Customer Reviews

What I Think I Did: A Season of Survival in Two Acts

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Woiwode is one of America's finest prose stylists; folks who remember some of his novels and short stories were looking forward to this book. What I Think I Did has an interesting parallel plot that moves back and forth between a bitterly cold North Dakota winter and Woiwode's early career as a writer for The New Yorker. I was so caught up in the description of a North Dakota blizzard that I forgot I was reading a memoir, and was terrified that the main character was going to freeze to death trying to get back to the house. Things that seem unimportant in other settings (keeping the woodstove going; driving home from the post office or the store) become feats of courage! I also loved the description of Woiwode's early career as a writer in New York. His passion for his work and admiration for William Maxwell (New Yorker editor and novelist) offer a fascinating glimpse into the life of a young writer. Woiwode comes from the same generation of writers as Andre Dubus and John Updike, and is easily their peer; he has a clear and eloquent prose style that makes a lot of today's novels sound klunky. (Hint: If you haven't read Woiwode's earlier books, you might like his family novels, which I love, for their depth and scope; and he writes amazing short stories, too.)

This was my first exposure to Larry Woiwode. At first, I was leery, his prose seemed so grand. It required time on my part, as this was not a book that could be read superficially.

But instead of drifting away from it as happens so often for me when real work is required, I was drawn in. I was captivated by the his ability to convey the raw, honest love he has for his children. I was compelled by the ongoing battle he has with the new furnace. And the flashbacks served to enrich rather than distract me. The book left me filled with image and emotion. I understand that this may be a memoir in trilogy. I eagerly await further installments.

...one of the best books about writing ever. And so indirect, too. Woiwode never comes out and tells the reader what it's like to be a writer, but he's captured it perfectly. The book is full of all kinds of images, too, which makes it an intense reading experience. I feel like I really know him. When I finished it, I went back to the beginning to see how he started. I loved reading about the people he knew in New York, particularly William Maxwell, about the University of Illinois and about his children.

This is a compelling memoir, I read it in two days. Woiwode is truly a master artist with language -- his sentences sing on the page, and you can nearly feel the atmosphere of his own brooding and composing as he puts the words down.Language is his real life's story, not the events he records -- if you're looking for "story" of a hip life in New York with DeNiro and publishers, it's not here. Prose and poetry is, though For me, the most emotionally driven parts of this book came toward the end, in Woiwode's recollections of the days that preceded his first novel -- the struggle to find a topic, to move from story to novel form, the mentoring love flowing to him from William Maxwell. The North Dakota sections felt more strained to me, as though written for language's sake more than for emotional commitment to the material. And this is the odd effect for me of the book -- Woiwode's words are deep, complex, subtle, gorgeous, yet I closed the book feeling he'd kept me on the surface of his felt life. There's a weird illusion of deeply felt experience conjured by words -- but Woiwode himself and his friends, family, colleagues, remained removed or hidden behind prose. Only Maxwell makes it through the veil,vibrant, living. I recommend this book for people who love the memoir form in all its variety, people who worship words, writers who can share with Woiwode the drive to compose and be heard. Not for "story" people or those out for exciting DeNiro peeks. All said, we need writers like Woiowde, who never compromise a sentence. He celebrates the salvation in words themselves.

I'm pretty sure I read Woiwode's first novel, What I'm Going to Do, I Think, about 30 or 40 years ago, but I can't really remember much about it. In any case, quite frankly, I enjoyed the heck out of this particular book. Like Woiwode, I was a good Catholic boy and grew up loving books, so there was much for me to relate to here. At first I was a bit bamboozled by the roundabout style of this book, i.e. the way his story is not so neatly framed by another story about how Woiwode and his family fight to survive during a devastating North Dakota blizzard, a natural disaster further exacerbated by problems with a new outdoor woodburning furnace. But it soon began to make sense, to flow smoothly. As a lover of books and writing, I was especially interested in all of the writer and other celebrity friends (a 19-20 yr-old fledgling actor, "Bob" DeNiro, for example)and acquaintances he made during the early days of his career. It's not just name-dropping either. There are stories about Updike, Norman Mailer, Robert Lowell, John Berryman, Randall Jarrell and others. But the most central literary figure in Woiwode's story is William Maxwell, the consumate editor and extraordinary writer who became Larry's friend, mentor and father figure. This is also very much a coming-of-age story as the artist as a boy and then young man gropes his way toward maturity, finding, finally, lasting love with a college sweetheart. Woiwode's deep faith is also much in evidence throughout the story. I very much enjoyed this book and look forward to reading his new memoir very soon. - Tim Bazzett, author of the Reed City Boy trilogy

If you have ever struggled trying to find the rhythm of reading Woiwode, here is the book to start. His voice is clear and the story is powerful. Well worth the effort.

While I was reading this book I began to think about Henry Miller's Tropic Of Cancer. Although written in prose, Miller's piece is a fantastic poem nearly all the way through. Woiwode's book comes close at parts. You can tell this was written by a true writer.

At times he becomes too embroiled in givng us every detail (such as about how to fix a furnace), but at other times his writing is true insight into the complex facade and machinery that make up the fabric of human awareness. The ending of the book is wonderful: memories bending and folding out of each other . And (for a writer like me) his story's excitement of becoming a contract writer at The New Yorker, is stimulating and inspirational.

A great book. I'm going to buy What I'm Going To Do, I Think right now!

Let me just say that I'm biased about Larry Woiwode's work, since my wife and I know Larry and Carol. We attended the same church when we all lived in the Chicago area in the mid 70's. So it was a fascinating look at their lives, and how their children have grown. But besides all of that, I've always liked his novels, "Beyond the Bedroom Wall" and "Born Brothers." Larry Woiwode writes with a sense of depth that few writers do--he can be profoundly spiritual, yet honest about hard, heart issues. I found "What I think I Did" to be a fascinating look at a period of time before we actually met. I greatly appreciated his relationship with William Maxwell, and to consider some of the process of becoming a published author. To have Maxwell as a mentor was interesting to read about. Onetime, in Chicago, Larry encouraged me to continue writing; I wish he could have mentored me. My daughter(degree in philosophy) considers Woiwode's work to be among the best in modern America--I'm going to give her a copy of this memoir for her birthday. My only criticism of this memoir is that I was sometimes confused by the sudden transitions--were we in North Dakota in 1996, or in New York City in the 60's? But I loved the book and look forward to future musings. He made winter and furnaces interesting!

This is the one book to read if you're interested in what Robert de Niro was like in his early days, before he had made any movies and was just a good-looking, cocky kid in New York, the son of two artists (Robert De Niro Sr and Virginia Admiral) who, as Woiwode points out, deserved to be far better known. Nineteen when Woiwode encounters him in a drama about disabled folk, the blind, De Niro eventually becomes one of Woiwode's very closest friends. One dramatic episode details the renting of a U-Haul to meet De Niro Senior at the docks, where, after some time in France, he has arrived with a cabinful of oil paintings, some of them comically oversized.

Woiwode also spends some time detailing the genesis of his own writing career. He seems to have been the golden boy at Urbana, then in New York the urbane and married William Maxwell took him in under his wing and made sure his stories were published in THE NEW YORKER and that his first novel was picked up by FARRAR STRAUS & GIROUX. Every boy should have a good pal like De Niro and a good older gentleman friend like Maxwell--and the talent, of course, to back it up.

Woiwode must be overstating things when. among the list of the other famous writers Maxwell worked with, he includes Frank O'Hara. Could he be mixing him up with John O'Hara here? Many do who haven't read either.

quite an enjoyable read. i enjoy woiwode's work immensly, his commentary is refreshing, and the read insightful.