Creative Discipline

A few months ago, I read The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolano, a novel that follows an underground poetry movement and all the people connected to it. It's a heavy read on one hand because there are so many different narratives and it jumps around location-wise, but the writing is so raw and engaging, it's not at all hard to get into. I started a much "lighter" novel called Cease To Blush afterward and I couldn't get into it because the writing seemed immature and cluttered compared to Bolano's clear-cut prose.

In the introduction to The Savage Detectives, I read about Bolano's last novel, 2666, which he wrote before his death in 2003. I was in Pages this morning and saw the recently translated English edition, which is close to 1,000 pages. Apparently Bolano was determined to finish it before he died of liver disease.

A guy who can write an epic novel while close to his death bed—now that's impressive. I can't even comprehend that kind of discipline or uninhibited creativity. (Especially when I think about the screenplay I've been meaning to write for the past two years...). I'm going to try and think about Bolano when I'm feeling lazy and uninspired, and flip through a few pages of The Savage Detectives when I want to be reminded of really good writing. And I'm going to get around to reading 2666—see The New York Times review here.