But after thinking a minute s...

But after thinking a minute she said, "No, I cain‘t leave the gulls,
the heron, the shack. The marsh is all the family I got."
Sitting in the last of the candlelight, she had an idea.
Earlier than usual, she got up the next morning when the tide waslow, pulled on her overalls, and slipped out with a bucket, claw knife,
and empty tow bags. Squatting in mud, she collected mussels along thesloughs like Ma had taught her, and in four hours of crouching andkneeling had two croker sacks full. - P75

Buying her own gas and groceries surely made her a grown-up.
Later, at the shack when she unpacked the tiny pile of supplies, she sawa yellow-and-red surprise at the bottom of the bag. Not too grown-upfor a Sugar Daddy Jumpin‘ had dropped inside. - P76

To stay ahead of the other pickers, Kya slipped down to the marsh bycandle or moon-her shadow wavering around on the glistening sand-and gathered mussels deep in the night. She added oysters to her catchand sometimes slept near gullies under the stars to get to Jumpin‘s byfirst light. The mussel money turned out to be more reliable than theMonday money ever had, and she usually managed to beat out otherpickers. - P76

Mostly she looked for the fishing boy. A few times over the years, she‘d seen him in the distance, but hadn‘t spoken to him since she was seven, three years ago when he showed her the way home through the marsh. He was the only soul she knew in the world besides Jumpin‘ and a few salesladies. Wherever she glided through the waterways, she scanned for him. - P78

But she only stared, didn‘t move. She felt a strong pull toward himand a strong push away, the result being stuck firmly in this spot. Fi-nally, she eased toward home, her heart pushing against her ribs.
Every time she saw him it was the same: watching him as she didthe herons. - P79

In the center of the clearing was a rotted-down stump, so carpetedin moss it looked like an old man hiding under a cape. Kya approachedit, then stopped. Lodged in the stump and sticking straight up was athin black feather about five or six inches long. To most it would havelooked ordinary, maybe a crow‘s wing feather. But she knew it was ex-traordinary for it was the "eyebrow" of a great blue heron, the featherthat bows gracefully above the eye, extending back beyond her eleganthead. One of the most exquisite fragments of the coastal marsh, right here. She had never found one but knew instantly what it was, havingsquatted eye to eye with herons all her life. - P88

Yet as soon as dawn crept between the trees, she felt a strong pulltoward the feather, at least to look at it again. At sunrise she ran to theclearing, looked around carefully, then walked to the stump and liftedthe feather. It was sleek, almost velvety. Back at the shack, she founda special place for it in the center of her collection—from tiny hum-mingbird feathers to large eagle tails—that winged across the wall. Shewondered why a boy would bring her a feather. - P88

Every smack a stab in the turkey hen‘s heart.
Against the wall, Kya wanted to whimper but held her breath. Theycould break through the door easy. One hard yank, and they‘d be in.
But they backed down the steps, ran into the trees again, hootingand hollering with relief that they had survived the Marsh Girl, theWolf Child, the girl who couldn‘t spell dog. Their words and laughtercarried back to her through the forest as they disappeared into thenight, back to safety. She watched the relit candles, bobbing throughthe trees. Then sat staring into the stone-quiet darkness. Shamed.
Kya thought of that day and night whenever she saw wild turkeys,
but she was thrilled to see the tail feather on the stump. Just to knowthe game was still on. - P91

And yet here was an extra spark plug, to be set aside until needed. Asurplus. Her heart filled up. The same feeling as having a full tank ofgas or seeing the sunset under a paint-brushed sky. She stood abso-lutely still, trying to take it in, what it meant. She had watched malebirds wooing females by bringing them gifts. But she was pretty youngfor nestingAt the bottom of the carton was a note. She unfolded it and lookedat the words, written carefully in simple script that a child could read.
Kya knew the time of the tides in her heart, could find her way home bythe stars, knew every feather of an eagle, but even at fourteen, couldn‘tread these words. - P97

Tate couldn‘t help staring. She must be thirteen or fourteen, hethought. But even at that age, she had the most striking face he‘d everseen. Her large eyes nearly black, her nose slender over shapely lips,
painted her in an exotic light. She was tall, thin, giving her a fragile, lithesome look as though molded wild by the wind. Yet young, strap-ping muscles showed through with quiet power. - P98

Her impulse, as always, was to run. But there was another sensa-tion. A fullness she hadn‘t felt for years. As if something warm hadbeen poured inside her heart. She thought of the feathers, the sparkplug, and the seeds. All of it might end if she ran. Without speaking, she lifted her hand and held the elegant swan feather toward him.
Slowly, as though she might spring like a startled fawn, he walked overand studied it in her hand. She watched in silence, looking only at thefeather, not his face, nowhere near his eyes. - P98

˝Hi.˝ Kya heard a tiny voice ...

"Hi." Kya heard a tiny voice behind her and turned to see a girl ofabout four years with blond ringlets looking up at her. She was dressed in a pale blue frock and reached out her hand. Kya stared at the little hand; it was puffy-soft and maybe the cleanest thing Kya had everseen. Never scrubbed with lye soap, certainly no mussel mud beneaththe nails. Then she looked into the girl‘s eyes, in which she herself was reflected as just another kid. - P65

Sycamore and hickories stretched naked limbs against a dull sky, and the relentless wind sucked any joy the winter sun might havespread across the bleakness. A useless, drying wind in a sea-land thatcouldn‘t dry. - P73

챈들러는 대공황 탓을 하고 있지만 사실은 석유 회사 ...

챈들러는 대공황 탓을 하고 있지만 사실은 석유 회사 여직원과 불미스러운 일도 있었으며, 지나친 음주와 그로 인한 업무 태만으로 해고됐다고 한다. 당시 이미 그는 술을 지나치게 마시고 있었다.
실업자가 된 챈들러는 아내와 함께 크루즈를 타고 태평양을 돌다가 불현듯 소설을 쓰겠다는 데 생각이 미친다. 이때 나이가 44세였다.
펄프 매거진의 대표 주자였던 《블랙 마스크Black Mask》에 단편을 기고하기 시작한 챈들러는, 1939년 51세의 나이에 마침내 첫 장편 소설인 『빅 슬립』을 출간했다.
장편 소설 네 편을 발표한 후, 1943년에 제임스 케인의 소설을 각색하며 할리우드 생활을 시작한다.

-알라딘 eBook <나는 어떻게 글을 쓰게 되었나> (레이먼드 챈들러 지음, 안현주 옮김) 중에서 - P15

챈들러를 이해하는 또 다른 축은 아내인 시시 챈들러다.
챈들러는 1924년에 결혼했으며 아이는 없다. 시시는 챈들러보다 무려 열일곱 살이나 연상이었지만 챈들러는 결혼 당시 시시의 정확한 나이를 알지 못했다고 한다. 시시 챈들러는 챈들러의 유일한 친구이자 아내이자 든든한 지원자였다.
1954년 시시 챈들러가 오랜 지병 끝에 사망한 후, 챈들러는 극심한 우울증에 빠져 좀처럼 술을 끊지 못했고 자살을 기도하기도 했다. 말년에 헬가 그린과 사랑에 빠져 약혼하기도 했지만 챈들러는 결국 그 결실을 이루지 못하고 사망했다.
생전에 그토록 명성을 누렸음에도 장례식에 고작 열두 명만 참석했을 정도로, 챈들러는 평생 주거지 없이 떠돌아다니며 외롭고 고독한 삶을 살았다. 혹은 그랬기 때문에 그토록 많은 편지를 썼는지도 모른다.

-알라딘 eBook <나는 어떻게 글을 쓰게 되었나> (레이먼드 챈들러 지음, 안현주 옮김) 중에서 - P16

"그러나 이 비열한 거리로 한 남자는 걸어가야 한다. 그 자신은 비열하지도 않고, 타락하지도 않으며, 두려움도 없는 채로. (……) 만일 그 같은 사람이 많다면, 이 세계는 지나치게 따분하지 않으면서도 살아가기에 아주 안전한 공간이 되리라."
-「심플 아트 오브 머더」 중에서.

-알라딘 eBook <나는 어떻게 글을 쓰게 되었나> (레이먼드 챈들러 지음, 안현주 옮김) 중에서 - P17

저급한 작품은 쓰고 싶지 않습니다. 새삼 깨달았는데,...

저급한 작품은 쓰고 싶지 않습니다. 새삼 깨달았는데, 지금 쓰는 작품에는 제법 불쾌한 인물들이 꽤 등장하는 것같아요. 워낙 거친 환경에서 소설을 배운지라 아마 전에는 그다지 의식하지 못했던 거겠지요. 그때는 느리다 못해 때로는 지루한 상황 연결보다. 한 인물이 증거에 입각해서 상황을 이해하고밝혀서 미스터리를 풀어내는 지점에 더 관심을 두었죠. 내 초기작을 접한 평론가들은 그런 점에 흥미가 없었을지 모르지만 나한테는 그 점이 중요했어요. - P22

자동적으로 영상화되지 않으면서 어떤 독자가내 글을 읽든, 실망시키지 않는 무언가를 써 보고 싶어서요. 『빅슬립은 사실 굉장히 균일하지 못하게 쓴 작품이죠. 그런대로 괜찮은 장면들도 있지만, 어떤 장면들은 지나치게 저속해요. 할수만 있다면, 객관적인 방식을 서서히 발전시켜서, 독자를 정말로 드라마틱하고 심지어는 멜로드라마틱한 소설로 이끌고 싶습니다. 스타일은 아주 생생하고 예리하지만, 지나친 속어나 은어는 쓰지 않은 소설로요. 그런 방식은 신중하게, 아주 조금씩시도해야 한다는 것을 알지만 그래도 해낼 수 있을 것 같아요.
힘을 잃지 않으면서도 섬세함을 얻는 것, 그것이 관건이죠. 어쨌거나 다른 무언가를 시도하기 전에 적어도 장편 소설 세 편은써 봐야 하지 않을까 싶지만요.
(1939년 2월 19일) - P23

내가 ‘의미의 하찮음‘이라는 제목으로 당신 잡지에 글을 써도되겠습니까? 내 평소의 사창가 스타일로 이런 글을 쓰고 싶습니다. 소설이 무엇인지는 쥐뿔만큼도 중요치 않다. 어느 시대 어느 때건 가장 좋은 소설은 언어로 마법을 부리는 소설이다. 소재는 단지 작가가 상상력을 풀어놓을 도약판에 지나지 않는다. 앞으로도 그렇게 불릴지는 모르겠지만 소설이라는 예술은, 무에서출발해서 적어도 삼백 년 동안 인공적인 체계를 발전시켜 왔으며, 이제 구조적으로는 어느 정도 완성된 상태라서 소설가를 구별하는 유일한 방법은 그들이 뷰트의 광부들에 대해 쓰는지, 중국의 쿨리들에 대해 쓰는지, 브롱크스의 유대인에 대해 쓰는지,
롱아일랜드의 증권 중개인에 대해 쓰는지 등등뿐이다. - P31

글의 특색이란 작가의 감정과 통찰의 본질에 따른 산물이죠. 그특색이 감정과 통찰을 종이로 옮겨 작가가 되게 하는 자질이고,
반대로 똑같이 좋은 감정과 예리한 통찰력을 지녔다 해도 그걸종이로 옮기지 못하게 하는 요소이기도 합니다. 만들어진 작가몇을 알고 있습니다. 물론 할리우드에는 당연히도 그런 사람이가득해요. 그런 자들의 작품은 그 즉시엔 지적이고 유려하고 세련되게 충격을 가하곤 하지만, 그 속은 텅 비어 있고 누구도 다시 돌아보지 않지요. 어쨌건 나는 돌아보지 않습니다. - P36

아, 제길, 아무렴 어때요. 생각이란 독입니다. 생각을 많이 할수록 창조는 줄어들 뿐입니다.
(1947년 10월 28일) - P39

내 이론은 독자들이 행동에만 신경을 쓰는게 아니라, 본인들도 깨닫지 못하지만, 사실 행동에는 거의 신경을 쓰지 않는다는 겁니다. 독자들과 나의 관심사는 대화와 묘사를 통해 만들어지는 감정입니다.
독자들에게 기억되고 각인되는 건 이를테면 한 남자가 살해당했다는 사실이 아닙니다.
죽음이 닥친 순간, 그는 매끄러운 책상 위에 놓인 클립을 집으려고책상 위를 긁고 있었고, 클립이 자꾸만 미끄러져서 불만스러운표정이 얼굴에 가득했으며, 그의 입은 고통스럽다는 듯 이를 드러내며 반쯤 벌어져 있었고, 그가 세상에서 마지막으로 떠올린것이 죽음이었다는 사실입니다. 그는 죽음이 문을 두드리는 소리조차 듣지 못했죠. 그 망할 클립이 자꾸 손가락에서 미끄러졌고, 그는 그저 책상 모서리로 그 클립을 밀어 떨어지게 해서 잡을 수 없었던 겁니다.
(1948년 5월 7일) - P43

Kya didn‘t stop or they would...

Kya didn‘t stop or they would bolt, a lesson she‘d learned from watching wild turkeys: if you act like a predator, they act like prey. Just ignore them, keep going slow. She drifted by, and the deer stood as still as a pine until Kya disappeared beyond the salt grass. - P42

There‘d been no other people, not even distant boats, so it was asurprise when she entered the large estuary again, and there, closeagainst the marsh grass, was a boy fishing from another battered rig.
Her course would take her only twenty feet from him. By now, shelooked every bit the swamp child-hair blown into tangles, dustycheeks streaked with wind-tears. - P43

Neither low gas nor storm threat gave her the same edgy feeling asseeing another person, especially a boy. Ma had told her older sisters towatch out for them; if you look tempting, men turn into predators.
Squishing her lips tight, she thought, What am I gonna do? I gotta goright by him. - P43

From the corner of her eye, she saw he was thin, his golden curlsstuffed under a red baseball cap. Much older than she, eleven, maybetwelve. Her face was grim as she approached, but he smiled at her,
warm and open, and touched the brim of his hat like a gentleman greeting a fine lady in a gown and bonnet. She nodded slightly, then lookedahead, increasing the throttle and passing him by. - P43

Another few minutes of creek brought a bend and the large estuaryahead, and on the other side, the boy in his boat. Egrets took flight, aline of white flags against the mounting gray clouds. She anchored himhard with her eyes. Afraid to go near him, afraid not to. Finally, sheturned across the estuary. - P44

"Oh, I‘ve been fishin‘ with Jodie some. I saw you a couple a‘ times.
You were just a little kid. You‘re Kya, right?"
Someone knew her name. She was taken aback. Felt anchored tosomething; released from something else. - P45

Alone, she‘d been scared, butthat was already humming as excitement. There was something else,
too. The calmness of the boy. She‘d never known anybody to speak ormove so steady. So sure and easy. Just being near him, and not eventhat close, had eased her tightness. For the first time since Ma andJodie left, she breathed without pain; felt something other than thehurt. She needed this boat and that boy. - P46

His dad had told him many times that the definition of a realman is one who cries without shame, reads poetry with his heart, feelsopera in his soul, and does what‘s necessary to defend a woman. - P48

In his room, scanningthrough the poetry book for one to read in class, Tate found a poem byThomas Moore:
... she‘s gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp,
Where, all night long, by a fire-fly lamp,
She paddles her white canoe.

And her fire-fly lamp I soon shall see,
And her paddle I soon shall hear;
Long and loving our life shall be,
And I‘ll hide the maid in a cypress tree,
When the footstep of death is near.

The words made him think of Kya, Jodie‘s little sister. She‘d seemedso small and alone in the marsh‘s big sweep. He imagined his own sisterlost out there. His dad was right-poems made you feel something - P49

More and more Kya didn‘t talk to anybody but the gulls. She wondered if she could strike some bargain with Pa to use his boat. Out inthe marsh, she could collect feathers and shells and maybe see the boysometimes. She‘d never had a friend, but she could feel the use of it, thepull. They could boat around in the estuaries some, explore the fens.
He might think of her as a little kid, but he knew his way around themarsh and might teach her. - P51