Insightful commentary

I've been blessed in much of my writing career to live in the same city as an insightful critic, Bob Hicks, who responds to what I'm up to, often praising my efforts, sometimes not, but always clear and fair. His retirement remarks include this advice to critics:

Do your homework. Be fair. Be accurate. Connect the specifics of your story to the larger world: what does it mean; where does it fit? Praise when praise is called for. Be stern when sternness is called for. Be clear. Don't show off in your writing; it'll come back to bite you on the butt. But remember, you're an entertainer -- people read you not just for information but also for the pleasure of reading good writing.

Hicks nails what Christmas at the Juniper Tavern is about in his recent commentary. This is not a knee jerk appreciation: for example, I think he completely missed the boat in his review, many years ago, of my play Varmints. Win a few, lose a few (for both of us!) -- but Hicks is always intelligent, reasonable, fair, even when I disagree with him about my work or the work of others. I can't over-estimate how important intelligent commentary can be to a writer.

Working, emerging writers want to be understood and appreciated. Old writers want to be respected and appreciated for what they've contributed. I definitely felt the former early in my career, thanks largely to Hicks but also to others here and in Seattle who responded to my work. I don't feel particularly "respected" in Portland now (there are exceptions in Hicks, Mark Zusman at WW, other journalists who were here in the 80s). I mostly feel invisible and marginal, but that is okay, too. I think my work will be reevaluated after I'm gone, literally or geographically, and many of my plays will find interest here once again. I firmly believe in one cultural truth: the movers and shakers prefer their artists dead. I'll have this artistic advantage in the (not so distant, at my age) future.

The best thing about my life is that I'm still working and I'm working with confidence, without stress, with my primary audience being an archive. This works just fine at this stage of my life.

Sisyphus is happy, and I'm content.