Anne Rice Gave Me Permission to Write

When I tell friends and associates Anne Rice gave me permission to write they look at me in awe, sometimes disbelief. But she did. And I’m sure she didn’t know it.

Recall the French theater scene from Interview With the Vampire? The vampires have opened a theater of themacabre where they stage plays “playing” vampires and actually feeding upon victims, in this scene a woman, in front of a naïve audience. It is a long passage—or maybe, like the opening scene from “Jaws,” it just seems interminably long—that effectively, remarkably, shows the suffering of this poor woman who knows she’s in front of an audience, dying. This is without a doubt one of the most sensual passages I’ve ever read. Others agree on this point, too. Many readers report a certain degree of…arousal…when reading it, though there is no sex per se taking place.

Hmmm…being aroused by an unquestionably gruesome scene. Very disturbing and counter-intuitive. Damn good writing.

So, how did Rice give me permission to write? Well, like so many other writers who have a classical moral upbringing, we automatically avoid voicing deeply hidden thoughts and feelings. We do so even if they are just the product of our creative minds working in the manner that causes us to write in the first place. That can be a tough row to hoe for a writer. We think, “What if I wrote that? What would people think of me?”

Anne told me: “Stop it! Who cares?” She’s right, of course. All that kind of thinking does is stifle our creativity; it’s a glass ceiling we need to break through. In some cases, the glass can be pretty thick.

The opening scene of my novel depicts three close friends hunting in the mountains. One shoots a deer across a valley and the three have a hard hike and climb to reach it. During a break, the three are doing what comes natural to guys. They use typically foul language while needling one another; the F-word is abundant in this exchange. It’s natural language in this situation. Gentler, more civil language would be unnatural, at least for them. I had a close friend read it to check it for verisimilitude. He was upset by the language. For a fleeting moment, it stopped me in my tracks. I was concerned that the language wasn’t realistic, too rough. But then I considered who was reading it, a guy who never curses, whereas I am one who does in some reasonably colorful ways. I left the language as it was because that is what I was feeling at the time. It’s what seemed “real” to me.

Regardless of what I thought others would think of my coarseness, I have to stay true to my story because the foul-mouthed speakers are not me, they are themselves and it’s my duty as the writer to let them speak.

So it goes for your inner thoughts. Write them. Let others be upset—or aroused—by what is true to the story and your characters. If you are honest, and do a good and proper job, the readers will understand and love what you write. Not all will, but that’s theirs to deal with, not you.

Anne Rice said so.

Ed Maurer, Editor