and emotional tendencies. The great thing about writing fiction is that you can become someone other than who you are-in my case, a middle-aged white man who teaches in a university creative writing program. Ifl were limited to only that subject matter, I think I'd find something else to do with my time. CR: must a story have to be successful aesthetically? Is any such in place? MP: There are several elements, and they most certainly are there in the first place. The first, the most crucial, is friction. Other– wise known as desire. What does this person want? Ifthere's nothing at stake, no desire, no want or need, there is no story. The second is rhythm. The Irish story writer Frank O'Connor said, "Every story has its own rhythm, which is the rhythm of life itself." The story writer's job is to locate the rhythm of the situation he's describing and find ways– with language, with scene and summary and space break and syntax and dialogue and gesture-to mimic that rhythm in the fabric of the story. When you get these two things right-the friction, the rhythm of that desire-the story works on the reader musically. Which is to say with mystery and magic, with notes that seem to come from within rather than without. is your primary emotion as you begin to a new piece? is your primary emotion as you finish a piece? MP: My primary emotion as I begin is a mix of faith and doubt. It's rather like holding a car on a hill, a straight drive, of course. (Automatic transmissions are an abomination. I have never owned one, and when I get a rental car with an automatic transmission I drive like a bat out of hell, because I have so much less to do with my hands and feet.) You depress the pedals to find that sweet spot: gas and clutch equally engaged. Faith that, first of all, you actually have a story to tell and that you can find the friction and rhythm to tell it well. Doubt is equally important, for ifyou believe too hugely in your skills, youwill 59
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