Lessons from an Afternoon with Atwood

What’s a Master Class with Margaret Atwood like, on her home stomping grounds of Pelee Island? Well, it’s a wee bit intimidating, to be honest. You know the person who’s coming to sit with your writing group is prolific and probably one of the most brilliant writers on the planet. You know her mind is sharp and that she’s well read. The day before she visited us at our cottage rental here on Pelee, four of us were in the island bakery, stocking up on baked goods for the evening wine session. While I was checking out with some cookies for the group, the owner asked if I was one of the writers here this week. “Yup. We’re writing. And reading. And walking. And drinking wine. And eating stuff from your bakery!” Then, as I was using the debit machine, she leaned over and hissed conspiratorially to me, “There’s Margaret Atwood now!” Sure enough, there she was, or rather her giant floppy hat was there, hovering just over the edge of the display case as she surveyed it for goodies.

Her voice is distinctive, as I’m sure you all know. It reminds me of a clothesline sometimes, a straight line of sound with occasional vocal pins thrown in for good measure. She has a sweet tooth. “Are there any butter tarts?” The other woman at the counter responded. “No, not today. We sold out. It’s been a busy opening weekend. How long are you here for?” The hat moved, shifted, and there was the hint of a smile, “Until the weekend. Will you have any butter tarts later in the week? We love the butter tarts!” Cue the writers in the car, on the way home to the cottage on the south shore, making a series of creatively-inspired butter tart jokes and comments in imitation Atwood voices. (I’m in a dead-on race with Carolyn for imitation voices, although I can hardly touch her Katherine Hepburn imitation!)

So, arriving yesterday, she settled into a spot on the leather chesterfield, and asked us to close our eyes. We had been asked to submit the first five pages of our writing to her, for discussion in the group setting. She’d given us two hours, telling her husband Graeme to pick her up at 3 o’clock. So she asked us to close our eyes and imagine walking into a bookstore and seeing our first novel cover. What would it look like? What images and colours? What fonts of lettering? What title would it have? Then, she said that, while writers rarely have input into what their covers look like, there will often be ‘disputes’ with publishers about which is best suited to the novel being published. (I can relate to this because I remember having a conversation about the cover of my second book, in terms of image, and a conversation about the title of my third book of poems. As a writer, you need to be open to accepting suggestions for these things from your publisher, but must also stand strong in your convictions. You’ll have to look at the book, after all, for years to come. It’s yours, so you’d best at least find it slightly pleasing!)

Then, having had us work through imagining our novels, she pulled out a batch of papers from her bag. “Here’s what I’ve been working on this morning…the galleys for my next book, which comes out in the fall. This will be the sixth pass through, but there’s still more to do.” Then, she was kind enough to show us mock-ups of covers for the UK, American and Canadian versions of the book. She asked us to debate the qualities of the various options, asking us to consider why one or the other would be weak, or strong. Sometimes, she told us, the Canadian publisher will take on the cover that was chosen by the UK publisher, but sometimes the cover of the same book will be different in various countries.

So, here are a few tidbits that came up in group conversation. There were specific comments given to each person’s novel-in-progress, but these are a few things that would apply to most prose writers, I think…

*On the importance of researching thoroughly….”If you get a factual detail wrong in your book, you will get mail.” (Her example was that she once wrote about butter, but a woman wrote to dispute the way in which she described the butter being made or churned.) This reminded me of something Larry Hill had said to us in Banff in April, when he said someone had written him once from Norway, quite a heated and lengthy letter, saying that he had confused a rabbit with a hare in one of his books. 🙂

*The first chapter is important to a book buyer. At the start of it all, the book buying process, a book buyer or reader will be drawn to the beauty of the novel cover, but then they’ll immediately (usually) turn to the first page of text. If you don’t catch them in those first few pages, you’ve lost them. Makes sense. So, in turn, it makes sense that you figure out the ‘worth’ of a character in your novel. One question Atwood posed to us yesterday was: “Who here thinks that this character deserves both a first and a last name?” If it’s a major character, then the person needs two names, but if minor, then they likely only need one. This first chapter, she says, is “like an overture” in music, in that it establishes motifs and patterns that echo through the novel. You weave things throughout a longer piece of prose. It takes a lot of thought, planning, and skill.

*”Avoid too much diverse and detailed information in the early part of the novel.” You can easily overwhelm your reader, and then you’ll have lost them. (Never lose them!)

*”Do differentiate between the colour of characters’ hair, especially if they’re girls or women. Readers like to have visual cues so that they can keep characters separate in their own minds.” This piece of advice made me smile, mostly because I hadn’t thought of something like this before. She also warned against too many characters’ names beginning with the same letter. “You can’t have a ‘Martha’ and a ‘Mable’ or people will be flipping back and forth trying to figure out who’s who….and then you’ve lost your reader.”

*When she asked one of the writers in the group about the potential ending of that person’s novel, she stopped herself by saying: “Oh, wait! You may not want to tell us the end because you will be using up the energy you need to write that end part.” I loved this. I loved that she thinks of it all energetically, which really resonates with me. (These people you’ve created on paper, but first in your head and heart, often drain me, I find. Sometimes, what happens to them hurts me just as much as if they were real friends or family members, which shows how real and intense a writerly and imagined world can be–for a writer.)

*”Are we still reading?” This question is the one she kept coming back to throughout her time with us. If you’ve lost your reader, there’s little point in writing. You need to be aware of what keeps your reader ‘hooked,’ being mindful (as always) of “connectives and transitions.” Atwood’s “connections and transitions” reminded me of Larry Hill’s explanation of “scenes and bridges.” Two different ways to explain how one should structure plot in a novel. 🙂

*Finally, she left us with a good piece of advice for any writer. “Remember that the reader is blank, except for what you tell them.” You know, as a writer, that you need to weave a world, a world which includes created people, conflicts, loves, and losses. You know your world better than a reader does, at least at first. You can’t forget, as a writer, that your reader won’t know everything that you know. You can’t take that for granted. You have to think critically about the structure of your work, being objective about how a reader might approach your story.

I learned so much from listening to her yesterday. I’ve loved her work forever. Her poetry, in particular, always sparks my heart. What struck me yesterday, though, is that she is a font of knowledge. Someone asked what her favourite book was to write, and she said “I’m not supposed to answer that question. I never answer that question.” Then, someone asked her what she’s reading right now and she went on to tell us about a book of Egyptian literature and then one about saints. She reads so widely, and it shows in the way she speaks about literature. Her conversation with us was sprinkled liberally with literary references to things that she’d read, or things that fascinated her. Her sense of humour is sharp, and she often makes a little noise of exclamation (or a laugh) when she finds something interesting or exciting. I liked seeing that more animated side of her. (It’s less of a clothesline voice, now, and one that seems more animated in tone just because she was sitting on a chesterfield, having coffee, and nibbling on cheese and crackers.)

The work that she and Graeme Gibson do for this place, for the Pelee Island Bird Observatory, too, is really quite amazing. They are so active in the birding community. She grew up in Northern Quebec and Ontario, she said, so her father told her about various birds, animals, and insects. Their love of the natural world in this part of the country is true and committed. I like that. Authors who have causes they care passionately about, and who are using their ‘celebrity’ to raise awareness and funds, always impress me with the time and dedication they offer. That she took time yesterday to sit with us, to intelligently discuss our work, is impressive and thoughtful.

That’s it from the south shore, friends.
Hope you have some butter tarts some time soon… 😉
peace,
k.