**
Mel Bosworth: Wow. How about it?
Ryan
MacDonald: I know, right? I think
about it all the time, mostly in the shower but often while driving too fast
down the back roads of the Valley. It comes to me usually as a feeling but ends
up as something more like a memory. I’ve fed it and loved it and let it out as
often as it wants to be let out and still I think, wow, how about it? It’s
never, how about that? Or, how about this? It’s always, how about it? Though I
guess sometimes it can be what about it? And then it’s just like, wow.
MB: What did you
do this morning? What did you see through your window? What did you have for
breakfast?
RM:
I am in North Carolina visiting family for the holidays. My mom made eggs and
bacon. Over breakfast I saw through the window, one poodle humping another
poodle in my parent’s garden. They were both staring at me. Afterwards we took
my nieces to an aquarium in a giant mall. We watched a manta ray, like a horse,
eat chunks of fish out of some lady’s hand.
MB: Why is short fiction so much better than long?
RM:
I don’t know if it’s any better shorter. I really love longer and shorter
fiction both. I’m currently working on a longer fiction. Right now it is very
long and will likely become longer. It is really made of short fiction though.
And who knows, after editing it could end up being much, much shorter. lol
MB: What makes a
great story? How about a bad one?
RM:
A great story illuminates the hell out of language. It opens up a reader to language’s
boundless surface of possibilities. A great story takes over the immediate time
and space of the writer and then the reader. There is always something uncanny
about a great story. A great story stirs it up, cuts the crap, presents the
unexpected, and lives in the world as a very special object. It offers a
glimpse at reality, and it destroys reality at the same time. A great story can
contain anything, it really doesn’t matter, as long as the story takes over. A
bad story? A bad story doesn’t try very hard. A bad story is unaware, of
itself, of its author, or its reader, of the past and present. A bad story often
only needs some help but sometimes should be put to sleep. A bad story is empty,
unless emptiness is its outright intention, then it’s possible that it could be
a great story.
RM:
I’m so glad you asked.
The
first time I encountered the great Peter Gizzi I was at the old Troubadour
bookstore in Hatfield. We had never met and he walked up and put a book in my
hands and said, “I think you will really enjoy this.” I looked down and saw
that it was a book on the paintings of Phillip Guston. When I looked up again
he was gone but there was a faint scent of pine in the air.
I
bought the book and have always really enjoyed it. True story.
The
second time was at the CVS drugstore where I was standing in line to buy some
pseudoephedrine from the pharmacist. Peter walked up, put a book in my hands
and said “I just flew into town and I’m leaving this with you.” I looked down
and saw that it was a book on the Anatomy of Movement. When I looked up Peter
was gone and in his place was someone who resembled Peter exactly but who was
not Peter at all. Trust.
The
third time was at Flying Object. He
walked up behind me, placed his hands on my shoulders and introduced me as
someone I’m not to the poet Joseph Massey.
I
like to think the four of us have some strange psychic connection
forever…Truth.
So
as you can see, he basically wiggled his own way into my book.
MB: If you could
call a younger version of yourself on the telephone, would you say anything?
RM:
I’d call myself last night and say, “do not
have that 4th scotch you dumb sonofabitch.”
MB: How did your
book come to be?
RM:
FC2 is this incredible author run non-for-profit publisher. For a writer to get
published with them he or she must either enter one of their 2 prizes or be
sponsored by a board member (they are allowed a limited number). One of these
members, Noy Holland (whose own writing is made of the things I mentioned in
the great writing category), was also the chair on my thesis committee. So, my thesis
was sponsored, which went through a long process including being read and
approved by each board member before becoming accepted. Which, after a great
length of time, it was, and after an even greater length of time, was built
into the book that it is.
MB: Are the
folks at FC2 treating you well?
RM:
Publishing a book has been the one thing I truly always wanted, and I am extremely
grateful to FC2 and proud to be a part of their impressive legacy. That said, publishing
has been a motherfucker on my nerves, so many ups and downs. Do you find this
to be true? I know I can be dramatic. FC2 treats me just fine though. My next
encounter with them will be on the FC2 panel at the Minneapolis AWP in Feb.
MB: What’s the
first thing you see in a story? What’s the first thing you want from a story?
RM:
I tend to sit and write sentences. Disjointed, tweet-like sentences, pages of
them. Sometimes a sentence takes ahold and stretches and basically insists on
becoming a series of sentences, and these can often turn into story. I guess
the first thing I see is a thread of some kind forming and a glimmer of
excitement in writing it out. What I want is for that excitement to continue
and for that story to take over and of course for those last letters typed to
be just so goddamned satisfying.
MB: Can short
fiction save the world?
RM:
No. But it might be able to save the way we see the world.
Yes.
But can it save the children?
No.
But it can make sweet love to the world.
Yes.
But it can never take the world too seriously.
No.
But if it can get the world in a half nelson, it might get the world to say
“Uncle”.
**
Purchase
The Observable Characteristics of
Organisms HERE.
Read
my review of The Observable
Characteristics of Organisms HERE.
Visit
Ryan MacDonald HERE.