George Saunders

So, you know, I don't think if nobody was reading it, I think I might still be inclined to do it.

The sweetest thing for me is that feeling of the story coming out of the stone, you know?

You're just farting around and it's just text.

It's just all typing.

And then you keep revising and suddenly it's not just typing anymore.

It's actually something else.

So I think that's the real answer.

So even if the role has declined, what am I going to do, you know?

I think so.

I think what they're obsessively trying to do, and I remember this myself as a student, is just...

where am I in all this?

Like, where do I sound like myself?

Where am I doing something that nobody else could do?

And that is such an obsessive pursuit.

And I think that's what they're after still, because when in my teaching, when I get on that, when I, for example, if I give them an edit,

that sort of reveals them to themselves.

I mean, it's such a good feeling between us, you know?

Or sometimes the best thing is when you notice that somebody has a habit, usually out of allegiance to some other writer or some previous incarnation of themselves, and then you just say, you know, seems like you have this habit.

And they go, oh, thank you, you know.

Or sometimes even like there'll be a student who has a shining moment of real sincerity or earnestness or something in the story that the sort of hipster in them has been keeping out.