Mark Haskell Smith
"A likable American writer." -- The Guardian
Mark Haskell Smith is the author of six novels with one-word titles including Moist, Salty, and Blown; as well as three works of non-fiction, most recently Rude Talk in Athens: Ancient Rivals, the Birth of Comedy, and a Writer’s Journey Through Greece. His work has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, Alta, Literary Hub, and others. He is an associate professor in the MFA program for Writing and Writing for the Performing Arts at the University of California Riverside, Palm Desert Graduate Center. He lives in Los Angeles. His seventh novel, Mémoires, translated by Julien Gueríf, is forthcoming from Editions Gallmeister in France in June 2024.
What has been the most surprising aspect for you about publishing?
My tenth book, Memoir: a novel, is coming out in France this June (there is no English edition planned as yet), so not a lot about publishing surprises me anymore. But seeing the finished product is a nice reminder that there are a lot of people involved in bringing a book to readers: the agents and editors, designers and marketing people, publicists, and booksellers. It takes a village, as they say, and their work is what makes it happen. I’m always surprised by—and have real gratitude for—their collective enthusiasm.
What’s the best writing advice you were ever given?
Samuel Beckett’s Try Again. Fail Better is the best advice for the artistic life ever given. I mean, it’s all you can do, really. But the other advice I follow is from my former agent who said: Let your freak flag fly. That’s a good rule of thumb.
What’s the worst?
Kill your darlings. To take something that you really like— an idiosyncratic phrase or a transgressive scene or an eccentric character, something that is an expression of your authentic voice and the way you see the world—and cut it in service of plot. It’s like taking the spice out of a recipe so you won’t offend bland palates. It’s the cottage-cheesification of art, the mediocritization of culture. This kind of hokum is endemic in writing classes. And it’s lazy. It’s really terrible advice.
What have you read lately that you wholeheartedly recommend?
The Sleepwalkers by Scarlet Thomas and Say Hello to My Little Friend by Jennine Capó Cruset. Both of these books take fresh approaches to narrative and the stories are unhinged in the best possible way. You haven’t read books like these before.
How about an older book—five years or more?
Vagablonde by Anna Dorn is an underrated comic masterpiece. If there is a funnier and more caustic writer exploring the lives of Angelenos, I haven’t found them. And I’ll Sell You a Dog by Juan Pablo Villalobos, which deals with art and aging, sex and music, politics and tacos. All the important stuff.
How far will you read before you stop or do you finish every book you begin?
I usually give a book 30 pages. But sometimes…. you just know it’s not hitting you the way you want it to and it is totally okay to put the book down. Life’s too short.
When you begin a draft, does it go straight onto the computer or do you start with a table and pen or pencil, or typewriter, or…..
I keep a notebook, a Leuchtturm, for ideas and details and kind of organizing the structure as I go. I don’t outline, but I typically have a few notes about the next three or four scenes scribbled down to kind of point me in a direction. Then I work straight onto my computer. I use Ulysses writing software, which I really like.
What do you do when you hit a wall?
I take a walk.
What are you currently obsessed with?
Lately, I’ve been reading Seneca and Marcus Aurelius and Epicurus, kind of giving myself the classical education I never bothered with when I was younger. Comparing them with Marx and Sartre and thinking about how individual actions can help bring about a society based on principles of humanism. Sarah Bakewell’s Humanly Possible is a great book that talks about that. I’m also obsessed with tattoo art and tattoos. And Pilates. I’d do Pilates every day if I could.
What is a question no one asks that you wish they would? Ask and answer it.
Why write comedies?
I talk about this extensively in my most recent book: Rude Talk in Athens. Throughout history, comedy has been a way to address injustice, explore the human condition, and speak critically to the powerful without getting your head chopped off. Although there are no guarantees that you won’t get decapitated. It can be a powerful force for social justice. Comedy is almost a devotional practice, a way of seeing and reframing the world. How else can you make sense of the absurdity of capitalism and the destruction of the environment? Which are not laughing matters, obviously, but my hope is that through lightness and laughter maybe we can reveal some deeper truths, capture some hearts and minds, and change the world. Or at least fail better.
I found it really interesting that his latest novel is being published in France first. I recently met an author whose books are being published in Britain (she's American). I wonder how common this is (for first editions)?