Storytellersunplugged

By David Niall Wilson

A local reading group recently took up the challenge of my novel, Deep Blue. I had the distinct pleasure of being invited to the discussion session, and I thought this was the perfect opportunity to share that experience. I don’t have to tell most of you what a thrill it was to sit at a table with a group of people who had actually read my book, or how rare that experience can be.

I’ll admit that going in I was terrified, and there were several reasons for this. First off, all of the readers in this particular group are women. This isn’t particularly frightening in and of itself, but these ladies include my boss, a very intelligent and picky reader, and a group of her friends. I knew none of the others before that night – so I had no idea what their backgrounds might be, in what direction their literary tastes might run, or whether my book was in any way appropriate.

Another problem was that, despite my insistence over time that “Deep Blue” is my best novel, I find that I’ve grown somewhat distant from it. The things I was experiencing when I wrote the novel aren’t as immediate to me as they once were, and taking an analytical approach to the book, I’m not as sure of its quality as I once was. For one thing, the language in the first chapter is pretty coarse, and the overall environment in which the characters exist is fairly depressing. I think that there are some likable characters for readers to identify with, but that they are not necessarily likeable in the early stages of the novel. I’m reminded of some of the books I love by authors like Peter Straub – books where you have to read an inordinate amount of pages before the pace kicks in and you are mesmerized, but knowing the story as I do, I have lost the mesmerized point almost entirely.

Anyway, after getting lost only one time in downtown Edenton, NC, I parked and found Jeanne (my boss) on the sidewalk. We made our way to the restaurant where they meet, got a table, and waited. There was a piano player in the front window of the place, and he was pretty good, though a little loud for conversation. At one point he joined us at the table, as my companions had the notion of fixing him up with yet another of their friends, but this faded as the young man (very talented, I might add) had a girlfriend already, and shared a lot of personality traits with a damp rag. (I’m probably being harsh, but he wasn’t exactly charming…) As I sat nervously, the other ladies trickled in, and I was introduced. My nerves faded slightly as each of them smiled.

We started slowly. They are all close friends, and they have a lot of peripheral things to talk about. These things became part and parcel of the discussion, blending in and out so easily I almost felt like I knew their friends and families before we were done. In any case, I got to sit back, listen, and enjoy being the only guy at a table of beautiful and animated women. Eventually we started talking about Deep Blue, and that’s when it got interesting.

I learned, for instance, why there are birds on the cover of my novel. I used them symbolically in the novel, but hadn’t remembered it. I probably knew this at some point, but the ending of the novel (to me) is about snakes and drumsticks, and I lost the birds in my own pattern. It was noted that I have at least one character I could have done without, that a lot of my characters seem to speak in the same “voice,” and that the action in one particular passage confused all but one of the readers. At least two readers thought that all of my characters were actually dead – or ghosts. Still others thought they were on drugs, or insane. Old Wally, the harmonica playing mentor to my protagonist, Brandt, was not defined well enough. He might have been alive, dead, or somewhere in between, but whatever it was he wasn’t clear enough. There were an inordinate number of passages in the first chapter (the original novelette) involving tears, and the word “pain” was used a great number of times (Maria is a word counter…sorry I forgot the exact number of tear-inducing moments, but it’s a very valid point) All of them approached the book differently, as well as having a different method of preparing for the discussion. I found, for instance, that at least one of them had actually looked up my web site, read my biography and reviews for the book. (Thanks Kate)

None of them disliked the book, though admittedly most if not all of them would not have chosen it from the shelves. They asked a lot of questions about what I was thinking, about my religious background, and about writing. We talked about everything from Nicholas Sparks to Clive Cussler, commented on formulaic fiction and television commercials. For instance, I learned it isn’t just me who finds it ludicrous that an overweight Australian guy who looks a bit like the “PC” from the Mac/PC commercials is the spokesman for a supposedly Mexican food chain (Taco Bell).

Not all of them finished the book – there was one holdout – but I understand this is about as close as any book has ever come, so that made me feel good, as well. The last of them to arrive was close to finishing, but just didn’t make it. It was harder for her – and I had expected that it would be for some readers — because of her strong religious beliefs and the subject matter of the novel. Also, it was the Christmas holiday – not the best time to curl up and relax with a book, if you have a family.

Not once was I asked if I know Stephen King, or where my ideas come from (though the subject was discussed in a different context). They were perceptive enough to guess that a lot of “Dave” is in the characters in Deep Blue, and if you know the novel, you’ll know that they gave me a couple of nervous, sidelong glances while wondering just how much of those characters was me. I explained to them about my childhood with a drunken stepfather. He was the one who listened to endless Hank Williams Senior albums and I was the kid in the basement with a guitar thats “action” was so stiff and strings so far off the fret board it was nearly impossible to play a chord.

We talked about patterns. You can’t talk about Deep Blue without those patterns – the ones that run in and around us all the time, slipping into the conversation. Each of them had a different perception of those, as well, and what I learned was something I knew, but had forgotten. A book is very different for every reader, despite the common ground it can create. The experience of writing a book is a very personal, individual one, and so is the experience of reading it. I suppose that the patterns I see in the world, and the words, are the same – that if I look at a painting by Van Gogh, and another person sees that same painting, our reactions will be entirely different.

I had a lot of fun that evening, and hope to do it again one day. When I revise Deep Blue for inclusion in the series / trilogy I’ve planned, “The Chord at the End of the Rainbow,” I’ll be keeping the notes I made after this discussion close to hand (and will reduce the number of times I use the word pain, as well as drying up some tears…and when I’m done you will KNOW who had the hot soup spilled on them). Until then, my thanks go out to Jeanne, Kate, Kristi, Vicki, and Maria. I’d also like to thank you all for the first line of a future book, or story. “You should never mix trampolines and fireworks.” (I think I got that right…Kristi is the one with the trampoline, so she’d know…)

The ladies of the rectangle table told me that if any other brave author who might be able to journey into the wilds of Edenton North Carolina for the discussion might want their books read by this august gathering, they can make contact through me, and I’ll be happy to make introductions.

Until next month,

ONWARD!

DNW