A writer's faith

In a visit to campus some years back, Edward Albee was asked what his best play was. He replied, The one I'm working on now. Otherwise, why write?

Most writers, I think, can relate to and endorse this answer. We strive to get better. We continue to believe we'll get it right in the new work. Salinger has said that a writer's only concern is to aim at some sort of perfection on his own, and only his own, terms.

And so I'm beginning to see the novel-in-progress in this new light, as having the potential to be the best thing I've written. Maybe it's just the faith, or the delusion, that keeps a writer going. What is more rewarding now than earlier in my career is that I don't give a damn what anyone else thinks. I used to. I used to want good reviews, popularity. But along the way I discovered that good press -- and I've had my share, as well as some bad press -- is irrelevant. What really matters is producing work that I can go back to a long time later and say to myself, Wow, did I really write that? And I've had enough of this kind of work to consider myself a success, although in a more popular or critical context, I've become far less visible over the last several decades.

The story I'm working on belongs to the "What's it all about, Alfie?" family of stories, an old man on his last day, with enough twists to keep a reader turning the pages, enough magic to package the heavier stuff in an entertaining way. If I do it right, that is.

I'm excited about both writing projects I'm working on. Onward.