A Conversation with Novelist R.H. Sheldon

The plot in Dancing the River Lightly takes many twists and turns. How extensively did you plan out the book before writing it?

Actually, I did very little advanced planning. I began with the opening statement, “Paul Kazinski’s spiritual quest began with a dream,” and headed into the story from there. Writing the book was as much a process of discovery for me as reading it would have been. I would, however, revise previous passages of the book as I made discoveries or followed new directions. Sometimes I’d change a section, then go back and change it again, and then maybe change it once more, back to its original state. Overall, the process throughout was quite fluid. Perhaps not the most efficient way to write a novel, but the most fun, much more fun than knowing everything in advance.

Tell me about your writing process itself. Do you have a routine that you follow?

No long-term routine, nothing that I would call consistent. My work tends to be cyclic, although I might develop a routine within a particular cycle. I’m often balancing fiction with other projects, either related to writing fiction or that in some way contribute to making a living, such as writing or editing a technical publication, so I’m balancing schedules and deadlines that can keep me pretty crazy. However, I have found that, when working on other projects, I’ll often get up early and drink a couple pots of tea and devote my morning exclusively to fiction, while I still have the brainpower, and then spend the rest of the day working on something else.

Are you particular about where you write, the tools you use, the computer, the paper, the pen?

I’ve written pretty much everywhere, at home, in restaurants, on ferries, in coffee shops, and I’ve written on just about every type of paper. But I often write out my first draft on scratch paper, on the backside of paper that would have otherwise been tossed out. I like graph paper too. That makes doodling more fun. The thing I’m most picky about is my pen. My favorite is a blue Papermate fine point. That has been my favorite for many years. I buy them by the box. But I don’t like the medium point ones, and black ink is a poor substitute for blue. When I’m writing fiction, when I’m in the initial creative stages, I almost always write long hand. For me, there’s a sense of connectiveness between the process of creating and the process of writing, of taking a pen directly to paper. That’s not usually the case with other types of writing—in which I enter text directly into the computer—but even then, if I get stuck, I’ll sit down and write it out. That’s why I always try to have one of my blue pens at hand.

Do you edit your work as you write, or just get words on paper and fix them later?

Normally, I just write and then go back later and fix it—at least that’s how it works if I’m rolling along smoothly and totally into the story and where it’s going. Then I can barely keep up with my pen—although reading my writing can be a little tricky. On the other hand, if I’m plodding along slowly, not feeling particularly inspired, I find myself editing as I go along, often returning to previous sentences and making corrections, re-reading the same passage over and over, staring out the window at whoever happens to pass by.

Dancing the River Lightly has a number of characters integral to the story. Do you have a favorite?

That’s a tough one. I love them all. But I guess if I had to choose, it would be Stanley. He was the most retrospective of the characters, the one dealing with the biggest issues—a deteriorating illness and his imminent mortality. With him, I really got to indulge in the internal stuff, because that’s where he was in his life, and that’s the stuff I love writing the most. But Rebecca would have to come a close second. She had spent most of her life doing the right thing, blindly following everything she had been taught. She’s the one who experienced the most significant growth, and I like that.

Do you see yourself in any of these characters?

All of them—the lonely old man, the dissatisfied middle-aged housewife, the gay man running away from home, the straight white male ruling over his dominion. I doubt I could create a character who I didn’t identify with at least on some level. That said, I still pull characteristics from different people I’ve known throughout my life. Each fictional character is a conglomerate of many real people, synthesized into one. Everyone I’ve ever known, myself included, is both a tragedy and a comedy, all at the same time, and we all make great characters to write about, if we’re willing to dig deeply enough. And the best part is, when I develop characters, I get to pick and choose exactly the characteristics I want, and from there, they take on a life of their own, and I just follow along.

Religion and concepts of God play a pivotal role in Dancing the River Lightly. How would you describe their significance in the book?

I think that any discussions of religion and God, as they pertain to my book, must also include the role that nature plays as well as the concept of reality itself, because all of these are inextricably entwined. At the same time, I think it would be better to look at religion and God in terms of personal belief systems, or something like that, because all the characters have their own belief systems that affect how they interact with one another and how they experience the world around them. In the same way, they all have their own concepts of God, yet these concepts meet at a sort of surreal crossroads that manifests in the natural surroundings and ultimately in the powerful storm, bringing to their world almost mythic overtones. Yet in the end, their realities are not shaped by the weather or the world around them, but the relationships that develop between them, leading each of them to new understandings of their own lives, despite the belief systems that they brought with them.

What authors and books have had the greatest influence on you as a writer?

In many ways, every book I’ve ever read has had some influence on me, whether it’s 19th century literature or a contemporary murder mystery. Even if I hate it, I can still learn from it, better understand what pitfalls await me. But there definitely have been those writers and books that have resonated with me above all others. For example, I’ve read most everything written by Kurt Vonnegut, J.D. Salinger, and Hermann Hesse, and I still didn’t get enough of them. And then there’s specific books like As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner and The Awakening by Kate Chopin and Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston. And these are only the tip of the iceberg. There’s also One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez and A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole and many many more. All amazing books. All profound inspirations. They are the reason I read. The reason I write.

What have been the most challenging aspects in the selling/publishing process of Dancing the River Lightly?

Of course the rejections, and the waiting. Every step was painfully slow—mailing out manuscripts, waiting for replies, piling up the rejections. But I was lucky. My agent loved the book and she stayed committed till we signed with SterlingHouse. But signing led to another challenge—the amount of content I had to cut in order to get SterlingHouse to take the book on. I had to conform to their strict page-count limit, so it was necessary for me to chop away at places I didn’t want to chop. Yet this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, just difficult. If left to my own devices, I’d go the route of James Fenimore Cooper and end up with pages and pages describing a branch on a tree.

What advice would you give the aspiring writer?

Write. Write. Write. And read. Read a lot. Read everything. Write some more. Write and read and write and read. Probably most people interested in writing have figured this one out. But here’s another thing. Always think of yourself as a professional, treat yourself as one, act like one. If you’re serious about writing, then make this commitment to yourself, because there will be few who will take your writing seriously. Even people you have known for years, people who have seen you labor over your work, struggle to get published, will see your writing as little more than a hobby, at least until you realize some external successes that can be easily measured. Still, it’s left to you alone to stay motivated, to believe in yourself, to remain committed. The odds are so stacked against writers—more today than ever—that without this solid resolve, you might as well give up now.

Your dedication in Dancing the River Lightly refers to your family and the worm being on the other foot. What does that mean?

I couldn’t resist putting that in. It refers to a family joke that goes back to when we were little kids. My family was sitting around one day, watching some old cops and robbers movie on TV, and there was a scene where the bad guys were chasing the cops, or something like that. Then suddenly that got turned around and the good guys were now going after the bad guys. Just then, my mom announced in a very serious voice, “Aha! The worm is on the other foot.” That has stuck with our family to this day. It’s one of the things that makes my mom so great to be around.

Where do you go from here?

I keep writing. If I’m not writing, I develop a bad attitude, but writing helps that, keeps me feeling a little more balanced, even if what I write is crap and I end up discarding it—and believe me, I’ve written a lot of crap and discarded even more. Still, I keep writing. It’s what I do. It’s who I am. I have started a new novel, already struggled through a number of false starts, ripped up most of what I’ve written, and have serious doubts about where the book is heading. Pretty much business as usual.