Turning a successful play into a rich, three-dimensional memoir is no mean feat, but Brooke Berman has been able to pull it off in her debut book. Below my interview with the playwright/author.
Jill Dearman: Tell us about the evolution of your book, "No Place Like Home: A Memoir in 39 Apartments."
Brooke Berman: When my play "Hunting and Gathering" was running at Primary Stages (in 2008) the New York Times ran a piece about my lifestyle and the very realistic challenges facing young artists in the Big City. An editor at Random House, Julia Pastore, read the article, saw the play and contacted me. She suggested I write a book proposal and a few sample chapters and we'd see if there might be a book. A few weeks later, I went to the MacDowell Colony to work on a screenplay and while there, started meeting prose writers who showed me what a book proposal should look like. I read a few memoirs and tried to imagine what mine might be. I took my time dreaming and pre-writing, thinking about what I'd want to say. A few months later, I wrote the proposal and then, a few months after that, the sample chapters. And then, we sold it, and I wrote it! And I have to say, the whole thing was a pleasurable process, the book really just poured out of me. I'd been wanting to talk about these things, to tell these stories, for a long, long time.
JD: I was lucky enough to see the fab theatrical production of "Hunting and Gathering" ; how were you able to switch forms from play to prose?
BB: Very easily. Don't forget, I'd been a solo performance artist, a "monologuist," before ever attempting to write a play. So prose felt very natural.
JD: Are there particular authors who've influenced you?
BB: Tons! I learned from seeing performances and from reading. As a solo artist: Spalding Gray, David Cale, Holly Hughes. As a playwright: Maria Irene Fornes, Naomi Iizuka, Tony Kushner, Tennessee Williams, Lee Blessing, Adam Rapp, Marsha Norman, and all of my peers at New Dramatists in NYC. As a reader and developing artist: Toni Morrison and Salinger. I read both as a student at Barnard College, and they remain to this day, my favorite authors.
JD: Is your writing practice consistent, and are their particular places you love to write?
BB: At times, my writing practice is very, very consistent. There are periods in which I get up, start writing, and work for three or four hours. I wrote the book this way—at regular times, like it was a job. At other times though, like now, when I'm doing a lot of "business," I am less consistent and find myself writing whenever I have time. But regardless of how often I'm writing and whether or not it's a regular practice, I always keep journals, and visual "sourcebooks"—so that my subconsious mind is working, even when my actual writing-self is not. I go through very prolific writing periods and then, quieter gestational periods where I'm journalling and thinking, but not working on a specific project.
Particular places? This is tricky since I've recently moved to Los Angeles. And in LA, I pretty much only write at home. We live in a pretty big open loft space with a lot of light. Very occassionally, I will remember to take myself out to write—a treat! Like an artist's date! And I go to a local cafe. But it's rare. In New York, I mostly wrote in coffee shops because there were always roommates to work around. But that was okay. I love cafe culture—I can sort of melt into it and become invisible. And there are two notable exceptions: I wrote in my bedroom at 345 West Broadway, in the mornings before work, and I wrote at the kitchen table when I lived alone at 285 Mott Street. This was my first real home—a lease in my name, an apartment that was solely mine—so it's fitting that it was there, I learned to work at home. After a string of East Village coffee shops, writing at home became both a strange new habit and also, an indulgence. I could spread out—all over the kitchen table—laptop open, sourcebooks spread all over the floor, notes taped to the wall if necessary—the space was entirely mine!
JD: Home begins with our families. What do you think your late Mom, a pianist, and a bigger-than-life character, would say about your book if she were here?
BB: She would be delighted. Especially because I'm sure to tell everyone how beautiful she was.
For more on Brooke be sure to check out her website. For more on the craft of writing take a look at my book, Bang the Keys or stop by the site: http://www.bangthekeys.com. And until next week I leave you with this: Where do YOU do your best writing?
