I recently finished reading your novel, Solitaire, and was astonished at how good it was. But youâve probably already heard the same many times, so Iâll be more specific.
First, the plot rang true. Iâve spent my adult life working for a single, large corporation. Theyâve provided interesting work, have treated me well, and Iâm a loyal company man. Probably thatâs how affairs will continue until I either die or retire. Yet I know that if, for some bizarre reason, the welfare of the company depended on me being crushed and humiliated, then so it would be. Just as in your story, there would be no malice, there would even be kindness to the degree possible, but it would be done.
Second, your characters came to life. Again, thatâs pretty general, so more specifically⦠I was able to dislike and yet feel sorry for Jackalâs mom. I felt, even at first introduction, a simultaneous dislike and grudging admiration of both Gavin and Crichton â the same kind of feeling Iâve gotten in person when talking to executives, not being able to help admiring them even when I know damn well I’m being manipulated. And, I got teary-eyed at Jackalâs and Snowâs reunion.
Third, the book was joyful. Most great novels are â even if reading academic reviews would make you think theyâre gloomy and ponderous. And what I most want to say is that I enjoyed the optimism of your novel and hope that your future work is similar in that respect. Please understand that Iâm not trying to give fan guidance on what you ought to write. Iâm just offering a thought, a hope, and letting you know what about your work appealed to me. But life can be painful at times and, during those times, coming across a living, breathing, believably optimistic story about what it is to be a human can be a very big deal.
Last, I wanted to let you know that Iâm a middle aged, straight, more-or-less conservative research scientist (your Crichton would call me a lab coat nerd if she were in a good mood). If you were able to make your story gripping to someone so different than how you describe yourself, then Iâm guessing that the appeal of your writing must be nigh well universal.
Best Wishes,
J.
P.S. I saw that you used to be an executive at Wizards Of The Coast. My younger daughter has been a Pokémon fan for several years now. Congratulations on your marketing.
For me, one of the most complex treatments of ambivalence to create in Solitaire was the corporate culture. I have few mixed feelings about bad companies â they just suck, you know? But the good ones are less easily labeled. I spent five years in executive positions at Wizards of the Coast (which was for me an excellent experience in general, although astonishingly hard in particular moments), and in various positions at smaller companies before that (almost uniformly Suck City). The thing that made Wizards an excellent place for me was not that it was seamlessly good, or smart, or efficient. It wasn’t (oh, the stories….). But it was a place where a person of skill could, given a good manager, create an excellent experience for herself. Perhaps this is the best we can hope for, this combination of opportunity and support, but I have to believe it can be better than that, or at least more organized. When I led the project management team at Wizards, I tried to carve out a space in the company in which anyone could have an excellent experience. I expect that not everyone did, but I do believe that project management was considered a “better” part of the company to work in because of the way we built the team.
I get restless and impatient when people talk about corporations being “evil” and “greedy” and “heartless.” Corporations are big stews of people who often make uninformed or unimaginative or fearful decisions, which is just as bad in effect but makes a difference to me on some level. I find stupidity more forgivable, or at least more easily rectified, than evil or greed. What’s interesting is that I’m much more willing to characterize whole corporations as “supportive of employees” or “socially conscious” or “learning organizations” â I don’t have so much trouble with these kinds of generalizations. I think this is because for a whole corporation to be perceived as actively “good” in some way, a lot of people have to make a conscious agreement about how to behave and then live up to it on a daily basis. Chaos requires less consciousness and courage than order (or kindness).
I think joy and hope also require consciousness. Hope is almost always a choice to value oneself, in my experience, and joy is almost always a choice to celebrate value in oneself or the world. Maybe it’s that order and kindness and hope and joy are connecting forces, and fear is disconnecting. Maybe it’s that simple. What do you think?
Anyway, as a writer I’m interested in connection. I will write about fear and sorrow and the fractures within, and between, people because that’s part of the human terrain that I map in all my work. But I believe in joy and hope and growth and love. They are things I’d like to see more of in the world, and I hope I am never so sundered from them that I would want to write a book designed to separate the reader from them as well. I can imagine it. Nicola and I have talked about what might happen to our writing if the other died, and I can see the bitter books that I might wish to unleash on the world. I think I’d probably have a talent for making those people real too, and perhaps there would be some value in it, but I don’t like to read those books, and it would be a challenge to write one that I could be proud of. But I can imagine a state of soul in which it would seem like the thing to do. And if it were a choice between writing something like that and not writing at all…. well, those are the interesting questions, aren’t they?
I’m guessing that Crichton would only call you a lab coat nerd if you did something she didn’t like (grin). And I’m glad you liked the book. Cheers.
Kelley, you get such lovely letters from readers. As it often happens to me with your Virtual Pint archives, I wonder if J. is around, and if he would come chat with us.
Suck City… not a very nurturing workplace. I’m glad you found Wizards of the Coast. We’ve all seen what years and years of bad days in bad environments can do to the best and brightest. You’re a great asset to humanity.
About unleashing mean, evil books into the world… I think mine would be quite laughable. I get so cynical when I’m in extreme pain. My downward spiral seems to work more or less like this: from happy to sappy to sad to angry to whatever to please-let-me-die-as-well to everything-is-so-hysterically-ridiculous to ha-ha-ha. I hope life continues to give you many moments of joy, and that you and Nicola have each other until the end so we never have to find out how your bitter books would read like.