Flashes of War
>> Wednesday, May 1, 2013
My friend Katey Schultz has a book of flash fiction stories about the recent and on-going wars in the Middle East coming out soon, and I took time recently to ask her a few questions about it:
1)
Why flash fiction? How does the form fit the material?
Flash
fiction stories are typically 1-3 pages long. They are very short
snapshots or moments captured on the page, often showing characters
in response to a situation that out-sizes them. (Here’s a recording
of one example, titled “Poo
Mission.”) At first, I began writing about war using the flash
fiction form because I knew very little about how we were actually,
physically fighting the wars and how civilians in the Middle East
were interpreting our actions. So the size of the story represented
my limited knowledge, because I couldn’t imagine much more than a
scene or two at a time with much accuracy.
The
more I learned, the more I was able to refine my word choice in these
stories, and really build momentum and energy on the page. At that
point, I still stuck with the flash fiction form because intense,
dramatic, or traumatic situations are often remembered only in
snapshots—so that seemed right and realistic to me. It was only a
year and a half or so into my work writing about war that I had
amassed enough information and confidence to begin writing
full-length short stories on this topic.
2)
How did you research the experience of the soldiers before, during,
and after the war in the Middle East to be able to write so well
about it?
It
all started by making lists of words. I was very interested in the
language of warfare and the Global War on Terror in particular.
Giving a writer a new word is like giving a painter a new shade of
green. I really wanted to play around with things and see what I
could do. It felt empowering…but I also knew I needed to be careful
with these words, because they came with certain contexts that I had
to become familiar with. The stakes felt very high, and that made me
even more diligent in my research and also my precise imagining. If I
wrote something and it didn’t “feel” true…if I couldn’t put
my heart behind it…I deleted it. There was a lot of back and forth
of my cursor across the screen, at least initially. Eventually, I
found my way in.
To
extend my research beyond using the right words, I read twenty or so
nonfiction books about 21st
Century warfare and our wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. This was in
early 2010, so there weren’t nearly as many contemporary fiction
authors publishing about Iraq and Afghanistan as there are today; and
that was fine. I wanted to start with the facts. I watched countless
DVDs (mostly documentaries) and clips of head-cam footage on YouTube
from soldiers in ambushes or civilians in daily life. I really only
interviewed 2 soldiers in my research—one, to discuss the
day-to-day operations of life on a Forward Operating Base, and
another, to talk about the process for enlisting in the Army.
Information from the former helped me write “The Ghost of Sanchez,”
and information from the latter helped me write “Deuce Out.”
Finally,
I looked at many, many photographs using Google Images searches. I
printed these and hung them on my walls, or downloaded the images and
used them as a screen saver. In other words, I surrounded myself with
the words, images, and sounds of war as much as I possibly could
without going there…then I began to write.
3)
You not only tell stories about Americans, but about people of
Afghanistan/Iraq. How did you learn about their experiences enough to
be able to write about them?
It
took a healthy balance of research and imagination. I didn’t speak
to any Afghan or Iraqi civilians while researching the book, though I
would have liked to. I did, however, spend three weeks on a self-made
writing retreat with former foreign war correspondent Karen Button.
Her advice and knowledge were crucial as I began my first forays into
writing from a completely different cultural perspective. I think
that watching the DVDs and documentaries was also helpful to me
here—they enabled me to study gesture, tone of voice, clothing,
physical setting, and gendered interactions that I could then bring
to life in my stories. Typically, I saturated my mind with
information until the only thing left to do was start putting things
together and inventing characters that could move around and react
within the imagined spaces I was creating in my head.
There
are still so many perspectives and viewpoints that I was not able to
write. For instance, one of the stories that I chose not to publish
in the collection was written from the perspective of a suicide
bomber. Try as I might, I just never felt I could bring that piece up
to par. It was too far for my mind to go and I didn’t believe my
own words as I wrote them. So I cut the story out.
4)
You often write about children. Is there a children's book writer
inside you trying to get out? ;-)
This
has honestly never occurred to me. Wow. I do this? I suppose it takes
a strong YA author such as yourself to notice! Thank you! In another
life, I was a teacher for five years, so I’m sure that has trickled
into my writing some (as well as my work as a waitress). I will say
that I find the appearance of children in short stories to be a great
source of relief, and when you’re writing about war, it’s only
natural to want relief from that. For example, when I wrote “Into
Pure Bronze” about two, young Afghan boys playing soccer in
downtown Kabul, I was trying to write my way out of the wars. I had
been researching and writing about war for two years at that point,
maybe longer. I needed to believe my stories would have an end…and
that the wars would, also. So I specifically wrote about “the next
generation” of Afghan children and tried to imagine what their
impressions of their own country and of America would be, given all
that has taken place in their lifetimes thus far.
5)
You say in your epilogue that you chose to write about war--and this
war specifically--because you wanted to understand it better. To get
to know what it was like from the inside out. What did writing
Flashes of War teach you? What answers did you find?
For
me, every story begins with an unanswered question. Why else would I
want to write it? Because of this, I did learn a lot while writing
Flashes of War.
Personally, I changed my views on the military’s recruitment
practices, on why an individual may or may not choose to enlist, on
our nation’s obligation to our troops while they serve and once
they come home, as well as on the use of force in general. There was
a time when I didn’t understand why anyone would sign up to serve
in the U.S. Military. There was also a time when I believed that
problems could be solved without military action. But the more I
looked at these wars, the more I understood and became open to the
diversity of reasons for serving. I also became supportive of the
U.S.’s initial—very early—acts of war in Afghanistan. (Doug
Stanton’s incredible book, Horse Soldiers,
played no small part in informing and persuading me of this.)
In
the end, however, writing Flashes of War
was never about who was for or against anything. I felt genuinely
interested in examining what those of us alive today could do to help
relieve the suffering and bring awareness to the myriad impacts of
war. Winning or losing, Republican or Democrat, Sunni or Shiite,
Taliban or U.S. soldier—our tax dollars are still funding
everything from Taco Bell deliveries on base, to drone strikes, to
the rebuilding of schools for Afghan girls, to destroying weapons
caches, to providing prosthetic limbs to any one of more than 50,000
U.S. soldiers who are now amputees. As Americans and as citizens of
the world, I think that’s worth looking at and responding to.
Flashes of War is my
response.
Thanks, Katey!
Flashes of War officially pubs on May 27th, but pre-orders begin today. Click here to learn more about pre-ordering the book.
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