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MDBell.com
Matt Bell is the author of How They Were Found, as well as three chapbooks, Wolf Parts (Keyhole Press), The Collectors (Caketrain Press), and How the Broken Lead the Blind (Willows Wept Press). His fiction has appeared in Conjunctions, Hayden's Ferry Review, Willow Springs, Unsaid, and American Short Fiction, and has been selected for inclusion in anthologies such as Best American Mystery Stories 2010 and Best American Fantasy 2. His book reviews and critical essays have appeared in The Los Angeles Times, American Book Review, and The Quarterly Conversation. He is also the editor of The Collagist and of Dzanc's Best of the Web anthology series. He lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan, with his wife Jessica.
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Interview
with Matt Bell (2010)
The
Short Review:
How long did it take you to write all the stories in your collection?
Matt Bell: The earliest story in
How They Were Found was written in 2006, or maybe even a
little earlier. Every other story was written a couple years later,
with all of their first drafts written in a nine or ten month period
in the second half of 2008. Then there was another year or so of
rewriting and refining as they appeared in magazines, and as the book
moved through the publishing process.
TSR:
Did you
have a collection in mind when you were writing them?
MB: No, I didn’t, and
that's probably to the book's benefit: I wasn't looking for how my
stories might be put together until after they were written, so I
wasn't trying to force certain themes or styles to come out in any
individual work. Later, after I had finished assembling the
collection, I was much more aware of what it took to make a group of
stories cohere into a book, and I could feel myself over-determining
some of those elements as I was starting new stories. I've thankfully
gotten back to where I'm not looking for those links as I write, but
it definitely took a while for that regression to happen.
TSR:
How did
you choose which stories to include and in what order?
MB: I'd published fifty or so stories and shorts before I even started
thinking about putting together a book, or at least seriously enough to
get it done. I ended up with two main criteria that a story had to meet
to make it into the manuscript: The first was that the story had to be
something that was unique to me, that showed off something that I could
do that didn't seem derived in style, that didn't seem insincere or
borrowed in its worldview. I wanted stories that came from me, as much
as possible, and I think that the stories in this book do that more
than the other stories I'd previously written. My influences aren't
invisible here—certainly not—but hopefully I'm taking what I learned
from those other writers and using it to create stories that are all
mine.
The second criteria was
that the stories in the book needed to accrue to something greater: I
wanted a book of stories that read like a whole, even though the
stories might have a mix of styles and subjects. And so some stories
that I liked got left out because they didn't fit with the rest, and
so on.
The ordering of the book is really related to this last
point: I wanted an order that used the stories to build something
greater. I think there are all these stock ideas that get trotted out
about ordering books, like "put your best story first and your
second best story second," and so on. I never got that: Why
would you publish a book with any weak stories in it? And if you knew
someone had organized a book in that way, wouldn’t you just read
the first story and then put the book aside, knowing there wasn’t
anything better in it? Instead, the stories should all be strong, and
stronger for the order they're in. So I spent a lot of time trying to
find an order in which some overarching movement could be made, and
perhaps a number of smaller movements within that larger one, purely
by how the stories were placed. The last week I worked on the book
before submitting it, I read it beginning to end every single day, so
that I could hold the whole thing in my head, at least for a few
minutes, and also so I could feel the total effect of the book a
couple times, to be sure of it.
And then—of course—I reordered it again after
Keyhole accepted it. Because I can never, ever stop adjusting anything.
TSR:
What
does the word "story"
mean to you?
MB:
A year ago, I probably would have had a clear and confident-sounding
answer for this question, which would probably be more fun to read, or
at least less frustrating. Now I would say that I try not to think
about this sort of question very much. Why predetermine the
possibilities and limitations of the form by marking its edges? I want
to stay ambitious, stay open to what might come from working well upon
the page, and it seems like defining these terms too well can only make
that harder to do.
TSR:
Do you have a reader in mind when you write?
MB:
Not so much during the
initial stages of writing—at that point I’m interested in moving
myself, in creating new feelings and thoughts internally, or
effecting some kind of change upon myself through the acting of
writing. Later, when I’m rewriting and revising, I’m trying to
re-create that effect in the reader, using whatever tools are
available. So by that point, I’m very concerned with how readers
will react to the particulars of a fiction, to the acoustics and word
choices and details of the plot and so on.
As to whether there’s
a specific reader in mind, I don’t think so. I might wonder from
time to time how certain writer friends might react, or how my wife
or my parents or editors might. But that’s not really part of the
writing process, just the kind of speculation I might make about
getting a new haircut or buying a new sweater. It’s a nervousness
or excitement somewhat apart from the thing itself.
TSR: Is
there
anything you'd like to ask someone who has read your collection, anything at all?
MB:
I hope people enjoy
reading the book, that they feel engaged and interested by both its
surface and what’s waiting beneath, but I’d hopefully never ask
them if that were the case, no matter how much I might want to hear
the truth of it. The best reading experiences can’t be made sense
of in that way, or at least not easily, at least not without breaking
the magic of it. And what could be worse than managing, against all
odds, to conjure something up from the blankness of the page, only to
dispel it by asking too many questions?
TSR: How does
it feel knowing that people are buying your book?
MB:
I’m very appreciative
anytime someone reads my fiction, considering all the other things
they could be doing—and spending money on—instead. To be honest,
it doesn’t matter much to me whether or not they buy it or read it
somewhere else, borrowing a copy or getting it from the library or
however they might find it. In any case, a lot of my book was
published online as previews of the print magazines the stories
originally appeared in, or were published by online magazines in the
first place.
Keyhole
has also agreed to put the book online at www.howtheywerefound.com,
one piece at a time over the next few months, so that eventually
anyone who wants to read it can. My publisher may not exactly
agree—he’ll probably yell at me for saying this—but for myself
I’d rather have readers than consumers, and hopefully this will get
the book to more people than we otherwise might.
TSR:
What are you working on now?
MB:
I recently finished an
early draft of a novel, and will be returning to that very soon. In
the meantime, I’m rewriting a couple shorter fictions, as well as
working on a side project I’m supposed to be wrapping up. I try to
keep myself pretty busy: There’s always something new to be working
on, always something in need of revision or rethinking.
TSR:
What are
the three most recent short story collections you've read?
MB:
The last three collections I read were Dawn Raffel’s Further Adventures in the Restless Universe, Tina May Hall’s The Physics of Imaginary Objects, and Amelia Gray’s Museum of the Weird.
They kind of sound like they go together, don’t they? In any case,
these are three of the very best short story collections published
recently, and I’d recommend them to just about anyone. All three are
books whos stories I keep returning to, or turning over in my head, in
part because each of these writers can do things no one else can.
Interview with Matt Bell (2009)
The
Short Review:
How long did it take you to write all the stories in your collection?
Matt Bell: The earliest stories in How the Broken Lead the Blind
were written in 2006, and the latest written at the very end of 2008.
Curiously, none of them were written in 2007, so there is a sort of gap
in between the early pieces (the title story, The Present, Player Piano) and the late ones (Ten Scenes from a Movie Called Mercy, Her Ennead.) I don’t know how visible that is in the actual collection, but I hope they hang together well as a small body of work.
TSR: Did you
have a collection in mind when you were writing them?
MB: I
definitely didn’t have a collection in mind when I was writing them—I
know some people work that way, but I don’t think I have up to now, or
that I necessarily could if I wanted to. I don’t really have “ideas,”
and hardly ever know what a story is going to be before I start.
Sometimes I’ve hit the third or fourth draft before I’ve really got a
handle on what it’s going to be when I’m done, so trying to write
stories that purposely fit together would be nearly impossible for me.
TSR: How did
you choose which stories to include and in what order?
MB: I
was actually surprised when I started trying to organize the chapbook
manuscript that I had as many short-shorts that went together as I did.
I was trying to select ten out of the twenty or thirty I had published
or felt were publishable, and I mostly wanted to find stories that
resonated with each other in close proximity, and that had some
crossover thematically without repeating each other exactly. I don’t
know how much more I want to say about what those thematic grounds
might be, but not because I want to be evasive—From other people’s
reactions, I think I’ve realized that here are multiple valid ways to
read or interact with some of these stories, and I’d rather not put my
own explicit reading on the book as a whole.
TSR: What
does the word "story"
mean to you?
MB: For
me, stories are always about entertaining people first, with
"entertainment" being very broadly defined—I think there’s just as much
joy in structure and form or well-crafted wordplay as there is in a
finely crafted plot or a good joke or a tear-jerker ending. I want
stories to be fun and welcoming, and only once I get readers sucked
into the story itself do I feel I can try and work on all those other
loftier goals we all have as writers. But entertainment first, at least
as a goal.
TSR:
Do you
have a "reader" in mind when you write stories?
MB:
I don’t think so—Maybe much later, when I’m revising, but certainly not
on first drafts. First drafts are all about telling myself stories I
like, and about surprising myself as much as possible. When I can’t
surprise myself, the story tends to fall apart before I can get it
finished, at least in part because if I can’t keep myself surprised and
engaged, then I don’t really expect other people to be.
TSR: Is there
anything you'd like to ask someone who has read your collection,
anything at all?
MB:
I’m always curious to hear what people enjoyed or didn’t enjoy, but
that’s probably as much ego as anything else, right? We like to talk
about ourselves, even when we pretend we don’t. In all honesty though,
I’d be just as happy if people who read the book just e-mailed or
Facebooked or whatever and introduced themselves, and told me who they
are, about their own work or other things they were reading—I’m much
more interested in hearing about other people’s work, and being led to
new stories and writers and friends that I haven’t found on my own yet.
TSR: How does it feel knowing that people are buying your book?
MB:
It’s both amazing and humbling, and I’m very grateful to everyone who
bought this book—It was a limited edition chapbook, and it sold out in
pre-orders, which was really surprising. I’m so thankful to every
single reader for taking the chance on the book, and for then being
such kind and gracious readers of it. It’s more than I deserve.
TSR: What are
you working on now?
MB:
I just "finished" a full-length story collection and am starting the
next draft of my novel, which should keep me busy for a while.
TSR: What are
the three most recent short story collections you've read?
MB: The last three story collections I read were In the Devil’s Territory by Kyle Minor, Drift and Swerve by Samuel Ligon, and Airships by Barry Hannah. All three are great books, and I’d highly recommend any one of them.
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