Description: Andersen goes into a room, and waits for the alchemy to happen.

Transcript:

Inspires me.  I would say any time I come across – either in person or in reading about – you know, an act of . . . of courage.  Not an unusual or necessarily physical courage – sometimes that – but moral courage, intellectual courage.  That . . . those always inspire me.  And it doesn’t need to be as dramatic as a journalist in Zimbabwe who, at the risk of his life and limb – or her life and limb – tells the truth; but that’s an example.  But it can be smaller and more banal than that.  But those . . . those . . . those things are what inspires me.  I mean I am . . . I . . . I will see a work of art.  I mentioned Bill Viola.  Some of Bill Viola’s video work, I wouldn’t say inspires me, but I am left awestruck and full of sort of a . . . a . . . questions about existence and perception and all kinds of things as a result of experiencing various works of art.  The same is true of fiction, films, all kinds of things.  But . . . and so I am often amazed and inspired by the . . . the . . . the skill and luck of those creators; but in terms of how I _______ inspired, it is really the . . . the . . . you know.  I would say the most common way in which I feel inspired and I try to remind myself to do the right thing is when people behave courageously.

My creative process . . . depending . . . it depends on what I’m doing.  To the degree my life now is divided among working alone in a room, essentially, writing fiction or writing essays, it’s a matter of . . . of doing whatever research is necessary and then just being at home with all of whatever facts there are, notes, thoughts, stray . . . stray bits . . . and letting that marinate until I can figure out a way that it looks interesting, or enlightening, or entertaining to write a page.  So I don’t have a . . . but it . . . but it requires for me . . . it requires to do what I consider good writing to be alone in a room for, you know, a few hours at a time.  And then whatever alchemy happens, happens.   But then the other half of my creative life, which is doing Studio 360 as well as doing magazines – editing magazines in the past – is this entire collaborative process, entirely or significantly and vastly different from the creative process of writing, which is about finding a team of people with whom you’re comfortable, but not identical; and being open to all of the various ideas and approaches that that team brings.  And if you’re a leader of the team, trying to. . . to inspire those people to do good work and . . . and . . . and keep a vision of what it is you’re trying to do collaboratively so that it’s not just a collection of 10 different people doing 10 different things, but all fits into the . . . into the large vision.  And so as I said those are very different.  I get satisfaction out of both, and . . . and very happy that I . . .  Literally my days are divided between those two forms of creative process.  So you know, by the time I’m done doing a radio program, and all the meetings, and conversations, and all the back and forth that that requires, I’m very happy to be . . . the next morning, to go back in my room and spend five hours alone.

I have never suffered from writer’s block.  I . . .  I . . .  When I’m working on a book I’m pretty disciplined – unless I have something else I have to do – about going in a room and working. Some days the result is crap and I throw that away.  So, you know, I can’t imagine having writer’s block, because I can imagine . . . I don’t know if this is how it is for other writers . . . but feeling as though you’re writing the crap as you’re writing it, and then stopping because you can’t bear to commit crap to the page anymore.  But so, I never have had it.  You know, I listen to the critic within me or the editor within me as I’m writing.  I think that’s unavoidable.  I can turn it off or turn it down enough that I am able to write through the kind of distant criticism in the back of my head.

 

Recorded On: 7/5/07