A few months ago I was handed an advanced reader copy of A Good Hard Look by Ann Napolitano. I had no idea what to expect outside of the fact that Flannery O’Connor was a character in the novel. I couldn’t put it down once I started reading it! And Nan couldn’t put it down either. Here’s some of what she had to say about A Good Hard Look:
. . . One last thing which struck me as noteworthy about this novel, and again, being familiar with O’Connor’s stories, enables me to make this observation: grace and redemption, maybe not in their full forms, but certainly in small doses, do ring true in A Good Hard Look, for some of the characters do find a way through their chaos to befriend and help their human, as well as animal friends. Finally, I would also surmise that Napolitano also handles Flannery, the person, with respect, especially her debilitating bouts with the disease of lupus, which finally took her life in 1962. This is a novel which Mississippians and other Southerners should read, for it does take “a good hard look” at one of our very most remarkable and talented Southern writers.
We are proud to have selected A Good Hard Look as our July First Editions Club pick.
Tomorrow evening Ann Napolitano will be joining us at Lemuria for a signing (5.00) and reading (5.30).
I’ll give you a taste of the novel and Ann Napolitano’s own story by sharing part of an interview between Sarah Hutson of Penguin and Ann Napolitano. They were kind enough to share it with us in full, but do join us tomorrow!
Did you know from the beginning that Flannery O’Connor would feature so prominently in your novel?
When I started A Good Hard Look, I had no idea Flannery O’Connor would come anywhere near the novel. If you’d told me she would be one of the characters, I would have said you were crazy. I had no aspiration to write historical fiction and I hadn’t read any of Flannery’s work in about a decade.
Initially, the book was about a character called Melvin Whiteson, who lived in New York in the present day. I had the idea of this very wealthy man who’d been given every opportunity, but didn’t know what to do with those opportunities. I was interested in the question of how people choose to live their lives.
The novel wasn’t working though; I think Melvin was more of an idea than a character. It was about a year into the book that Flannery O’Connor showed up out of the blue—creatively speaking—though in hindsight, I can see that she embodies for me this idea of a “life well-lived”. Her appearance changed everything, of course. The time period, the setting, the heartbeat of the novel. I think she also provided the contrast that Melvin required to come to life as a character, and really, to shape the rest of the narrative.
Have you always been a fan?
I read her stories in college, like every other dutiful English major. The stories awed me for their precision, their fierceness of thought, their grim beauty. I didn’t love the stories, though—they seemed too harsh; they felt so alien to me, as a northern, somewhat gentle, novice writer.
My true fandom began my senior year, when I was assigned the collection of her letters, The Habit of Being. Flannery’s letters are wonderful—she’s irreverent and sarcastic and kind and generous. She’s accessible, and even sweet in a way you’d never guess from her fiction. I fell in love with her then.
I also connected with the content of the letters, which spoke directly to the circumstances of my life. Flannery chronicled her battle with lupus; when I read the letters, I was also sick. I’d been diagnosed with the Epstein-Barr virus, an auto-immune disease, six months earlier. As it turned out, I would be ill for the next three years, and the symptoms had already dissembled my highly active, twenty-year-old life.
I had what Oprah would probably call an “A-ha moment” while reading those letters. Flannery wrote about coming to terms with her changed situation, and deciding to focus her limited energy where it would matter most—in her writing. I consciously sized up my own life in a similar manner. I had always loved writing, but I lacked the confidence to declare myself a writer.
After I graduated, I planned to work in publishing, or something book-related. I would surround myself with other people’s words, and maybe write my own in secret, as a hobby. But my illness, and Flannery’s example, offered up a new clarity. I was able to appreciate, in a way my obnoxiously healthy twenty-year-old peers couldn’t, the real brevity of life. I could see how important it was to make each moment meaningful, and to make my life matter somehow. Because of Flannery, I decided to become a writer.
How did you go about creating Flannery, the character?
When she showed up in the novel—which felt right, intuitively—I was terrified. I did a lot of research, of course. I started by reading everything I could get my hands on. I re-read Flannery’s stories, her essays and two novels. I read the one existing biography on her, and several critical essays about her work. I visited Andalusia (the Georgia farm where she lived with her mother) and walked all over Milledgeville.
The real answer though is that it took me years to create “my Flannery”. I was so scared to misrepresent her that I avoided going into her head for a long time. I thought that if I depicted her from a distance, I would be less likely to mess her up. Not shockingly, that was a limited path. It was only when I truly committed to her presence in the story that she came to life.
As someone who has always lived in the Northeast, did you have any hesitation writing about one of the greats of southern literature?
Yes. When I showed the first draft to one of my closest writer friends, who happens to be from Alabama, she raised an eyebrow and said, “Really? You’re going to write about the South?” She meant it as a challenge, and I took it as such.
The South has a rich, deep history, and that extends to their literary history. If you think about it, many of our greatest American writers are Southern—William Faulkner, Harper Lee, Mark Twain, Alice Walker, Eudora Welty, Katherine Anne Porter, Carson McCullers, to name a few—and the South takes a rightful pride in that heritage. You could even say that they’re territorial about it, and I certainly felt the risk in not only placing the book in the South, but in taking on one of their literary icons. I moved forward simply because I felt compelled to do so. But the book took seven years to write, in part because I knew I would hate to be accused of disrespecting the legacy I was treading on.
How did you go about creating Flannery, the character?
When she showed up in the novel—which felt right, intuitively—I was terrified. I did a lot of research, of course. I started by reading everything I could get my hands on. I re-read Flannery’s stories, her essays and two novels. I read the one existing biography on her, and several critical essays about her work. I visited Andalusia (the Georgia farm where she lived with her mother) and walked all over Milledgeville.
The real answer though is that it took me years to create “my Flannery”. I was so scared to misrepresent her that I avoided going into her head for a long time. I thought that if I depicted her from a distance, I would be less likely to mess her up. Not shockingly, that was a limited path. It was only when I truly committed to her presence in the story that she came to life.
As someone who has always lived in the Northeast, did you have any hesitation writing about one of the greats of southern literature?
Yes. When I showed the first draft to one of my closest writer friends, who happens to be from Alabama, she raised an eyebrow and said, “Really? You’re going to write about the South?” She meant it as a challenge, and I took it as such. The South has a rich, deep history, and that extends to their literary history. If you think about it, many of our greatest American writers are Southern—William Faulkner, Harper Lee, Mark Twain, Alice Walker, Eudora Welty, Katherine Anne Porter, Carson McCullers, to name a few—and the South takes a rightful pride in that heritage. You could even say that they’re territorial about it, and I certainly felt the risk in not only placing the book in the South, but in taking on one of their literary icons. I moved forward simply because I felt compelled to do so. But the book took seven years to write, in part because I knew I would hate to be accused of disrespecting the legacy I was treading on.
Your characters are so vivid—and beautifully and tragically human: Cookie, the perfect Southern wife, who is afraid to look too closely at herself or others; Lona, the seamstress, who sleepwalks through life, until she makes the fateful decision to feed her own needs and desires; Flannery, whose sharp perception and ironclad devotion to writing pushes most people away; Melvin, the fortunate son, who is content to simply be content until he suffers the greatest of losses. Do you have a favorite character—or is that akin to asking a parent which child they like best?
It’s interesting—about a month ago a wonderful website called This Recording had a piece on Flannery that included a few photos of her I had never seen (a feat, because during my research for the novel I thought I’d seen them all) and I found myself tearing up. I was surprised at how emotional I became, and I wanted to understand why my response was so strong. How had my heart gotten this wrapped up in Flannery? Was it unhealthy to feel this attached to her? What did it mean?
What I concluded was that if I were able to see a photo of Melvin or Cookie or Lona, I would likely respond the same way. Most writers never get a chance to see photographs of their characters, because they’re fictional. My characters are equally real to me, even though Flannery is the only one that’s actually real. Does this mean I’ll cry every time I see a photograph of her? I certainly hope not.
How did you go about creating Flannery, the character?
When she showed up in the novel—which felt right, intuitively—I was terrified. I did a lot of research, of course. I started by reading everything I could get my hands on. I re-read Flannery’s stories, her essays and two novels. I read the one existing biography on her, and several critical essays about her work. I visited Andalusia (the Georgia farm where she lived with her mother) and walked all over Milledgeville.
The real answer though is that it took me years to create “my Flannery”. I was so scared to misrepresent her that I avoided going into her head for a long time. I thought that if I depicted her from a distance, I would be less likely to mess her up. Not shockingly, that was a limited path. It was only when I truly committed to her presence in the story that she came to life.
As someone who has always lived in the Northeast, did you have any hesitation writing about one of the greats of southern literature?
Yes. When I showed the first draft to one of my closest writer friends, who happens to be from Alabama, she raised an eyebrow and said, “Really? You’re going to write about the South?” She meant it as a challenge, and I took it as such. The South has a rich, deep history, and that extends to their literary history. If you think about it, many of our greatest American writers are Southern—William Faulkner, Harper Lee, Mark Twain, Alice Walker, Eudora Welty, Katherine Anne Porter, Carson McCullers, to name a few—and the South takes a rightful pride in that heritage. You could even say that they’re territorial about it, and I certainly felt the risk in not only placing the book in the South, but in taking on one of their literary icons. I moved forward simply because I felt compelled to do so. But the book took seven years to write, in part because I knew I would hate to be accused of disrespecting the legacy I was treading on.
Your characters are so vivid—and beautifully and tragically human: Cookie, the perfect Southern wife, who is afraid to look too closely at herself or others; Lona, the seamstress, who sleepwalks through life, until she makes the fateful decision to feed her own needs and desires; Flannery, whose sharp perception and ironclad devotion to writing pushes most people away; Melvin, the fortunate son, who is content to simply be content until he suffers the greatest of losses. Do you have a favorite character—or is that akin to asking a parent which child they like best?
It’s interesting—about a month ago a wonderful website called This Recording had a piece on Flannery that included a few photos of her I had never seen (a feat, because during my research for the novel I thought I’d seen them all) and I found myself tearing up. I was surprised at how emotional I became, and I wanted to understand why my response was so strong. How had my heart gotten this wrapped up in Flannery? Was it unhealthy to feel this attached to her? What did it mean?
What I concluded was that if I were able to see a photo of Melvin or Cookie or Lona, I would likely respond the same way. Most writers never get a chance to see photographs of their characters, because they’re fictional. My characters are equally real to me, even though Flannery is the only one that’s actually real. Does this mean I’ll cry every time I see a photograph of her? I certainly hope not.
How did you go about creating Flannery, the character?
When she showed up in the novel—which felt right, intuitively—I was terrified. I did a lot of research, of course. I started by reading everything I could get my hands on. I re-read Flannery’s stories, her essays and two novels. I read the one existing biography on her, and several critical essays about her work. I visited Andalusia (the Georgia farm where she lived with her mother) and walked all over Milledgeville.
The real answer though is that it took me years to create “my Flannery”. I was so scared to misrepresent her that I avoided going into her head for a long time. I thought that if I depicted her from a distance, I would be less likely to mess her up. Not shockingly, that was a limited path. It was only when I truly committed to her presence in the story that she came to life.
As someone who has always lived in the Northeast, did you have any hesitation writing about one of the greats of southern literature?
Yes. When I showed the first draft to one of my closest writer friends, who happens to be from Alabama, she raised an eyebrow and said, “Really? You’re going to write about the South?” She meant it as a challenge, and I took it as such. The South has a rich, deep history, and that extends to their literary history. If you think about it, many of our greatest American writers are Southern—William Faulkner, Harper Lee, Mark Twain, Alice Walker, Eudora Welty, Katherine Anne Porter, Carson McCullers, to name a few—and the South takes a rightful pride in that heritage. You could even say that they’re territorial about it, and I certainly felt the risk in not only placing the book in the South, but in taking on one of their literary icons. I moved forward simply because I felt compelled to do so. But the book took seven years to write, in part because I knew I would hate to be accused of disrespecting the legacy I was treading on.
Your characters are so vivid—and beautifully and tragically human: Cookie, the perfect Southern wife, who is afraid to look too closely at herself or others; Lona, the seamstress, who sleepwalks through life, until she makes the fateful decision to feed her own needs and desires; Flannery, whose sharp perception and ironclad devotion to writing pushes most people away; Melvin, the fortunate son, who is content to simply be content until he suffers the greatest of losses. Do you have a favorite character—or is that akin to asking a parent which child they like best?
It’s interesting—about a month ago a wonderful website called This Recording had a piece on Flannery that included a few photos of her I had never seen (a feat, because during my research for the novel I thought I’d seen them all) and I found myself tearing up. I was surprised at how emotional I became, and I wanted to understand why my response was so strong. How had my heart gotten this wrapped up in Flannery? Was it unhealthy to feel this attached to her? What did it mean?
What I concluded was that if I were able to see a photo of Melvin or Cookie or Lona, I would likely respond the same way. Most writers never get a chance to see photographs of their characters, because they’re fictional. My characters are equally real to me, even though Flannery is the only one that’s actually real. Does this mean I’ll cry every time I see a photograph of her? I certainly hope not.
There are many books out there about kids with ADHD, but how does a parent cultivate and reinforce good social skills, self-confidence and self-control into a busy day?
When I hear about recipes designed for those with special nutritional needs or food allergies, I instantly think that I will never get all the ingredients together. That’s not the case with Allergy Proof Recipes for Kids. Designed by two moms, this cookbook is beautiful, simple and educational.
I never thought we could possible sell more copies of 
And today I am reading a professional book industry publication and I see this headline: “The Help Boosts Mississippi Tourism.” Well, I guess I should have known this was coming: Jackson offers two self-guided tours, one for Jackson and one for Belhaven. And Greenwood has seen an increase in demand for tours.
The evening of August 4, 2011 at Lemuria’s events building was like no other evening. The evening was devoted to Ed Grissom, a lifelong customer of Lemuria with a lifelong passion for Ernest Hemingway. Lemuria owner John Evans recalls the events that led to meeting Ed 33 years ago:
Besides the evening being a reunion of sorts for many old time customers of Lemuria, we marveled at Ed’s accomplishment in the most descriptive and complete Hemingway bibliography. John reflects:
Ed brought some of his Hemingway editions that he has been collecting for 50 years. Starting the collection with a purchase of a friend’s personal collection, Ed gradually began to expand the collection on his own.
Determined, Ed eventually made contact with the highly respected Fitzgerald scholar, Matthew Bruccoli. He was tough but gave his stamp of approval on the project. And finally on August 4th Ed could proudly stand with his bibliography in hand, having made it through many obstacles for which his life as a medical doctor could not have prepared him. John described his accomplishment well:
Dean Faulkner Wells passed away yesterday at the age of 75 after suffering a collapsed lung. Dean Faulkner Wells was the niece of William Faulkner and he became her legal guardian shortly before she was born when her father died in a plane crash.
When Preston Lauterbach set out to write 
Soon I started to hear a lot about a guy named 
My debut novel, The Reservoir, a historical mystery, came out three weeks ago, and so far I’ve presented it in seven independent bookstores, with another eight lined up for the weeks ahead. All of these events have been very positive experiences, with friendly staffs and enthusiastic audiences. By offering readings in which new authors such as myself can bring out their work, the indies are helping keep the book industry alive and thriving. Can you imagine if there were no bars and cafes for new bands to debut their sound and gain local followings, if all music was expected to make a sudden leap to coliseums and concert halls? Imagine the lack of variety if artists had no local galleries to show their work.