This first appeared in Lit Hub’s Craft of Writing newsletter—sign up here. I love art that seems like it came from outer space, that seems unrelated to anything else in the Zeitgeist, that makes me wonder how the artist ever came up with it and put it together. When I am confronted by a work like this—and I love it if it feels like a confrontation—I sometimes think of the French otolaryngologist Dr. Alfred Tomaitis and his theory that the voice can’t produce what the ear can’t hear. Tomatis’s idea illustrates how difficult it is for any artist to create something new.
As a human maker, I sometimes feel as if I am locked in a closed system, only capable of making work that exists within the range of what I’ve already been exposed to. As a writer, I am always trying to find what I think of as dead zones—places where I unknowingly hold unexamined ideas. Locating these isn’t easy, but one thing I have found helpful is studying another medium. For me, this has been theater. At first I went to the theater simply because I’m a fan.
But now I consider regular theatergoing an important part of my writing practice. For one thing, it’s convenient. While it may take me days or weeks to finish a book, I can sit down in my theater seat and witness someone else’s fully realized ideas about plot, character, dialogue, setting, etc., in under three hours. It helps that I like the structure of theatergoing—I like sitting in the dark, in a room full of humans watching other humans.
If I’m not engaged with what is happening onstage, I even like watching the audience. As the adage goes, an audience does not lie. It can be useful, as a maker of narrative, to observe real-time reactions to a story as it unfolds.
What helps my theater study most, though, is just staying open and curious. I’m not trying to become a theater expert; I want to remain a student. Merely recognizing that this is my goal helps me bring this same attitude back to my reading, where I am more apt to be cranky and impatient.
I believe that my theatergoing also helps me ask myself more interesting questions. Is a novel a performance? (I think so). What kind? (I haven’t figured that out yet).
Extract — continue reading at the source.
