Wednesday, September 07, 2005

S.E. Hinton: Mysterious my eye

Read this fluff piece by Dinita Smith on S.E. Hinton.

What happened? Simple - Smith did a lousy interview whereby she didn't establish a repore with the subject who didn't open up to the reporter who anyway wasn't doing a good job listening.

I may not have been a good reporter for The Thresher (or the Notty Natter for that matter) but I can say with confidence that I was a bad reporter. I know bad reporting up and down. I have intimate first hand knowledge of bad reporting both as the reporter and the subject and I recognize it when I see it.

In fact, there is nothing mystical or mysterious about S.E. Hinton. I say this because I met her in London in 1995 at a publicity even for her booktour at the Everyman Theatre and I asked her my reporter question which was "What is it like to be the lengendary author or an American Classic?"

I asked this question because after Mr. Eckelman's class, Hinton was a larger than life figure. She was the teenage Faulkner for teenagers. But of course, she wasn't. In 1995, she was just a middle-aged author and a all-around nice Mom selling her book. I hung out with her 12-year old son, not knowing who he was until afterwards.

Anyway, her answer to my question was "I know that my book is particularly popular with Middle School English teachers because boys who don't like to read books will read my book. I am comfortable with that, although I've grown since I wrote those stories." Oh...

She went on to describe Matt Dillion as a talented and handsome young actor who was very successful playing her character. Then she talked about the heroic epic and we watched Rumble Fish.

Afterwards, I didn't go next door to the bookstore to buy her book. Instead, I bought a postcard and told my friend, Rory, that I met S.E. Hinton.

Since then, I've met other writers who have been succesful at getting published (not that this is my measure of success). They have many of the same personality traits as Hinton. If I was a better writer than I am, I could describe what those are, but suffice it to say... I've notice that the four or so succesful writers whom I've met come off the same way.



"Too late or still too soon too soon to make lots of bad love and there's no time for sorrow. Run around, run around with a hole in your head 'til tomorrow."
-----They Might Be Giants