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Local
Author Profile: Ken Kalfus
At a Philadelphia
Stories event in the creepy-cool
Parlor on South Broad Street, the
audience had a rare treat: to hear
the first words of a new book by critically
acclaimed author, Ken Kalfus. "I haven't
even shown this to my editor yet,"
Kalfus explained through a quiet smile.
The raw words of his novel depicted
an eloquent, haunting, funny story
that started on that fateful day in
September that changed all of our
lives. Despite the ubiquitous nature
of 9/11, Kalfus managed a fresh interpretation
of this world-changing event.
This book, A Disorder Peculiar
to the Country: A Novel, will
be released in July, and fans and
critics expect another success. Kalfus,
who was born in New York and has lived
in Paris, Dublin, Belgrade, and Moscow,
has authored two acclaimed short story
collections and the terrific The
Commissariat of Enlightenment,
a quasi-historical fiction spanning
two decades in Russia. Philadelphia
Stories spoke with Kalfus about
the new book, and the sometimes frustrating
writing journey.
A
Disorder Peculiar to the Country:
A Novel comes out in July. What was
the inspiration for your latest book?
I think this is something else we
can thank Osama bin Laden for. The
novel's a black comedy about a bitterly
divorcing couple living in Brooklyn
and increasingly entangled in current
events. On the morning of September
11, 2001 he goes to his office at
the World Trade Center and she rushes
to catch a plane, United 93. He's
late for work and she misses her flight,
but that morning, with the world shattered
by grief, they each think the other's
dead and each is secretly delighted.
They're both soon disappointed, of
course, but my novel takes them through
the next several years as they try
to complete their divorce. Everything
that happened to us as a nation in
those years - anthrax, the Afghan
war, the stock market crash, the invasion
of Iraq, etc. - weirdly and satirically
involve them, even as their principal
concern is the war against each other.
You
published Thirst, your first
book of short stories, at age 44.
Were you discouraged you didn't get
published sooner? Any words of inspiration
for those of us still waiting?
First, I should note that all the
stories in Thirst were written
in my 20s and 30s, and most were published
in small literary magazines before
the collection came out. But yes,
there were many times that I was discouraged,
and frustrated, despairing and morose
too, before my first book was published
- and certainly afterwards as well.
Getting
published is by no means the most
difficult part of writing. The struggle
lies in composing something fresh,
important and true. I still struggle
and still get very discouraged, and
then there are moments of light.
Perhaps the pains and failures of
published writers are inspirational
to the unpublished. But it may be
more productive to remember that as
serious readers and aspiring writers,
we're part of the great world literary
enterprise, among the noblest human
endeavors, whatever our level of success.
Passionate reading, receptiveness
to good literature, thoughtfulness
about the world, the willingness to
take creative risks and rigorous craftsmanship
lie at the heart of the enterprise.
Has the Philadelphia area influenced
your writing?
It
hasn't been a subject of my fiction,
but my first book project, Christopher
Morley's Philadelphia, was a collection
of Morley's columns and articles from
the 1920s and '30s. I collected the
pieces and wrote the introduction,
work that made me appreciate the city
I found myself in. The book was published
on Morley's centenary in 1990 and
is still in print.
Can you offer any advice to the
many creative writers who are trying
to juggle work and family, yet want
to write fiction or poetry?
We all have busy lives, and we're
always juggling responsibilities.
For those of us who want to write,
writing (and serious, committed reading)
is work and we have to give it
the same respect and effort that we
do our more lucrative employments.
My practical thought is that if we
can't write every day, we can write
at least once or twice a week, even
when it's as inconvenient as, say,
going to our jobs. We can give ourselves
a minimal weekly word count - say,
250 or 500 words, or 1000 words and
pull an occasional late-nighter if
we have to. As the weeks pile up,
so will the words.
I also suggest that we take the work
of other writers seriously, allowing
ourselves to be moved and transformed
by their words. Reading is the best
thing for an aspiring writer, not
because it necessarily helps fulfill
those aspirations, but because it
most fully engages us in the literary
occupation.
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