Can you talk a little about the process of writing A Scarecrow's Bible? How long did it take? What was your favorite part of writing it? Your least favorite?
MH: This book, like everything I write started off with an image. I was about nineteen; I was staying at my sister's house trailer in Louisiana. And I remember being in one of the tiny bedrooms and the sun was coming in and I thought about what if I stayed there in that town and grew old. And then I thought of an older man, in that somewhat sun-filled room packed with boxes. Years later, when I was in Abigail Thomas's class at The New School I just started writing from that image of that broken, southern man who lived in a house trailer like that one.
Once I had the beginning, I cranked it out in two months. I tend to write like that: nothing for a while, you know, I'll be all dreamy and contemplative. Then I'll sit down and start writing.
I think my favorite part of writing this book was tinkering around with the voice and point-of-view in the first few chapters, getting the voice right, hearing the way it sounded and how it started to come alive. I went through a period when I was struggling trying to sell the book and I was foolish enough to listen to people who suggested that I change it from second person to third or first person. I did that and it just didn't work.
Do you believe in outlines? How much of your story did you know before you started? What was the revision process like?
MH: I want to believe in outlines. I wish they worked for me. Every time I outline something and try to write from that, the writing falls apart. The structure is there, but for some reason my characters and writing style suffer from it. Even if I go into an outlined project thinking I can change things and veer from the outline, I feel boxed in. I wish I was less of a chaotic thinker and less of a chaotic writer. But I'm not. I can't feel at all caged in when I write. Outlines do that to me. They cage me.
All I knew of the story before I began was that there was this frail man who had lost everything and was forced to start living life for the first time since his youth. It was just that image of a faded room and a fading man in the south on a Sunday evening.
Scarecrow went through many workshops, star mentors, and agents, so it was revised over and over again. Because it such a language-driven piece, there was a lot of line-by-line tinkering. All rules of grammar and proper sentence structure are broken with consistency throughout. So when editing, it was a notion of if something sounded right as much as if it was written correctly.
The obvious question: why the second person point of view? What kind of reactions did you get to your POV choice in workshops/writing groups? Did you begin with the second person or start with something else?
MH: I have been asked the question about the second person point of view. My whole thing is, Why not second person point of view? I had no idea that it was a big deal. Some people were just like, "Oh, it's in second person, I can't publish this." Or "you can't get published if you keep this in second-person." I know it can be challenging, just because we aren't used to reading in second person. But now, some of those very same publishing types have come around. Also, it's great to hear from readers: so many of them write to me and say how it took them a few pages to get used to the style, but once they did they were hooked. I love that. It means it forced them away from what they usually read, out of their comfort zone, and took them to another place.
When I write, I hear the sound of the story, of the characters, the world that I'm creating. The point of view, the style, the writing chooses me, I don't choose it.
The ending of your novel, about the last 1/5, is my favorite part. The writing is gorgeous, the pacing perfect, and the events fall into place plot-wise, without seeming forced or too tied-up. Do you have any advice for writers out there who are struggling with an ending?
MH: Oh, well plot bores me to think about when I am writing. I mean, a plot will always develop if you are an honest storyteller. I think that if you are telling the truth in what you write, I mean really telling the truth of your characters and telling their story honestly, everything else falls into place, including dialogue, character development and yes, even plot. Anytime it's not working, I have to sit back and ask myself, what would really, truly happen here? Not what should happen to advance the story, but what has happened in the real world in situations like this and what would happen to these characters in the world of this book. Anytime anything is falling short, it's because me, the author, has gotten in the way of the world I am creating or re-creating. It's because I am holding back something. I am censoring something that the characters want to think or say or do or think. And that just bogs it all down and nothing, including plot can develop from that.
I think that the portion of the book you are referring to may work because it's also when the rhythm of the language, the stylistic implications of the text, and the fate of the destructive and self-destructive nature of the characters swells and blows up. It's just a total bloody mess, but one that is coming on throughout the book and then it's like, oh, now it's all coming together.
I sometimes find that if the ending isn't working, it's because maybe I've hit some wrong notes earlier in the book and sometimes I have to go back and find and fix those in order for the ending to feel like a proper, poetic, dramatic ending.
You're also a writing teacher. Do you find that teaching writing helps with your own work, and if so, how?
MH: I founded a writing center at a small, two-year college in downtown Brooklyn. I work with a lot of students who struggle with social issues like homelessness and addiction, and many have been in prison. So I get them to turn all of that dramatic stuff into dramatic stuff on the page. And they sometimes amaze me. I had a student last week who hadn't turned in any work, write on the final exam (even though he knew that it was too late to pass the class) how the journal I made him keep completely changed his life. He may have dropped out if it weren't for him realizing something about himself through his writing. That sort of stuff is very rewarding.
Also, sometimes when I'm overwhelmed, I'll have these moments where I'll have some music playing in the Writing Center, one student will be reading a novel they've just discovered, another one will be researching a piece of writing, another will be drafting an essay and it's like, wow, this is very cool. And I'll think, this environment, this room, at this moment is all about writing.
But like all writers, I could use a bit more time to write. More dream time, more meditative time. But I love teaching, and even if someday I don't need to teach, I will still do it. I can't just have completely open days to write. That would kill my spirit and my sense of being connected to world in a real way. My working-class background is something I am proud of. It's at the core of my identity. I like to go to work every day.
While you were writing did you read novels like yours, intentionally stay away from them, or not really think about it? What are you reading right now?
MH: I read a lot of poetry. I read a lot of Carole Maso and Graham Greene when I wrote Scarecrow. I find it hard to read fiction when I am writing fiction. I love biographies.
Right now, I am reading a collection of Paris Review writer interviews and some books that New Directions has just put out by the Chilean writer Roberto Bolano. Oh, and I'm reading lots of Ned Rorem's journals and diaries.
Language can be such torturous work and also intensely pleasurable. As a writer, it's so easy to love it and hate it and love it again. But it's a relationship that sometimes makes sense and sometimes turns into something beautiful, and something that feels just right.
