All language subtitles for Masterclass David Sedaris Teaches Storytelling and Humor - 12.David s Influences

[MUSIC PLAYING]

There are folk artists
who live in the forest

and maybe never went to
school and never owned

a pair of shoes, and they
can take a tree stump,

and they can put eyes
on it made out of rocks,

and they can create something
that will make you weep,

that will genuinely move you.

But there's no such
thing as a folk writer.

You can't write unless you read.

I was never a big
reader when I was

in high school and
junior high school.

I would read the
books that we had

to read for school, but
it wasn't my inclination

then to read for a book--

I mean, to reach for a book.

I wanted to be a
visual artist, so I

would spend time
with my room drawing

horrible, horrible drawings.

And then I branched out into
horrible, horrible paintings.

Never had any talent
for it, worked on it

the way I work on writing
now, never improved.

It didn't stop me.

But it wasn't
until I dropped out

of college that I
started reading.

And I was living in a small
town in Oregon in a trailer,

and I had no friends, and I
went to the public library,

and I got a library card.

And I started by reading
"Babbitt" by Sinclair Lewis

because that was
something we were

supposed to read in high
school, and I didn't read it.

So I started by
reading the books

that we were supposed
to read in school,

and then I just sort
of branched out.

And the way that--

I would find a
book that I liked,

and then I would look
at who blurbed the book,

and then I would
read their books.

So that's how I
discovered people.

I didn't really
have anybody who--

now I've got plenty of people
in my life who will say,

oh, you need to read the
new Ann Patchett novel,

oh, you need to
read this and that,

and they're people
who I trust, and I'm

very grateful for
the recommendations.

But back then I was just
sort of going at it blind.

And one of the authors who I
discovered early on who meant

a lot to me was Raymond Carver.

And one of the reasons was
that his sentences were

very simple and very short.

And he was the kind of
person that you could read

and you would think,
I can do this.

There are no semicolons.

There aren't even
a lot of commas.

The people that
he wrote about, I

felt as if I knew those
people, and I thought,

wow, you can just write
about people like that?

They don't have to
be fancy people?

They don't have to be
necessarily bright people?

And when I read over
Raymond Carver now,

I don't love him so much.

I mean, I don't dislike him, but
I can understand as a young man

what I saw there and
what was so encouraging

to me about his writing.

And I think that's really good
when you're first starting off,

to start with somebody who
makes writing seem possible.

And again, you read Raymond
Carver and you think,

I can do this, and
then you realize,

oh, I actually can't because
I don't have a story to tell.

But I think, also, it's really
normal when you first start off

as a writer that you
imitate other writers,

and that's perfectly OK.

It's just normal.

You do the same with visual art.

But I went to art school.

I didn't go to
school for writing.

I went to art school.

And the very first
story that I wrote,

short story that I
wrote, the school

gave me a grant to turn it
into a book to publish a book.

And when I say that,
I mean make 30 copies.

And I'd type set it, and
every copy was different,

and I made a cover for each one.

And I've always kept in
touch with my writing teacher

from college, a man
named Jim McManus.

And I saw him a
couple of years ago,

and he said, you know, I still
think about that "Atlas,"

that story that
you wrote, and it

was such a hysterical spot-on
parody of a Raymond Carver

story.

And I was mortified
because that's

exactly what it reads like.

I was just trying to be him.

And it's flattering
that the teacher would

think that I had sat
down to write a parody,

that it was that
good, but, in fact, I

thought I was being myself.

There's a story called
"Applause, Applause"

by Jean Thompson that I read
in an anthology in the 1980s.

And the ending of that, I--

"and so it begins, the
sorting and testing of words.

Remember that words
are things which,

when tinkered with
properly, can represent

the cresting blood, the
fine, living net of nerves,

defying rain or even joy.

It can be done."

That story meant so much
to me when I first read it,

and I absolutely love
going back and reading it.

I can't read it enough times.

Jean Thompson is a writer who--

a short story writer,
and she writes novels

as well-- who just I've
always thought the world of.

Amy Hempel's "In the Cemetery
Where Al Jolson is Buried"

is something that I read
so many times that I've

memorized the ending of that.

Tobias Wolff's "In the
Garden of the North American

Martyrs," the very
beginning of the story

and the ending of the
story-- and his story

"Bullet in the Brain" the same.

And they're endings
that are made of words,

and I know that sounds goofy
because if you're writing,

it's always--

if you're telling a
story, it's made of words.

But, I mean, there's not a
dramatic ending to the story.

None of the endings are
summing up what you've heard.

They're just going to
a completely new place.

They're not endings that you
could have predicted when

you started reading this story.

And I guess they're just
beautiful arrangement of words

more than anything else.

Just to know that endings
that great are possible,

it just gives you something
to aspire to, I suppose.

When I go on tour, I always
recommend somebody else's book,

and I hold it up, and I
read out loud from it,

and I encourage
people to buy it.

And it gives the evening
sort of a different flavor

because I'm reading from
something that isn't mine.

Sometimes I wonder
what the person

would think if they
were in the audience

and they heard me reading
it, if they would think,

oh my god, he's reading that
all wrong or his idea of me

is so completely wrong, his
idea of who I am as a writer.

I suppose that's
always possible.

Often I invite the
writer to come with me.

Akhil Sharma is a writer
who I think the world of,

and he's written several novels
in a short story collection

and is a magnificent
reader of his own work.

One time, Otessa
Moshfegh came with me,

who wrote an amazing
novel called "Eileen"

and wrote a short
story collection called

"Homesick for
Another World" that

is one of the funniest books--

short story collections
that I've ever read.

And she's funny in
an interesting way.

You never catch her
going like that.

Don't you think that's funny?

It's just not the kind
of funny writer she is.

I don't know that she
considers herself to be funny.

But the things that happen in
her stories are so strange.

I find myself shocked, and I
find myself laughing out loud

and always look forward
to something new by her.

Wells Tower-- my goodness, I--

is a short story writer
who I admire so much.

Ann Patchett-- somebody
I think the world of.

I like listening to Roxanne
Gay's "Hunger" essay

collection, just this
exact sort of thing

that I love because
it made me realize--

it just made me aware of so
many things I don't think about.

Andrew Greer-- his
novel "Less" was funny.

It was exactly what I like.

It was funny and
funny and funny,

and then it was just so
profound near the end.

You thought, gosh, where
did that come from?

And you're just
sort of devastated

at the end of the book.

Gosh, there's so many.

I feel like I'm giving
an Academy Award speech

and I don't want to
leave anybody out.

It's hard to think
of it right now.

But if you look in
the workbook, there's

a list of some of my
other favorite writers.