Ruth Interviews Elizabeth Ruth!

Canadian Author Elizabeth Ruth

I'm very pleased to showcase another fine Canadian writer, Elizabeth Ruth. We met years ago when I was still floundering around trying to figure out all this 'being a writer' nonsense, and found Elizabeth to be friendly and helpful-- eager to share her experiences and offer advice.

Elizabeth Ruth hit the Canadian literary scene in 2001 with her very fine first novel Ten Good Seconds of Silence, and followed up with the riveting Smoke in 2005. I was very excited to see a new novel from this talented and insightful author at last-- Matadora arrived on the shelves in April of 2013.

Q: Hooray! A new novel from Elizabeth Ruth! Please share a brief overview and give us a taste of what Matadora is about.

A: Matadora tells the story of Luna Caballero Garcia, an impoverished and intrepid servant attempting to make her name in the bullring at a time when it was illegal for a girl to do so. Matadora carries readers from bohemian artistic circles in Mexico City and Andalusia to Norman Bethune's mobile blood transfusions on the Madrid front. The novel is an exploration of love and ambition. The pain that drives our ambition, the yearning for love it reveals, the lengths we go to win that love - and of course, the price we pay along the way. Matadora is for anyone who’s tried, against all odds, to rise above circumstance.

Q: As we know, the best ideas for novels often hits an author out of the blue. It can be something innocuous: a snippet of overheard conversation, a quirky news item, or a half-remembered dream. What triggered you to write about such an unusual story? 

A: It all began one Saturday morning in my kitchen. The radio was on, and I heard the CBC broadcaster mention a 16-year-old girl in Mexico who was fighting bulls. Immediately intrigued, I wondered why would a girl want to become a bullfighter? Why would anyone choose to do such a violent and dangerous thing? Having once been a vegetarian for 18 years, I could hardly bring myself to squash a bug let alone imagine publicly killing an animal for entertainment. At that time I was also reading Emma Goldman’s collection, Anarchism & Other Essays. Before long, thoughts of fascism and resistance, the politics of the left, Spain, and women’s rights all began to meld in my mind with this notion of a torera. I had already written two novels set in Canada, and the second one, Smoke, was my take on the so-called quiet Canadian novel. I knew that for my third book I wanted to write something loud and brassy, full of colour and heat. I wanted to write a new kind of Canadian novel. That’s Matadora.

Q: Every writer has a different approach to their work. What's a typical day in the process like for you?

A: Well, since my daughter was born in 2007 there has been a major shift in my writing process. Before Violet, I wrote 9-5 during the days, and worked for pay at night and on week-ends. After Violet I wrote from 7:30 PM (after bedtime) until 2:30 am. (still working week-ends) I wanted to both write and care for my daughter during the days, so sleep had to go. I did that for a number of years. I’m trying to catch up on sleep now!

Q: In a perfect world, what would you most like to be doing five years from now?

A: Ooooh. In an ideal world, I would be traveling regularly, and completing another book of some sort. I would be bringing in bucket fulls of money from my novels, and working part-time in the arts & culture sector. Oh, and I would have my own horse to ride!

Q: With the ease of e-book publishing, there has been a flood of writers leaping into the fray. What three pieces of essential advice would you give to enthusiastic new Indies?

A: 1) Learn how to be your own publicist and creative marketing executive 2) Work harder than you’ve ever worked at your writing and when you think you’ve finished a book, hold onto it for another year and keep working. Books that sell now have to be of publishable quality when they are shopped around. 3) Don’t write for money. Do something else for money. Write because you have something to say.

Q: I know you teach creative writing. If any aspiring authors out there would like to learn from you, where can they find you?

A: I’m currently mentoring within the Humber School for Writer’s Correspondence Program, and will begin teaching creative writing at the University of Toronto again in the fall. I’ve taught at U of T for many years.

[Note: The Humber program is a great opportunity, because you can study from anywhere with some truly excellent mentors. I was thrilled to study with Peter Carey back in the day, and I got a lot from the course. http://www.humber.ca/scapa/programs/school-writers]

Q: The media buzz for Matadora has been enthusiastic and full of praise-- congratulations! Are there any events coming up where readers can connect with you?

A: Yes, thanks for asking! On May 15th at 7PM there is a great event at the Metro Reference Library in Toronto. http://www.torontopubliclibrary.ca/detail.jsp?Entt=RDMEVT131268&R=EVT131268  Matadora has been selected to be part of Toronto Public Library’s “Eh” list Author Series. I will read from Matadora and Susan G Cole, NOW Magazine Senior Entertainment Editor will interview me. This event is free. In fact, I have a number of events upcoming, including festivals and book clubs. The list is updated regularly and can be found at my website: http://www.elizabethruth.com/index.html

Exorcising Demons with Author Andrew Pyper

I am pleased to welcome fellow Canadian (and former Stratford boy) +Andrew Pyper as my blog guest. Andrew is the bestselling author of Lost Girls, The Trade Mission, The Wildfire Season, The Killing Circle and The Guardians, as well as a collection of short fiction, Kiss Me. This week saw the release of Andrew's latest novel from Simon & Schuster, The Demonologist. Amid the swirl of  glowing reviews and amazing buzz, I'm grateful to Andrew for finding some time in the middle of it all to answer questions here on Spirited Words.

Canadian Gothic Master -- Andrew Pyper

Welcome, Andrew-- and thanks for agreeing to an interview.

Thanks so much for thinking of me for it!


Q: Did you set out to be a writer, or did you accidentally morph into life as an author-- as happens to so many of us!

A: I always loved writing stories, but I never thought I could make a living out of it.  It was just something I did, without strategy or game plan or purpose beyond the pleasure of doing it.  So after I graduated from law school and was called to the bar, I rewarded myself by running away from Real Life, moved out of the city and wrote a novel.  Once again, there was no thought that "Yes, I'll write this and this will become my job," it was done just to maintain my sanity.  And then, when I was done, and the manuscript was submitted, publishers wanted to publish it.  It's enabled me to do nothing else since.  And nobody was more surprised than I was.

Q: You grew up in small town Stratford, Ontario. How has that influenced your writing? (Is there something in the water here, because I write creepy stuff too!)

A: I don't think the water is extra-creepy in Stratford (though it is full of flouride, isn't it?)  But it is a perfect place to grow up if you're interested in developing gothic tendencies:  snowbound in winter, Victorian facades, the red brick houses, each with their own secret history.  At least, this is how my imagination saw it.

Q: There has been a tremendous amount of pre-publication media excitement building up to the release of your sixth novel-- The Demonologist. How does this book compare with your previous work?

A: I think of The Demonologist as a graduation from the novels before it in the sense that it is higher concept, more distilled, a more fully realized mythical world built within its story.  It's also more deeply involved in elements of horror than the other books (though they too have their share of scares).  

Q: You are a father of young children-- that makes for a busy household. How do you strike a healthy balance between work and family life?

A: It's not easy.  I feel like both realms - the Writing, the Family - must be fiercely guarded.  To give both the attention they deserve requires saying no to more things, many of which being things you'd like to say yes to, but there simply isn't the space.

Q: What's your writing schedule? Do you strive to write a certain amount every day, or do you 'binge' write in fits and starts?

A: In a typical work week (though nothing is typical right now!) it's Monday to Friday, 9 to 5.  My office is up on the third floor of the house, and after the kids are fed and bundled up and teeth brushed, I head up there, coffee in hand, and get started.  When I'm working on a draft, I like to set myself word count quotas.  If I don't hit my number (which fluctuates, depending on what stage the project is at) I'm not allowed out of the room.  No lunch, no walk in the sun.  It's a great motivator!

Q: What's the best piece of writing advice you got along the way? Would you care to offer any words of wisdom to all the aspiring authors out there?

A: My one big piece of advice (in addition to all the other writerly advice out there) would be to hold on to your work as long as you can before submitting it.  Read and re-read it.  Get others to read it and ask them to be brutally honest about it (then pay them lavishly with thanks and food and wine).  Read the whole thing out loud.  Be able to say to yourself that this is the absolute best you can do before you hit SEND.  Because there are no second chances.

Q: What does the future hold for you? Is there a new novel in the works? And I've heard buzz about screen adaptations...

A: I'm ready to get started on the new novel, but these days I'm talking about The Demonologist full time (which is a pleasure of a different kind).  And yes, there are a couple of movie projects based on the novels, percolating away.  Who knows?  The movie business is even more unpredictable than publishing!

Good luck, Andrew!

Here's a look at the splendid cover of The Demonologist:

You can find more information and links to all of Andrew's fabulous work at his official website: http://www.andrewpyper.com/

What Dreams May Come

Fuseli's 'The Nightmare'

I have extremely vivid, detailed dreams. Sometimes they can be terrifying, sometimes hilarious... or so teasingly authentic in the moment that I wake up feeling ripped off because my finances were FINALLY in good and abundant order! Meh!

Last night involved one of the more quirkily detailed meanderings of my bizarre subconsciousness. I was visiting a friend's new flat. They'd just moved into a place overtop a defunct restaurant on the high street of some touristy English town. The building dated back a few centuries, but it couldn't have been heritage listed considering what the landlords had done to it...

The Tudor facade was barely discernable beneath a horrible layer of 'decorative' corrugated metal sheeting covering the jutting top floor. The bottom half had been thickly coated with gobs of plaster resembling toothpaste and then glossily whitewashed to death, and the boarded up windows had tacky wooden shutters that I supposed were meant to simulate a sort of cheesy Swiss Alps effect. Flanking the former restaurant's doorway were a pair of matching built-in 'planters'. They appeared to be made from old metal feeding troughs, now badly rusted and full of random bits of rubbish. As my friend seemed unmoved by the appalling state of the place, I politely asked if the landlord was planning on restoring it to its original state. 'No,' they assured me. 'The restaurant itself was such a well-known destination in the '70s that they've decided to preserve it just as it is.'

At this point, they reverently waved their hand at the fading faux-Gothic lettered sign over the restaurant door, which read: 'Ye Olde Lithuanian Pilaf Markt'.

Huh? Talk about taking the concept of fusion cuisine to a whole new level! Why does my brain DO this to me?? I think I woke myself up giggling.

Mostly, I am grateful that I possess such a fertile imagination. The only time it can be a worry is when I experience a minutely detailed nightmare... dreams that are more like a 'night terror'. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Night_terror The palpable sense of horror and fear is overwhelming, and my mind has conjured up imagery and situations that would make even the most ardent guts-and-gore horror movie fan throw up in their popcorn. I am grateful that such dreams are rare.

Sometimes, this can be handy. I have used dreams as a leaping off point for a short story, or as a section in my longer fiction. In 'Base Spirits', there's a segment which is more or less a blow-by-blow retelling of nightmare I had about my characters while I was writing an early draft. Having been haunted by increasingly horrific visions of Calverley Old Hall's tragic past during her stay, Clara finds she is unable to shut off her mind from the echoes of the terror left behind by the murderous former lord of the manor:


A new visitation--
Clara walks across the grounds toward Calverley Old Hall. Opening the door, she steps into the coolness of the front foyer as the door clicks shut behind her. She blinks to adjust her vision to the dim light. Two small figures slowly approach from the gloom at the base of the stairs.
  Children. The older child must be one she’d heard-- and felt-- die. He gazes up at her, his face pale, his dark eyes mutely pleading. At his side is a smaller child wearing an identical white sleeping gown. The children stand before her, holding hands and watching her expectantly. She cannot move. The boys drift forward as one, and each boy reaches out his free hand to clutch at Clara. She wants to back away, but pity for them holds her in place. Clara glances down and watches their fingers sink into the indigo silk of her gown’s voluminous skirts.
       “Mama-- ”
  A loud thud on the floorboards upstairs cause all three of them to jump. The boys’ sad eyes stare up at the ceiling.
        “It’s Papa-- ”
         The familiar voice of the eldest child echoes in the back of her skull, just as the Woman’s had in the clarity of her last dream. The children’s fingers tighten on the folds of her dress.
“Stay with us. Bear witness.”
         Heavy footsteps pound toward the top of the stairs. A voice booms out:
  “Are you there with thy bastards, whore?”
         Clara yanks her skirts free of the boys’ grasp and dives for the door. The abandoned children follow, their mouths open in silent wails. She feels sorry for them, but she does not wish to stay and face the man they call Papa. Wildly, she tugs at the door-handle, feeling the cold little hands reach for her, as the heavy boots stomp down the stone steps. The door holds fast. The children begin to scream. The man’s voice is right behind her, shouting:
           “Whore! Whore! Whore-- ”

            “Wrroof! Woof-woof-- ”
            A dog barking outside summons Clara back.

~ From 'Base Spirits'- Chapter Six
Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Base-Spirits-ebook/dp/B005L38G8E
Kobo: http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Base-Spirits/book-bVfWrCigB0qRm6jfFq_MhQ/page1.html
Paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Base-Spirits-Ruth-Barrett/dp/1453643001

Today, after my weird mental wanderings, I'm find my waking imagination is unusually fired up. I'm currently working on 'In the Bag'-- book one of The Dead Drunks mystery series-- and this morning I could barely keep up with all of the ideas and plot twists and character revelations pouring down into my skull from wherever my Muse lives. I feverishly made notes and sketches for multiple scenes... finding new answers to resolve nagging plot puzzles and story gaps at every turn.

No, I am not going to set a scene at 'Ye Olde Lithuanian Pilaf Markt.'. Maybe I should!

What about you? Have you ever felt so inspired by dream imagery that you incorporated it into your fiction? Tell us about it!

Visiting a Lady's Box: More Downton-Era Manners

Yes, I know... it's been well over a month. But would you rather I posted just for the sake of posting when I am muddled by fever with nothing much to say, or else am in a crappy mood and venting my misery? No one wants to read that stuff!

Since Downton Abbey's new season has everyone wailing and sobbing over the unfair loss of a young life, I thought I'd attempt to bring some period cheer to those mourning Downton fans with another short excerpt from my coveted Downton era vintage guidebook:
'Encyclopaedia of Etiquette: What To Do, What To Say, What To Write, What To Wear- A Book of Manners for Everyday Use' by the intimidatingly correct Miss Emily Holt.

I previously shared a hilarious snippet in which Miss Holt provides the great unwashed with her strict guidelines regarding proper dining behaviour. I'm sure she did not intend any of it to be the least bit funny, which is why it tickled me so... and why that post received such joyful commentary by some of my blog followers. If you missed it, you can find it here: http://ruth-barrett-spiritedwords.blogspot.ca/2012_10_01_archive.html Definitely worth a giggle.

As promised, here is a bit more from Miss Holt regarding manners at the theatre or opera-- and I for one find it unintentionally filthy.

Not all the action takes place onstage!

"A gentleman invited to enjoy the hospitality of a lady's box at the opera or theatre does not leave his hostess more than once and then only during an intermission, for but a few moments. He never remains out of her box during an act or even a part of it, and if called out, he returns before the act begins; and he must not leave her box at all, unless some other gentleman drops in to take his place for the moment he is away."

I know. I'm twelve. I have a dirty imagination, and I admit I can't help but read this like an excerpt from a Victorian pornographic novel... and envisioning the non-stop rampant servicing of ladies' boxes by a rotating mob of horny gentlemen, all while the rest of the hoi polloi attempts to enjoy the Verdi.

Lady Grantham would be outraged. But then again, when is she not?

By the way, I am all up-to-date on my Downton Abbey viewing, despite my North American location-- I subscribe to an on-line service and watch British TV live. If you thought *that* episode was sad... well, just wait and see.

Silly Season

My tree!

Ho ho HOLY CRAP! I have been dreadful at posting lately!! A thousand apologies.

Life does get in the way. I have a lot of illness and worry in my family these days, and my energy is better spent elsewhere.

Writing DOES continue apace. I have a new, true ghost story just out in Jeff Bennington's CREEPY 3 anthology. Christmas is the traditional time for ghost stories, and there are some nice spine-tinglers in this collection. Check out mine: 'The Watcher in the Woods' about an apparition I saw just after my own near-death experience. http://www.amazon.com/Creepy-Collection-Stories-Series-ebook/dp/B00AKYD120

Another ghostly short story turned into a fourteen thousand word novelette! 'In Sarah's Room' is a period piece... a creepy slow-burn of a ghost story in the tradition of M.R. James. This anthology (tentatively entitled TREADING CLOSE BEHIND) was also aiming for a Christmas release, but the consensus of the authors means that we'll likely be releasing it through a small UK publisher instead, hopefully not too far into 2013. Look for great dark stuff from B.L. Lloyd, Shalini Boland, V.R. Christensen and myself, to name a few...

Meantime, if you're doing your holiday shopping, books are always a good choice!

BASE SPIRITS is perfect to read whilst shivering by the fireplace...
In paperback- US: http://www.amazon.com/Base-Spirits-Ruth-Barrett/dp/1453643001 Also in the UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Base-Spirits-Ruth-Barrett/dp/1453643001
In e-book format- Kindle US (but also everywhere else where Kindle is marketed!) http://www.amazon.com/Base-Spirits-ebook/dp/B005L38G8E
All other e-book formats at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/84640

I have received Scrivener ( http://www.literatureandlatte.com/scrivener.php) as an early Christmas gift, so I'm hoping it will help streamline my fiction writing process. I aim to have the first book of THE DEAD DRUNK mystery series IN THE BAG done over the winter. There's not much else to do in Stratford over the snowy months!

I wish one and all the very best of the season and a brilliant 2013. May you be surrounded by love, abundance, and good health. Enjoy every minute with your family and friends. Make merry. The rest is just so much noise.

Of 'Fearful Morsels' and Downton Abbey Manners

I admit it. I love Downton Abbey, even if it really is just a high-class soap opera.

I imagine a lot of you watch it. No doubt you giggle at the Dowager Countess and the extremity of household protocol. Surely people were never so silly!

Or were they?

I am a history nut. When digging around in musty book shops, sometimes a treasure is unearthed... like a book of etiquette from times past. One such tome is a prized possession of mine by one Emily Holt, and bears the rather florid title:

~ENCYCLOPAEDIA OF ETIQUETTE ~
~WHAT TO DO
~WHAT TO SAY
~WHAT TO WRITE
~WHAT TO WEAR
~A BOOK OF MANNERS FOR EVERYDAY USE~
[Augmented by Eight Half-Tone Illustrations]

(*Whew* I feel under scrutiny even before I crack open the cover, don't you?)

This is not an English book, but Canadian! Brought to you by the good people at Toronto's Musson Book Company Ltd., it lays it on the line for the more uppity colonials precisely how to behave in a civilized society. I cannot find a date, but I would guess it must be just about pre-WWI, due to some references to proper motorcar etiquette.

It is packed full of gems. I will share my favourite here today-- as the holidays are drawing close, and you wouldn't want to make a fatal social blunder at a dinner party, now would you?

[Tip: it is best read aloud in your most convincing Maggie Smith impersonation.]

'ACCIDENTS AT TABLE'

'MISHAPS will overtake the best regulated diner, who, however, when anything flies from the plate or lap to the floor, should allow the servant to pick it up. Should grease or jelly drop from the fork to one's person, then to remove the deposit with the napkin corner is the only remedy.

How often, oh how often! does the apparently well-conducted man or woman, when such an accident befalls, gravely wipe his or her knife on a bit of bread or the plate's edge and heedfully scrape away at the the offending morsel. This is decidedly the wrong way to do it, just as it is an egregious error thoughtfully to scrape up a bit of butter or fragment of fowl from the tablecloth where it has fallen beside the plate. At the family board this is well enough, but to do so at a restaurant or a friend's table is wholly unnecessary.

If an ill-starred individual overturns a full wine or water glass at a dinner table, profuse apologies are out of place. To give the hostess an appealing glance and say: Pray forgive me, I am very awkward, or, I must apologize for my stupidity, this is quite unforgivable, I fear, is enough.

Should a cup, glass or dish be broken through carelessness, then a quick, quiet apology can be made and within a few days sincere repentance indicated by forwarding the hostess, if possible, a duplicate of the broken article and a contrite little note.

A serious and unpleasant accident is that of taking into the mouth half done, burning hot, or tainted foods and the one course to pursue is quickly and quietly to eject the fearful morsel on the fork or spoon, whence it can be quietly laid on the plate, or into a corner of the napkin. This can be so deftly accomplished that none need suspect the state of affairs and the napkin folded over and held in the lap throughout the meal.'

(I would be tempted to add, 'Whilst the juices of the of the fearful morsel may then stealthily seep in the fabric of one's dinner jacket or evening dress, this unfortunate side-effect of one's masochistic politeness must be borne without complaint. If one has a close family relationship with the hostess, a discreet bill for the cleaning may be sent in due course with a polite request for recompense, but, in the case of business partnerships or nobility, a stiff upper lip and a greasy lap is the only remedy'.'

Until my next post, dear Reader, I remain faithfully yours,

Ms. Ruth Anne Barrett

That Way Madness Lies

Calm on the outside...

I remember as a young teen researching a class presentation for a science fair. We could choose any topic, and I took it upon myself to explore the connection between creativity and madness.

What kind of a topic is that for a fourteen year old? Ambitious! One might even say... crazy. But it's not a new concept by any stretch of the imagination: so many painters, writers, musicians, actors and creatives of all sorts are remembered just as much-- or more-- for their despair, manias, or erratic behaviour than they are for their artistic contributions to the world. As a prime example, I recall being particularly fascinated by the tragic figures of visual artists, and that they played a central role in this odd academic exercise: after all, they literally illustrated my point. I had glossy books of whirling, tormented paintings by the likes of Van Gogh and Hieronymus Bosch propped up beside my carefully assembled Bristol board musings to share with my classmates. I had sunk my teeth into my serious research with gusto, and I knew my stuff.

But?

When I stood up before a room of my contemporaries and introduced my topic, I suddenly was struck hard by the absurdity of it all. Don't get me wrong-- mental illness is no joke: I didn't think it then, and I don't think it now. But there-- in that moment-- I found it hilarious, and was possessed by a fit of the giggles. As I choked back my inappropriate hilarity and forced myself to continue, I became aware of my classmates' faces: some looked amused, but there were expressions ranging anywhere from bafflement and boredom to contempt and open dislike. "They must think I'm nuts!" I thought. That revelation did not exactly help me recapture my self-control. I stumbled through the rest of presentation, and returned-- still giggling-- to my desk.

To this day, that thought bubble is never really out of my head: "They must think I'm crazy" has been a sort of underscore to my life's journey.

This morning, I was slowly getting into my day-- I'll be working on a ghost story this afternoon-- and as  I often do, I found something interesting to watch on-line as I downed a pot of black coffee. I tend to gravitate toward history and documentaries... always in search of new story and character ideas. I found this post on Open Culture dedicated to Stephen Fry: http://www.openculture.com/2012/10/stephen_fry_friday_his_musings_on_life_swearing_depression_shakespeare_nanoscience_more.html

Perfect Saturday morning brain fodder. I love Stephen Fry. And of all the video options on this page, I chose his 'Secret Life of the Manic Depressive' that he shot for the BBC in 2006.

And it is extraordinary. And it's had me thinking.

How much madness is in any artist's 'method'? I have stacks of notebooks filled with scribbled ideas for stories. If I actually followed through on every thread I conceive, I'd never leave my desk. My dreams are epic and filled with vivid imagery and complex themes. I've always been drawn to music, acting, visual art, opera, writing, dance, comedy and film... the richness of the worlds created from pure imagination washes over me like the warmth of the sun, and I simply cannot get enough.

I've always been on the outside, observing, taking it all in. Storing it up. I hoard.

I'm weird.

I'm not saying I'm on the same level of genius as those I admire, or suffer some real form of manic depression (I don't think I do-- there seem to be such wild variations and levels that it's not impossible.) But I do wonder. What is the nature behind of all this inspiration-- this literal 'breathing in' of concepts and images, words and music? It can become overwhelming. There are times I avoid my own creativity. Sometimes I go months without 'really' writing. It's almost like I'm afraid of the obsessive quality of the process. When I let it take charge, the false world I'm inventing seems almost more vibrant and 'real' than the literal world around me.

I can contain it and function, but it sometimes makes for a difficult dance. Repression of creativity is doubly dangerous: too many times in my life, I have found myself a frustrated artistic soul. Only other creatives have any clue what inner torture it is when you are working in an office, or a bank, or retail or what have you in order to merely survive. It sucks the soul out of you. People who don't 'get it' judge you by the fact that you aren't a bestseller or starring on Broadway, and assume it's because you're a talentless hack with delusions of grandeur, and not due to the innumerable vagaries of pursuing any artistic profession. This causes the frustration to take on an even darker edge. Like the faces of the kids in my classroom, I feel aware of 'them' looking at me askance.

"They must think I'm nuts."

So-- are all creative types off-kilter? Is artistic output a coping mechanism, or is creativity itself the sort of madness that can become something wonderful when it finds its proper conduit?

I haven't found any answers yet. Maybe all humans are a bit crazy. It's the degree and the manifestation that makes all the difference.