Robert Weirsema and I talked a little about interviews during our on-line conversation last Saturday and both Mary Novik (who was just on the Giller long-list with her novel
Conceit) and the legendary Jack Hodgins piped in on the subject over the weekend. Here's that excerpt from our conversation:
Gail: Before we wrap things up, I have one rather silly question to ask you. I've had a great many wonderful interviews over these last few months, and a few really poor ones. I was discussing this one with several authors in the hospitality suite at Wordfest: what is the worst question you've been asked by an interviewer?
Robert: Worst question... hmm... I don't think I have any that really stand out (I tend to black out during interviews, and have little recall of the conversation later)... I just hope that I wasn't cited in anyone else's answer as to 'worst question' or 'worst interviewer'!And what was your worst question? (He asked, cautiously.)
Gail: Well, there were a few. I had one very young reporter (who reminded me of myself in my first year of small town newspaper), who started the conversation by saying she hadn't read the book, and didn't have a copy of the book, which is fine. Who has the time to read everything these days? But she then said, "So, you're self published then?" and went on to ask THAT series of questions: can you sum up your book for me, why did you write it, what are you working on next. Then she sneezed and said, "Oh, I've got to go wipe my nose." (This was a telephone conversation). I think the one question I get asked, even by good interviewers, that rubs me the wrong way is: "Is there anything else you'd like to say?" The question they're asking, of course, is, is there anything more I want to get across in their piece. But I really don't know how to answer that one. Mary, if you're still there, what was your worst interview question?
Mary: Worst interview question .... I guess it was the one that implied that a reader has to be familiar with John Donne's love poems in order to really engage with my novel Conceit, which is so opposite what I intended in writing the novel. I was struck dumb--then started to talk mumbo-jumbo. I don't want to offend people who ask questions out of genuine interest, but I want to be honest to the book as well. I guess the hardest questions are the ones that don't really "get" fiction, that treat the novel as some sort of nonfiction manqué.
Jack: Memorable interviews. There have been many. Too many, memorable for the wrong reasons. Here's one -- This was in Toronto while I was there doing the rounds to promote The Invention of the World, my second book. The Macmillan publicist seemed to have booked me onto every show in town. During the noon hour of one of those days she drove me to a radio station for a national program called "The Farm Show." Inside the station, the publicist handed the interviewer a copy of my book right in front of my eyes. The interviewer read the back flap. I knew I was on my own (once again)! So we sat across the table from one another, the red light came on, and the interviewer said, "I see this book is about the Irish in Canada. The Irish really did contribute a lot to agriculture in this country, didn't they?" I could see in her eyes that this was her one and only question and yet I had ten minutes to sit at that microphone. So I answered the question: "Yes." Then, after a pause just long enough to recognize either panic or hatred, I opened my mouth and just talked non-stop, answering all the questions she didn't ask, glad of all my classroom experience of thinking on my feet. There were many others.
Well, one more. I won't say which city. Live television interview. Beautiful glamorous interviewer. Her first comment, "You're such a wholesome writer! I think of you as the XXX of Canadian literature!" (XXX = name of famous wholesome woman singer). I don't know if it was the "wholesome" or that particular singer's reputation amongst serious music lovers that would lose me readers instantly -- or if it was just the surprise -- but I'm afraid my immediate unthinking shocked and indignant response ("My God, that's a terrible thing to say!") caused her to get the giggles, which made me laugh, which made her laugh even more and become unable to ask her first question. We tried to recover, but never did. Eventually the session ended, the producer stepped out from behind the cameras with a murderous look on his face, grabbed my arm, and held on tight while he escorted me to the door, saying "NOBODY HAS EVER DONE THAT TO HER BEFORE!" He made it clear I was not welcome at that station ever again. I have discovered that, despite many experiences like the ones I've mentioned, most interviewers are sincere, have done their preparation, and are willing to be interested in what you have to say. At the same time, it makes sense for you to go in to the interview already knowing some of the things you want to say... just in case. The really good interviewers will take you somewhere new, but it's a good idea to have something prepared anyway.
Gail: Yeah, this is great advice, Jack. I'll pass it along to my students. And I guess what I said earlier about reviews holds for interviews: in these days of disappearing book pages (and even fewer television/radio book shows), even a bad interview is a good thing.
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