appeared to have experimented with the prospect of living as a demimondaine.
Friends, this book is brilliant, hilarious and compelling. I recommend it without reservation.
My galley copy there is banged up because I ripped it in half so I could bring the unfinished half on a trip, and what a delightful companion it was.
Come see me discuss the book with Elif herself at the LA Public Library downtown:
Here are some choice excerpts from The Idiot:
Patricia Lockwood highlighted one of my fav parts on Twitter:
Elif some years ago introduced me to the street cats of Istanbul:
And showed me where to get corn:
Now, I can return the favor in Los Angeles and YOU can join the fun:
Mark Taper Auditorium – Central Library