This year's Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers' Colorado Gold Conference will be held Sept. 5-7, in Westminster [Denver].
Among other panels and workshops, author Mario Acevedo and I will be leading one
[Sunday, 9:00am] called "Deep-six the Stereotypes: Writing Characters from
Another Culture."
Its description:
"How can writers diversify their fiction with vibrant characters from a
different culture or background so their writing attracts 21st Century readers?
Insights into what hooks / turns off agents when authors write outside their
cultural experience."
We envision our audience largely being
Anglos wanting to hear about writing non-Anglo characters. Not that I'm an
expert, but why is this Chicano author willing to help Anglo writers write
about Chicano, Latino, etc. characters? (I haven't asked Mario the same.) There
are other questions that could be asked.
Do Chicano authors have a
"responsibility" to help Anglo writers--already published more than
we are--so that they can succeed even more? Can Anglo writers do a decent
portrayal, from their non-PoC perspective and worldview? Questions could go on
and on.
They remind me of two hours I
spent in the Taos Plaza last month, during the Fiestas. I'd been there before,
seen the sites, the festivities, the shops and artwork. That part of our--wife
Carmen also went--trip was el mismo. The two hours were totally new.
I had a first edition of Milagro Beanfield War I'd wanted
autographed and author John Nichols did that earlier this year. We exchanged
surface-mail letters, I sent him my novel, he invited me down and I was to meet
him in a café near the Moby Dickens Bookshop.
The Nichols website states, "As of July, I’m 73 years
old, my heart is locked in permanent atrial fibrillation, congestive heart
failure. I'm a walking time bomb ready to have a stroke." So, initially my
intention was to do a La Bloga interview of the man who'd authored one of my
favorite books about Chicanos, written by an Anglo. Maybe even his last
interview.
When I was in the graphic/ad business, my company had
produced the artwork for the movie's Denver premier, so besides a reader-author
connection, I had remote connection to Nichols' work. The movie starred Rubén
Blades, Sonia Braga, Melanie Griffith, Christopher Walken, et al; director
Robert Redford; producers Moctesuma Esparza and Redford; Nichols did the
screenplay.
If you've never seen the movie, you should. Not only for its
humor and its background on New Mexican land/water struggles, but because it's
good. For it's time, it was great. A major motion picture laced with
Anglo/Latino talent.
After attempting to come up with
insightful interview questions to ask Nichols, at some point I gave up. It felt
artificial, irrelevant and not what I wanted to do. [Never even took a selfie
of us.] I decided to simply meet the man who wrote the novel. Chat. Discuss,
exchange stories, maybe laugh a little. Eat and drink (not that Nichols was/is
in a condition to down traguitos with me).
At the appointed hour, I expected
an old guy with a cane maybe made out of an agave stalk, hobbling or leaping
like in the movie poster. The cane was simple and plastic. The man didn't jump
around much. We ordered a bite, I'd have a couple of Negras, Nichols, some
non-alcoholic drinks. And we began.
Another writer asked me,
"What did you learn?" He meant, what great writing knowledge did I
take away from the talk. I don't know that I have anything literary to answer
to that and am not sure that I should.
In the two hours, I
saw/experienced/shared in small ways several things. That Nichols, like on his
website, holds family high on his list of achievements and experiences. That he
holds Nature and being alone in Nature--something I've written about--high on his list of how we should spend
our time on the planet, not only near the end of it.
Then there was his smile. And
eyes. Nothing that you'd expect from a casi-muerto.
What you'd expect from a twenty-year-old. What you'd expect from a kid starting
out in life with crazy expectations and hopes and decades in front of him to
accomplish anything he wanted.
I didn't expect his Spanish
accent to be so gringoly obvious. My grammar is unschooled; his is in nascent
stages of Span. 201, to be kind. But he was unashamed about using it. He didn't
blush whenever his fluency fell or vocab was a bit off; he just talked on like
a mexicano drinking unas, outside a Texas beer joint. I got
over noticing it and just went with our exchange. Of course, I wonder what he
heard in my Spanish that might've made him cringe.
If Nichols and I live long
enough, perhaps there will be an interview, not necessarily his, or my, last. I
don't know that that's that important. [yeah, 3 "that’s" and maybe
English isn't my 1st language]
How does my short
time with Nichols relate to our upcoming workshop? Mario and I could hope that
out of it came some new awareness that in the future could produce the kind of
gringos' share of the work that went into the Milagro movie. [No, I don't know what pinche petho developed during its production.] Or encourage a little
of the multi-national, multi-talented camaraderie that this country direly needs,
not only literarily. If Mario and I reach some in the audience who are/can be
such gente, then we'll have done, no milagro, but at least a little progress
in lifelike lit.
It took me two
hours to shed the nervousness of being one-on-one with a great gringo writer.
Should the two of us endure until another meet, I'll have reached the stage of
bouncing some of my crazy ideas off him, especially, about death. And what it's
probably not. Or story ideas. Or poor jokes. Or introduce my dog to him. Yeah,
maybe a little interviewing, por pendejo.
More vampiros
From Mario Acevedo's website, about the upcoming book release of Rescue from Planet Pleasure:
"If you're a
fan of Felix Gomez, you know he's got a lot hanging out there. For one, the
most bodacious vampiress of all time, his buddy Carmen Arellano, was kidnapped
by aliens and she's being held prisoner in deep space. And Phaedra, the
ruthless bloodsucking ingenue--now with extra-superpowers--is making good on
her threat to destroy the Araneum and take over the undead underworld.
"Felix is
not alone in his quest to save Carmen and stop Phaedra. That red-headed
whirlwind with a gun, Jolie, has got his back. Also appearing is everyone's
favorite down-and-out trickster sage, Coyote, and he's brought along his
mom...la Malinche...aka La Llorona! Here it comes, a big, hairy story bristling
with action, intergalactic adventure, skin-walkers, Hopi magic...all told in
tumescent PervoVision. Exactly what you'd expect from Felix Gomez. [La Bloga
note: and what you'd expect from Mario]
Es todo, hoy,
RudyG, aka
Chicano spec lit author, Rudy Ch. Garcia, Taos tourist and Nichols fan
2 comments:
Because of the precision of his Chicana/o characters, I consider John Nichols an honorary Chicano.
- Virginia Alanis, Novelist
Congrats on being on the workshop panel, Rudy. Glad to see you very active and thanks for sharing with us. - Thelma T. Reyna,
Poet Laureate, 2014-16, Altadena (CA) Library District; Independent Author; Editor & Writing Consultant
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