Ciào everyone! Glad to see you’ve dropped in for this week’s featured author!

Today, you’ll have the pleasure of meeting Yance Wyatt, who you’ll find has an incredible imagination and shines in duplicity, which I know you will enjoy! If I say any more you’ll raise your fists and shout “SPOILER” at me! 

So, join us in some comfortable chairs, pop an umbrella in your drink and let’s get into the interview!

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Deborah: Hi Yance! Let’s have some fun here! First question: Do you have a large research library you pull from or do you just use the internet? Explain.

Yance: When I am researching content that might make its way into a story, I turn to the internet, whether for a synonym of a certain word or a whole historical era to serve as a backdrop.  When I am considering a literary technique that might shape the content of a story, I turn to my bookshelf to analyze how accomplished authors have executed the technique.  For example, if I am planning to use subtext, I reread Ernest Hemingway’s “Hills Like White Elephants,” an exemplary story that revolves around a single unspoken word: abortion.

 

Deborah: The internet sure does come in handy! I’m always looking up something and talk about a great encyclopedia! Sounds like you have your process down tight there! Speaking of research, have you ever used or considered using a book of poisons for any of your stories? Explain why or why not.

Yance: A book of fish?  Pardon your French. 

 

Deborah: Oops! Sorry, I know some authors that have a book of poisons in research for their novel! French huh? Okay, your bio says you are the Director of the Writing Center at the University of Southern California, in addition to freelance creative writing, and you also teach critical and creative writing at USC!  How does it feel to mold the creative minds of today?

Yance: I don’t mold their minds; I teach them to mold their own minds.  In other words, I don’t teach them what to think; I teach them how to think for themselves by moving beyond their preconceptions and kneejerk reactions.  Though writing is indeed an art, I think this notion of molding the molder is easier to conceptualize in terms of fine art.  When working with raw clay, a novice must get his or her hands dirty, but to facilitate that sense of finesse, an instructor will often guide the student’s hands.  I know this smacks of the film Ghost (1990), a love story starring Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore. But I assure you my teaching pedagogy is neither ghastly nor romantic.   

On the other hand, my students teach me as much as I teach them.  In any given class, there are umpteen of them and only one of me.  So when I read their writing, I gain exposure to umpteen different perspectives.  At the end of the day, or the end of the semester, I can only hope that they learn from me a fraction (one-umpteenth, to be precise) of what I learn from them.

  

Deborah: What a great story you have made of your teaching, as well as learning! Somewhere in there, there is floating the phrase, when the master comes. As a teacher, if I were to ask to you say something brilliant, what would you say?

 Yance: Huh?   

 

Deborah: Perfect answer! Anything else wouldn’t have been as funny! Okay, time for a goofy question: How many times have you fit a conversation you’ve overheard into your story? 

Yance: I will admit to occasionally filching a friend’s one-liner if, and only if, it legitimately fits in a story.  However, I haven’t had much success incorporating entire conversations, perhaps because I never seem to have a recorder or notebook on hand when I’m having or hearing one of those hilarious or profound conversations.  And on the rare occasion I do have a recorder or notebook handy, the minute I click record or uncap the pen, the conversation instantaneously loses its spontaneity, because everyone is suddenly self-conscious.  It’s like putting a microphone in someone’s face and demanding, “Say something brilliant.”  What are they going to do?  Odds are they’re going to stutter. 

       

Deborah: In that instance, so true! I’ve found when I’m writing and remember a conversation, I as you say, tweak and tinker with it to fit. It kind-of makes it fun! On the subject of fun, I’m curious how you’ll answer this question: If you were a baseball, football or hockey puck (you pick one) and someone hit you, where would you go? 

Yance: Because it would be presumptuous to declare that were I a baseball or football or hockey puck I would sail triumphantly over the fence or through the uprights or into the goal, I think I would prefer to fall out of bounds and into the outstretched hands of a fan.  After all, that’s the real reason we go to games, isn’t it?  To be part of something bigger than us, whether an event, a crowd, or a particular team.  And what could be better than having the coveted focal point of that event fall in your lap? 

 

Deborah: Great answer! You took it and flew with it! Just like I knew you would! I know we’ll have fun with this next question. As a kid, I’m sure you’ve gotten into things, as we all have. Tell us something you remember well.

Yance: Rather than telling you an embarrassing childhood story, allow me to read you one verbatim.  Last summer I took a trip to my hometown of Nashville, Tennessee, and with my sister and mother as fellow archeologists, excavated a treasure trove of memorabilia including such priceless fossils as homemade ornaments, hand-turkeys, and the first short story I ever wrote entitled “Water McMonster” (keep in mind that I was eating a lot of Happy Meals at the time). 

It was a cold night.  The wind was blowing through the trees.  The Water McMonster came out.  I hate him.  Do you?  The water was gleaming.  I was not scared of him.  It was fun.  You cannot beat me up Water McMonster.  You cannot beat me up.  Because if you do, I will do it to you.  I will not let you.  The End. 

In hindsight, I think this story is still one of my best, in terms of concision and brand recognition. 

 

Deborah: Yes, thanks to your Happy Meals you came up with a great story! The writer in you sure came out at a young age! Great imagination! From that revelation, how do you think Alvin, Theodore, and Simon first met Dave?

Yance: At a party.  They were listening to old LPs at 78 rpm. 

 

Deborah: Did you get that from the internet? You definitely know a lot to know that! You sly thing! Here’s a philosophical question for you now. I relish the mystery of these answers! What do you feel about quantum mechanical theories involving cats in boxes or rather sharp razors?

Yance: I have an allergy to cats and an aversion to sharp objects, so I wouldn’t make much of a theoretical physicist, nor a veterinarian for that matter.  Though I cannot be in the same room (a big box) with them, I do admire them from afar.  Unlike dogs, a species that is dependant and dense in an endearing way, all cats are independent and all cats are street-smart.  Come to think of it, all cats are essentially New Yorkers.  

  

Deborah: You didn’t let me down! Unusual classification, as New Yorkers, but that accurately works for me, knowing the species! Okay, no veterinarian questions! Well, except for this one, when a bird is sitting on an electrical power line, why does it keep one foot raised?

Yance: Sobriety test.  

 

Deborah: I wasn’t expecting that answer, but now that you answered it, it makes a lot of sense! Too funny! This is another old question, but you inspire me to ask it. In working with An Honest Lie, what was the most exciting part and what was the most frustrating part?

Yance: The most frustrating and rewarding part of the publication process was revising my story.  After it was accepted for publication, the editor sent me copious notes on how the story could be recast to evoke more emotion.  So I started “killing my darlings,” as William Faulkner would say, meanwhile suffering through the five stages of grief. 

1) Denial: “The story doesn’t need to be revised.” 

2) Anger: “The story needs to be revised.  You should’ve written it better the first time, Yance!”

3) Bargaining: “If I omit this, maybe the editor will let me keep that.”

4) Depression: “What’s the point in writing anything down if I’m just going to die one day?”

5) Acceptance: “Huh.  The story is better than it was before I revised it.  Thank you, editor.”      

 

Deborah: You make your writers anguish pretty funny! And I know for certain that ME appreciates all of your hard work! Talking about anguish of writing, you have received the 2009 Silver Brad Award for your full-length feature film screenplay and nominated for The Pushcart Prize, Best of the Small Presses, 2010 for one of your stories. Which one is the most cherished to you and why?

Yance: Despite winning the Silver Brad Award and receiving a sleek unisex trophy bearing a conspicuous resemblance to Oscar, merely being nominated for the Pushcart Prize means more to me for two reasons: because literature is my first love, and because “Legal Tender” was my first short story—other than “Water McMonster”.

 

Deborah: Wow! Then the anguish of waiting for the envelope to be opened! Let me ask you this, what was instrumental in your becoming a writer?

Yance: My answer to this question might as well be the acknowledgment section of a book, because I wouldn’t have become a writer without the support of many benevolent individuals.  First and foremost, I was raised by a couple of super-parents, both of whom worked tirelessly to provide me and my sister with opportunities.  If not for this emotionally stable and financially secure foundation, I wouldn’t have had the courage or wherewithal to pursue writing as a profession—a profession less lucrative yet more fulfilling than most. 

 

Deborah: Nah. That sounded more like a thank-you speech after receiving an Oscar for a foreign film! With your sense of humor I have to ask this funny question, have you ever participated in a Sumo match?

Yance: No.  But I have participated in several eating contests, which seems comparable or relevant or something.  Plus, in my teens, I frequented all-you-can-eat buffets only to monopolize the crab legs.  In my mid-twenties, I suddenly developed a severe allergy to shellfish, and I can’t help but consider this karmic retribution.       

 

Deborah: It certainly sounds like karmic retribution to me! Speaking of which, are there any authors, besides yourself, that you enjoy reading and do you have the time to read?

Yance: With the breakneck pace of life these days, no one has time to read.  But I try to make time.  What I read depends on my mood.  More specifically, there is usually a negative correlation between my mood and the book’s tone.  When I spent a summer volunteering in a South African orphanage, I counterbalanced the somber setting with the circular humor of Joseph Heller.  When all is well in America, I feel safe enough to read heavier works, like those of John Steinbeck, who is my all-time favorite author. 

 

Deborah: Now that’s pretty profound. And those two are great classic writers! Talking of profound and books, what other works do you have coming up?

Yance: I recently wrote “Burning the Banana Tree,” a short film to be shot on location in eastern Uganda.  Whereas previous blockbusters such as Hotel Rwanda (2004) and The Last King of Scotland (2006) have been set in the throes of African genocide, our team wants to pick up where they left off, bringing awareness to the largely undocumented aftermath of these atrocities, a bittersweet period of restoration and revival. To learn more about the project, please visit: http://www.burningthebananatree.com/

 

Yance, it’s been a lot of fun sitting here and talking with you! I know our readers could visualize a twinkle coming up in your eyes before your answers! And I’m sure everyone has enjoyed your duplicity, as have I!

Readers, don’t forget Yance’s story, “The Dognapper” will be in An Honest Lie, Volume 3: Justifiable Hypocrisy, scheduled for release this fall.

Journey back next week to find out who our next author will be! Au revoir!

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Yance Wyatt lives and works in Los Angeles, California, where he is the Director of the Writing Center at the University of Southern California. In addition to freelance creative writing, Yance also teaches critical and creative writing at USC. His published works include “The Shark’s Gut”, published in ZYZZYVA: West Coast Writers & Artistis, Volume 88; “The Ninth Life” published in THEMA: Many Plots/One Premise, Volume 23; “Piss and Vinegar” published in Burnt Bridge: Stories that Don’t Apologize, Volume 1; and “Legal Tender” published in Blue Moon Literary & Art Review, Volume 6. Yance’s story “Legal Tender” was nominated for The Pushcart Prize, Best of the Small Presses, 2010. You can learn more about this award at http://www.pushcartprize.com/. Yance was also the winner of the 2009 Silver Brad Award for his full-length feature film screenplay entitled, “Eminent Domain.” You can learn more about this award by visiting http://moviescriptcontest.com/winnerscircle.html.