Surreal. Absurd. Brilliant. Satirical. Insightful. D. Harlan Wilson is as difficult to define as his writing. Perhaps this is his strongest advantage. In a world inundated with the literarily mundane, Wilson’s work truly stands out for its distinctiveness. Wilson challenges his readers and pulls them into a world that is not quite their own. Sometimes entrancing, sometimes unsettling, this world where irrealism holds sway is Wilson’s playground. And such a vast and intriguing playground it is. Over the last few years, he has published well over 100 stories in a variety of small press publications and anthologies. The expansive bibliography includes The Kafka Effect (2001), Stranger on the Loose (2003), Irrealities (2003), and Pseudo-City (2005). Currently, he is completing a speculative fiction novel, Dr. Identity, which will be released in early 2007 by Raw Dog Screaming Press.
D. Harlan Wilson has worked a wide variety of jobs, such as casino dealer, salesman, actor, and garbage man. Many of these experiences have influenced his writing, especially his time spent as a professional flâneur. In 2005, he received his Ph.D. in English at Michigan State University where he now teaches two writing courses (Introduction to Fiction and Science Fiction Literature in English). He continues to write prolifically. He also serves as the editor-in-chief for an alternative fiction journal, The Dream People. One of his major influences is his wife, Xtine, a Ph.D. candidate in English, who he bounces his ideas off regularly.
Wilson’s work defies traditional description. Fortunately for us, he was happy to sit down to discuss his writing and views on literature. The Rose & Thorn staff would like to thank Dr. Wilson for his patience and candor.
R&T: In your own words, how would you describe “irreal fiction”? Why did you choose to write in this genre?
Harlan Wilson: Here’s a short definition: Irreal fiction combines dreamlike imagery with an absurdist sentimentality in order to represent and expose the latent desires and perversions of the human condition. It depicts imaginary worlds in which the cause and effect schema that you and I are subject to in the real world is sometimes subtly, sometimes brazenly out of whack. And yet effective irreal fiction connects with readers, reminding them of their own existence and experience. The ideal irreal fiction, in my opinion, both alienates readers and provokes them to empathize with its characters—ideally against their will. That’s why I write it. Irrealism lets me experiment and play with narrative as much as with readerly expectations. In terms of marketability, this is probably a bad thing: most readers don’t like to be fucked with. But somebody’s gotta do it, right?
R&T: What do you believe is the core concept behind literature?
Harlan Wilson: I actually posed a similar question to my students recently. I asked them what the purpose of reading and studying literature was. One said it was a means of escape and entertainment. Another said it was a way to develop a firmer grasp and use of language. Another said studying literature cultivated critical thinking and writing skills. My take is that literature functions as the most vivid representation of the process of human interaction, production and destruction on literal and figurative levels. Not only does it represent the actual, physical goings-on of daily life, it represents psychological goings-on, something that most of us aren’t privy to (except for a smidgen of our own subjective psychological goings-on). I tried to make the argument that literature provides a better spectrum of reality than reality itself. My students didn’t care much for that piece of postmodern logic.
R&T: Discuss your thoughts on the difference between literary writing and marketable writing.
Harlan Wilson: I associate marketable writing with genre fiction: the horror of Stephen King, the fantasy of Terry Pratchett, the mystery/suspense of James Patterson and John Grisham, the detective fiction of Patricia Cornwall, the countless bodice-ripping romances that made Fabio famous—stuff that’s written quickly and makes a ton of cash. Literary fiction I associate with authors who have degrees in M.F.A. programs. In my experience, this writing tries too hard to be clever, critical, allegorical, understated, lyrical, serious—“literary.” It is the realm of the artiste. But I’m making a generalization. There are market-savvy and literary fictions that I find compelling. Still, I don’t read either variety that often. There’s a formula, however implicit or explicit, inherent in each of them, and one of my primary tasks as a writer is to transcend formulaic structures and craft narratives that chart new territories. This puts me in an isolated position. But thankfully I’m isolated with a rapidly growing community of alternative writers and artists who, like me, are invested in generating innovative modes of literary expression. Last year I took over as editor-in-chief of an online journal of bizarro literature and criticism called The Dream People (www.dreampeople.org) to further this project.
R&T: When writing, do you prefer poetry or prose?
Harlan Wilson: Prose. Without a doubt. I started writing poetry. Bad poetry. I managed to publish a few pieces in small literary magazines back in the early 90s. When I started writing fiction, though, my poetry production deteriorated. It eventually disappeared altogether. I enjoy teaching poetry now, but I don’t read it for pleasure. Traditional poetry anyway. For me, it’s a dead form. A form that died with modernist poets like T.S. Eliot, Mina Loy, William Carlos Williams, Langston Hughes and Ezra Pound. Unless, that is, we take into consideration the poet laureates of today’s world: rappers. I’m not a big fan of Eminem or 50 Cent but I love Snoop Dog and the Beastie Boys. And I’ll jam to old schoolers like Run-D.M.C., the Fat Boys, Whodini, Kurtis Blow, L.L. Cool-J (before he started acting), and the illimitable Sugar Hill Gang any day of the week! But I shouldn’t discount poetry altogether. I do enjoy reading prose poetry. I write it myself, although I prefer to call it flash fiction. As a writer, I think my main objection to poetry is that it doesn’t lend me the pleasure of world-creation. Many of my stories are set in irreal universes that both remind us of our own diegetic reality and take us to new places. I populate these places with characters that essentially allow me to explore the absurd variables of human relations and desires. That’s something I can’t do in poetry.
R&T: Does what you read differ from what you write? What do you like to read in general?
Harlan Wilson: For the most part, what I read differs from what I write, especially in that what I read is related to my teaching. As a relatively new and untenured professor, I don’t have much of a choice in the courses that are given to me. I mainly teach introductory literature and writing courses featuring canonical authors—Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fiztgerald, Toni Morrison, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Arthur Miller, and so on. That’s not always the case, though. Last semester I taught Lance Olsen’s speculative novel 10:01 in a media studies course, and this semester I’m teaching Steve Aylett’s bizarro novel Slaughtermatic in a science fiction course. During the semester I try to do as much outside reading as I can. And I try to read different things. Most of the novels I begin I don’t finish: I’m too easily bored, especially by genre stuff, and my attention span is a joke. But occasionally I make it to the end of novels. I’m almost finished with Haruki Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, an excellent piece of irrealism. I like popular nonfiction and history, too. I’m inching through David McCullough’s 1776 and Erik Larson’s Devil in the White City now. The best book I’m reading now is Lynch on Lynch, a collection of interviews with David Lynch, my favorite filmmaker. I also read (and reread) a bunch of postmodern theory on the sly—particularly Deleuze and Guattari’s work on capitalism and schizophrenia and lately Georges Bataille’s work on eroticism, sex and death. In short, I try to be well-rounded in my reading. But there are literally tons of books I’d like to crack open that I’ll never get around to. That’s the way it goes.
R&T: Do you prefer flash fiction to longer story forms? Is writing flash fiction easier or more difficult than larger projects?
For awhile I preferred writing flash fiction. I think I still do. It’s certainly easier for me to produce than longer pieces, and I don’t have to worry about things like character development and plot. I’m a feverish reviser and extremely nitpicky about diction, style and syntax. The revision process takes a long time for me; on occasion I’ll think about the use or arrangement of words or specific sentences for days at a time. This is a luxury I don’t have with the novel I’m writing now, Dr. Identity—unless I want to spend the next ten years of my life fine-tuning the bastard! Not to say that I don’t revise it. Just not as militantly as I revise my flash fiction. Fact is, writing novels scares me. Trying to keep everything in order as it grows bigger and more unruly is an anxious chore. But I’m learning to appreciate the novelistic form more and more as I near the end of Dr. Identity. I plan to start writing another one this summer.
R&T: What drives you to write?
Harlan Wilson: There are several reasons why I write. One is a cliché: I write to give breath to my inner demons in an act of therapeutic splendor . . . Something like that. Writing also furthers my career as an academic: the more I publish, the more money I make and the better teaching gigs I get. I also enjoy the continual struggle of striving to perfect a craft that I’ve devoted my life to. More than these things, though, I find the real world extremely dull, and fiction provides me with a space to create people, places and things that both amuse and educate me about myself and society. I write largely to entertain myself. It’s really just another way of playing with Star Wars figures for me. I had them all as a kid, from the first three movies at least, including all the vehicles and the Death Star! I spent endless hours creating esoteric scenarios in which the figures would suffer, strategize, make wisecracks, succumb to insecurities, fall in love and, more than anything, kick each other’s asses. Now I do that in my writing. You could say I’m just a child playing an adult. My wife does sometimes. But I don’t think my experience is unique. As I see it the world is just a romper room full of children playing adults. Especially the mediatized world.
R&T: How do you remain so prolific? Do you have any techniques to overcome writer’s block? Is it even a problem to begin with?
Harlan Wilson: There are times when I don’t want to write and when the writing comes out in sluggish coughs and burps. Sometimes the very idea of writing frightens me. I feel like when I get to it nothing will come out. Or, if something does come out, it’ll be crummy. This fear typically nails me when I’m beginning a new story or chapter. But I don’t really get writer’s block. I have a kind of writer’s block phobia. I suppose it’s the doppelgänger of my writing phobia. When I’m thinking about writing (but not actually writing) and I sense a lack of ideas or direction, I stop whatever I’m doing, sit down and brainstorm or visit my old journals until something comes to me and I’m able to put it together in a string of words that satisfies me, if only temporarily. So I’m afraid to write, and I’m afraid not to write. And that’s what keeps me writing.
R&T: When and why did you decide to attempt your first novel, Dr. Identity?
Harlan Wilson: Dr. Identity will actually be the fourth novel I’ve written. Before short stories and flash fiction writing, I focused on novels. The first one I wrote was a sort of sequel to A Clockwork Orange. I, Alex, I called it. The other two were science fiction oddities that I finished but never saw fit to submit for publication. I still find them grossly inadequate, although they have some redeeming qualities, I think. At the time I just didn’t have the skill and I hadn’t found my voice yet. Then I started reading Franz Kafka’s shorter works. His quirky, nightmarish vignettes deeply resonated with me. It was 1997 and I was working on my M.A. degree in Science Fiction Studies at the University of Liverpool. I put my novels aside and started writing short stories and submitting them to magazines. The response was a shitstorm of rejections—most of them well-deserved. But eventually I began to publish things. My first publication, “An Unleashing,” appeared in a now defunct online magazine called Liquid Fiction. Basically it was about a guy who yanked himself inside-out by the tongue. After that the rejections continued to pour in, but I got more hits, and suddenly I was publishing fiction on a regular basis. Shortly after establishing a small base of publications, I was solicited by Eraserhead Press to put out a collection of my work. The product was The Kafka Effekt (2001). Two years later I published Stranger on the Loose (2003), another collection of short fiction illustrated by Simon Duric. Raw Dog Screaming Press published my most recent collection, Pseudo-City (2005), a group of interrelated stories set in the same irreal, futuristic metropolis. Since then I’ve returned to the novelistic form, feeling comfortable for the first time in that much larger narrative space. It’s been almost a ten year hiatus for me from composing novels, but things are going well, and the manuscript of Dr. Identity is almost complete. This is the standard description I’ve written for it: Dr. Identity is a speculative fiction novel about a society in which people substitute themselves with android look-alikes in virtually every walk of life so that they can pursue their true passion: the art of being useless. Raw Dog Screaming Press is publishing it in 2007.
R&T: As an English professor, do you believe that literary rules are set in stone or a general guide for writers?
Harlan Wilson: There are certain rules I think are set in stone, or at least important. Stories must have a central conflict, for instance, and they should have gripping, attention-grabbing introductions and conclusions. A use of specific detail is essential. And I always insist that my creative writing students SHOW rather than TELL, providing descriptive context for a scene or situation that allows for an understanding of an event or character in the absence of mere exposition. This is imperative for flash fiction. You only have so much room to work with, after all—one sentence or paragraph to two double-spaced pages, give or take. I’m working with a student in an independent study this semester who has difficulty writing short pieces and tempering her use of exposition; she writes loooooooong stories containing information that either doesn’t need to be there or that could be articulated more concisely. Her latest assignment is to write a flash fiction that contains no exposition at all and is purely descriptive. Overall I encourage students to be aware of certain literary rules but to embrace a freedom of expression. For beginners it can be a difficult concept to grasp. But practice, practice, practice, practice, practice . . . makes perfect. Well, not perfect—no fiction is perfect. The idea is to manically approach perfection until a writer feels a piece of fiction is garbage-worthy or tolerable. That, incidentally, is how I feel about most of my published fictions: they’re tolerable. This doesn’t account for the fictions I’ve published that, in retrospect, I find intolerable. But I think that’s a fairly common experience among writers.
R&T: Where do you prefer to do the majority of your writing?
Harlan Wilson: I prefer to write at home, but these days I write all over the place. My wife and I currently live in a two-bedroom duplex in Lansing. She’s a Ph.D. candidate in English at Michigan State University and one of the bedrooms is our office. When I was writing my dissertation in 2005, the office belonged to me and I spent most of my time there. Now my wife is writing her dissertation and the office belongs to her. If I write at home, I do it on my laptop sitting at the kitchen table or lying on the couch. But I also write at coffee shops, bookstores, bars, in my car—wherever and whenever I can fit it in. My teaching schedule is hectic this year and sometimes I write in fifteen minute increments. I’m lucky if I get a full hour in. But I always try to write every day.
R&T: Pen or pencil?
Harlan Wilson: Neither. If I’m not composing on my laptop, I use a sentient, genetically enhanced crayon that critiques me whenever I write something it finds objectionable . . .
For more on
D. Harlan Wilson
and his work visit his website .
Canadian-born, Jason Fryer never thought he’d end up becoming a Texan, but fate is funny that way. Although a writer at heart, he also enjoys eating. As such, he has worn many hats over the last few years, including security guard, test subject, editorial assistant, and donut maker. Most recently, he has become the grant coordinator for a cell biology department of a major Texas University. Over fourteen years of freelance writing, Jason has been published in a variety of magazines, journals, and textbooks. At the moment, he is finishing his second novel and hopes to have it ready for publication sometime next year. He also serves as the Content Producer for the Rose & Thorn newsletter.
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