Name of fiction work? And were there other names you considered that you would like to share with us?The name of the book is The History of Soul 2065. It’s a collection of related short stories, what is sometimes called a mosaic novel, because each story is part of the mosaic that forms the whole. It follows two mystical Jewish families, one from Germany and one from Eastern Europe, for several generations from just before WWI through the recent past and even into our future. Originally it was titled Lost Connections, after one of the stories in which a woman goes back in time to discover what her parents were like as children. My editor (Mike Allen) felt that it made more sense to call it after the final story instead, because that is the one that brings all the others together. However, I still sometimes think of it as Lost Connections.
What is a Mosaic Novel?
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mosaic_novel
Mike Allen Facebook Page
https://www.facebook.com/time.shark
Mythic Delirium Web Site
https://mythicdelirium.com/
What is the date you began writing this piece of fiction and the date when you completely finished the piece of fiction? That’s almost impossible to say. You could say it began when the first of the stories in the book was written, which would be sometime in 2000, or when a friend (writer Carolyn Fireside) of ours suggested I try to put all the stories together in a coherent whole, which was sometime around 2015, or when I first presented it to my editor, around 2017. It was finished in 2018 and published in June 2019.
In Remembrance of Carolyn Fireside
https://krasnoff.wordpress.com/2014/06/20/carolyn-fireside-a-remembrance/
Where did you do most of your writing for this fiction work? And please describe in detail. And can you please include a photo? Some of my writing is done at the desk in my home office (when I’m stealing moments from my full-time job as an editor), but most of my fiction writing is done in the evenings, in our living room. We have an old futon couch, sagging and in need of replacement. The coffee table (which I use to prop my legs up when I type) is from the late 1950s or early 1960s; my parents bought it around the time they moved to a project in Brooklyn. I love the old-style design, but it’s badly in need of repair.
What were your writing habits while writing this work- did you drink something as you wrote, listen to music, write in pen and paper, directly on laptop; specific time of day? I’m a coffee addict, so it’s more than likely I had a cup of luke-warm coffee somewhere in the area. The music that I listen to is very varied; it could be something classical by Mozart, something from a musical by Berlin or Sondheim, Celtic folk by Steeleye Span, or 1920s / 30s popular music by Cab Calloway or Paul Whiteman. And these are just examples. It all depends on my mood. I type directly on a laptop, and I usually work after dinner or on weekends, because I do my earning-a-living stuff during the day.
Middle: Steeleye Span
Bottom from left to right: Cab Calloway and Paul Whitman
Please include just one excerpt and include page numbers as reference. This one excerpt can be as short or as long as you prefer.
From page 84-85:
She sat crossed-legged on the carpet in the study and stared at the new chair as it sat, still incongruous, next to the worn, tired wooden desk, with its web of small scratches and dents (one made by that damned lamp, which she had finally thrown out). For a moment, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Morris sitting there, tapping on his computer, leaning forward because he hated wearing his reading glasses. (His bad posture, she had told him, meant that they had spent all that money for the stupid fancy chair for nothing. Before the MRI and the doctor’s call.)
No. She rubbed her eyes, closed them for a moment, then opened them slowly and let the world go hazy.
Wood and straw. Wood painted dark brown, the original striations of the wood starting to show through where the color had worn down. The warmth of the surface, its finish almost velvety against her fingertips. The rough straw seat, curving toward where the strands met at the center, hard and spiky, dangerous little pieces popping up to prick your fingers and thighs when least expected.
Joan reached out. And felt it. The smooth, round wooden rung. The chair. Their life. She grasped it tightly and held on, not moving, And then. “You left me,” she whispered. “You went away, bit by bit, and left me.”
“I know,” said Morris. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to.”
“No,” Joan said. “I’m the one who should apologize. You went away so gradually. Just a little of you at a time. The pain was so bad, the medications so strong, that you lost reality, lost my name, lost yourself. But I was so centered on stopping the pain, on keeping you alive, that I didn’t pay enough attention. And then I realized you were no longer there, not really, and I never said goodbye. I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Morris said. “I’m not even sure how much of me is here now. But I’m glad that you told me. It’s something that I wondered about, and I’m very glad you told me.”
Why is this excerpt so emotional for you as a writer to write? And can you describe your own emotional experience of writing this specific excerpt? When somebody close to us dies, they leave behind memories in the things that they used — a marked-up book, a musical instrument, a well-worn football, an old chair. In “The Ladder-back Chair,” one of the stories that make up The History of Soul 2065, a woman who has lost her husband remembers him not through the new, modern desk chair that she bought him just before he was diagnosed with cancer, but through the old-fashioned ladder-back desk chair that they both used for years, and which she no longer has. It is when she can bring back the feel and the presence of that chair that she can also bring back the spirit of her husband.
I wrote this with the memory of my father in my mind. He and my mother had a room they called the den in which there was a small couch, a TV, a bookcase, an old-fashioned wooden secretary desk and a ladder-back chair. If I think hard enough, I can remember not only the exact placement of everything in that room, but what it felt like to sit on the couch reading or watching TV while my father sat at the desk writing letters, paying bills, or just hanging out.
Were there any deletions from this excerpt that you can share with us? And can you please include a photo of your marked up rough drafts of this excerpt. There were some minor changes. The main difference was that, since this was originally an individual short story, I changed the husband’s name from Lyle to Morris to fit the continuity of the novel.
Barbara Krasnoff has had short stories in over 45 print and online publications, including Space & Time, Andromeda Spaceways, Mythic Delirium, Abyss & Apex, and a variety of others. Her story “Sabbath Wine,” which was published in the anthology Clockwork Phoenix 5, was a Nebula Award finalist. The History of Soul 2065, her mosaic novel, follows several generations of two mystical Jewish families from the past into the future. She earns her living as Reviews Editor at The Verge. You can find her website at Brooklynwriter.com and a site with interesting background information about each of her stories at https://historyofsoul2065.com/.
https://krasnoff.wordpress.com/
All of the Inside The Emotion of Fiction LIVE LINKS can be found at the very end of the below feature:
http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2021/03/stephenson-holts-arranged-marriage-is.html
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