Antho­ny Schnei­der is the author of Reper­cus­sions, a nov­el about a grand­fa­ther whose South African past con­tin­ues to affect his fam­i­ly in the gen­er­a­tions to come. Antho­ny is blog­ging here all week as a Vis­it­ing Scribe on The ProsenPeo­ple.

Begin­ning a book is unpleas­ant,” Philip Roth observed.

Roth is a vet­er­an writer who has writ­ten 27 nov­els, give or take. So for the first‑, sec­ond- or third- time nov­el­ist, begin­ning a book is very unpleas­ant indeed, bor­der­ing on ter­ri­fy­ing. You sit at your desk with an out­line or a blank piece of paper, per­haps you’ve jot­ted some notes or writ­ten a few pages, but you have no idea how you’ll get from there to a fin­ished man­u­script weigh­ing in at two or three hun­dred pages. Ask a dozen writ­ers how their books began and you’ll like­ly get a dozen answers. That’s because begin­nings are mys­te­ri­ous, and dif­fer­ent writ­ers have dif­fer­ent processes.

My nov­el Reper­cus­sions start­ed by acci­dent. I was at the Mac­Dow­ell Colony (thank you Mac­Dow­ell) and gave myself writ­ing exer­cis­es. One of my grand­fa­thers had moved from Liv­er­pool to South Africa, and I’d been think­ing about his gen­er­a­tion and his life and had brought along a book about Liv­er­pool in the ear­ly twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry. I thought it might be lib­er­at­ing to write a day in the life— a char­ac­ter sketch, not a sto­ry (the word nov­el” wasn’t even hov­er­ing in the air above my lap­top back then). So I wrote about a boy in Liv­er­pool. After twen­ty or so pages, I moved on.

A few months lat­er I found myself writ­ing about a grumpy grand­fa­ther in New York City, and at some stage it struck me that the two char­ac­ters might be the same per­son. That was the first seed. As I wrote more, I had the sense that I already knew this char­ac­ter, that I wasn’t invent­ing him as much as uncov­er­ing him. 

There was a sec­ond seed, which came much lat­er, when I had writ­ten hun­dreds of pages (don’t wor­ry, the fin­ished book is a trim 227 pages). I asked myself what I was writ­ing about, and it occurred to me that the book was about the con­flict between humans and his­to­ry. The forces of his­to­ry are immense­ly pow­er­ful, too big for most peo­ple to under­stand, let alone con­trol. At the same time, an individual’s actions, even when one is act­ing to make the world a bet­ter place, have rip­ples and reper­cus­sions that affect oth­ers, some­times for many gen­er­a­tions. The pages sort of opened up when I hit upon that idea, and I was able to mine a vein of the sto­ries flood­ing in and begin thread­ing them togeth­er into a sin­gle novel. 

Nov­els teach us not only what hap­pens but how it feels. Reper­cus­sions is very much an explo­ration of how it feels to be caught in the clash between your life and job and fam­i­ly — and his­to­ry. It’s not a fair fight, pre­cise­ly because his­to­ry is a tsuna­mi: big, com­pli­cat­ed, pow­er­ful, and unpre­dictable, fur­ther com­pli­cat­ed by the fact that his­to­ry isn’t real­ly observ­able while it’s going on. We spend our days think­ing about tomor­row, our job, the hol­i­day we’re plan­ning, what to cook for din­ner, our child’s home­work. We can’t help being immersed in the quo­tid­i­an even if we have our sights on the future. We’re not real­ly aware how his­to­ry ensues around us, and the vast major­i­ty of us cer­tain­ly don’t know how we might affect it. That’s where I see the char­ac­ters in my nov­el — inside his­to­ry, whether near the eye of the storm or far from it, try­ing to change the world or to just get by. But his­to­ry is hap­pen­ing, and the more pow­er­ful the cur­rents of his­to­ry the fur­ther the rip­ples will travel. 

Post­script: I’m writ­ing this from South Africa, where peo­ple don’t talk much about his­to­ry, even recent his­to­ry, and all too few are try­ing to change it. Per­haps a few nov­el­ists are writ­ing about it. I hope so. 

Antho­ny Schnei­der has been pub­lished in McSweeney’s, Con­junc­tions, Mid-Amer­i­can Review, and Details. Born in South Africa and edu­cat­ed in the Unit­ed States, he divides his time between Lon­don and New York.

Antho­ny Schnei­der has been pub­lished in McSweeney’s, Con­junc­tions, Mid-Amer­i­can Review, and Details. Born in South Africa and edu­cat­ed in the Unit­ed States, he divides his time between Lon­don and New York.