15Q With Bret A. Johnston

As if being from Corpus Christi, Texas doesn’t already make Bret A. Johnston a celeb, he has just published his second book entitled “Naming the World: And Other Exercises for the Creative Writer.” He has also contributed to various anthologies, is regularly featured on National Public Radio, and currently directs Harvard’s Creative Writing Program. In 2006 he was named one of the National Book Foundation’s “5 under 35” gifted young writers, which means that he’s also really young (and seriously good at writing). Oh and did we mention... he used to be a professional skateboarder? FM sat down with this mastermind to talk about his new collection, thrashing, and making films with Farrah Fawcett.

1.

Fifteen Minutes (FM): How did the idea for “Naming the World” come about?

Bret A. Johnston (BJ): An editor approached me about doing it, and I thought it was a wonderful idea. When that editor couldn’t make it happen, I went to Random House and they immediately jumped on it. After that, it was really a dream project. I got to contact all these writers that I admired...For example, when I asked Joyce Carol Oates, she agreed to help and also told me about all these other people that I could try.

2.

FM: The way the book explains writing makes it sound like an almost physical experience. Is that a common attitude among writers?

BJ: There are so many things about writing that are so mysterious...But there are plenty of things that can be explained. You can really teach someone technique and craft and how to be a more sophisticated reader. Any gift or talent that the writer has will then be augmented. Like you said, it really comes down to being physical.

3.

FM: In the book you say that you don’t believe in inspiration or that writing can be taught—which sucks for all of us non-fiction people. But if you can’t teach creative writing, then what do you do in your creative writing class?

BJ: I absolutely don’t believe in “inspiration.” Writing begets writing, and the more you read, the more you’re going to write. In the book, I say that I’m not sure if writing can be taught, but I’m positive that it can be learned. What the book tries to do and what we try to do here in our classes is just set up an environment where that learning can take place. But inspiration or the muse—I don’t believe in those.

4.

FM: So does that mean that if we really worked at it, we’d eventually be able to produce good fiction?

BJ: I’d be surprised if you couldn’t. There are different levels of success, different levels of aspiration for every writer. But I can speak for myself—I was such a horrible writer when I started. Yet I wanted it so badly, so I would read and write constantly. One of the ways that I think about it is if you enter an old house and you turn on a faucet, all of that sludgy orange-brown water comes out at first. But if you leave the faucet running, eventually the water starts to run clearly. That’s really part of the writing process, learning how to get to the clear water.

5.

FM: So are you like Plato in that you think ability and knowledge are already in you and that it’s only a matter of removing the crap in the way?

BJ: I do think you have to clear away the crap, but I don’t think that everything you write is already in you. That’s why I don’t really buy into the notion of ‘write what you know.’ I try to disabuse myself and my students of that everyday. I mean so often you know more than you think you do, but I’m more interested as a writer and a teacher in what you don’t know, what you want to know, what you’re afraid to know. Writing is a path of discovery.

6.

FM: In the book you mention the painter, Don Bachardy, as an artist who exemplifies the daily rigor that goes into any art. What other non-literary figures do you admire?

BJ: Right now, like most of the world, I’m fascinated by Amy Winehouse. I’m smitten beyond belief with her music. I like prog[ressive] rock, although I guess you’re not supposed to say that. I’ve had the good opportunity to become good friends with Tool and A Perfect Circle. As you can tell by the cover of the book, I find Joseph Cornell’s work fascinating. This is pretty literary, but I just finished watching the entire series of “The Wire.” It’s almost scary to say it, but if all television was as good as “The Wire,” people who write fiction and poetry would be looking for work. Have you seen it?

FM: Just one season over winter break. There isn’t much time to watch TV here.

BJ: Really? How are you not addicted to it like crack?

7.

FM: Your collection of short stories, “Corpus Christi,” gets its title and setting from your hometown of Corpus Christi, Texas. What do you find so distinct and compelling about the city?

BJ: It’s a city that’s interestingly situated. It’s right on the Gulf of Mexico, so it’s consistently vulnerable to hurricanes and all sorts of weather. It’s also a city that doesn’t know what it is; there’s a military contingent, there’s a farming and ranching contingent, there’s a tourism industry, there’s this small cosmopolitan aspect to it. I’m interesting in that kind of complexity, especially when you couple it with vulnerability. After I had written two or four stories, I saw that the city itself was becoming a character.

8.

FM: Eva Longoria and Farrah Fawcett also come from Corpus Christi. How do you compare to them?

BJ: Well, we’re all hopelessly attractive. The three of us are really a sight to behold.

9.

FM: Do you hang out with other celebrities from Corpus Christi? Is there a club for you guys?

BJ: If there is, I haven’t been invited. But when Corpus Christi first came out, I got messages from Farrah Fawcett saying that she loved the book and that she was buying it for everyone she knew. She asked if I’d be interested in doing something with a movie. Nothing has quite happened yet. I’m still waiting for Eva to call.

10.

FM: There’s an anecdote in the book where you go back to your high school reunion, and people jokingly say, “You’re alive!” What sort of reputation did you have in high school?

BJ: I was interested in almost nothing but skateboarding. I made good enough grades so that my parents or the school didn’t bother me, and I skated every morning and night. Sometimes I came to school with a pelvis knocked out of alignment. I never really hung out with anybody, but I ran for student council president on a whim and won. Then the person who was in charge told me that they were giving it to another guy who would show up for the meetings. I couldn’t argue with him.

11.

FM: You started skateboarding after seeing “Back to the Future.” Did you have a similar moment when you wanted to start writing?

BJ: I’ve always loved language and reading. Also, all the girls I liked in school wrote poetry, so I started writing poetry that was abysmally bad. But I was focused on skateboarding for a long time, and when I went back to college, the only thing that excited me was writing. There was a moment where I went to a reading by the novelist Robert Stone, and when the reading was over an hour later, I knew I wanted to be a writer.

12.

FM: What do you like about the short story form?

BJ: That it can take your breath away. I love the power and economy of short stories. A story can achieve that moment where you reach the last word and it feels as though you’ve been led to the one and only place where it can end. One doesn’t trump the other, but a novel can’t do that by the sheer nature of its length.

13.

FM: Word on the street is that you’re writing a novel. What’s going on with that?

BJ: It’s due next February, and I’m three-quarters done with it. I’m excited, but I’m also a frightfully slow writer. I write at a novelist’s pace, which means I write for a few hours each day, but I don’t go on these binges.

14.

FM: What is the novel about?

BJ: It’s kind of an ensemble; there’s an elderly man who is suffering from dementia, and he thinks his dead wife is talking to him; his daughter is spending evenings walking in circles around a pool with a sick baby whale, helping to rehabilitate it; her son may or may not have pulled a huge prank on his school; there’s a violin prodigy who may or may not have lost his gift. I’m eager to find out how it ends.

15.

FM: So you’ve been a professional skateboarder, an award-winning author, and a Harvard professor. What gets you the most bragging rights?

BJ: I don’t know, do I have anything to brag about? It’s not so much about bragging rights. It’s almost a continuum of what invites the least amount of hassling from my friends. Maybe that should be a poll for your readers. Let them decide.