I was suprised, a day or two ago, to discover that there is already a review of my forthcoming novella, Shrike, online. After the initial surprise, my first reaction was to think about including a link to it in a blog entry. Then I decided not to. The reasons for this were probably two-fold. First of all, I don't really want to post a link to every single thing about me that ever appears on the Net. Not that it would be especially time-consuming to do so. On the contrary, perhaps it would serve to show up the paucity of information on me, and the paucity of interest in me. I don't mean, in me as a person, of course. There's no reason on Earth why anyone should be interested in me as a person. I merely mean interest in me as a literary genius.
Secondly, well, I'm afraid that if reviewers become conscious of me watching them then they will become self-conscious about me generally, not just as reviewers, but also as readers, and I suppose it's the last part that I really care about. I wouldn't want to get in the way of their reading experience by my personal (if rather ethereal) presence as a person. And a reading experience, after all, is not limited to the time spent with the book open in front of you.
As you see, I've changed my mind, and posted the link, and I don't really know why. Or not entirely. In part, however, it is because this rather surprising review fascinates me with the glimpse it gives me of the fact that my work does exist for other lives out there – to me, somewhat fugitive and phantom lives – in the most unexpected of times and places (and usually undisclosed ways). Over the years I find that I have been read not only in a number of countries in the Anglosphere, but also in those countries outside this zone, whose inhabitants are less daunted in their reading by texts in foreign languages, countries such as Mexico, France, Denmark, Romania, Belgium, and, for all I know, Uzbekistan.
For the sake of such readers, I sometimes consider giving up my blog entirely. It seems like it can really only be an unnecessary embarrassment. Occasionally people even write to me who have read my work. Heaven only knows what they must think when I write back. It must be even worse than reading my blog.
“For the sake of such readers, I sometimes consider giving up my blog entirely. It seems like it can really only be an unnecessary embarrassment. Occasionally people even write to me who have read my work. Heaven only knows what they must think when I write back. It must be even worse than reading my blog.”That made me laugh! I was so seriously wrapped into your blog entry and then you put a plug of chuckles at the end of it. Nice! I must say, I have never heard of you or your writings, but I am proud to be amongst such a literary as yourself. Refreshing…
Thank you.I must say, I have never heard of you or your writings…No, I think you’d really hve to have gone quite far off the beaten path to have heard of me, so there’s no need to worry about that.It occurs to me that I haven’t really set this blog up in such a way that it advertises the fact I’m a writer (apart from the writer of this blog, I mean). I have a MySpace page that is set up more in that fashion, but these days the ‘about me’ part of that page tends to make me cringe. I keep thinking of changing it or deleting it, but so far can’t be bothered.I don’t want to portray myself as excessively modest, because, well, it probably depends on mood and situation, but on this blog, after someone had suggested I use a picture of myself in my profile picture, and I had done so for a while, I began to feel strange about having my face staring out at me whenever I came to this page, and I changed the picture back to the original one I had been using, of Nagai Kafu walking down an alley away from his favourite haunt, Arizona Kitchen. I don’t know what that’s all about really (me changing my picture back, I mean). I suppose any public act of writing involves an attempt to seize the spotlight, but I feel at least a little ambivalent about that.
I liked this review, by the way. I feel I should be, but I’m not really one of these writers who relishes bad reviews out of a sense of pride or irony or something.That this review was positive shows to me that people can enjoy what I write. Not only that, someone did. Someone got it. I think I like the opening of the review best, where he talks about things between the lines that are suggested in English translations of Japanese literature.
Charles Tan writes:
Glad to hear you liked my review!Looking forward to more of your writing.
Steve writes:
I’ve read something of yours – a short story in an anthology. The short story was called “Asking for it.” You remember that one? I thought it was a great story. That’s actually how I found this blog. After I read your story I went searching for you.Do not take this blog down! I love reading what you have to say about things!I’ll definitely have to check out this Novella of yours.
Looking forward to more of your writing.Thank you. There’s more in the wings. Always hard to say exactly when it will see the light, but there’s plenty of it there.Really, what’s been published is just the tip of a very large and alarming ice-berg. I’m hoping that at some point demand will begin to catch up with my supply.The short story was called “Asking for it.” You remember that one? Yes, I do remember it. It actually got an honorable mention in something or other, and I was dismissive about this to the messenger, who, it seemed, thought that I was shooting him or those from whom the message was conveyed, when I wasn’t at all, really. I was just trying not to let it go to my head.It’s a minefield.But the anthology, of course, was Chimeraworld II. That is, in fact, quite interesting to me, and I’m not sure I can say exactly why, except that I tend to think of that story as quite obscure, even by my standards.Please do check out the novella. I’m told it’s quite good. I honestly can’t be objective about this one (not that I suppose I can about any of them), but there’s a very nice introduction from Lisa Tuttle that inspires me with confidence in myself.