Dear writers and readers, the time has come, the deadline is fast approaching and we only have so much time left to meet all of our authors before An Honest lie Volume 2 will be released so, let’s meet our next contributor.

Terry Sanville is a full time writer living in San Luis Obispo with his wife, who doubles as his in-house editor. He sent us a harrowing tale called “Weight”, and boy it has that. One of my personal favorites in this collection, “Weight” is about a woman named Sandra living alone in a house she used to share with her mother. When the city inspectors come knocking on her door, Sandra’s life takes an unexpected turn. Terry comes to us with an impressive pedigree and a literary weight of his own. You can learn more about Terry and his work at (www.terrysanville.com).

We asked Terry a few questions about writing, thinking and well, weight. Terry gave us some very minimal answers but you’ll understand why.

Open Heart Publishing: We are very happy to have to opportunity to work with you Terry. What do you feel is a delusion of insignificance?

Terry Sanville: People who experience delusions of insignificance may have unreasonably low self-esteem. They may feel that they’ve failed to accomplish anything significant, have failed to meet others’ expectations, even though they may receive positive responses and support. I suspect there are more than a few writers who experience these delusions…those who are apologetic about their work, who lack the strong ego needed to forge ahead in the face of rejection, or worse, in the face of no response at all.
My ego is large enough so that I seldom suffer this neurosis. But on days when the blank computer screen stares back at me, and the rejection notices dump into my e-mail box unrelentingly, I’m reminded of that line by the Reverend Johnson in the movie Blazing Saddles, “O Lord, do we have the strength to carry off this mighty task in one night? Or are we just jerking off?”

OHP: What is An Honest Lie?

T.S.: In 600 B.C., the Cretan philosopher Epimenides declared, “All Cretans are liars.” As Creat-ans, we fiction writers must defend this paradox – for it is by writing stories that we honestly expose what is real in this world, those truths that lie beyond history, science, and mere observation. An honest lie often lies at the heart of a good story – take the Bible, for example….

OHP: Not certain that one could be called an honest lie but we take your point. I am a big fan of your story “Weight”, would you indulge me and tell me a bit about your inspiration for the story?

T.S.: Down the street from my home stood a small house, overgrown with shrubs and vines and hidden by trees. An old man lived there. He’d park his truck in the driveway, facing away from the road, and sit for hours, not moving. He died in that truck. Finding no relatives or a legal will, the County opened his house and property for an estate sale. I spent part of an evening digging around the place. Shoulder-high stacks of rusted electric fans and space heaters crowded the backyard, piles of broken and corroded tools filled the garage, and the house had newspapers and clothing stacked to the ceiling. The old man’s compulsion, to horde things to the point where his property became unusable, astounded me. Years later, I did some research, talked with a psychologist friend, then wrote “Weight.”

OHP: It’s a very engaging tale. Why do you feel the need to write?

T.S.: Other than to keep my aging synapses opening and closing, I write because I love to tell stories. Storytelling allows me to create characters, settings, actions, and then bend them in ways that satisfy me. I don’t write to record reality so much as to create it, hopefully in a meaningful and entertaining way. There are few other human activities that allow such freedom – which is another reason why Freedom of Speech is so important.

OHP: Why did you decide to submit your work to An Honest Lie?

T.S.: I wrote a good story. It seemed to meet the theme of “Delusions of Insignificance.” I like the idea of being part of an anthology, where the editors pay attention to writing quality and storytelling – hey, enough sucking up already! But seriously, this project seems to have greater significance than your garden-variety zine – so I gave it a shot.

OHP: For some, the writing and submitting process is a painful one; what is your approach to the process of writing we all have to struggle with?

T.S.: Sometimes, ideas for my stories come from settings, particular characters, or actions that I’ve observed. Other times, tales come out of the ether. Yet other stories are half true tales, taken from my life. (It helps to have lived over six decades.)

I like to mull over an idea for a few days before I start writing…although I often start pounding the keyboard before the idea comes into full focus. The writing itself can help pull things together. For more complex tales, I sometimes prepare a synopsis – one that identifies key characters and plot elements. For stories that have lots of characters (an exception for me), I sometimes do mini-character sketches – but mostly my characters develop as I write.

I like stories that flow. I try to fit characterizations and descriptions into action sequences. I avoid writing thick paragraphs that describe something or someone. I want the reader to discover things as the story moves through time and space, hopefully at a pace that satisfies the reader. I use dialog to show a character’s personality, emotions, and background, and to move the story forward.

Once I’ve completed a draft, I take a week to “polish” the writing – play with word choices and sentence/paragraph structures, eliminate unnecessary words, and “flesh out” sparse elements. I spend a lot of time tinkering with beginnings and endings and I am seldom completely satisfied with the result.

In sum, I really don’t have a process that I always follow – how a story develops is highly variable. But I write every day for three or four hours and produce a couple stories each month – at least get them to a point where my excellent in-house editor (my wife) can give them the once over before the two writers critique groups that I belong to takes their shots.

While I write mostly short fiction, I also have five novels in various stages of completion. Novels require much more research and story development than my shorter works, and maintaining tension and interest throughout is challenging for me. I have some way to go before I feel good about writing long…but stay tuned.

OHP: Most of write because we love o read. Reading, in my opinion creates strong writers. If you have a writer you look up to, who would you say is your writing mentor/ hero?

T.S.: Hemingway. Anyone who can write a powerful short story in six words (“For sale, baby shoes, never worn.”) is aces in my book.

OHP: Do you think writers should call Ernest Hemmingway, Papa?

T.S.: Call Hemingway (one “m”) Papa only if you’re a writer and one of his children, grandkids, or even a distant cousin many times removed. Otherwise, just appreciate the man for his contribution to serious minimalist writing. What a master, and one of my favorite authors who could subtly present human emotion in so few words. I might call Hemingway Papa if I sat in the rooftop bar of the Ambos Mundos Hotel overlooking Havana Harbor and downed a dozen Daiquiris. I’m sure he would appear to me in a vision and give sage advice for cutting all the crap out of these answers.

OHP: Ah, Hemingway; we could all stand to learn a lesson or two from him. You mentioned your wife and her editing prowess, tell us about your family.

T.S.: My wife, Marguerite Costigan, is a published poet and award-winning artist (re http://www.mcostigan-fineart.com/). She is also my in-house editor and knows all those finicky writing rules associated with this crazy English language. While we chose not to have children, we have chosen to have cats – cheaper and very affectionate. Our current feline daughter, Zoë, inspired a recent op ed piece on national health care that will be published in Phati’tude Magazine in NYC.
The name Sanville is French, meaning “without city” – somewhat ironic since I worked as a city planner most of my adult life. We are a scarce breed of vagabonds, Huguenots that emigrated from northern France via Britain to America in the mid-1600s.

OHP: Alright, we are at the home stretch, I am going to ask a few in a row. In your opinion, which is the more important discovery of humankind… plumbing or the written word?

T.S.: Well, since I’m a guy and we can pee standing up and do it just about anywhere, plumbing is less critical. My vote is for the written word as being more important. However, there have been cultures that have developed rich oral traditions for storytelling. I’d like to read more about them but I can’t find much material.

OHP: According to Anatole France “To die for an idea is to set a rather high price on conjecture.” In your opinion, what do you believe is worth dying for? What do you believe is worth living for?

T.S.: I’m not sure that there is anything worth dying for. With the possible exception of Jesus Christ and other larger-than-life martyrs, once a person dies, he/she loses the ability to directly affect change. Therefore, I feel it is more courageous to stay alive and contribute to human culture than to make a political statement through death.

What do I think is worth living for? As a hedonist, I would say: a huge bowl of the salmon bisque at Novo Restaurant in San Luis Obispo, playing a pre-war Martin guitar or maybe a pre-CBS Stratocaster, and traveling with my wife on Plein Air painting trips.

OHP: Mark twain once said “You can’t depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus.” What do you believe he meant by that?

T.S.: I think good ole Samuel Clemens may have packed more than tobacco in those cigars he smoked. But my artist wife tells me that if the image in her head for a particular painting is unclear, then the outcome is often unsuccessful. Maybe Clemens felt the same way – if the concept for a story is fuzzy, if the imagination is out of focus, what the writer produces is a poorly told tale.
But sometimes I think that the very act of writing, however misguided, can help focus the imagination. Myself and other writers have worked this way and have produced wonderful stories. Maybe if Clemens had just kept writing Huckleberry Finn and had not set it down for years, he could have worked through his writer’s block and not inserted that terrible “Phelps Farm Incident” near the end of such a wonderful book.

OHP: Something you have coming soon that you’re particularly proud of?

T.S.: In the next year I hope to complete and begin shopping two novels, “The Long Fall,” and “Deep Water Secrets.” These two works are the first in a series of mystery/adventure stories that take place on beautiful Santa Catalina Island off the Southern California Coast.

This past year, my story “The Sweeper” was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. I hope to write more stories that will garner new nominations – I just don’t know what they are yet

OHP: Most people have two stories for doing anything… a plausible excuse and the real reason, why do you really write?

T.S.: I write to satisfy my ego and to differentiate myself from the madding crowd.

Terry Sanville lives in San Luis Obispo, California with his artist-poet wife (his in-house editor) and one skinny cat (his in-house critic). He writes full time, producing short stories, essays, poems, an occasional play, and novels. Since 2005, his short stories have been accepted by more than 100 literary and commercial journals, magazines, and anthologies, including the Fifth Wednesday Journal, Birmingham Arts Journal and Boston Literary Magazine. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize for his story “The Sweeper.” Terry is a retired urban planner and an accomplished jazz and blues guitarist – who once played with a symphony orchestra backing up jazz legend George Shearing.