Author Interview: Thaisa Frank, author of Heidegger’s Glasses
Friday, January 20th, 2012
I have a GREAT interview for you today. Asking a stranger random questions about their work can be a gamble — sometimes you get great answers, sometimes not. This time? Great answers.
First, a little about the book, Heidegger’s Glasses:
Heidegger’s Glasses opens during the end of World War II in a failing Germany coming apart at the seams. The Third Reich’s strong reliance on the occult and its obsession with the astral plane has led to the formation of an underground compound of scribes—translators responsible for answering letters written to those eventually killed in the concentration camps. Into this covert compound comes a letter written by eminent philosopher Martin Heidegger to his optometrist, who is now lost in the dying thralls of Auschwitz. How will the scribes answer this letter? The presence of Heidegger’s words—one simple letter in a place filled with letters—sparks a series of events that will ultimately threaten the safety and well-being of the entire compound.
This one is definitely on my TBR list, but until then, I got a chance to ask author Thaisa Frank some questions about here work…
AotS: I am always fascinated by a writer’s process – how and when and where they write. Do you have any rituals around your writing? Particular places or times of the day that your write, music that you listen to or a schedule that you keep?
TF: About process: I tend to be a sprinter–that is, I mull over the story for a long time and collect fragments that have resonance until they’ve arranged themselves into a pattern and suggest the sequence and shape of the story. There are blank days in this process, during which I assure myself that the story is gestating and that I’m not just wasting time. (I’m never sure until the story manifests!)
Flaubert said: It’s not the pearls, it’s the way they’re strung together and I guess you might say that I collect the pearls very slowly and then work intensively until they’re strung into a viable necklace.
Rules and rituals: I generally have one writing rule that I stick to: I don’t take a break until 4:30 on weekdays. This means that I don’t meet people for lunch or schedule writing consultations with clients and I stay at my desk, or in a café with my computer, even if all I’m doing is staring. It’s kind of like being a shopkeeper. I may not have any customers that day but if I don’t show up, I won’t sell anything.
Places: In the mulling-over phase I can work in cafes. I like the ambient noise, the music in the background and the friends who stop to talk. But in the printing phase, I work in my studio–a quiet place with a lot of papers. I’m compulsive about the music and rhythm in my work, so I sometimes will print a page many times, just to see whether one comma should be taken out. I turn into a crazed type A maniac when I print and I wouldn’t want anyone to see me!
AotS: Do you generally plot the story in your head and know what you want to write when you sit down? Or do you just pick up a pen (or boot up the laptop) and let fly? Do you know when you begin how the story will end?
TF: I don’t know the plot when I begin a story. I start with a phrase, an image, a situation, and often a title. Sometimes I know the last phrases of a story without knowing what the story is about. I often start my stories in longhand and at some point work switch to my laptop. There’s always an exciting point in this process—the point at which the story seems to be an independent entity, outside my imagination. And then it begins to tell me what to do with it—what to take out, what to emphasize. It’s like catching on to a math problem or a puzzle. For me, this is on one of the most exciting parts of writing fiction.
AotS: You’ve published two previous books of short stories. How is it different, writing a full length novel? Do you think about the story differently?
TF: I start a novel the same way I start a story. That is, with an an image, a title, a sense of place, or a slightly surreal situation. For example: One element in Heidegger’s Glasses was a vision of a cobblestone street with gas lamps in an abandoned mine. There was a large room in this mine where people were writing letters to the dead. This image was on my mind when I started the novel. The room and the mine became populated with people. As did the title Heidegger’s Glasses. But a third of the way through, I had to begin to see how these strands related to a larger narrative arc that would carry the story through to the end. So this leds me to thinking about the plot. Short stories seem to resolve themselves on an intuitive level. In a short story, the pearls turn into something light, something that can be thrown in the air and land in a pattern. In a novel, two-thirds of the way through, I really have to think about “what comes next.” (more…)










