The Tools and Process of Writer Renée Moffett Thompson

Renée Thompson’s stories have appeared in Narrative Magazine, Literal Latte, Arcadia, Animal: A Beast of a Literary Magazine, 10,000 Tons of Black Ink (where her story “Twelve Pencils” was named “Best Of,” Vol. II, Spring 2012), and Chiron Review. She has stories forthcoming from Crossborder and Chiron Review, and has placed as a finalist in competitions sponsored by Narrative, Literal Latte, Glimmer Train, and Writer’s Digest. She is the author of two novels, THE PLUME HUNTER (Torrey House Press, 2011) and THE BRIDGE AT VALENTINE (Tres Picos Press, 2010), which Larry McMurtry called “…very original and very appealing,” and which was recently selected as the 2014 community book for Woodland Reads. She lives in Northern California.

Renée, thanks for talking with us. For starters, can you describe your tools — the things you like to use when you write, and what you have to have in place. Music? Coffee? What makes you feel comfortable when you begin writing?

Renée Thompson

 Lucy, first, thank you so much for inviting me to chat with you on your blog — I’m honored to visit!

As for tools, I’m sort of promiscuous. I love to write in longhand, using a pencil — a Blackwing 602 (so much so, I wrote a story featuring a protagonist who can’t even think using a pen), but I write on my laptop too. It depends very much on my mood, and my joints, frankly. If I wake up feeling a little stiff, I usually print the prior day’s work, then sit at the kitchen table and edit in pencil while my bones warm up. When I’m working on a novel, I start at 9 a.m., treating my work as a job, coffee at hand and no sound whatsoever. (Even as a kid, I couldn’t work on homework with my radio on; I needed silence then, and still do.)

I like to work near a window. I’m a very slow writer, and tend to think a lot; I’ll gaze into the yard, watch the northern flickers, acorn woodpeckers, and cedar waxwings skim the trees as I dissect a problem. Walking helps too. Almost always, I can resolve a plot or character issue while walking a mile or two.

I agree: nothing better than a nice long walk. What about your process? Do you use index cards for plotting or scribble notes all over a single sheet of paper? Do you find yourself talking in all parts of a scene as you're turning it over in your mind?

Often, my short stories and novels are inspired by photographs, and when that happens, I’m able to identify my protagonist right away — usually the setting too. Plot, though, is something else. With my first two novels, I knew what the ending was before I started, but this time I don’t know how my story will end. I have a map — an outline — but no “X marks the spot,” so this newest endeavor is a leap of faith, and it’s a little scary.

I’ve never been an index-card scribbler, although I do have an idea file, where I’ve stashed appealing names, photos, snippets of dialogue I’ve overheard, and descriptions of landscapes. You might appreciate this one, written on a paper napkin in red ink, dated 3/16/01: Duluth, GA:

·  Redbuds just coming out

·  Daffs about done; tulips emerging

·  Warm, breezy, few clouds in sky

·  Magnolias done; leaves budding

·  (And then at lunch, in a nearby pizza joint): Two teenaged boys playing chess at table. Short hair, white tee-shirts. One boy wears a metal bead necklace. Girls sit next to them – boys totally ignore

·  Little girl with red-juice mustache

I haven’t yet used these details, but I will someday. And I’ll use the photo of Jeff Bridges, too, as he appeared in True Grit. He’ll make an A+ character. 

Renée, best of luck with all your writing projects, and thanks for giving us some of your time.

Boko Haram and the Writing of Cheerful Books

Last Friday I started researching Lagos, Nigeria, for my next book project and was scrolling through Pinterest when I read about Boko Haram's attack on the Christian village of Attagara. One of the Pinterest images showed a six-year-old boy beheaded by Boko Haram in that attack. The story is that a villager snatched the boy up in order to save him, but a terrorist tore them apart, killed the villager, and decapitated the child. The image left me stunned. I couldn't move, became barely aware of my own breathing, then ran to the bathroom and was physically ill. 

For years my friends sometimes posed a question I've shrugged off.

"Why do you write these dark subjects?"
If you know your history, you know that man's inhumanity to man has been a staple of human nature. 

What fascinates me are the extraordinary stories within the evil — an office worker who spends months giving practical help to a Jewish family hiding from the Nazis (Miep Gies) ... the quiet, undogged Kansas detective who works for years trying to nab the BTK killer (Det. Ken Landwehr) ... a couple Chinese camera shop guys in Japanese-occupied Nanjing, who duplicate film footage of atrocities and try to smuggle it out in milk canisters ... the Nigerian villager who randomly snatches up a confused child to save him from murderous thugs.

Kids who feel safe invent their own monsters to fear — the boogeyman in the closet or under the bed — thus the boom times of the decorative night-light industry. As a culture, we Americans are no different: we invent our bad monsters and then convince ourselves everything's AOK, all within 40 minutes of limited commercial interruptions.

The problem with complacency

But the world is filled with real-life monsters. Why do we not want to see them?

San Pedro Sula (Honduras) is the murder capital of the world, averaging three murders daily. Boko Haram is gaining more and more territorial control in Nigeria, thanks to a corrupt government lacking any vision beyond self-service. Out of 187 nations, Honduras and Nigeria ranked low for human development (129 and 153 respectively). Among other things, this means education is thwarted, access to clean water is a daily struggle — and life is cheap. You throw groups like the MXIII or Boko Haram on top of this mix, and suddenly your garden-variety American serial killer looks like a jerk with a serious attitude problem.

We who live in the affluent, comfortable west have afforded ourselves a high degree of complacency. And complacency kills off empathy and curiosity. It's utter hypocrisy for us to pooh-pooh them when western banks cheerfully take the deposits of those profiteering from the "civil psychosis" occurring in these countries.

Just what is so interesting about peering into the mind of a ruthless terrorist? 
I'd rather imagine the inner workings of that villager who forsakes his own safety to help a lost and panicked child. The former has nothing new to tell us about what it means to be human. 

The latter — everything.

Pictured above: Traffic jams like this occur all the time in Lagos, Nigeria. By 2015, Lagos is predicted to become the world's fifth most populous urban center, topping 23 million inhabitants. Despite the civic weaknesses I've described, Nigerians are a diverse and resilient people composed of 300 ethnic groups, and numerous Nigerians have gifted the world with their talents: writers Wole Soyinka, Ben Okri, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and Chinua Achebe; playwright Biyi Thomas; musicians Sade, Seal, Fela Kuti, and King Sunny Ade; and athletes Hakeem Olajuwon and Nwankwo Kanu. This does not include educated professionals and scholars who now serve on American school faculties, and in public & private sector firms.