Celebrating 10 years of Writers on a New England Stage: Interviewer Insights

My approach is somewhat paradoxical: to be well-prepared and to stay curious. With writers especially, we tend to craft ideas of who they are based on their books. I find that assuming I know what motivates them blocks new information and keeps me from genuine listening. Being interviewed opens up vulnerability in even the most practiced and celebrated of writers. My goal is to truly explore their unpolished parts by letting my own uncertainty be present on-stage. When I fumble, I self-correct. And, I lean on silence. I find the empty space gives permission for something unexpected or previously unsaid to emerge. Staying on that edge opens a path for the conversation to flow organically and avoids the kind of rote answers bound to roll out—almost reflexively—when a writer is on a multi-stop book tour. I want to surprise them, surprise the audience. It keeps my reflexes sharper.

The paradox comes in remaining curious and trying to know as much as I can about their work and lives. It’s a tremendous honor to do this work, and doing the reading and the research is a way of showing respect and making their creative risks and output the focus. My hope is to establish trust and ease, making them feel like they are chatting, rather than performing. Several writers have told me that they forgot they were on stage and felt like we were just having a conversation. THAT is the goal.

I’ve been inspired by everyone I’ve talked to in some way. Those who stand out for me are those willing to be generous with their humanity and reflective about their work and their creative process. I loved Sue Monk Kidd’s frankness about the legacy of growing up in the South during segregation; was captivated by Anne Rice talking about wrestling with Catholicism while having a gay son; appreciated David McCullough—an historian of such gravitas—paying homage to his lovely wife and inspiration, Rosalee, who was in the audience. I was completely taken by Neil Gaiman and Salman Rushdie, who both talked about religion and huge questions confronting our world while also revealing their respective senses of humor and playfulness; was moved by Sonia Sotomayor’s pride in her humble beginnings; valued Chuck Palahuniuk’s articulation of what Recovery does for people in his answer to why he often puts 12-Step groups in his fiction; adored the way Diana Gabaldon giggled after she said something funny; and felt the immensity of Joan Didion’s grief in losing a beloved husband and child.

We can never truly know what is in the heart or mind of another person. Particularly writers, who create worlds for us to inhabit, or tell stories that give us new perspectives on history and celebrated lives. I am extremely grateful for the opportunity to tease out what motivates their creativity and the affect writing has on their own lives, which is a gift to us all.