Richard Blakely
Born February 17, 1943, in Culver City, California.
Raised (0-9 yrs) in Cheviot Hills, then (9-17) in La Canada.
Went to college at UCSB, graduate school at Stanford, then went to France, then India, then back to France, then Sweden, then back to Calif.
Got a PhD in French at UCSB in 1974 (thesis on the film adaptation of Madame Bovary by Jean Renoir).
Taught at Brown University, University of Rhode Island, Université de Dijon, Rhode Island School of Design, Université de Marne la Vallée.
As for the important stuff, I helped raise 3 kids, made some functional furniture, did a lot of work on a big house and barn, tried fairly successfully to stay out of trouble, and through it all, kept working on The Secret of the Mantras.
A WORD ON THE PHOTOS :
Most of them will make sense to anyone who's read the book. #5 was taken on the banks of the Ganges, next to the swimming hole, in late March/early April, 1968. The photographer, I think, was Pattie Boyd. The person in the middle is her sister Jenny.
Here is an interview I did for The Hungry Freelancer (thehungryfreelancer.blogspot.com/2013/12):
1. What was the most challenging part of writing "The Secret of the Mantras"?
It took me thirty years to write this book, then three years to not find an agent. The biggest challenge was not in maintaining the courage to continue to believe in the book and go back to it while it was being written, but in keeping myself from getting discouraged and giving up because of the rejections and non-replies from the more than 200 agents to whom I sent queries, one of whom actually wrote back to say, “Nobody these days is interested in a memoir by a nobody.”
2. What appeals most to you about independent publishing?
What I find most appealing about independent publishing is that it’s there these days. An available option for those of us who keep getting told by agents and traditional publishers that nobody wants to read what we’ve written. Or in other words, that in “today’s market” they don’t think they can make any money off it. I also like the substantially higher royalties than what traditional publishers pay, and the fact that I’m completely in charge of how the book looks and what it contains.
3. What do you think is the biggest key to becoming a successful writer?
To be completely honest (and reveal another secret), I don’t consider myself a writer, in the sense that Austen and Flaubert and Tolstoy were writers. And I know I’m not “successful,” in the sense that my book has not yet made me rich and famous. That said (and to stop evading the question), maybe the thing dangling from the gate blocking the path towards success as a writer is not the kind of lock that can be opened with a key, but with a combination: talent, diligence, and luck. First you’ve got to have a flair for writing, which at the beginning can manifest itself simply as a desire to become a writer. Next you’ve got to be diligent in developing that talent, that flair, indulging that desire (see below). Finally, you’ve got to have help from the gods---whether you worship at the altar of Random House or CreateSpace---so that what you’ve written will be read. And of course the gods need all the help we can give them (one of the reasons I’m answering these questions).
4. What advice would you give to new writers?
That’s easy. (And a lot of people have already said it on this blog.) Write. And write & write & write & write & write & write & write. Start early and make it a habit. Following the advice of my freshman English teacher, I started keeping a journal in 1960 and I’m still at it, every day. At first I tried to express big thoughts about storms at sea and never-ending love and the eternal silence of infinite space, but soon I realized other people had already done that, better than I could. So instead I took to taking notes on little things I saw and heard around me that caught my attention or took my fancy. During the day I would jot down these snapshot-observations in a little notebook I kept in my back pocket or on paper tablecloths or napkins or in margins of books. Then at night I’d haul out all these notes and type them up, trying to reproduce what I’d seen or heard that day as accurately and as objectively as I could. I guess my goal was to get things coming through me rather than from me. The Secret of the Mantras is largely based on the notes that comprise my journals from 1965 to 1970, and many of the conversations are reproduced word-for-word exactly as I heard them, or as accurately as I could recompose them while they were still fresh in my mind.
