Andrew Sean Greer won the 2018 Pulitzer Prize in Fiction for "Less," a comic novel that details the whirlwind globe trot of a man named Arthur Less — a trip engineered to avoid a former boyfriend's wedding. Greer spoke to Pulitzer.org about his creative process and the stand-out suit he wore to the Pulitzer awards ceremony.
In honor of Pride Month, the Pulitzers are republishing his interview as a reminder of the possibility of joy and love for gay characters. As Greer told the Guardian: "There’s a gap on my bookshelf for a story about two men in love that isn’t about trauma and despair and I wanted to write that book."
You often describe Arthur Less' personality and circumstances with humor. Can you offer any tips for honing a comic voice?
ASG: That is so hard to figure out! As they say: it’s all about timing. I found myself looking through the thesaurus for the funniest word. I found that often the first way I wrote a funny line was the best, and if it wasn’t funny that first time, it just wasn’t ever going to be funny. And, of course, that the funniest things have their root in the most poignant ones. That means you can mine something twice. I sat at my computer every day and thought what is the most humiliating thing I can remember, for me or anyone I know, and what can I invent. Those were very painful memories to sort through. Comedy is not about being witty. It really is about being honest. And, for me, you should never be mean.
Would you share any details of your process from first draft to publications? Were there any edits suggested that particularly resonated with you? Or changes you happily rejected?
ASG: I love my editor and she supplied me with the best example of an edit not to take. I have been telling my students for years that if the group rejects part of your story as “not fitting” and says to cut it, almost always the thing to do is cut everything but that part. Because that is the unformed but wholly unique part of the story. Just like a friend who says it isn’t that the tie doesn’t fit the suit, it’s that the suit doesn’t fit the tie. Pick the tie first. Commit to it completely. And commit to your weird choice in your writing. My editor, with "Less," suggested I cut the ending. And what I understand was that the ending wasn’t working; it wasn’t fitting with the rest of the book. So I just changed the rest of the book. I knew the ending was the right thing.
What question would you love book clubs to take up when discussing "Less"?
ASG: What is love?
Where were you when you learned you had won the Pulitzer? How has it affected you?
ASG: Ha ha! It was after dinner; I was working at a job in Italy, part of which involved caring for an incontinent pug. I had trained the pug to wear some pajamas at night, and I had just got the pug into the pajamas when Enrico came in and showed me his phone. It said “Andrew Sean Greer wins Pulitzer Prize.” I said that can’t be true. I looked at my phone and there were 100 messages. The last four were from Michael Chabon and his family. So I called him and asked him what was going on and he said you won the Pulitzer Prize! What do I do now? I asked. Now, he said, you can write anything you want.
Talk about the red suit you wore to the Pulitzer awards ceremony.
ASG: I was still at my job when I had to prepare for the ceremony — I was going directly from Italy! I had nothing to wear, so I was going to order something secondhand online. A writer was there, a Harvard Divinity professor, and I showed her a few choices in very somber gray and blue suits. “Oh no no,” she said. “Andrew. These are terrible times. And in terrible times, when people tell you you have no rights, you’re not a human, people want to silence you, the greatest rebellion is a defiant expression of joy.” She was very stern: “Wear a red suit.” So I found an old Gucci red suit. It was a lot brighter than I counted on. But I sure stand out in all the photos! And boy was it an expression of joy.
What are you working on these days?
ASG: My dog, when she was a puppy, was too little to walk out on the sidewalk so I used to carry her around in a bag around my neck. That’s my novel. It’s too little to walk outside yet. Suffice to say it will be, again (like my dog), a comedy.
