This week I got to talk with Mark Dunn, whom I first met in the late '90s, when we were both having our plays produced in Denver, directed by the same director. We stayed in touch and become friends over the years. In terms of juggling writing for different media, Mark has always been an inspiration and role model for me, moving effortlessly from writing mostly plays to writing a variety of books (including one of my very favorite novels, Ella Minnow Pea: A Novel in Letters
).
Back in the 90s and early 2000s, you were getting a lot of productions, at small and mid-size theatres across the country. Belles and Five Tellers Dancing in the Rain were getting a lot of productions . You had a dozen full-length plays published by Samuel French, DPS and Dramatic Publishing. And then your first novel, Ella Minnow Pea, came out and was a big hit. Ella
Minnow Pea has been followed by a whole string of books—what was the
transition like, moving from writing plays to books (and moving,
physically, from New York to Albuquerque)?
The
transition was stranger than I expected. I went from working
exclusively in a very artistically collaborative medium to one in which
the writer has to do most of the heavy lifting. I often make the
comparison when I'm teaching writing workshops between the playscript
serving as a blueprint which then is taken by the director and the
actors and from which the physical play is constructed -- contrasted
with a novel which serves as the creative entity itself and lives or
dies only on the basis of the text itself upon the page. There are
advantages and disadvantages to each: as a playwright I like working
with people who bring their own forms of creativity and artistic insight
into the mix. Together we create this (hopefully) beautiful piece of
theatre that takes its author's original story idea and shapes it into
something that everyone has a stake in. (And woe to the playwright who
gets too proprietary about his work.) But a novelist doesn't get to
benefit from the overlay of other talents and perspectives, except in
terms of editorial input. And I've had editors who were very
hands-off. I've had the other kinds of editors, as well, resulting
in (in one sad case) clashing visions that resulted in my publishing
house siding with my editor and dropping the book altogether. The
physical move from New York to New Mexico paralleled my shift in large
part from writing plays to books. I drew a lot of creative energy as a
playwright from living in a theatre town like New York. But an author
can pen his books anywhere, so my wife and I picked a place that was
quieter and little more sedate than the Big Apple. The irony is that I
really did want to keep my hand in and perhaps write a new play every
year or so and suddenly I had entered a community in which being in the
theatre was considered more of an avocation than a vocation. To put it
bluntly, I moved to a town with an enormous number of community
theatres, and very little opportunities for professional playwrights to
develop new work.
Was Ella Minnow Pea the first novel that you wrote, or the first that was published?
Ella
was my first published novel, but I had written Welcome to Higby
several years before. After Ella was published, my publisher asked what
I'd be working on next, and I handed him Higby. It worked out pretty
well, although the books being so different from each other, spoke to
different sets of readers (and some fans of my "progressively
lipogrammatic epistolary fable Ella Minnow Pea" were looking for
something similar and instead, I gave them a book about a small town in
Mississippi).
How long did it take for you to find a publisher for Ella?
Quite
a while. I couldn't get an agent for an odd book like Ella and had a
hard time landing this unagented novel with a publisher. Most of the
queries to both agents and publishers (for which I received responses)
met with form-letter rejections. Good luck was eventually on my side,
though. MacAdam/Cage had just opened its doors the year before and was
still hungry for manuscripts, even to the point of accepting unsolicited
manuscripts from unrepresented authors. Even MacAdam/Cage doesn't do
that today. Interestingly, when the hardback did well and there was a
bidding war among several of the large publishing houses for the
paperback rights, I had a private laugh over the fact that each of these
publishers participating in the auction for Ella's paperback rights,
had rejected the book when I had first queried them about it.
It seemed like for a while you dived headfirst into writing books, but you’ve managed to keep your hand in theatre. What makes it so hard to leave playwriting?
Many
of the things I noted above, but I should also say that as one who is
basically a storyteller, and a storyteller who first learned to tell
stories through dialogue, playwriting has always been a comfortable
vehicle for me. As a writer who enjoys challenges, I've always felt
that the idea of holding an audience's interest for two hours through
people simply talking to one another on a stage was a challenge that
I especially loved.
Do you find it difficult, as a writer, to go back and forth, or is it actually helpful?
These
days I make that transition fairly easily. It's like an artist who
spends part of his time painting in oil and part of his time painting in
watercolor, which requires two very different techniques, but after a
while you get used to the adjustments. With plays I work small and work
concise. There's an economy of words that must be respected. My
canvas is much, much larger with my novels and I have the chance to
explore the contours of my novels' characters, which I can't do with my
play characters. My latest book, though, offers an interesting
challenge -- American Decameron is 100 short stories. As I've worked
through these stories, I've found that I've had to apply some of my
playwriting rules of saying much with fewer words. But in large part
that's just a difference between long form writing and short form
writing -- the same way that my one-act plays require a different
approach than my full length plays.
Do you find that you have more freedom to challenge yourself and your audience when writing books? When
I look at some of the work you’ve done, Ella Minnow Pea, Ibid
, Under the Harrow
, and your upcoming American Decameron, it seems like you’ve
set up extremely difficult situations for yourself as a writer (for
example, in Ella Minnow Pea, you are forced to progressively use fewer
and fewer letters of the alphabet, Ibid is told entirely in footnotes),
and the reader gets sucked in with seeing whether you can pull it off. It’s
so cool that you’re able to write like this, yet at the same time, it
seems like the publishing industry is becoming more risk-averse in terms
of what they’ll publish. This would seem especially difficult for a writer like you, who is not writing in an established genre. What’s your take on the state of American publishing right now?
And
that pretty much defines where I am right now. I do really enjoy the
constraints and the challenges and the chance to do things that few if
any authors have done before. I can safely say that no author has ever
written a book about a disappearing alphabet in which the alphabet
literally disappears from the book as it goes along. Ella Minnow Pea
has now become fodder for literary trivia -- a weird but fun honor. But
because I tend to do things that have few comparables, it puts me in an
awkward and mostly unfortunate situation with regard to extremely
risk-averse and conservative publishers (which pretty much defines all
of the medium to large-size houses right now.) American Decameron was
rejected by one editor after another when my agent started sending it
around because it was a big book, because it was comprised of short
stories in a day in which very few short story collections are being
published (not that A.D. is a "collection" in the traditional sense),
because it can't be easily described by an editor to those of her
superiors who will ultimately decide its fate. And that's the problem
with the industry right now. Hard economics has made it much more
difficult to take on a book that may have the potential to break out on
its own and turn itself into a publishing phenomenon, but also could end
up falling far short and lose the house money. So what we have is fear
and parochialism in the industry. Something similar, I noticed,
happened with my published plays over the last four years of this
recession. The community theatres that generally license my work from
the play catalogs stopped scheduling plays in their seasons that weren't
in what I call the "cobweb canon." We saw a lot of productions around
the country of old plays (often tired, old plays) with familiar titles.
Most of my plays don't have familiar titles and so my playwriting
revenue went into a several-year slump.
You’ve written one book for kids, The Age Altertron (Calamitous Adventures of Rodney and Wayne, Cosmic Repairboys)
. How did you approach writing for a younger audience?
I
put myself as best I could into the head of the young pre-teen reader.
I kept the language simple but not patronizingly so. What worked best
for me is writing the kind of book that I would have enjoyed reading
when I was twelve. But it definitely required the shifting of a few
gears. Then again, I shift gears a lot. Every book I write requires
its own voice and its own storytelling tool box.
I
love that you’ve been able to do some non-fiction work—you wrote
ZOUNDS!: A Browser's Dictionary of Interjections
and you and your wife,
Mary, put together the comprehensive, United States Counties. Again, you seem able to make some big, fun leaps into other types of projects. How do you balance it all? Do you tend to have a lot of projects running all at once?
I
actually do work on more than one project at a time -- unless I have a
deadline that forces me to concentrate on one particular book or play
until I'm finished. I shuffle through them in such a way that I keep
myself engaged and energized on each one. Maybe that's why I'm allowed
to tell people that I don't get writer's block. If I find myself
getting to a point where I'm going to have work myself through a tough
spot, I move to something else and then come back. Often my return
involves backing up a few chapters or pages and then going at it with a
running start. I also have projects that I've set aside, that I like to
come back to from time to time. My maxim usually is that anything I
write can be made better if I keep working on it. It's only my
published work that I'm not allowed to tinker with anymore. On occasion
I've taken work out that's ten, twelve years old and now with a more
mature eye, I can reshape it in a way that makes it more satisfying for
me.
What is your writing schedule like for a novel, a book of non-fiction, a play? Does it vary a lot?
The
non-fiction can be a slog. The county encyclopedia as the exception to
all my usual rules was like working each day in a salt mine. On the
other hand I usually am having so much fun with my books and plays that
it's hard to pull myself away when I'm "in the zone." People wonder why
I'm able to write such long books. Under the Harrow, for example is
200,000 words, and American Decameron will be 250,000. In large part
it's because I really enjoy spending time with the characters I've
created. I'm also not averse to research and so many of my books have
been pretty heavily researched. I like discovering things in my
research that will serve my story and characters and even sometimes
shift things in an unexpected new direction.
How do you organize the research that you do? (I’m using Scrivener now and really like it.) I’d love to hear about the tools that you use. You worked for a long time at the New York Public Library. Did you learn any good tricks there?
I
use no tools beyond the cerebral ones I've acquired through trial and
error and intuition. For the county encyclopedia Mary and I created a
large WORD database divided into state folders and county files and
using the same template into which to plug in information and text, so
that at the end of the day, the county articles were nearly written from
the assembly of information in each file. But I'm an old fashioned
researcher. I've spent thousands of hours sitting in library reading
rooms with either my laptop or pencils and spiral-bound notebooks,
jotting down facts that I felt might be useful in my plays and fiction
projects. I'm an armchair cultural historian of the 20th century, so
often I was building around information I already knew. With respect to
my last novel, Under the Harrow, it was necessary for me to sit with the
Encyclopedia Britannica from the 1880s and browse through nearly every
page to get a sense as to what it was that my characters would know,
since they were quarantined neo-Victorians who had only this
encyclopedia, a Bible, and the novels of Dickens from which to create
the lions' share of their world-knowledge. In the course of all that
browsing, I discovered several things that furthered the plot of my
novel such as the fact that the encyclopedia had quite a few
translations of Egyptian hieroglyphics words and phrases (plot
point!), or that there were little snippets of Victorian poetry
throughout. I was surprised to learn that as far back as the late 1880s
most scientists had a strong feeling that the invention of
lighter-than-aircraft was only a few years away. How prescient was
that!
What projects are you working on right now? (Weren’t you working on a board game at one point? Wasn’t there going to be a musical of Ella Minnow Pea?).
In
between working on edits of American Decameron, I've been spending time
with an old play from around 2000 that I didn't do much with back then,
as well as a science fiction Young Adult novel I've been working on now
and then for the last eight years. Alas, I had to give up my quixotic
dream of becoming a game designer since there is no more competitive
industry on this planet and especially in this day in which Hasbro has
cornered 90 percent of the board game market (and has its own in-house
designers). Not that I don't have at least five games either prototyped
or living in my head. The Ella Minnow Pea musical premiered about
three years ago at the University of Michigan and its book
writer/lyricist and composer have taken it through a few more rewrites
before hooking up with a theatre company in New York where I believe
it's slated for a workshop production next year. I'm not too well
looped into the project at this point. They just keep paying their
option every year and I try to make sure it doesn't get too expensive
for them since they're very talented and I'd love to see them eventually
get a good New York production.
Thanks, Mark!
2 comments:
A very insightful interview with a talented and complex writer/creator!
Good interview. I've known Mark for several years and have read almost everything he has published. I never tire of his stories and humor. I look forward to his next novel.
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