Nominated: Pulitzer Prize, ForeWord Magazine Book of the Year Award, Pushcart Prize, Frankfurt eBook Award (IEBAF – International eBook Award Foundation), and National Book Award. [I stole this from Harvey’s site because I knew he’d downplay his accomplishments, of which these are only a few.] Read more at his Web site, Stonethread.com, and check out Harvey’s new blog – Writing the World.

On Writing in General

R&T:  When, how, and why did you start writing?

Stanbrough:  I’m not sure. When I was about nine, a teacher asked us to write a story we made up. Mine explained why the U.S. Capitol sits on a hill. Had something to do with the dome falling off and pushing up the ground. Around the same time I wrote a short story about atoms. It was prompted by a trip to the principal’s office. A test question was “Can mankind exactly measure a mile?” I answered No. When asked to explain, I said since we know atoms exist but nobody had seen one yet, we obviously couldn’t measure a mile “exactly,” as in “from one atom to another atom a mile away.” The principal eventually agreed with me and the teacher was miffed. Anyway, I enjoyed telling a story and have been writing ever since.



R&T:  One of the quotes on your site is from Sylvia Plath: “Nothing stinks like a pile of unpublished writing.” You’ve published quite a bit and in different genres, but must have tons of other work sitting in files and old spiral notebooks. Does it taunt you and beg you to submit it?

Stanbrough:  I do have quite a bit of work sitting “in desk drawers,” but no, it doesn’t bother me. The gestation period for different pieces of writing varies, and when it’s ready, it’s ready. Some of it might never be ready, yet it serves a purpose. It might fit in another project or it might take a different direction than I might have forced on it earlier. Besides, it’s all writing: Some has been seen by others and some has not. Some will never be seen by others, but I still had to write it.



R&T:  Between writing prose and poetry, editing, doing the conference circuit and everything else you have going on, how do you find time to work on your own stuff?

Stanbrough:  Is there a secret to balance and productivity? Well, I don’t travel the conference circuit anymore. It’s become too wearing on me. Now I edit others’ works from my home as a day job, and I teach half-day seminars twice each month, one in Huachuca (pronounced wa-CHU-ca) City and one in Tucson. Occasionally I might take the seminars on the road and teach a two-day intensive, but otherwise I just don’t have the heart for traveling anymore. As for my own writing, I’m thinking about it most of the time, even when I’m working on something else. When my own work tugs at me, I stop whatever else I’m doing and write for awhile. Once I’ve drained my pen and left a jagged edge (so it’s easier to take up later), I return to whatever other work I have.



R&T:  What’s a typical day in the life of Harvey Stanbrough look like?
Stanbrough:  Boring. I’m generally up around five a.m., dressed and out for a few-mile walk while the coffee’s making. When I get back, I usually water the garden (unless the monsoons have brought rain), then drink a cup of coffee, answer e-mails, shower, dress, and head for my laptop. If I’m not writing my own stuff, I open whatever I’m going to edit for the day, glance over the last few paragraphs I’ve edited, then go outside and take care of whatever chores need doing. There’s always brush to clear, rocks to stack, etc. When I come back in, I sit down and get to work, usually around eight a.m. I usually eat lunch at my desk, work until around six, then fix supper and maybe catch a movie. After the movie I usually find something to write for a couple hours, then zonk off to bed. Oh, and somewhere in all that I feed my two cats and my Chihuahua a couple times. Told you it was boring.



R&T:  About how many personal writing projects do you juggle at once?

Stanbrough:  I’m currently working on three novels. I recently wrote a few short stories that were picked up by AmazonShorts. I’m also constantly either developing or revising my Writing the World writing seminars, composing and sending instruction to new writers, etc. I don’t really think of it as juggling, though. I just write what’s there. I don’t really feel a sense of urgency about it.

On Prose

R&T:  Do you prefer prose over poetry?

Stanbrough:  No. Each genre has its uses, and usually the subject matter tells me in which genre it wants to express itself. The main difference, of course, is that the Sentence is the basic unit of fiction, nonfiction, plays, etc. The basic unit of poetry is the Line. As Howard Nemerov once wrote in his essay, “On the Measure of Poetry,” “Prose is a way of getting on, poetry a way of lingering. . . . Poetry shares with prose the phrase, the sentence, and even something which the strophe has to do with the paragraph; only the line, the idea of the line, is distinctive. . . . [The poetic line illustrates] that being somewhere matters as much as going somewhere. . . .” That’s a much better answer than I could have come up with on my own.



R&T:  Can you name the most common mistakes writers make, judging from the tons of editing you do?

Stanbrough:  Taking as gospel what they hear in critique groups. If you’re a member of a critique group, you certainly should listen to every criticism, but you should write it down and then consider it later, when the emotion of being critiqued has passed. Then you should apply only those criticisms that you believe improve your work, and ignore the rest. You have spent a great deal more time with your work than have members of your critique group or anyone else, so only you know what will really work or not work. I know writers who have rewritten the same novel (we’re talking 100,000 words) several times, each time based on a different person’s critique. Very sad. The other major problem I see is over-narration. Every time the narrator speaks, he’s coming between the reader and the story. The narrator’s task is to describe the scene, then step out of the way. For example, the narrator should never tell the reader what a character says or thinks. The character’s right there, so why not let the character himself speak in dialogue (or express unspoken thought in italics) so the reader can hear it firsthand? The more the narrator stays out of the way, the more deeply the reader will become engaged in the story. Imagine going to the theater to watch a stage production of Hamlet. Just as the actor is about to deliver his soliloquy, a little guy in a tuxedo walks on stage and says “Okay, folks, here’s what’s about to happen.” That’s the same effect over-narration has your reader.



R&T:  What’s more important to a story/novel: plot, characterization, technical ability, or some other aspect?

Stanbrough:  Characters. You can have the best plot in the world (there are only about 20 or something anyway) but it won’t work if your characters aren’t interesting or if they don’t ring true.



R&T:  Is an MFA essential to a writer’s success, or can one learn enough on one’s own?

Stanbrough:  I don’t have an MFA, and I know (or know of) many successful writers who do not have an MFA. A writer certainly can learn on her own, but doing the work to attain an MFA is just another way of learning. Getting into good writing classes or seminars like mine is a good idea too, but no matter the route a writer takes to learn the craft, in her own mind, with her own mind, she should question everything the instructor says (yes, even instructors in MFA programs, and yes, even in my own seminars).



R&T:  What one thing can writers do to spruce up their dialog?

Stanbrough:  Buy a copy of Writing Realistic Dialogue & Flash Fiction (Central Ave. Press, 2004), of course. The main thing is to let the characters be who they are and say what they want to say in the way they want to say it. Sit in the park or the mall or Denny’s at two in the morning and eavesdrop. Listen to the inflections people use. Let characters use contractions. Okay, and a thousand other things, but mostly it boils down to letting the characters be who they are and say what they want to say in the way they want to say it.

[To be continued . . . ]