Interview with Debut Author Lucy Tan

Lucy Tan, author of What We Were Promised (Little, Brown) and I met at an Asian American writing retreat (the magical Kundiman) when another writer discovered that we both had a book coming out and introduced the two of us. It turned out that not only did our books share a lot of the same themes—sibling rivalry, the American Dream through the Chinese lens, unrequited love—they were also coming out a month apart from each other. We immediately started talking about publishing pressures, final edits, and, of course, our parents' reactions when we sold our books. We continued the conversation after the retreat, and our chatter shows no signs of stopping even months after our books have come into the world. 

A little background on Lucy's book for those who aren't familiar. What We Were Promised looks at a Chinese American family returning as expats with new money in their pockets to modernized Shanghai, in the swirl of the World Expo (an updated version of the World's Fair). A love triangle; a city on the verge of great wealth; a young woman trying to escape her rural village for the big city—this book is packed with drama and heart. I loved this book and am impatient for everyone to read it already so they can fall in love too. Read on to learn about what Lucy's working on now, imposter's syndrome, and the elusive phenomenon we call "writerly instinct."
 

I feel like the most persistent question that writers get asked is, "What are you working on now/next?" This is a question that can be innocuous, or stressful, depending on the writer and their mood that day. How do you feel about this question? 

I know many authors who hate to answer this question, and I understand why. Talking about unfinished projects means letting the reader into the delicate, private world of the creative mind, which can sometimes put the project at risk. I like to talk about my work once I think it's achieved some form of solidity—in other words, once it feels like it's taken on a life of its own, existing as something distinct from what I want it to be. This is true even if that life is feeble and eventually ends up in a drawer somewhere. For me, talking about my work at this stage keeps me honest. If I tell you about a novel I'm working on now, and years later, no such novel materializes on the market, you'll know that something has gone off course. That's a big part of the writing process that the reader doesn't often hear about, and I like talking about it because it makes me feel like less of an imposter.

That's such an interesting take on early work and transparency! Have you had any such "drawer novels" that will never see the light of day? If so, can you remember what they were about and why they might have failed? 

I have made various attempts at novels, but the only "drawer novel" I completed was about a family in the suburbs. If I remember correctly, the father in the family convinces himself that he has a mysterious illness that makes him unable to leave the bed. The two daughters suspect his illness is psychological, but can't get their mother to make the father see a psychiatrist. That might have been an okay premise, except that I spent most of the novel having the two girls wreak havoc on their small town rather than dealing with what was going on inside their house. It grew more and more derivative. The only good thing about it was that I knew it was bad as I was writing it, and came to think of it more as an exercise to see if I could get to fifty-thousand words (in my mind, 50k was the minimum word count that would make it a novel). This might sound crazy, but I had to prove to myself that it was physically possible for me to write something of that length. 

I love the idea that something that could be seen as a failure is really a necessary step to building skill and confidence. Also, having read your work, I know you write girls wreaking havoc so well. The project you're currently working on—is it at the stage of accountability where you can begin to talk about it? 

Thank you! It's funny that you say that because the novel I'm working on currently is also about teenage girls. It starts out in a small town in Wisconsin, where three young women become best friends over their shared love of theater. The novel follows them as they begin their careers as young actresses—first in the Midwest, and then in New York and LA. I'm still figuring out the thematic elements of the novel as I go. I find that often, I start with a grand idea of what I want a novel to be "about," but at some point the characters hijack the story and the only option I have is to just follow them around, picking up and examining whatever clues they leave behind. I don't want to make it sound like I have no agency at all (which would be ridiculous, since I created them), but I do often feel powerless over a novel's direction in that first draft stage. In other words, I can write according to a plan, but the result can feel false. I can also accidentally write things that feel much more true and interesting—making me feel as though I should go down a path I hadn't planned on going down. 

I hope I get to see this book one day! Did you start your current project right after you finished WHAT WE WERE PROMISED? Do you prefer to give yourself breaks after projects, especially big ones, or do you soldier on? 

After I handed in the final edits for my first novel, I was really itching to work on something new. When I'm editing at the line level, I'm using a part of my brain that's very different from the more creative part I use when writing a first draft, and I was eager to access that creative part again. This pent-up energy propelled me for about two weeks, during which I miraculously produced sixty pages of what I thought might be an interesting novel. I've been trudging on since then, trying to keep the faith, but lacking the same kind of instincts I had when I was working on the beginning of the novel. 

Sixty pages in two weeks! That is miraculous. I could ask you questions about this forever, but for your sake, I'll ask just one more. You mention the word instincts in your last answer. This is a word that writers often use, but I feel like it means something different to each writer. What does it mean for you to follow your instincts in writing?

For me, instincts are nothing more than a strong conviction that something should be a certain way. Often, this means an ability to see what's happening in the world of the story without a lot of deliberation. For example, I had decided my main character in this novel [I'm working on] should have parents who work in a candy shop. Because they don't have money for childcare, I knew she'd be stranded there at work with them for long periods of time. Immediately, the ways in which she would keep herself occupied felt obvious to me. She'd prowl the parking lot. She'd play a game that involved guessing flavors of jelly beans. These and other antics introduced new characters and interactions, which led to other ideas about theme and plot, etc. Instincts are when the creative engine feels well-oiled. It feels like pure luck when this happens—which probably has something to do with why writers are prone to imposter syndrome! 

Interview with Cover Artist Callie Deitrick

When I first reached out to Callie to thank her for her beautiful cover art, I didn't know much besides the fact that she was a Henry Holt editorial intern. Soon, I found out that not only is she interested in breaking into publishing, but she's also an aspiring picture book writer/artist! Read on to find out about the process of making a book cover, why you should always take risks, and what makes picture books so hard to write.

So you just finished up your internship at Holt! How was your first experience with publishing?

I really loved my time at Holt. Everyone was so friendly and I learned so much! It was my first real taste of publishing and I felt reassured that I had picked the right path. Also, getting to work on your cover will always be an unforgettable experience!

Your cover has been the craziest part of a publishing journey that has already had so many crazy parts.

I’m still in shock that they gave my art a chance! I really thought they were just going to politely tell me it was terrible.

How did you even come up with that fantastic cover?

Basically, I was sitting in on the jacket art meeting when they were talking about your cover. Barbara [my editor] explained how you were looking for something unexpected and possibly involving a duck. So I started sketching ducks, which are a lot of fun to draw. Then it popped into my head that maybe picking a duck up by its foot with chopsticks or having a duck upside down in a bowl of duck soup would be surprising. I've always loved surrealism so I take a lot of inspiration from thinking about everyday objects in unconventional ways, like how they might appear in a dream.

After I built up the courage to show Barbara what I had, she said that she would forward them to you. After you had given the go ahead, the art department asked me to make the duck look more serious. I was also told to cut the hand holding the chopsticks, which made the image a bit cleaner. I decided to try watercolor because it’s simple, but allows for me to draw with enough detail that the image wouldn’t look cartoonish. And thankfully they liked it!

I really like this risk-it-to-get-the-biscuit attitude! 

I’m not usually the risk-taking type. Like I would never skydive, and I often doubt myself. But in the right environments, I will just take my chances. That's probably why I'm interested in publishing. It's a field where you can be creative, try new things, and take a few risks.

Are you working on any current projects right now?

My current project is getting a job! I’m also working on picture book, but I’m being very secretive about it. I’m afraid to jinx it! I’ve finished the script, but I am just starting the drawings.

What drew you to children’s books in the first place?

I’ve always loved them and I also think they’re surprisingly difficult to do well. A lot of people just think, I'll write a children's book and it will be easy. They seem simple, but there needs to be some hidden magic in them.

What do you think kids are interested in?

I think first of all they want to be entertained. So trying to force a moral because you’re trying to teach them something can be dull. Kids are very observant and curious, but they also have a lot of fears too. I'm not an expert, but I think kids want a story that validates how they feel inside and reassures them everything will be ok. While also being funny or clever.

I feel like you're reminding me what it was like to be a kid! Which is not too different from being an adult actually...

They are similar in a lot of ways.

One last thing: you said that ducks are fun to draw. Why?

Because they're adorable. And they have the cutest butts.

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Interview with Literati Bookstore Co-Owner Mike Gustafson

Mike may be one of my bosses at Literati Bookstore, but whenever our shifts overlap, our chats behind the register invariably turn into drawn-out conversations. Instead of helping customers (sorry, customers!), we talk about books, writing, and our creative lives, as well as non-pretentious things like the ferret Mike's sister used to own. It was an honor and a pleasure to get to take our conversation one step further in the interview below. Read on to learn about the distinction between an editor and a writer, the grueling routine of a competitive swimmer, and what makes a book the perfect product. 

I’ve always been in awe of all the different roles you occupy, and how little you talk about them. I feel like many people know about one or two of the roles you play, but few people are privy to all of them: writer, photographer, filmmaker, social media guru, community pillar, top indie bookstore owner (and I’m sure so many more). I feel like Notes from a Public Typewriter is a project that makes many of the roles you fill visible. What’s it like to showcase so many different sides of yourself and your life in this book? 

Thank you for that description. I don’t feel like all those things! 

Since I was a film student at Northwestern University, I’ve been obsessed with simple and accessible storytelling. I enjoy learning new ways to tell old-fashioned, familiar stories, whether that’s via cell phone photography or scotch-taping anonymous typewriter notes. This book required many hats, but the main objective with its execution was simplicity. A reader opens the book, and is introduced to the bookstore. Then, the typewriter. Then, a hello from its editor. Then, a few notes…. It was a thrill to identify different elements needed for the book, whether it was using a photograph taken with my dad’s 1970’s Nikon or having fun with lessons I learned in film school, like midpoints and story arcs. 

You make a point to emphasize that you and Oliver [Uberti] are the editors, not the writers, of this book. Yet you’ve written original essays for the book, interspersed between the anonymous typewriter notes. What is the distinction for you between an editor and a writer? 

Over a hundred people, anonymous or not, contributed to this book, so it’d be a narcissistic endeavor to say I wrote it. I contributed a few essays that I thought could provide a setting and place, to humanize and help frame these notes’ anonymous nature. A writer creates, whereas an editor provides framework and structure. It was a pleasure and joy to help build—with many other helpers—the framework for our anonymous writers to create.

I feel like though we’ve had a lot of chats about my writing, we rarely touch upon yours. But I’ve known since I started working at Literati that you’re a writer, and especially well known for your sports writing on swimming (I was warned my first week that swim fans might come in asking for you). How did you start writing? What does writing do for you? 

I love simplicity. A book, for example, is a perfect product. It does one thing perfectly. 

Writing is like that. You can write anywhere, any time. A CVS holds all the things you need: A notepad, a pen. Marilynne Robinson, one of my favorite writers, began Gilead on one of those hotel notepads. That has always stuck with me. And from that hotel notepad or napkin, you can change lives. I believe in that kind of magic—the power of the written word.

After college, I traveled and wandered, and I always brought a notepad and pen with me. I loved that feeling that nothing else was needed… that all you needed was a little ink and elbow grease.  

How has owning a bookstore helped (or interfered) with your attitude toward your own writing? Or your attitude toward reading? 

In film school, I was turned off by experimental film and projects that were too smart or trying too hard. It’s seemed more difficult to me to tell a story that will resonate with a wide audience. So, I appreciate it when a story hits home with a lot of people. I love books that are a delight to read and that I can recommend to others. 

By seeing the array of books that come through our bookstore’s doors, it’s like speed dating. I thought I’d expand my tastes—become a more well-rounded reader. To an extent, that has happened. But now, I also gravitate towards books I know I will love: Simple, clear, some humor, some darkness, lots of heart. While I've expanded my tastes, I’ve also realized what stories I truly want to read. 

What’s an example of a story that was made for you, and what’s an example of a story that made you more well-rounded?

Three books that I could read every day of my life are Let The Great World Spin by Colum McCann, A Constellation of Vital Phenomenaby Anthony Marra, and Lila by Marilynne Robinson. 

Three writers who have expanded my reading tastes and made me more well-rounded (and who I have greatly enjoyed reading) are Maggie Nelson, Anne Carson, and Alice Munro. 

Do you ever think you’ll create a book in which you are the writer?

When I was a competitive swimmer, I loved the long, seemingly unending season. I loved the process. The cold morning swims before school; the autumn dry land conditioning; the New Years Day workouts. I loved Christmas morning workouts in the middle of the swim season and feeling like I was building towards something, like I was going somewhere. Each swim season had an arc—a beginning, middle, and end. And during that season, a swimmer would train the distance of an ocean's crossing for the final 60-seconds to come down to a fingernail. That "fingernail concept" excited me, thrilled me, and kept me engaged with the process.  

Going through the making of Notes was a similar process. It was a long journey, and when I began putting paper into the typewriter, I didn't necessarily know where it would go. But I kept working through it, and one thing turned into another thing, and eventually, months and years later, it's publication day.  

Though of course there were stresses and anxieties along the way, I loved that slow creation process. I think there's something inside of me that's addicted to that process—whether it's helping build a bookstore, a body that can swim from one end of the pool to another, or a book. So to answer your simple question with a very long-winded answer, I would love to publish a novel and experience that creation process again. I greatly admire anyone who has a years-long vision for a project and sees it through. 

Interview with Photographer Margarita Corporan

I follow Margarita Corporan on Instagram (and you should too), so I know how busy she is traveling the world for the perfect picture. I was surprised and gratified when she agreed to an interview. We talked for over an hour, about what it means to be "a creative," how the Internet age has reshaped art, why she never lets herself get too comfortable, and, of course, how to look good in front of the camera. Read on to reap her wisdom.

So you make your living off of photography—would you consider yourself a working artist? 

I’ve always been an artist, but it wasn’t until I started event photography and working in digital advertising that I started to call myself a creative. Because of the time we’re in now, I feel like, at the end of the day, even if you’re a painter, or sculptor—that sort of old school artistry—you’re now asked to display it online. It’s no longer just about your specific art piece, but also about the platform that you’re placing it on to get exposure. So I found myself, as a photographic artist in the 21st century, needing to be more aware of how I displayed my photos. I was becoming more interested in how to design my website, how to promote through social media, but also thinking about the text I put around my photographs, and where to place photographs on the webpage, all of which encompasses being a creative. A creative, I feel, is like a modern version of a working artist. But, yes, I am a working artist.

How did you get to that point of finding financial stability while also getting your creative needs met?

Honestly, my business took off because of social media, and being aware of how images are no longer just used in print, but online. I had to conform myself to understanding how the digital platform works. I come from a print era. I was a photo editor in print publications for eight years, then spent two years at AOL as a digital photo editor. It was while working at AOL that I started to become aware of the demise of print publication and the use of visual publications online. So while I had my 9-5 print job, I moonlighted as an event photographer because I thought to myself, ‘I’m a photographer. I’ve always been a photographer. So how can I make money off of this?’

At the time, everyone was using Tumblr, and Facebook, as a way to express their art. So I opened up a Tumblr account and started blogging every spare moment that I had. I would blog about other photographers I admired, or post about a small photo job that I had done. My friends and followers were recognizing the effort. The one thing I learned from transitioning from full time print to freelance photographer was that whatever you choose to go into, you have to own it. So, to me, that meant calling myself an event photographer. And that’s essentially what I did. I decided to change my Facebook profile from a personal page to a professional photographer’s page. I posted every photo job I did, which let potential clients see what jobs I’d be capable of doing. Like, oh, she did the Tribeca Film Festival and the Bentley event, she can probably handle a Google event. People took me seriously, and I started getting jobs. Basically, I just tried to understand how the Internet could help my industry. The business blossomed from there and I started to feed my creative passion full time.

Tribeca Film Festival

Bentley  

Google

I thought it was interesting that you used the word “conform” earlier when you were talking about fitting your vision onto an online platform. Because “conform” has a negative connotation, especially when it comes to art, I wondered if you felt limits then to this new kind of medium.

It was definitely an adjustment. Coming from print, I felt the treatment of photography was more precious there. Working at a magazine, the satisfaction of being a photographer or photo editor was getting the magazine in your hands, feeling the paper, opening up to that spread that you produced, and seeing your work, so big in print. It was no longer just an image on film, but in this big glossy book.

I also used to show in galleries, so coming from the whole process of being in the darkroom and transferring these images from a small negative or a slide to a large piece of paper, which is then framed and put on a wall; it did feel conforming then to take these images—where you could clearly see all the colors, composition, layering—and upload them onto a screen, presented cropped and minuscule. It didn’t give you the opportunity to see all those beautiful details.

When I worked at AOL in 2004, in the news section, I remember, as a big fan of photo-jourmalism, having to take these amazing images from award-winning photographers and crop and cut the images to show just the head, so that we could put it on the landing page to fit the headline. So it was a real, real, real adjustment. And I would say that my peers and I at the time were frustrated with the value of photography online. But we saw later how the preciousness of visuals changed, and thank God, ten years later, images are appreciated, understood, and respected. They take up a whole web page.

It’s so funny, I didn’t even notice that I’d used the word “conform.” I do think in the beginning the experience of switching to online was negative, but now it’s like God, there’s so many ways to present yourself online. It’s exciting and inspiring.

How would you define your creative voice? How do you hope people will be able to recognize a photograph as yours?

I’m always trying to push the limits of my photography, to push expectations. I’m very passionate, and I always feel like where I am, what I’m doing, is never enough. So, for example, I had an event at the Waldorf Astoria, and this specific crowd was, you know, a little stuffy, a little conservative. I thought, I need to do something different from what anyone’s ever done. So I had my assistant come and hold a light behind the groups of people I was photographing, so that there was a ray of light coming behind them. I wanted to glamorize them. Make this conservative-looking group as glam as Hollywood. It was so much fun.

Are there any other genres of photography that would be a dream to try out, or, on the other hand, that you would never be interested in trying?

I’m actually going through the process of changing my brand a little bit, from event photography to portraiture. It feels like I’m starting over. I’ve been doing event photography for the past seven years. What I love about portraiture is that you can have a bit more creative control—you can come in and decide how your lighting will be set-up, how you want the subject to look, etc. I remember I had my first portrait photography session in college and it came out horrible. My subject was a total stranger that I met on the street and she was really devastated with the photos. After that I always said, I’m not a portrait photographer, that’s not my thing, I can’t do it. And here I am, sixteen years later, wanting to take on jobs as a portrait photographer. So you never know.

Okay, I have to ask, since you’re going into portrait photography, what advice can you give to people who just want to look good in a photo for once?

I will have to admit I’m still trying to figure that out. Because what I found is that, as I’m taking more portraits these last few months, I’m still working on how to get the person more comfortable. The people who are the most comfortable with themselves, or rather have a sense of who they are, can more easily give that to the camera. For example, I did a recent portrait session with a client who kept saying, ‘I’m so bad at pictures. I’m so bad in front of the camera.’ I told her, if you keep saying that, you’re going to look bad in front of the camera. We need to somehow change that mentality. And that’s my job to be able to help her change that in half-an-hour. It was great because I’m taking pictures, taking pictures, taking pictures, and all of a sudden, she felt herself. She felt her beauty. She perked up, gave face, and I was like, THAT’S IT!

I think it was literally her saying, ‘Hey, I’m here. This is who I am.’ It’s hard when you’re forced to give that, when you’re put on the spot, and for some people it’s really hard to connect to that feeling. I would say, honestly, don’t think about it too hard. Just have fun. Put your trust in the photographer. If you can’t, then make light of it. We tend to be too self-conscious in front of the camera, which is normal, and when you finally just let your guard down, whatever that is for you, it comes out, it shows. But look, ask me this six months from now. I might have a totally different answer.