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Marc Shuster is one of those unique novelists who has not only mastered the art of telling a tight story in the Aristotelian model of plot, character, and dialogue, but also in regard to his characters’ complex feelings, which reflect all of our own foibles and virtues.  With The Grievers (Permanent Press 2012), Marc has crafted a novel that deftly addresses the issues of loss, career procrastination, and self-worth through the misadventures of Charley Schwartz.  After reading this thought-provoking work, I was pleased to conduct the following interview with the author.

How did your experience writing your first novel, The Singular Exploits of Wonder Mom and Party Girl, inform your approach to your follow-up work, The Grievers?

I actually wrote the first few drafts of The Grievers before I wrote The Singular Exploits of Wonder Mom and Party Girl.  In the earlier drafts, though, I was struggling to stick to a single narrative thread. As a narrator, Charley had a tendency to offer a lot of side stories about his childhood that didn’t contribute to the forward motion of the narrative. Working on Wonder Mom gave me a stronger sense of how a story works and how to keep the action moving in a single direction rather than going all over the place. As a result, revisions of The Grievers that I worked on subsequent to writing Wonder Mom were a lot more focused than the earlier drafts.

Do you find any significant differences in writing a male protagonist with The Grievers‘ Charley Schwartz versus a female one with Audrey Corcoran of The Singular Exploits of Wonder Mom and Party Girl?

Not really. Charley and Audrey are different in a lot of ways, and gender is only one of the differences in the mix. What they have in common, however, is that life has dealt each of them an unexpected blow. For Audrey, it’s rebounding from a bitter divorce and recovering from a debilitating addiction. For Charley, it’s dealing with his friend’s suicide. They’re both ill-equipped to deal with their issues, but that’s the nature of issues. If we were well-equipped to deal with them, they wouldn’t be issues. This is really what I try to get at in all of my fiction-that we’re all frail and flawed in some way, but that these flaws make us human. As someone with plenty of frailties, flaws, and weaknesses, I have a lot of material to draw on regardless of whether my characters are men or women.

How did your time as a student at St. Joseph’s Preparatory School shape your portrayal of St. Leonard’s Academy in the book?

One thing I loved about going to St. Joe’s Prep-or the Prep, as we called it-was a sense of tradition. It’s a Jesuit school, so we learned a lot about Ignatius of Loyola and how he founded the order. I tried to echo this effect in The Grievers by inventing an order of priests called the Noblacs-named for Saint Leonard of Noblac, who is an actual Christian saint. For Charley, attending St. Leonard’s Academy is a bit like stumbling upon a heritage he never knew he had, though he’s fairly ambivalent about living up to the so-called Noblac ideals.

In what way does The Grievers comment on how prep schools enforce a vision of self and school spirit in their students and alumni?

It’s definitely a double-edged sword. On one hand, you have the fact that these schools do a great job of building self-confidence. On the other hand, there’s always the danger of self-confidence turning into unbridled ego. It’s easy, I imagine, to graduate from a place like St. Leonard’s Academy and think that the world owes you something, or at least that the world will make accommodations for you because you’re special-or so you’ve been told. But then the world pushes you around a little bit, and you snap out of it. At least, that happens in the best of situations. Other times, you end up like Charley.

What research did you conduct into the psychology of grieving? 

I really didn’t do any research at all, at least not in the traditional sense. I know that there’s a lot of literature on the topic, particularly with respect to the seven stages of grieving, but I really didn’t want Charley to go through a textbook model of grief. If I started with denial and worked my way methodically to acceptance, the narrative would have felt, at least to me, a little predictable and stilted.

You depict your protagonist as a confused and somewhat lazy Ph.D. candidate.  What type of commentary does this provide on the academic lifestyle?

The thing about being in a Ph.D. program is that you need to be motivated and organized, and these are two qualities that Charley lacks at this point in his life. So I’m not really trying to say anything about the academic lifestyle so much as I’m trying to provide an example of how not to live it.

Are you offering a metaphor via Charley and Karen’s constant struggle to remove the stubborn, yellowed wallpaper from the walls of their home?

I can see how the setting of Charley’s home might work as a metaphor, but that particular detail comes straight out of real life. My wife and I were renovating our first home when I was writing the novel, and the visceral experience of scraping wallpaper from the walls was always fresh in my mind while I was writing. But as I was working on the novel, it also occurred to me that it worked as a metaphor, which is why I kept that detail in the book even as I jettisoned pretty much everything else that appeared in the earliest drafts. Really, Charley knows that his life is a mess-and that it’s all his fault. He’s drifted for so long, relied on his wit and charm (such as it is) for so long, that he’s forgotten how to take charge of anything. What he realizes is that he needs to get his house in order.

Does Charley prove that the dreams of adolescence uncomfortably collide with the reality of adulthood?

As an American growing up at the tail end of the twentieth century, I was encouraged to think of myself as special. We all were. It was the message Mr. Rogers drilled into our heads day in and day out-that we were special, that we could do anything, that a man in a sweater who we’d never met was proud of us just for being us. But then we all graduated from college and came to the sad, sudden realization that we probably weren’t going to get to be the first rock stars in space like we’d been promised. I emphasize probably, of course. Personally, I’m still holding out for that one.

Tom Powers teaches composition courses at Montgomery County Community College. His fiction has appeared in Kaleidotrope and Trail of Indiscretion, and he has had comedy sketches produced by the Philadelphia-based Madhouse Theater Company.

[img_assist|nid=7419|title=Randall Brown|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=125|height=155]I  met Randall in October, 2009 at the Philadelphia Stories Push to Publish Writers Conference at Rosemont College.  I’d scheduled a “speed date” with him after reading a couple issues of Smokelong Quarterly, his parting letter as he was leaving SLQ, and several of his flash pieces, which was all it took to be hugely impressed. When I pitched my story to him, I had not yet published any work, but had won a couple writing prizes (that I’d thought might be flukes). Although he didn’t think my story was right for SLQ, he was extremely helpful and managed–in exactly fifteen minutes–to give specific tips on how to improve my piece.  

After connecting on Facebook and becoming a loyal follower of his blog (http://www.flashfiction.net), I embarrassingly confessed (publicly) that Randall was a literary crush of mine. I then had the opportunity to attend his literary short story workshop at the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference in 2010.  I bought Mad to Live, his award-winning collection, which I devoured on the train to and from the conference and also purchased the Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction, which features his essay Making Flash Count. These reads sealed my crush into flashy permanence.

I recently spoke to Randall about why flash matters.

The new edition of Mad to Live from PS Books, a division of Philadelphia Stories, features four “bonus tracks.”  How did you go about selecting which additional stories to include?

They were ones not previously imagined for the collection but, during readings, tended to get an insane response from an audience. These made the literary crowd get up out of their seats, hold their lighters up into the air, and chant "Randall! Randall! Randall!"

You recently founded Matter Press and Journal of Compressed Creative Arts. If Matter Press and Journal of Compressed Creative Arts were the answer(s), what would be the question(s)?

Well, here’s one for the (very) drawn-out journal name: What is the most ironic name for a journal that focuses on compression? And here’s one for the press: "Who will be publishing collections from Carol Guess and Kathy Fish?" 

What is the worst mistake you’ve ever seen a flash writer (or would-be flash writer) make?  

A number of unpublished flashes I’ve read lack an understanding of very short fiction beyond the idea that “it’s very short.” These pieces don’t rise to the challenge of compression and don’t push against the boundaries of the form, don’t take on the implied and explicit rules of fiction and narration, and don’t surprise with what discoveries in terms of language and form they’ve made by writing in such a tiny space. What can be learned from them? Don’t just think of flash as a word-count; think of it as encompassing an attitude about fiction, a chance to do something remarkable, to achieve what cannot be achieved if one is given all the space in the world within which to work.

Many writers are teachers as well. Can you explain the relationship between your teacher-self and your writer-self?

The teacher-self is player turned coach, trying to make those around me better; the writer-self is Allen Iverson.

Do you see yourself writing flash as an old man? Might you ever tire of the form?

The form might become tiring if one doesn’t work to reinvent it with each successive piece. That process seems endlessly interesting and engaging to me.

In your elucidation of other writers’ flashes, you often consider the first word and the last.  If you could be one word in a flash, which word would it be, the first, last, or some word near the middle?  Why?

If indeed every word counts in flash fiction (an idea I’ve seen everywhere but have begun to doubt), I’d like to be the one word that snuck in there somehow without counting. It’s cool to be the one that doesn’t belong. Isn’t that what writing flash is all about? Setting yourself and your writing against the world that would have those things not matter?

Nicole Monaghan’s recent work appears or is forthcoming in Used Furniture Review, Storyglossia, PANK, Foundling Review, and Negative Suck. She lives with her husband and three children outside of Philadelphia and keeps a literary website at www.writenic.wordpress.com.

[img_assist|nid=7102|title=Kerri Schuster|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=249|height=113]This profile space is normally reserved for local authors with new books hot off the presses. But this issue, we decided to recognize someone of priceless value to the magazine: a Philadelphia Stories member. The member we chose is someone who has supported the magazine not just financially, but has given countless hours of her time volunteering for Philadelphia Stories: Kerri Schuster.

I first met Kerri Schuster after we published her husband’s story, My Life as an Abomination, in Fall 2005. Kerri attended her husband Marc’s readings for Philadelphia Stories, and then began volunteering for our events, helping us stuff envelopes, being a regular supportive audience member for readings by other Philadelphia Stories authors – as well becoming a regular financial contributor to the magazine. As I got to know Kerri, I was very impressed: she is smart, creative, talented, funny, and passionate. So, when we decided to take the plunge and form an executive board Philadelphia Stories, a decision we feel is crucial for the survival of the Philadelphia Stories mission, the first name on our invitation list was Kerri. We knew that she would bring her passion and commitment to the board, and she now serves as Board Secretary. I asked Kerri to share her story.

What do you do for a living, and for your creative work?                                         

I am the Head of the English Department at the Country Day School of the Sacred Heart in Bryn Mawr. I have been there for eleven years and teach eleventh grade American literature and twelfth grade creative writing. I love being around my students because they energize me and challenge me to be a better teacher. 

In addition, I have been a participant in Alison Hicks’ Greater Philadelphia Wordshop Studio for about a year. Joining in that community of writers has helped me develop my writing and produce new work. In February, I took part in a teacher-writer retreat called “A Room of Her Own Making,” sponsored by the A Room of Her Own Foundation. The three-day retreat at Pendle Hill allowed women teachers who write to come together and find time to create and communicate in a relaxed and very encouraging atmosphere. I was able to work on my poetry and meet with experienced writers such as Mary Johnson and Meredith Hall.  

When did you learn about Philadelphia Stories, and what made you decide to become a member and volunteer?

I first learned about Philadelphia Stories when my husband, Marc Schuster, became involved in the magazine. I loved attending events and found myself meeting great writers from all over the Philadelphia area. Eventually, I was helping out at events and supporting PS in other various ways, including by becoming a member. I was honored when asked to join the board as the secretary and hoped to be able to ensure the longevity of the magazine and all its worthy endeavors. I am also on the committee for a new program, PS Junior, launching next Fall. This seemed a natural extension of my work as a high school teacher, and I was excited to be able to give young people a chance to see their own work published.

How do you think Philadelphia Stories helps the local writing community, as well as your own work? 

Until I started working with Philadelphia Stories, I had no idea the Delaware Valley had such a vibrant and vast writing community. Through the magazine, I have been able to learn about local literary events, meet local writers and become a part of a world that just a few years ago I didn’t even know existed. Writing can be a lonely process, but being able to connect with other writers and attend local workshops, especially those sponsored by PS, can remind you that you don’t have to always work alone.

I have found the local literary community to be incredibly encouraging and welcoming. Philadelphia Stories has been instrumental in providing a place for writers to come together, and I have witnessed wonderful examples of camaraderie and support at both Push to Publish and the Rosemont Writers’ Retreat. 

Where do you hope to see Philadelphia Stories in the future?  

The future of Philadelphia Stories has never looked better. With the introduction of PS Junior, we will be able to bring the experience to a whole new group of writers. There aren’t many venues for young people to share their work, and I believe our latest endeavor will give students a much-needed opportunity to see their work in print. I also see PS Books continuing to publish excellent local authors and poets, and I see Philadelphia Stories continuing to offer superb workshops and retreats by prominent local writers. Of course, none of this would be possible without the help of our readers. That’s why it’s so important that you support the magazine and become a member!  

How does your with Philadelphia Stories fit into your personal creative and professional goals?

My personal, creative, and professional goals flow naturally together. That’s why my work with the magazine has come so easily to me. Every day I teach the next generation of young writers, but I also want to set an example for them by working with a local organization that shares my goals and seeks to support the arts in Philadelphia.

For information about how you can become a member, go to www.philadelphiastories.org

[img_assist|nid=6585|title=Allison Alsup|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=125|height=167]New Orleans resident and budding author, Allison Alsup is this year’s winner of the Marguerite McGlinn Prize for Fiction, the annual Philadelphia Stories contest presenting the winning author with a prize of $2,000 and a plane ticket to Philadelphia where she was honored for her work at an awards dinner. Allison’s winning story, “East of the Sierra,” forms one chapter of her novel, a current work-in-progress tentatively titled No Place  in This World. Allison’s other awards include the 2009 New Millennium Short Short Contest for her short story “Grass Shrimp,” as well as three stand-alone pieces from her novel that have won national contests. A fourth excerpt was selected as a finalist and will be published next summer in Salamander, a magazine for poetry, fiction, and memoirs.

Congratulations on becoming the winning author of the 2010 Marguerite McGlinn Prize for Fiction! What are your feelings on such an accomplishment?

The Philadelphia Stories win has been particularly special because it has been so personalized — Ru Freeman taking  the time to write such a gorgeous paragraph about my work, this profile, and the awards dinner where I met the magazine staff and the McGlinn family. To be an emerging writer and to have such efforts made on your behalf is overwhelming; you’re not used to it and you don’t quite know how to handle such positive emotions.

Your story "East of the Sierra" beautifully illustrates the struggles of two Chinese immigrants, as well as the relationship between a father and his son. From where did you draw your inspiration for the story?

The idea for “East of the Sierra” came from a two–sentence footnote in a history book.  I wish I had some alluring explanation for why a white, educated, contemporary American woman is so fascinated by turn-of-the-century, working class Chinese migrant men. I am sure that part of my interest stems from the fact that my husband is half Chinese-American and that I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, a region that has been significantly influenced and, in some cases, built by generations of Chinese-American men. There is also the California landscape itself and its endless inspiration. But I think what keeps me writing is that the “Bachelor Society” world of early Chinese migrants is one of conflict and tension, discrimination and identity issues, uncertainty and instability — the stuff of compelling stories. When I started, I thought, “what am I doing writing this”? I wasn’t even sure if I had the right to write about another ethnicity. But now I understand that I was drawn to such characters because, like them, my own future and sense of self felt so unsure. In many cases, they overcame impossible odds and demonstrated profound resilience. It’s what I’m hoping for.

You went from full-time teacher to full-time author – how did you make this difficult transition?

A little less than two years ago, I was laid off from my university teaching job in New Orleans. I was working part-time, having reached the tough decision that five years of teaching a full load of English was leaving me with no energy and inspiration for my own work. The decision to walk away from a possible lifetime position in favor of my fiction, which had no track record of success, was a little terrifying, but, like a lot of writers, I felt a had no choice. You have to write or everyone within hearing distance suffers. I’d spent about a year and a half financially maneuvering and slashing our budget to even get to a place where my husband and I could live on less. But the recession hit and so after just one semester of “the plan,” and just two days before Christmas, all the part-timers in my department were let go. Suddenly, I was applying for unemployment. I was stunned; there was no plan B.  It wasn’t clear if there would ever be classes again. It was mid-year; I sent out resumes and received zero response. There were quite a few breakdown and tirades of the so-every-bad-decision-I-have-ever-made-has-come-to-this variety.

What finally made you sure that you had made the right decision?

In the beginning of January 2009, I realized I needed a new plan: just write. I told myself that I would allow myself two years to get any kind of bite, any publication whatsoever. If no one wanted anything by then, I would stop the bleeding and enroll in some sort of certification course. I was daunted, unsure of where I should put my energies. I think a lot of writers face these manic moments where we tell ourselves, I could do this idea, that idea, or the other thing I just thought of and, for a while, we have to date our stories before committing to a long term relationship. Finally, I told myself enough talking about it, enough finding clothes and dishes to wash, just do it. I gave myself one hour to start on an idea that I had very little knowledge but whose quiet, watery images kept playing in my mind. I referred to it as the Chinese fisherman story.  That night I started a short short called “Grass Shrimp”–a conceptual overview of the novel I am now writing and from which “East of the Sierra” forms a stand alone chapter. About six months later, “Grass Shrimp” won the 2009 New Millennium Short Short Contest. When the call came in, I was filthy, having just helped my husband to install some rain gutters. I [continue to] work on a very part-time basis, teaching creative writing with an after school program that offers academic and financial support to inner-city high school students here in New Orleans. The program is called College Track and is in association with the Urban League.

What do you think the future has in store for you? What inspires you to continue to write?

As of this fall, new teaching opportunities have arisen, but I’ve declined. My husband Gavin, a historic home renovator, has managed to support me this far. We have no cash reserves, but we’re moving forward in a sort of faith and stubbornness that writing needs to occupy the center of our lives. Most writers, including myself, couldn’t do what I am doing alone. I could not do this without Gavin’s patient belief and his willingness to swing a hammer on my behalf. You need help: a little money, someone to hold you accountable, and you need supporters, like Philadelphia Stories, who say keep going.

[img_assist|nid=6820|title=Kim Brittingham|desc=|link=node|align=left|width=200|height=191]Kim Brittingham’s Read My Hips: How I Learned to Love My Body, Ditch Dieting and Live Large is due from Random House this coming spring. A native Philadelphian, Kim recently took some time to talk with us about her work, our culture’s obsession with body image, and the future of the written word.

 Let’s start with your book. Read My Hips is due in the spring from Random House. Can you tell us what it’s about and what inspired you to write it?

Read My Hips: How I Learned to Love My Body, Ditch Dieting and Live Large is a collection of stories about my body image and how it’s changed throughout my life. Body image is a complex, multi-layered issue and it touches nearly every American female alive today. I don’t think there’s a woman anywhere in the Western world who won’t identify with Read My Hips. It’s about food, dieting, self-esteem, the influence of the media and pop culture, the longing for acceptance, the desire to be desired; Read My Hips covers a lot of territory. Strangely enough, I didn’t set out to write a book on this subject. When I met my agent, I’d written a completely different memoir and that’s what I expected to sell. But I had also published some body image-related essays online–on iVillage, for example—and those pieces always drew a huge reader response. Most of the attention was positive and usually in the vein of, “Oh my god, it’s like you’re writing about my life.” My agent suggested I narrow the focus of my book to body image, and that’s how Read My Hips came about.

 Why do you think our culture is so obsessed with thinness? Is it all because of the media, or is there something else at work?

I’m not sure why we’re obsessed with thinness. There are several theories out there. I think a large part of it has to do with corporate interests wanting the biggest possible share of our paycheck. It’s funny. We complain about having to pay so much in taxes, but we let corporations con us out of the biggest portion of our earnings. As long as people with something to sell can keep us convinced that we can’t be happy without their product, they’ll continue to get richer and we’ll continue throwing money after the dream they’ve painted for us. The quest for weight loss is pitched to us as this holy thing, this pursuit more virtuous than any other and, if you pay attention, you’ll find the message everywhere. We’re seduced into obsessing about the size and shape of our bodies; we’re even frightened into it, so we can be led like a bunch of sheep. It’s been working for decades now. 

 How did you come to accept and love your own shape? Do you have any advice for people who may be struggling with who they are as opposed to what they’re “supposed” to look like?

For me, self-acceptance didn’t happen overnight. It was a gradual process. It started with some tentative “dares”, almost. At a time when I felt my life couldn’t begin until I was thin “enough,” I dared myself to imagine living life as a fat girl and still having a thrilling, satisfying life. I used to think that wasn’t possible. I thought I had to whittle and sculpt my body into some fantasy goddess shape before I could begin living in the role of the goddess. Instead, I let myself imagine living life as a goddess who also just happened to be fat. Over time, as I lost more and more inhibitions about my body, I felt less self-conscious. I was left only with embarrassment about individual body parts, but eventually I shed those too. The last to go was my shame over my legs. This past summer was the first time in years I romped around in short dresses and didn’t care what anybody else thought. It was liberating! It’s hard to give advice about this because the process is so individual, but I will say this: whatever you think you’ll achieve by changing your shape, imagine yourself having it without having to alter your body to get it. In other words, if you’re thinking, “Oh, if only I were thin, I’d pursue my dream of acting on the stage,” then try on a daydream of yourself acting in your current body. Imagine yourself being enthralled by it; imagine being successful at it. If you think changing your shape will bring you love, imagine finding love in the body you’ve got. The fact is, your dreams are entirely possible. The size and shape of your body doesn’t need to be part of the equation. Daring to imagine is a powerful first stepand it’s entirely safe. It happens in the privacy of your mind, so you can explore freely, go wherever you want to go, without limits.

 You grew up in Northeast Philadelphia. Did that have an effect on you as a writer? Is there anything you’d describe as a Philadelphia sensibility that creeps up in your work?

I don’t see Philadelphia creeping up in my work, but it does creep up in my accent occasionally. Like when I ask for a glass of “wooder.”

 Your presence on the internet is quite strong. How did your writing for the web contribute to writing and eventually publishing Read My Hips?

Writing for the web made all the difference in getting Read My Hips published. Without the internet, I don’t know what kind of writer I’d be today. I might still be hoarding spiral notebooks filled with Duran Duran fan fiction in my filing cabinet. My first essay was published by Fresh Yarn, which only exists online. That encouraged me to keep writing. I was further encouraged by complete strangers who found my essays and blogs and sent the world’s most supportive e-mails. My agent found my work on the internet and reached out to represent me. And because readers’ comments were visible in a lot of cases, it enabled my agent to see what subject matter I wrote about most affectingly. It all paved the way to selling Read My Hips to Random House. 

 Where do you see the web fitting into the larger culture of reading and writing—or within the larger context of the publishing industry? Do you see writing for the web as a good place for burgeoning writers to begin? 

The web is a great place for writers. These days, you don’t have to fight so hard to get accepted into journals or sell your work to magazines. You can start your own blog; network with other writers; access more information than you’ll ever be able to digest in a lifetime – all for free.  You don’t even need to publish a book to say what you want to say. You just write it and put it out there. I think the web has brought a lot of “closet writers” out into the open, and it’s a good thing. Communication is enriching and healthy. I’m not sure how reading will continue to change because of the internet; I just know that it will. My friends are all starting to buy Kindles now and there’s no denying they allow for amazing portability of reading material. I’m not one to stand in the way of progress and I wouldn’t try – but I have to admit, I love books. I’m already feeling nostalgic about them. I love the way they feel in my hands, I love turning the pages with my fingers, I love the smell of the ink and paper. But I do believe they’re going the way of the vinyl album. I still own some of those, too.

 Do you have any plans for a follow-up to Read My Hips? 

Right now, I’m developing a one-woman stage show based on Read My Hips, so stay tuned for that. I’m also in the process of writing the proposal for book number two, which has nothing to do with bodies; nevertheless, the subject matter is something almost everyone can relate to. Stay tuned for that, too!Marc Schuster is the editor of Small Press Reviews and the Associate Fiction Editor of Philadelphia Stories. His novel, The Singular Exploits of Wonder Mom and Party Girl, was published by PS Books in 2009, and a new edition is forthcoming from The Permanent Press.

[img_assist|nid=6501|title=Paul Lisicky|desc=|link=node|align=right|width=150|height=182]Paul Lisicky is the keynote speaker for the fourth annual Push to Publish event at Rosemont College on October 16, 2010. A graduate of the Iowa Writer’s Workshop, Lisicky’s works have been published in many journals, including Ploughshares and StoryQuarterly, and he currently teaches at New York University. Lisicky is the author of a novel, Lawnboy, and a memoir, Famous Builder. He has also written two forthcoming books, the novel The Burning House (2011) and Unbuilt Projects (2012), a collection of short stories and essays. 

Your website says only that The Burning House is "a novel about the complexities of longing and desire." What else can you tell us about the story?

The story is about a man whose life unravels once his sister-in-law moves in. She evokes for him all the qualities that once drew him to his wife, and he’s a wreck about it, because he doesn’t want to tear up his settled life, doesn’t want to hurt his wife. On another level, the story is about the relationship between home and community life; the community where the story takes place is undergoing redevelopment, houses torn down right and left, houses turned into commodities. How does all that affect the life at home?

From where do you draw inspiration?

The moment in front of me, the moment ahead of me, the wish to transform that moment into something felt, active, remembered.

As the keynote speaker for Push to Publish, you will be sharing advice and wisdom with aspiring writers. What is the best piece of writing advice you’ve ever received?

I spent years writing what I thought I should write, what I imagined to be publishable. Things changed once I was given permission to write what (and how) I needed to write. I think that’s when my real writing began.

What made you want to write a memoir? How did you approach this project differently than your fiction?

I didn’t want to do another version of the novel I’d just written, and the shift in voice and stance helped me to access aspects of my character I’d never put on the page before. I don’t mean to be disingenuous, but it didn’t feel so much like a decision. I just happened to be writing an essay for fun one day, a piece about my childhood next door neighbor, who happened to be both an avatar of style and a bit of a nutbasket, and the voice that came out sounded looser than anything I’d done before.

How much do your novels reflect your real life?

I’d say they’re emotionally autobiographical but they’re not literally autobiographical. The feelings are certainly real, but not the facts.

You are releasing a collection called Unbuilt Projects. Given the similarity in titles, is there any connection to Famous Builder? What binds the pieces together into a unit?

The thread of building and community planning certainly binds all my books. And I deliberately wanted Unbuilt Projects to talk back to Famous Builder. Famous Builder is my attempt to locate my family in time, to think about how a certain historical moment informed how we thought about identity, memory, social aspiration, art. Unbuilt Projects, on the other hand, deconstructs the family narrative. My mother developed senile dementia in the last years of her life, and once she lost the major signposts of her memory, the whole family story seemed to go down with it. We didn’t know that her allegiance to story was in fact holding us together, and once her mind went, who were we?

Read more about Paul Lisicky and his work at www.paullisicky.com.

[img_assist|nid=5973|title=Scars on the Face of God|desc=|link=node|align=right|width=133|height=200]What do you get when you take a story of ancient satanic text and mix corporate corruption, an ailing child, and an elderly church caretaker who has lost his faith? You get C.G. Bauer’s thrilling novel Scars on the Face of God. Set in a small town in Pennsylvania, it tells the story of Johannes “Wump” Hozer and his fight for justice against a company that has been polluting a small town. C.G. Bauer’s new novel is full of suspense and mystery, taking the reader on a roller coaster ride through modern horror laced with ancient hysteria.

Your novel “Scars on the Face of God” is inspired by the “Devil’s Bible.” How did you first come across the “Devil’s Bible?”
The movie The Devil’s Advocate (Al Pacino, Keanu Reeves) produced an ‘aha’ moment when Pacino’s Satan talks of ‘rewriting history.’ It made me ask if there was evidence of attempts to relate religious events in history from Satan’s viewpoint. An internet search produced the Devil’s Bible, aka ‘Codex Gigas,’ which translated means ‘The Giant Book.’ A 13th century religious artifact now on display in the National Library of Sweden, dubbed at one time the eighth Wonder of the World, and a spoil of one or more European wars, the enormous and lengthy (nearly 700-page) Devil’s Bible was written as a penance, according to legend, in one night by a Bohemian monk with the help of the Devil. It gave me chills thinking about how perfect a plot anchor it could be for a horror novel. I should note here that the setting of the novel is not a foreign county in medieval times but rather in 1964 in a German Catholic parish in fictitious Three Bridges, PA, a town I set just outside Philadelphia in Bucks County. How the allegedly demonic manuscript found its way to a small parish in the Archdiocese of Philadelphia is something readers will need to learn on their own.

Can you give us a quick blurb of your novel?
Church caretaker Johannes “Wump” Hozer, 65, survived a knockabout childhood as an orphan and a stint in prison (his nickname is from the sound a crowbar makes when it hits a man’s head) with the help of his beloved wife Viola. He’s lost his faith mostly because the Catholic Church has apparently ignored the repeated salacious behavior of the parish’s monsignor. On a second front he’s taking matters into his own hands, looking for satisfaction against a tannery that is dumping waste into the local water supply, something Wump is sure caused his son’s leukemia. What he doesn’t count on is resurrecting a 19th century hysteria that leads to confronting what may or may not be the anti-Christ. It’s old-school, personal horror laced with suspense and mystery, and I’m really happy with how the multiple plotlines worked so well together.

How did you come up with the idea for your novel?
An admission: Originally conceived, Scars was to be a mainstream novel. Kudos to my wife Terry for giving it traction as a paranormal/horror thriller by passing a comment about a few of the characters; something she saw in them that I hadn’t. A plot spoiler, so I won’t go into her comment here, but I found it potentially so intriguing that I needed to act on it, which sent the novel in a different direction. The clincher came after my epiphany around the Devil’s Bible. A classic example of an author learning what the story is about after having started to write it.

What type of research did you do for your book?
There was what I considered to be an abnormal cluster of impaired children living in my northeast Philadelphia neighborhood during my childhood. Couple that with having read Jonathan Harr’s nonfiction A Civil Action, which chronicles the alleged effects of dumping carcinogens into the environment by leather tanneries in a small town in Massachusetts. Additional research revealed that there was a proliferation of leather tanneries around the Philadelphia region in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. (Note: The tannery waste dumping issues and the impact they have on the novel’s Philadelphia setting are strictly fictitious.) A writer friend revealed that tanning leather could be hastened by using dog feces in the process, knowledge passed down from his grandfather who during poorer times had collected neighborhood dog droppings and delivered them to a local tannery; debatably one origin of the phrase “pay dirt.” For a somewhat livelier and colorful aside, I endowed my protagonist’s childhood with a similar pursuit.

More input from my wife, a social worker and my best muse: In mid to late 19th century there weren’t enough U. S. laws to protect children from abuse by their parents. [Alert to readers: graphic image coming.] Child protection groups cite anecdotally that orphanages were built in some urban environments because local sewer systems couldn’t handle the volume of infant bodies being discarded into them by poor families with too many mouths to feed. With too few laws to stop such barbarism it wasn’t uncommon for some of the outraged citizenry to invoke local animal rights and abuse statutes and penalties in attempting to stem this and other child mistreatment when it was discovered.

You’ve spent much of your life living in Philadelphia and Pennsylvania, among many other places. Why did you choose PA for your novel and how did your years of living here influence your novel?
I’m a product of Philadelphia Catholic schools and Penn State University, and I received excellent educations from both. I could say that this fits into the “write what you know” writing method but the story could have had been told in multiple eastern U. S. settings where growth of 19th and 20th century manufacturing had caused urban expansion to encroach unregulated into rural areas. So choosing this environment was frankly a comfortable thing for me, where I felt I could visualize the events better because of an inherent feel for and attachment to my home town. Plus there is one other key relationship the novel shares with the area: the fictitious orphanage that plays so prominent a role in the multiple plotlines is fashioned after St. Vincent’s Home in Tacony, truly a Philadelphia icon. It’s ceased its existence as an orphanage, is now part of a program of Catholic Social Services of the Archdiocese of Philadelphia known as St. Vincent Homes, providing services to Philadelphia’s abandoned, abused and neglected children and their families. Dating back to its life as an orphanage, it’s been providing these services for over 150 years.

How long did it take for you to write your novel?
The novel took three years to complete (I have a very demanding day job) then over a year to interest a publisher in it. Drollerie Press is a little-engine-that-could small press that delivers stories steeped in legend and fairy tale. Inspired by the legend around The Devil’s Bible, Scars was a natural fit for them. Available from Drollerie first as an eBook, the publisher released it as a trade paperback in December 2009. In its electronic format it’s a finalist for a 2010 EPIC Award (formerly known as the “Eppies”) in horror, awarded annually for excellence in electronic publishing.

Who is your favorite character in the book?
Hands down, narrator Wump Hozer is my favorite. Writing him in the first person provided for a strong, in-your-face voice. He’s a man’s man with a nearly debilitating burden, the recent loss of his son, a burden that drives him to confront utility company bureaucrats, tannery management, and Archdiocesan dignitaries. He’s aged gracefully, is sure he can still beat the snot out of men half his age and, if necessary, do the same to demons many centuries his senior. He’s very much in love with his wife of forty years and is quite attached to the nuns who run the local orphanage, and to the orphanage’s residents. He’s closest to one orphan in particular, the ambitious but slow-witted Leo, his gopher for parish custodial duties.

What do you hope people will experience while reading your novel?
I want them to continue to turn the pages. I want to thrill them with characters’ insights and discoveries. I want them to be so drawn into the story that they try to finish it in one sitting. I want them to experience a character’s pain, feel his adrenaline rush, her euphoria; his shock and awe; her surprise at an ‘aha’ or a twist; his and her sentimentality and humanity. I want readers to say, “Whoa. That was good. What else you got?” What they won’t experience: excess squeam. While displaying blood and guts was necessary and fun to do in spots, the novel isn’t terribly horrific in this regard. I’ll add here that no zombies or vampires were harmed in the creation of this work of fiction simply because no zombies or vampires are in it. Not that there’s anything wrong with them. I love zombies. My wife says she’s married to one.

Did you incorporate your personality into your novel? Are there any characters who share your personality?
My personality is surely in there. Hopefully it’s only the more interesting attributes. With Wump it’s his stubbornness and his short-fused responses to hopeless situations, where he tells his infinitely more powerful adversaries to go screw themselves. Not necessarily a smart thing to do but he does it anyway, daring them to make their move. He shows plenty of misplaced hubris but also a ballsey-ness I feel we all aspire to.

Where can readers find you?
My website, cgbauer.net. The novel is available in print and electronically from publisher Drollerie Press and the other usual outlets such as Amazon (AmazonSCARSlink)
and Barnes & Noble (BarnesSCARSlink), or order it through your local independent bookstore (IndieboundSCARSlink). It’s also available as a Kindle eBook at Amazon and in other electronic formats at eBook venues like Fictionwise, Books on Board, etc. My short fiction has appeared in the crime/pulp ezine Thuglit (issue #29) and has been podcasted by Well Told Tales (horror/crime/pulp; WTT #60; 9,000 free audio downloads of my short story “You’re A Moron”). As always, if the writing resonates for a reader, feedback and reviews are welcome—encouraged—in any venue the reader finds my work.

P.S. to PS: Thanks so much to the folks at Philadelphia Stories for giving this Philly boy the chance to chat about his work. Continued success to the magazine, a valued publication highlighting the Philly literary scene!

[img_assist|nid=5973|title=Scars on the Face of God|desc=|link=node|align=right|width=175|height=262]What do you get when you take a story of ancient satanic text and mix corporate corruption, an ailing child, and an elderly church caretaker who has lost his faith? You get C.G. Bauer’s thrilling novel Scars on the Face of God. Set in a small town in Pennsylvania, it tells the story of Johannes “Wump” Hozer and his fight for justice against a company that has been polluting a small town. C.G. Bauer’s new novel is full of suspense and mystery, taking the reader on a roller coaster ride through modern horror laced with ancient hysteria.

Your novel “Scars on the Face of God” is inspired by the “Devil’s Bible.” How did you first come across the “Devil’s Bible?”
The movie The Devil’s Advocate (Al Pacino, Keanu Reeves) produced an ‘aha’ moment when Pacino’s Satan talks of ‘rewriting history.’ It made me ask if there was evidence of attempts to relate religious events in history from Satan’s viewpoint. An internet search produced the Devil’s Bible, aka ‘Codex Gigas,’ which translated means ‘The Giant Book.’ A 13th century religious artifact now on display in the National Library of Sweden, dubbed at one time the eighth Wonder of the World, and a spoil of one or more European wars, the enormous and lengthy (nearly 700-page) Devil’s Bible was written as a penance, according to legend, in one night by a Bohemian monk with the help of the Devil. It gave me chills thinking about how perfect a plot anchor it could be for a horror novel. I should note here that the setting of the novel is not a foreign county in medieval times but rather in 1964 in a German Catholic parish in fictitious Three Bridges, PA, a town I set just outside Philadelphia in Bucks County. How the allegedly demonic manuscript found its way to a small parish in the Archdiocese of Philadelphia is something readers will need to learn on their own.

Can you give us a quick blurb of your novel?
Church caretaker Johannes “Wump” Hozer, 65, survived a knockabout childhood as an orphan and a stint in prison (his nickname is from the sound a crowbar makes when it hits a man’s head) with the help of his beloved wife Viola. He’s lost his faith mostly because the Catholic Church has apparently ignored the repeated salacious behavior of the parish’s monsignor. On a second front he’s taking matters into his own hands, looking for satisfaction against a tannery that is dumping waste into the local water supply, something Wump is sure caused his son’s leukemia. What he doesn’t count on is resurrecting a 19th century hysteria that leads to confronting what may or may not be the anti-Christ. It’s old-school, personal horror laced with suspense and mystery, and I’m really happy with how the multiple plotlines worked so well together.

How did you come up with the idea for your novel?
An admission: Originally conceived, Scars was to be a mainstream novel. Kudos to my wife Terry for giving it traction as a paranormal/horror thriller by passing a comment about a few of the characters; something she saw in them that I hadn’t. A plot spoiler, so I won’t go into her comment here, but I found it potentially so intriguing that I needed to act on it, which sent the novel in a different direction. The clincher came after my epiphany around the Devil’s Bible. A classic example of an author learning what the story is about after having started to write it.

What type of research did you do for your book?
There was what I considered to be an abnormal cluster of impaired children living in my northeast Philadelphia neighborhood during my childhood. Couple that with having read Jonathan Harr’s nonfiction A Civil Action, which chronicles the alleged effects of dumping carcinogens into the environment by leather tanneries in a small town in Massachusetts. Additional research revealed that there was a proliferation of leather tanneries around the Philadelphia region in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. (Note: The tannery waste dumping issues and the impact they have on the novel’s Philadelphia setting are strictly fictitious.) A writer friend revealed that tanning leather could be hastened by using dog feces in the process, knowledge passed down from his grandfather who during poorer times had collected neighborhood dog droppings and delivered them to a local tannery; debatably one origin of the phrase “pay dirt.” For a somewhat livelier and colorful aside, I endowed my protagonist’s childhood with a similar pursuit.

More input from my wife, a social worker and my best muse: In mid to late 19th century there weren’t enough U. S. laws to protect children from abuse by their parents. [Alert to readers: graphic image coming.] Child protection groups cite anecdotally that orphanages were built in some urban environments because local sewer systems couldn’t handle the volume of infant bodies being discarded into them by poor families with too many mouths to feed. With too few laws to stop such barbarism it wasn’t uncommon for some of the outraged citizenry to invoke local animal rights and abuse statutes and penalties in attempting to stem this and other child mistreatment when it was discovered.

You’ve spent much of your life living in Philadelphia and Pennsylvania, among many other places. Why did you choose PA for your novel and how did your years of living here influence your novel?
I’m a product of Philadelphia Catholic schools and Penn State University, and I received excellent educations from both. I could say that this fits into the “write what you know” writing method but the story could have had been told in multiple eastern U. S. settings where growth of 19th and 20th century manufacturing had caused urban expansion to encroach unregulated into rural areas. So choosing this environment was frankly a comfortable thing for me, where I felt I could visualize the events better because of an inherent feel for and attachment to my home town. Plus there is one other key relationship the novel shares with the area: the fictitious orphanage that plays so prominent a role in the multiple plotlines is fashioned after St. Vincent’s Home in Tacony, truly a Philadelphia icon. It’s ceased its existence as an orphanage, is now part of a program of Catholic Social Services of the Archdiocese of Philadelphia known as St. Vincent Homes, providing services to Philadelphia’s abandoned, abused and neglected children and their families. Dating back to its life as an orphanage, it’s been providing these services for over 150 years.

How long did it take for you to write your novel?
The novel took three years to complete (I have a very demanding day job) then over a year to interest a publisher in it. Drollerie Press is a little-engine-that-could small press that delivers stories steeped in legend and fairy tale. Inspired by the legend around The Devil’s Bible, Scars was a natural fit for them. Available from Drollerie first as an eBook, the publisher released it as a trade paperback in December 2009. In its electronic format it’s a finalist for a 2010 EPIC Award (formerly known as the “Eppies”) in horror, awarded annually for excellence in electronic publishing.

Who is your favorite character in the book?
Hands down, narrator Wump Hozer is my favorite. Writing him in the first person provided for a strong, in-your-face voice. He’s a man’s man with a nearly debilitating burden, the recent loss of his son, a burden that drives him to confront utility company bureaucrats, tannery management, and Archdiocesan dignitaries. He’s aged gracefully, is sure he can still beat the snot out of men half his age and, if necessary, do the same to demons many centuries his senior. He’s very much in love with his wife of forty years and is quite attached to the nuns who run the local orphanage, and to the orphanage’s residents. He’s closest to one orphan in particular, the ambitious but slow-witted Leo, his gopher for parish custodial duties.

What do you hope people will experience while reading your novel?
I want them to continue to turn the pages. I want to thrill them with characters’ insights and discoveries. I want them to be so drawn into the story that they try to finish it in one sitting. I want them to experience a character’s pain, feel his adrenaline rush, her euphoria; his shock and awe; her surprise at an ‘aha’ or a twist; his and her sentimentality and humanity. I want readers to say, “Whoa. That was good. What else you got?” What they won’t experience: excess squeam. While displaying blood and guts was necessary and fun to do in spots, the novel isn’t terribly horrific in this regard. I’ll add here that no zombies or vampires were harmed in the creation of this work of fiction simply because no zombies or vampires are in it. Not that there’s anything wrong with them. I love zombies. My wife says she’s married to one.

Did you incorporate your personality into your novel? Are there any characters who share your personality?
My personality is surely in there. Hopefully it’s only the more interesting attributes. With Wump it’s his stubbornness and his short-fused responses to hopeless situations, where he tells his infinitely more powerful adversaries to go screw themselves. Not necessarily a smart thing to do but he does it anyway, daring them to make their move. He shows plenty of misplaced hubris but also a ballsey-ness I feel we all aspire to.

Where can readers find you?
My website, cgbauer.net. The novel is available in print and electronically from publisher Drollerie Press and the other usual outlets such as Amazon (AmazonSCARSlink)
and Barnes & Noble (BarnesSCARSlink), or order it through your local independent bookstore (IndieboundSCARSlink). It’s also available as a Kindle eBook at Amazon and in other electronic formats at eBook venues like Fictionwise, Books on Board, etc. My short fiction has appeared in the crime/pulp ezine Thuglit (issue #29) and has been podcasted by Well Told Tales (horror/crime/pulp; WTT #60; 9,000 free audio downloads of my short story “You’re A Moron”). As always, if the writing resonates for a reader, feedback and reviews are welcome—encouraged—in any venue the reader finds my work.

P.S. to PS: Thanks so much to the folks at Philadelphia Stories for giving this Philly boy the chance to chat about his work. Continued success to the magazine, a valued publication highlighting the Philly literary scene!

[img_assist|nid=5090|title=Pig Candy|desc=|link=node|align=right|width=150|height=231]In preparation for Philadelphia Stories’ Push to Publish workshop, keynote speaker and freelance journalist Lise Funderburg spoke with me about her new book, Pig Candy, the ups and downs of writing, and why she wouldn’t be good at writing fiction. Her memoir, Pig Candy, tells the story of Funderburg’s quest to get to know her father through a series of trips down to his hometown in rural Georgia. Her work has been featured in the New York Times, O, The Oprah Magazine, and Time.  Pig Candy was released in paperback this past May by Free Press, an imprint of Simon and Schuster.

What inspired you to write Pig Candy?

As a journalist I make my living getting people to pay me to answer questions I am curious about. And I was curious as to who my father was as a man and as a part of history, American history, apart from being my father — which was how I looked at him for most of my life. I think this is a natural curiosity that arises when you get to a certain age. Usually it is mortality that forces you to wake up and get more perspective. I was getting older and my father got sick from something that he later recovered from, but I realized my father was not going to live forever. And so I felt a kind of urgency to fill in the gaps. I realized there was so much I didn’t know about my dad because of the kind of man he was. So I thought under the guise of being a journalist I could get him to open up and talk about himself.  Since I am a freelance journalist– and especially because to him, and probably to a lot of other people, the word freelance means unemployed   I think he thought whatever he could do to help me out he would do, so he agreed to let me interview him.

You speak of a ‘decoding ring’ that you felt you needed when you were in your father’s hometown. Did you use any research or interviews to aid you in learning the subtleties of your father’s southern small town?

Research was a big part of it, I was fortunate that there were still a lot of people to talk with who knew him, the town he was from and the era. I did a lot in-depth reporting; I would talk to stone fruit peach experts at the agricultural extensions of various universities, I traveled to Michigan to look in the library archives there to find out more about the job he had waiting tables on cruise ships that went across the Great Lakes, now an extinct industry. I read books, found experts in different fields that spoke to his past and really, just being in the place he was from was a kind of in-depth reporting, to eat the food, which was a big part of the book, and to be in that rural landscape, was really a big part of my research.

How long did it take you to write Pig Candy?

Seven years. It took me a while to figure out the way I wanted to do this book. It wasn’t intended to be a relationship story about me and my dad; it was trying to put a person into context, which is a big task to take on. I had to find the right narrative stance, to be both honestly his daughter and the reporter I wanted to be. In the beginning I was writing a history of his jobs. I came back from the trip to Michigan and I wrote a chapter about his work on night boats. A colleague of mine read it and he said, “You know, this reads like you’re showing us you’ve done your homework.” I winced at that but I thought he was right. In a way, what set me in the right direction, sadly, was that my father became ill again and this time it was a terminal diagnosis of prostate cancer. That made it easier to write the book the way I wanted to write it. It took away the sense of obligation and I just wrote what I cared about, and it ended up being the book that I wanted in the first place.

Pig Candy is very relatable in the sense that every person has to ‘relearn’ who their parents are. How was your relationship with your father affected by your writing this memoir?

You do relearn who your parents are, when you get to that point of maturity and capacity and are able to look at them in their full dimension and not just as the child who needs them. That never goes away, and I don’t think it should ever go away, that you need your parents. But for me, my sense of my father was greatly enriched by doing this research. And to learn about the times and place he was from explained him in a way that was very satisfying, enlightening and comforting.

What was your favorite scene in Pig Candy?

 My favorite parts of the book are the parts that are always more than one thing. They might be, for example, the scene where I take my father to his doctor appointment and I let him drive, even though he had a stroke and was probably about to lose his license. The scene is funny and sad and informative. It was a bittersweet experience, the last couple of years of his life. There would be hilarity, grief, pride and grace all bundled together and they often came at points of great challenge. The scene in the car was one of them, and when we busted him out of hospice care to drive him down to Georgia one last time is one as well. One part that’s most moving to me is when I have to tell him his prognosis: a lot depends on him acknowledging something that he didn’t really want to acknowledge and I have to make choices about whether it’s my right to tell him this. That scene means a lot to me.

As the keynote speaker for Push to Publish, you will be sharing your advice and experience with aspiring writers. What was the best piece of advice you received when you first started writing?

One of my professors really impressed upon me the need to step away from your work as you craft it, whether that means putting in a drawer overnight, or walking away for twenty minutes.  Stepping away can give you perspective on your work and aid you in the revision process. That piece of advice has sustained me for a long time and I’m constantly amazed at how going away and coming back will make clear what was so unclear before.

Another piece of advice is when you’re ready to go out into the world and publish,  you have to follow the ‘lotto motto’: you have to be in it to win it. Instead of ‘all it takes is a dollar and a dream’, you could say ‘all it takes is a stamp and a dream.’ For many people, it’s like there is this giant wall between being published and not, and it’s frightening to submit things but you just have to make yourself do it. You have to fake confidence until you have confidence, you just have to. So I think you have to be in it to win it- you have to put yourself out there. There’s so much rejection built into this profession and you have to find a way to protect your ego and sometimes that means having more than ball in the air, sending it out to more than one place. I think there are instances when it isn’t appropriate to send out multiple submissions, but for most of us, we should have the high class problem of having the New Yorker and The Atlantic both wanting to run our piece and being in the embarrassing position of having to tell them they selected the same work. It’s good to be pursuing several avenues at once, so when one rejection letter comes in it’s not that bad.

Have you ever considered delving into fiction writing?

I’m afraid I wouldn’t be very good at it, in fact I took a workshop a couple years ago for fun and wrote a short story and I have to say it is the most plotless, flat piece of writing. Though it’s well written, it just doesn’t have momentum. For me, nonfiction offers up a lot of the satisfactions that fiction does: narrative nonfiction challenges you to shape a plot, develop characters, and to dig into the writers toolbox that is the same toolbox that fiction writers use. Setting scenes, tensions, pacing– all those things are essential in my work, and they are the defining aspects of fiction as well. I like the challenge of something that is real and shaping it into something that has grace and elegance. I’m fascinated by the real world and the many things happening around me .  Writing helps me to make sense of them and answer those questions and curiosities that I have.

[img_assist|nid=4680|title=Monkey See by Walt Maguire|desc=|link=url|url=http://www.encpress.com/MS.html|align=right|width=150|height=235]What if apes were living side-by-side the human species, wearing Urban Outfitters, taking public transportation and even talking? What would they talk about? That’s the question author Walt Maguire seeks to answer in his new novel Monkey See (ENC Press, Summer 2009). Laced with wit and satire, Monkey See follows Ed, a Bonobo ape, as he struggles to find his place in society. Complete with a love story, ethical uncertainty and lessons in ape etiquette, Monkey See is sure to leave you seeing the world from a different perspective.

Tell me about your new novel, Monkey See.

It’s set in a time when not only have scientists cracked the code for giving animals intelligence, but it’s becoming a little too commonplace. Ed, a young ape, is trying to find his way through the new social order, stuck halfway between American pop life and what the other apes want – finding a job; getting an apartment; going to parties; planning the overthrow of humans, or not. I’ve described it as Planet of the Apes from the ape’s point of view, but it’s more a coming of age story…with bananas and robot tanks.

What research did you do when writing your book?

Quite a lot – I was already interested in Jane Goodall’s work, and I knew about the Gorilla Foundation’s work with sign language, though like most people I’d never really studied their research. Apes have been studied, trained, and written about since at least the days of the Greeks.

What inspired you to include advice on “throwing inter-species dinner parties, parenting do’s and don’ts, conducting your own fiendish experiments, taunting caged monsters?” It must have been great fun to write such advice.

Fun? It’s very serious stuff. Okay, maybe not. I originally just planned to do a short etiquette book, but I soon found myself filling in a plot. Also, I discovered I don’t know anything about etiquette. But there were a lot of “rules” spread out through the movies, things that had never really been catalogued in one place. I had fun fitting them together coherently.

What was the most challenging part of writing your book?

I was so wrapped up in the story it took me a while to realize that a story about talking animals could be misinterpreted as a metaphor. I wanted to be careful that I wasn’t unintentionally making an anti-immigration argument, for instance.  I’m talking about actual talking animals. The point I was trying to make is that monster stories are moving from being a metaphor for discussing social issues to being an actual, possible situation. Something I hadn’t planned for the book is a running commentary on parenthood – the scientist who’s “enhancing” these creatures is, when you get down to it, a bad parent. He brings them into the world and then abandons them emotionally, not to say twists them to his own ambitions.

What is your favorite scene in Monkey See?

There’s a scene where Ed is worried about Gigi and tries to get help from a militant chimpanzee named Chekchek. The chimp hates Ed for being so easygoing, but he thinks Ed has secret information Chekchek needs for his revolt. The more they talk the more Ed drives him crazy. It’s the closest I’ve gotten to writing a Three Stooges routine.

“They remembered what we had made them think unimportant. We wanted them to type, we wanted them to speak, and we did not care about trees to their way of thinking. Cogitomni watched the great muscled back disappear into a pine and thought We cannot explain ourselves to them either.” This is a central idea to your book. Do you have any underlying social commentary in this passage?

One of the things I ran across in my research was a comment on the nature of language, which said, basically, that even if animals learned English, their frame of reference would be completely different. It reminded me of all the remarks over the years about “people not like us” – it ties back to the old idea that prejudice is largely based on assuming the other guy is somehow sub-human and unworthy of fair play.  The human race is very creative at making excuses.

What do you hope readers think about after reading your book?

Lunch, first. Buying more copies of  Monkey See as presents, second.  And caring a little more about what happens to those who depend on them, which I would count as third unless you plan to invite someone to lunch or buy them a copy of the book, in which case “caring” immediately leapfrogs to first on the list, and well done.