![\"\"](\"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2009\/08\/singah.jpg\" "\\"singah\\"")
<\/a><\/p>\nI\u2019ve been madly writing the sequel to my just-published novel Under the Table Books<\/em><\/span>. Given that only a handful of people have read Under the Table Books<\/em><\/span>, and confronted by barely discernible sales of the mighty tome, my rational mind warns me that my current literary labor is folly, that years spent on a sequel to an unknown novel will amount to yet another wasted effort, and we\u2019ve already got piles of those gathering dust.<\/span><\/p>\n What my rational mind fails to comprehend (no matter how many times I explain this to her and because logic only takes us so far) is that I do not think these things up, these stories and plays and novels, and then decide to write them down. I do not plan what I create. Nor do I consider anything I\u2019ve ever done wasted effort. What happens for me, and has been happening since I was a little boy, is that I hear a story being told to me and I see a movie unfurling as I hear the words, and my mission, if I choose to accept it, is to transcribe what I\u2019m experiencing as vividly and musically as I can. I say musically<\/em><\/span> because my taste runs to prose that swings to consistent and compelling rhythms.<\/span><\/p>\n I have written other sequels to other books I\u2019ve published, though I have yet to publish a sequel, so I certainly understand the concern of the pragmatic sector of my brain as it worries about the aging corpus laboring over a saga that may never be published and may never bring us money or something we can trade for food and shelter. And if that\u2019s the case, why bother? In all honesty, I bother because despite the latest data from my personal commerce department, I find the thickening plot and the seductive characters irresistible and I can\u2019t wait to read what I write down next. I\u2019m hooked. <\/span><\/p>\n When I lived in Berkeley some years ago I was in range of three or four radio stations that presented bestselling and\/or academically anointed fiction writers talking about their latest books and their lives and how they went about writing. Some of these writers spoke at length about what their books meant<\/em><\/span>, which always made me uneasy. Even more disturbing to me was that the vast majority of these writers claimed to know what<\/em><\/span> they were going to write before they started writing. They actually thought things out ahead of time and got their ducks in a row in a barrel before they started shooting. They said things like, \u201cI thought I\u2019d like to write a book about\u2026\u201d Or \u201cI knew I could sell this if I set it in Venice and opened with a scene in which\u2026\u201d Or \u201cGardening and cooking and infidelity are all the rage right now, so I decided\u2026\u201d All of which were ways of thinking I considered antithetical to originality and intuitive creativity.<\/span><\/p>\n But as depressing as all that intellectual hoo ha was to me, the thing almost all of them did that made me want to smack them with a bamboo pole, was to claim they were speaking for other writers. They would employ phrases such as \u201cevery serious writer eventually discovers\u2026\u201d or \u201cof course any good writer will tell you\u2026\u201d or \u201cthe best writers always\u2026\u201d or \u201cone should never\u2026\u201d and many other repulsive and stupid things; thus I surmised their books would be poo poo.<\/span><\/p>\n So what does that have to do with me writing a sequel to my virtually unknown novel? Everything! And should I ever be asked to speak about my writing process, I will say essentially what I\u2019ve just written here, though I will do my best to let my characters speak for themselves. <\/span><\/p>\n A Brief Excerpt From the Sequel to Under the Table Books<\/em><\/p>\n Natasha\u2014tall, brown, graceful, and vastly pregnant\u2014stands behind the bookstore counter reciting the lyrics of the Under the Table Books anthem to Hansel and Gretel Hosenhoffer of Stuttgart, a middle-aged couple in heavy gray tweeds blowing through California on a whirlwind tour of esoteric bookstores of the western hemisphere\u2014Hansel sporting an ebony monocle, Gretel wearing a necklace of tortoise shell reading glasses.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>\u201cAll books are free,\u201d intones Natasha, her voice deep and sonorous. \u201cIf you want to leave something you value as much as the book you\u2019re taking, cool. Have a book you don\u2019t want? Drop it on by. And don\u2019t get us wrong. We enjoy receiving stacks of quarters and piles of dollar bills. We delight in all forms of currency, including tasty comestibles. Yes, and keep those potted plants coming. May all beings be well read.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>Hansel Hosenhoffer frowns quizzically. \u201cFrom zis you make a living?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>\u201cAmazing but true,\u201d says Natasha, resting her hands on the drum of her belly, her soon-to-be-born baby kicking gently in 4\/4 time. \u201cThe kindness of book lovers knows no bounds.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>Gretel Hosenhoffer smiles in mild horror at the foundational implications of the anarchist bookstore. \u201cBut how does anyone determine the worth of anything?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>\u201cYour guess is as good as mine,\u201d says Natasha, moving out from behind the counter to join Bobo in the Reading Circle where he has been waiting patiently for her to read to him from his current favorite book The Adventures of a Naughty Boy Named Knocker and His Trusty Sidekick Poo Poo Head.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>The bell above the door jangles and Iris Spinelli dashes in out of the rain. A spry ninety-four, her curly white hair sprinkled with gold glitter, her leotard blue, her slender frame draped with seven purple scarves, Iris is wending her way home from the weekly gathering of the Society of Impersonators of Famous People (formerly the East Side Philatelists Association.) Iris is currently impersonating the interpretive dancer Isadora Duncan (1878-1927). Last week she was the movie star Claudette Colbert (1905-1996).<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>\u201cZ around?\u201d asks Iris, going up on her toes to kiss Natasha\u2019s cheek. \u201cHow\u2019s baby today?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>\u201cShe\u2019s a busy girl,\u201d says Natasha, smiling down at her swollen belly. \u201cZ gets home tomorrow from the Frankfurt book fair. Having way<\/em><\/span> too much fun, if you ask me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAll morning,\u201d says Iris, gazing into Natasha\u2019s eyes, \u201cI\u2019ve been hearing a fabulous three-part harmony for The Look of Love<\/em><\/span>. You and me and Z.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>\u201cLet\u2019s do our parts now,\u201d says Natasha, lowering herself into a big armchair. \u201cSo when Z gets home, we\u2019ll have it down.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n <\/span>Iris smiles sublimely and hums a warbling note to set the key. Natasha breathes deeply of the trembling tone and eases into harmony with Iris\u2014every molecule of the old building vibrating in sympathy with Iris\u2019s quavering alto and Natasha\u2019s superlative soprano, the blend of their voices unspeakably sweet. <\/span><\/p>\n Hansel and Gretel look up from their respective books\u2014he leafing through Goethe, she inhaling Rilke\u2014each moved to tears by the unfettered magnificence of the choir of two.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I\u2019ve been madly writing the sequel to my just-published novel Under the Table Books. Given that only a handful of people have read Under the Table Books, and confronted by barely discernible sales of the mighty tome, my rational mind warns me that my current literary labor is folly, that years spent on a sequel […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[106,103,107,108,105,77,99,104,100,102,98,33,101,109],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=67"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=67"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=67"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=67"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}