The Washington Post - 28.08.2019

the washington post



wednesday, august

28

,

2019

EZ

2

BY BARBARA KINGSOLVER

To know me, you wouldn’t

guess I’m carrying on a secret life.

I go to my desk early and stay late,

making about as little noise as a

human can make while earning a

living. I’m a novelist by trade, and

in recent years also a screenwrit-

er, adapting my work to film or

television. I enjoy this new busi-

ness that marries my brain with

those of others who are skilled in

different arts, in service of beauti-

ful, accessible creations. Screen-

writing is like and unlike writing

novels: Compelling plot and char-

acters are equally crucial to page

and screen. Tension and economy

are appreciated by readers, de-

manded by viewers.

The one currency of literature

that’s of little use in screenwriting

is language. A screenplay, like a

recipe, is a set of instructions for

other creators. Apart from craft-

ed dialogue, the words them-

selves disappear. In a novel, they

last forever, so it’s worth spend-

ing weeks plumbing the right

language for drawing readers

into a scene, let’s say, on the banks

of the Congo River. The quality of

light on water, the insect whine of

the forest — I have to paint all this

into your mind using brush-

strokes of words. In a screenplay,

I need just four: EXT. CONGO

RIVER — MORNING. I may offer

specifics, but directors and de-

signers like their space. I learned

this after turning in some lyrical

early efforts and getting told in

script meetings: “Barbara, dar-

ling, less is more.”

It’s fascinating work, but lately,

something else is pulling me back

to my computer late at night. I get

carried away in such guilty plea-

sure that if my husband walks in

unexpectedly, I’m prone to click

off my screen as if hiding an

online affair or a gaming addic-

tion.

But it’s neither. I’m writing

poetry. I hadn’t realized how bad-

ly I’ve missed language, the

weight of words, their rhythms

and tastes on the tongue. Oh, I

love telling a story: beginning,

middle, end. But there’s delight in

telling a moment: the world

turned over by a sudden encoun-

ter of unacquainted thoughts.

When a poet tells me that hope

has feathers, or that life is a

loaded gun propped in the corner,

or that time holds me green and

dying though I sing in my chains

like the sea, my pulse races. Get

me up there on that tightrope

where I can write my own sun

barefooting cartwheels over the

grass. Words are heady beings

when they dance.

And because no two are exactly

alike, their partnerships are par-

ticular. Every sentence-in-prog-

ress has a hole in its heart, like a

lonely soul scouring eHarmony

for her one and only. Writing

poetry feels like that longing ful-

filled, a line at a time. Reading it

feels that way, too. Poetry books

are small by design because po-

etry is meant to be sipped slowly,

with the doors locked. It’s not

steak and potatoes. It is absinthe.

I wrote little poems as a child,

and as a college science major I

wrote them in the margins of my

textbooks. As a busy young moth-

er and journalist, then novelist, I

wrote them in the margins of my

deadlines. But now the dripping

faucet has become an open hy-

drant that wakes me night and

day, flooding me with words I try

to hold like water in my hands

until I can sneak off to my next

assignation with drafting, caress-

ing and completing a poem.

I’ve always been word-smitten.

I remember the first one I ever

read (“orange”) pulled from a

page of newsprint by force of will

and a craving for the nourish-

ment I’d watched adults sucking

from that source. I can still feel

how the word cracked open into

my brain, spilling out color and

taste. I’ve hardly put down the

printed page since, except to pro-

duce my own. I collect dictionar-

ies, try out new languages for fun

and thank my stars I was born to

read and write in this one. Eng-

lish is uniquely twice-blessed,

thanks to the Norman conquest

that brought Latinate influence

into the Anglo-Saxon tradition.

That’s how we ended up with

both Germanic and Romantic

words for all our important

things. Not interchangeable

words, but unique ones. Latin

came in from the top down, so our

language family’s two sides carry

different connotations of class

and aspiration. Think of chicken

vs. poultry; kids vs. descendants;

workshop vs. laboratory. Free-

dom vs. liberty. This rich linguis-

tic DNA gives us more and subtler

choices than most of us ever think

to use.

Certainly, it’s wasted on a line

like: “Exterior, Congo River —

Morning.” It’s no surprise that

some years of nuance deprivation

would drive me to this. I’m keep-

ing my day job. (All poets have

them.) But at 3 a.m. you’ll find me

with Emily Dickinson and Dylan

Thomas egging me on as I consid-

er whether “fixed” or “mended”

feels more trustworthy, whether

“distant” is harder to reach than

“faraway.” How the dinner party

of words I’ve organized is getting

along, and which one I should

seat at the end of a line. Whether

it will serve there as an anchor or

a detonation. This tryst is irresist-

ible. If Dylan and Emily or their

ilk ever show up at your house,

listen, I’m telling you. Lock the

door. Give them a go.

[email protected]

Barbara Kingsolver’s many novels

include “The Poisonwood Bible,”

which she is adapting as a television

miniseries. Her next book, coming in

2020, is a poetry collection.

Reigniting a love affair with words

Since a screenwriting stint, Barbara Kingsolver has been harboring a secret.

STEVEN HOPP

Author Barbara Kingsolver will discuss her work on the Main Stage at 6 p.m.

3 Main Stage

4 Fiction

5 Genre Fiction; History &

Biography

6-7 How to get the most out of your

festival experience

8 Understanding Our World

9 Poetry; International

10 Science; Children’s Green Stage

11 Children’s Purple Stage

12 Cartoon by Raina Telgemeier;

Teen Stage

INSIDE

WALTER E.

WASHINGTON

CONVENTION

K ST. CENTER

N ST.

NEW YORK AVE.

9TH ST.7TH ST.

M ST.

L ST.

2019 National

Book Festival

Aug. 31, Walter E. Washington Convention Center

Sources: National Book Festival, Maps4News THE WASHINGTON POST

1/4 MILE

Washington

Post

LEVEL THREE – SOUTH

LEVEL TWO – NORTH LEVEL TWO – SOUTH

STREET LEVEL – NORTH STREET LEVEL – SOUTH

LOWER LEVEL

L Street

Bridge

Va. D.C.

Md.

Detail

Event room Book sales and sponsors

Book signing

Book

sales

Hall A

Children’s

Green

stage

West Salon

Genre Fiction

East Salon

Fiction

Room 150

Library of

Congress stage

Room 152

International

Room 145

Poetry & Prose

Hall D

Main stage

Room 147

Science

Hall B

Children’s

Purple stage

Room 202

Teens

Ballroom A

Unserstanding

Our World

Ballroom BC

History &

Biography

COVER ILLUSTRATION BY ADRIANA PICKER FOR THE WASHINGTON POST