Tag: Author Interview (Page 5 of 14)

Author Q & A with Helen Ellis

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (April 21)

Alabama native and author Helen Ellis has lived in New York City for more than a quarter century, but says she still wears her accent “on her sleeve,” which explains why her newest book is titled Southern Lady Code.

The premise of the 23 true essays which capture as many hilarious and often poignant episodes she’s gotten herself into, is one simple rule: “If you don’t have something nice to say, you say something not so nice in a nice way.”

Ellis also authored Eating the Cheshire Cat and American Housewife. In addition to–and often instead of–calling herself a writer, she also proudly claims the title of “housewife.”

A serious poker plays who learned the game from her father as a child, Ellis competes on the national tournament circuit. She and her husband happily reside in Manhattan.

You grew up in Tuscaloosa and, at age 22, you left for New York City in hopes of becoming a writer. Tell me about the career twists that landed you in the role of housewife–which eventually, with the help of Twitter, led to your success as a writer.

Helen Ellis

It was 1992, and Idressed in my Talbot’s turtleneck, ankle-length wool plaid skirt, and penny loaferswalked from publishing house to publishing house, dropping my resume at reception desks like calling cards. I had the hopes of being an editorial assistant, but no publishing house called me. I walked into Talbots and got a job on the spot.

Two years later, I got a job at a financial magazine with the hopes of being an editorial assistant. They hired me to drum up subscriptions. I met a young reporter, who drummed up my heart.

A year later, I got into the NYU creative writing program, temped as a secretary, and through that temp agency, landed a long-term job in the chairman’s office of Chanel. I worked four days a week and wrote three.

Scribner published my first book, Eating the Cheshire Cat, in 2000.

I married that young reporter, who became an editor, in 2001.

And then I wrote another book, and nobody published it. And then I wrote another book, and nobody published it. And then I quit my secretarial job to write full time, supported by my husband, wrote another book, and nobody published it. And then I quit writing, and nobody cared.

I settled into a happy life as a housewife. And when people asked me what I did, I didn’t say writer, I said, “Housewife.” The next question was always: “What do you do all day?” I started an anonymous twitter account called @WhatIDoAllDay.

I tweeted about housework and hosting parties and book clubs and the beauty of banality. And then I wrote a story about how a housewife cleans up murders. And then I wrote a story about a book club recruiting a new member with a sinister motive. And then I wrote about what a woman left to her own devices could ultimately do all day. I wrote what I knew. And, 16 years after my first novel, Doubleday published my short story collection, American Housewife. And three years after that, they’ve published Southern Lady Code. This time, the stories are all true.

Explain the phrase “Southern Lady Code,” and how it became the title of your newest book.

Southern Lady Code is: if you don’t have something nice to say, say something not so nice, in a nice way. Twenty-five years in Manhattan, I kept finding myself translating what I’d say to people. “She’s a character” means drunk. Or “He’s an archivist” means hoarder. Or “Bless her heart” means “What an idiot.”

I’ve been tweeting these translations for more than five years. I turned some of those tweets into a short story in “American Housewife.” My … true stories … are now this book. Each essay has a line of code. So, for example, in “Making a Marriage Magically Tidy” I write about how my husband fell in love with a “creative” woman. “Creative” is Southern Lady Code for slob.

The essays which make up Southern Lady Code are not only hilarious, but packed with meaning that makes us pause. Tell me how humor has been important in your life, and how it has become your signature writing style.

I come from a funny family. Some of the best times I’ve had have been at funerals, where relatives and friends try and outdo each other with the most outrageous memories of the deceased. With humor, you can ease pain. And with humor, you can be honest. It’s easier to get your point across when you make the person you’re pointing at laugh. Especially when you’re pointing at yourself.

Poker has been a passion of yours since childhood. Tell us about its role in your life.

There have been times when I wasn’t writing, but I’ve always played poker. Poker is a chance for me to really be myself. I can be nice, but I don’t have to play nice. I can be at the table, but I don’t have to entertain. I can confront bullies and make them back down. I can be brave. And when I lose, and I most certainly do lose, I know there’s always another game. And as with after my losses in writing, when I am lucky enough to win and get published, the success is all the sweeter.

I’ve interviewed many writers who, like you, have moved away from the South, yet no matter how much time passes, they still consider themselves to be Southerners. How would you explain that sentiment?  

My roots run deep. And I wear my accent on my sleeve.

Helen Ellis will be at Lemuria on Wednesday, April 24, at 5:00 p.m. to sign and discuss Southern Lady Code.

Author Q & A with Ali Benjamin

Interview with Ali Benjamin by Oz Books manager Trianne Harabedian.

Ali Benjamin is the author of two middle-grade books, the newly released The Next Great Paulie Fink and 2015’s The Thing About Jellyfish, which was a finalist for the National Book Award for Young People’s Literature. Benjamin will be at Lemuria on Thursday, April 25, at 5:00 to sign and read from The Next Great Paulie Fink.

Where are you from, and where do you live now?

Ali Benjamin

I grew up about an hour from New York City, in a community along the Hudson River. At the time, my hometown was where NYC suburbs gave way to something more ex-urban. As a result, my schools had kids from varied socioeconomic backgrounds. There were the “commuting” families, who tended to be wealthier and white collar, as well as many less affluent blue-collar workers.

Most houses in my neighborhood were newer ranch houses (often with freshly mowed lawns). My family’s home was…different. It was about 200 years old, with peeling paint and the occasional rotting floorboard. Most of the neighborhood kids thought it was haunted (though I never saw evidence of that). My parents were hippies, which other families in the neighborhood definitely were not! It’s funny; my sister became an award-winning documentary filmmaker, and I became a writer. Sometimes I wonder if growing up a little different from your peers is a natural springboard into storytelling!

We had lots of freedom back then; kids wandered the neighborhood, organizing games of kick-the-can or flashlight tag. I tried to capture some of that sense of freedom and expansiveness in The Next Great Paulie Fink. In fact, there’s a story within the book about a game of team-tag that comes directly from a specific moment in the neighborhood!

Today I live in Western Massachusetts—I’m only a few miles from both the Vermont and New York state borders. There are still many small farms in this area, so I’ve had a little experience with goats, an animal that appears repeatedly in The Next Great Paulie Fink!

Can you tell us, in your own words, what The Next Great Paulie Fink is about?

The Next Great Paulie Fink is about an oddball group of seventh grade students who organize a reality TV-style competition to “replace” their legendary class clown, Paulie Fink, who mysteriously doesn’t return at the start of the school year. The story goes back and forth between a straightforward narrative—told through the eyes of “new girl” Caitlyn, who is reluctantly put in charge of the competition—and interviews with Caitlyn’s classmates as they share memories of Paulie’s most ingenious pranks.

But the book is also about the stories we tell each other and to ourselves: how can we know if the stories we tell are “true?” Where, exactly, is the line between reality and myth? What if the stories we tell ourselves no longer serve us? Who might we get to become if we choose a new story? The book is also about celebrity culture; whom we elevate into legendary status, and why, and whether we ever know these idols —or anyone—as well as we think we do. These bigger questions, though, are woven into a very lighthearted narrative, so kids can access the book at different levels.

Even though the kids in the book talk a lot about Paulie Fink, the story is really about Caitlyn Breen. What made you want to tell her story?

A couple of years ago, I got ahold of my middle school diary. I was so excited to read it and become reacquainted with my 12-year-old self. I thought I remembered, more or less, who I’d been back then. In my memory, I’d been a nice kid—kind of nerdy, very distracted, pretty immature, and definitely in over my head in the chaotic world of middle school. But I was kind…or so I thought.

Except that’s not what the pages showed me. My diary was filled with page after page of nasty comments about my classmates, my friends, my family, my teachers. I was also obsessed with where I stood in the middle school hierarchy, almost as if I were a reality star trying to claw my way toward the top. But as I read through the pages with my adult eyes, I could also see how incredibly insecure I was, how lost. And of course, that’s precisely why I was so mean! Genuinely confident people don’t need to put others down.

Caitlyn’s in a similar place as I’d been. At the story’s start, she’s not particularly nice, and she’s clinging to “rules” that she thinks will help her gain social currency. But as the competition to find the Next Great Paulie Fink unfolds, she begins to realize that those old ways aren’t actually serving her. So, she begins to do what my middle school self wasn’t able to: to set down her obsession with popularity, to really see and value the people around her, and to have a little fun for a change. I think I gave to Caitlyn what I myself needed when I was in middle school!

Can you tell us about myths and legends and why they’re so important in this book?

Stories drive the world forward. They always have. They don’t merely reflect who we are, and what we value, they actually shape us in ways that are active and direct. This is something I tried to show throughout the book. For example, at a critical moment, Caitlyn thinks of a kindergarten student who idolizes her. By asking herself, “what if I were the person this child sees? What would that version of me do now?” she’s able to become a little better than she might have been otherwise.

Every character in The Next Great Paulie Fink gets the opportunity to try on a new story. In doing so, they open themselves to new possibilities. Their worlds get a little richer.

And it’s worth noting that no story—not even a true story, in which every element is 100 percent factually accurate—ever reflects the full reality of this world. Every story involves a series of choices: who is the protagonist? Who’s the villain or the scapegoat? Which details are brought to the forefront? Which are left out altogether? These choices are what makes it a story, instead of merely a collection of facts.

Too often, our stories are so baked into our experiences that we don’t notice them. We’re like fish who don’t notice the water we’re swimming in! The Next Great Paulie Fink is a very lighthearted way to explore some of these issues.

What is the most important lesson that you want us to take away from this story?

First, I hope it gives kids permission to let themselves have some fun. The kids in The Next Great Paulie Fink are goofy. They’re totally un-self-conscious. They love to laugh and to be silly. They do ridiculous dances. They wrestle like zombies. They imitate robots and aliens, chase runaway goats, and they love every minute of it! I’d like to see more kids give themselves permission to be so free.

Second, I hope the book encourages them to think critically about their world. Human beings tell each other, and themselves, a lot of stories. Not all of them are true. Some of them have elements of truth, but are inherently incomplete. I wanted to give kids a way to begin to really examine the stories that drive them, to open themselves up to the possibility that their stories are part of a much bigger tapestry. The more they can see that, the bigger, and more meaningful, their lives can become.

Author Q & A with Shelby Harriel

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (April 14)

Shelby Harriel fell in love with history at a young age when she was shocked to find out that her own state had left its country in order to start a new one.

That curiosity eventually led to published research in newspapers, magazine, website, and blogs about the role of women in the Civil War.

Her new book, Behind the Rifle: Women Soldiers in Civil War Mississippi (University Press of Mississippi) encompasses much of that information, with an emphasis on women’s motivation to secretly join the military and fight, the hard work they put in alongside the men in their units, and the roads they paved for a future for women in the military.

By day, Harriel may be found at Pearl River Community College in Poplarville–teaching . . . math!

Please tell me about your long interest in history–and specifically, the Civil War and women who fought in the Civil War. Do you have an approximate number or percentage on the fighting force that were women?

Shelby Harriel

I became interested in the Civil War in elementary school when we were first introduced to the subject in our Mississippi History class. I was absolutely fascinated to learn that my state had left the United States and formed a whole new country. I had to find out more. Eventually, my studies led me to participate in reenacting, but I just couldn’t find my niche. As an athlete my entire life … sitting on the sidelines in a hoop skirt never appealed to me. I was more interested in learning about the experiences of the common soldier.

One day, (someone) remarked that there were women who served as soldiers. Suddenly, I found a whole new exciting realm to direct my interest and research. That was in the late 1990s when researchers began to take a fresh new look at women soldiers, and books were published. So, I had all this new exciting material to consume. The more I read, the more questions I had. This naturally led to me examining primary sources myself. Soon, I had accumulated a great deal of new research that I felt needed a broader audience.

We will never know how many women served as soldiers during the Civil War because they were hidden behind male disguises. Estimates range from the hundreds to the thousands. When you consider that millions of men fought, this number is insignificant. There weren’t that many of them.

What motivated women–some as young as 16–to risk the dangers and hardships of war by secretly enlisting in the military and fighting in the Civil War, disguised as men–and how did they get through the physical exams that allowed them to pass as men?

In some cases, it was the same motivational factors that led men to enlist that also prompted women to join the ranks: patriotism, adventure, and economic opportunities. There weren’t many well-paying, respectable jobs available for women then. But when they disguised themselves as men, they could double or triple their income in a variety of jobs previously closed to them. This afforded them a more independent lifestyle they would not have been able to enjoy in traditional feminine roles. Women also enlisted to avoid separation from male loved ones who went off to war. Other women joined to escape these male family members. Vengeance for a fallen loved one led some women to enlist–or attempt to.

Military regulations called for a soldier to strip for a medical exam upon entering the service. However, pressure to fill depleting ranks or incompetency resulted in cursory examinations where, in some cases, all surgeons did was to ensure that a recruit had a working trigger finger and two good teeth to tear the paper cartridge that held the ammunition. There are quite a few accounts of soldiers testifying that all they had to do was to show their hands and teeth. Some women even had men take the exam for them. So it was actually not terribly difficult for a woman to get past the examination. There are accounts, however, of thorough examining surgeons discovering women trying to sneak into the ranks.

You point out several times in your book Behind the Rifle that pursuing research into the stories and even the names of women who fought in the Civil War is difficult. Could you explain why this was, and do you plan to continue your efforts to identify these women and tell their stories?

At the time, women could not serve in the military, so if a woman wanted to join the army, she had to disguise herself as a man. She cut her hair, put on male clothing, and assumed a male alias. It was actually not that difficult because they did not have forms of identification, but it was a risky venture. Back then, it was not only illegal but also socially unacceptable for a woman to even wear pants. If caught, she served jail time and/or paid a fine. Clothing defined the genders, and anybody caught crossing those lines brought shame upon themselves and their families.

If these women were caught, they often told newspaper reporters wrong information about themselves–including their own feminine name–so this information would not get back home to their families. Sometimes, writers would afford women privacy by not reporting their name, or by assigning them another alias. There is also evidence that the military may have expunged the records of women soldiers. There are instances where male soldiers were court martialed when women soldiers were discovered in their units. Therefore, it is not surprising that many people didn’t want these stories told–making it excruciatingly difficult for those who do want to tell them.

Yes, I plan to continue researching women soldiers because I think there is more to learn. All it takes is the discovery of one soldier’s letter or diary entry, or one newspaper article to provide a missing piece of the puzzle-such as a correct name–that will either bring that woman’s story to fruition or debunk it.

I plan to include new research in a second book on women soldiers. It will have a broader focus that will encompass all women soldiers of the Civil War, not just those with Mississippi connections.

All in all, what would you say these women, who fought on both sides, contributed to the war effort–and why do we need to know about them?

As mentioned earlier, they were statistically irrelevant. Their presence on the battlefield didn’t change the course of an engagement or the war. They weren’t there promoting social change. They weren’t feminists fighting for women’s rights. These women were simply uncommon soldiers experiencing the common trials of war alongside men. They performed the same duties as men, endured the same hardships. They suffered debilitating wounds. They sacrificed their lives for causes that men shared. And we should honor them all the same. These women soldiers helped pave the way for women to serve in our current military.

Shelby Harriel will be at Lemuria on Saturday, May 4, at 2:00 p.m. to sign and discuss Behind the Rifle: Women Soldiers in Civil War Mississippi.

Author Q & A with Nell Freudenberger

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (April 7)

In her latest novel, Lost and Wanted, Nell Freudenberger’s admitted “language brain” delves deeply into the world of science, as complicated theories meet complicated characters–both of whom merit the time and curiosity of an intense examination.

Named one of The New Yorker‘s “20 Under 40” nearly a decade ago, Freudenberger is one author whose career continues to shine, collecting an impressive array of awards along the way.

As the author of novels The Newlyweds and The Dissident and the story collection Lucky Girls (which was awarded the Sue Kaufman Prize for First Fiction afrom the American Academy of Arts and Letters), Freudenberger has also captured a Guggenheim Fellowship, a Whitling Award, and a Cullman Fellowship from the New York Public Library.

She and her family make their home in Brooklyn.

In a book as much about relationships as science, Lost and Wanted tugs at heartstrings even as it posits scientific theories of Nobel Prize level. To set the stage, please tell us briefly about main characters Helen, Charlie, Terrance, and Neel.

Helen is a theoretical physicist at MIT, who had a baby on her own in her late 30s. Her primary relationships are with her son, Jack, and with her work, which she loves–maybe too much to get close to anyone else.

Her college friend, Charlie, is similarly driven in her own field, but they’ve faced different challenges as a white scientist in academia and a black screenwriter in Hollywood. Charlie is one of those people who is magnetic and wonderful in person, but elusive as soon as you leave her side. When she dies suddenly, from complications of lupus, Helen doesn’t have a chance to say goodbye.

She seeks out Charlie’s daughter and husband, Terrence, in an attempt to understand more about her friend’s death. Terrence is reserved and hard to read; with his brother, he runs a Los Angeles-based surf shop, and he and Helen seem to have little in common–except that they’re suddenly both single parents, grieving for the same person. Just as they’re starting to trust each other, Helen’s charming and emotionally clueless ex, Neel, drops two bombshells–one personal and one scientific–and Helen’s carefully organized existence starts to fall apart in ways that challenge her most closely held beliefs.

The depth of your use of science knowledge and theory is impressive! What inspired you to write this story of advanced theories about “five-dimensional spacetime” and cutting-edge discoveries about the mind, the brain, gravitational force–and the possibility of ghosts?

Nell Freudenberger

I knew that I wanted to write a book about women and work, and at first, I tried to play it safe; I made Helen a novelist. That didn’t work at all, maybe because I couldn’t get out of my own head enough to find her voice. I thought I might make one of the minor characters an astrophysicist, and so I started reading an introductory college level textbook that a friend recommended. I don’t have a science background, and I was intimidated, in part because I’d always been told that I was a “language person” or that I didn’t have a “math brain.”

One book led to another, though, and I found that I was fascinated by particular topics, especially the gravitational wave detection project known as LIGO. I thought it was incredible that Einstein had theorized these “ripples in the fabric of spacetime,” but never believed human beings would be able to detect them, and that almost exactly 100 years later, scientists were doing just that.

My interest led me to cold e-mail some physicists, who were extremely kind. They spent hours explaining their work to me and showing me the lab that appears in the book. Their passion to communicate what they knew–for no reason other than the pleasure they took in it–was the real spark for Helen’s character, and convinced me that I could learn enough to make Helen believable as a physicist.

As for ghosts, I don’t believe in them–most of the time. None of the physicists I met told me that they did either, but they did often subscribe to counter-intuitive theories about space, physical forces, or the origins of the universe. Like Einstein’s theory of General Relativity, their explanations of physical phenomena had to be taken on faith or derived mathematically; they didn’t make sense inside a human being’s three-dimensional experience of the world. Talking to physicists about these wild ideas stretched my own capacity for belief.

Please tell me about the poem read at Charlie’s funeral–and explain how that became the title of the book.

The untitled poem by Auden that begins “This lunar beauty…” made a deep impression on me when I was an undergradate. Some people in our seminar thought the poem was about death; our professor insisted it was about pregnancy–his wife was about to have a baby; others argued that it was just a poem about the moon. To me, that indeterminacy was what made the poem so beautiful, and spoke to our different conceptions of an afterlife.

Those metrically regular and perfectly rhymed lines–“Where ghost has haunted/Lost and wanted”–gave me a natural title for the book. They seemed to suggest an interim pace that was more mathematical than purgatorial, maybe even a digital space somewhere between life and death.

Tell me about the meaning of “unseen communication”–a phrase that is referenced several times in Lost and Wanted. Does it hold more than one meaning among the characters and their discoveries about life, love, grief, acceptance, and unknown mysteries of the universe?

Science is never finished, and I love the physicist John Wheeler’s idea that each generation suggests a paradox for the next to solve. That’s one kind of “unfinished communication” that appears in the book; another is the mistaken belief that we’ll always have time to say the things we want to say to the people we love.

When a relationship ends–in death or another kind of rupture–we sometimes panic or become depressed about what we wish we’d said while there was still time. Technology now complicates this equation, because we all leave digital records behind, rarely as neatly as we’d like. Sometimes the presence of this stray information make it even more difficult to believe that the loved one is really gone.

For the children in the book, whose experience of time is more abstract than that of their counterparts, there’s a very real sense that it may still be possible to communicate with the people they’ve lost, if only they can find the right medium.

What are we to make of Charlie’s apparent attempts to communicate with her loved ones even after her death, as is demonstrated in the final pages of the book?

I’ll let you make what you will of that!

Nell Freudenberger will be at Lemuria on Friday, April 12, at 5:00 p.m. to sign and discuss Lost and Wanted.

Author Q & A with Tom Clavin

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (March 24)

Among those worthy of celebrity status in mid-19th century America were rugged gunslingers whose reputations were often built on myths and legends borne of truth and tragedy–and one who reached the heights of notoriety was Wild Bill Hickock.

New York Times bestselling author Tom Clavin adds to his collection of historical nonfiction with Wild Bill: The True Story of the American Frontier’s First Gunfighter, examining in detail the life and rowdy times of this iconic American figure.

Notoriety gained from the press made Hickock a nationally known figure, and thus, placed a target on his back for hotshots who wanted to make a name for themselves as the man who would take him down.

A quick-draw artist who was known for his accuracy and courage when it came to gunfights, Hickock became a lawman at 20, and wen ton to hold the titles of Army scout, federal marshal, and Union spy. It would be a bullet that would end his life at age 39.

Clavin has served as a newspaper and web editor, magazine writer, TV/radio commentator and reporter for the New York Times. Among his career credits are awards from the Society of Professional Journalists, the Marine Corps Heritage Foundation, an dthe National Newspaper Association. His book include Dodge CityThe Heart of Everything That Is, and Valley Forge. Clavin lives in Sag Harbor, New York.

“Wild Bill” Hickock, hom you describe as the “first post-Civil War celebrity of the West,” was well-known as America’s first gunfighter during the 1800s–but his real name wasn’t even Bill. Tell us how James Butler Hickock became popularly known as “Bill”–and how he earned the legendary title of “Wild.”

Tom Clavin

Two separate events resulted in “Wild Bill.” The first and less dramatic is he had a brother who called himself Bill–his real name was Lorenzo–and probably as a joke when traveling together on a steamship on the Missouri River they called each other Bill. Lorenzo disembarked, “Jim” Hickock pushed on, and passengers called him Bill, and he got comfortable about this.

The “Wild” part happened after he entered a saloon fight on the side of a bartender outnumbered 6-to-1, and onlookers thought that was a wildly gutsy thing to do. From 1861 on, he was Wild Bill Hickock.

Why do say in your Author’s Note that it was a “gullible and impressionable public” that made Wild Bill bigger than all of the legendary frontier figures (like Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett, and Kit Carson) who came before him?

There had always been a hunger back East for tall tales about frontier figures, bu the public became especially ravenous after the Civil War when the American frontier exploded with seemingly limitless potential. Hickock cut a romantic, larger-than-life figure and had a distinctive look and there was a bigger than ever number of readers. All this combined to almost overnight elevating him to superstar status.

It was a Harper’s New Monthly Magazine article in February 1867 that first spread Hickock’s name and legend across the nation, making him nationally famous at age 29. What effect did that article have on Hickock’s life?

The article made him very famous. He could not have been prepared for that, but he sort of took his fame in stride. Hickock did not seek attention, but he didn’t hide from it, either. He was mostly a modest man, but a part of him enjoyed being almost a mythical figure. The downside was much of his fame was as a best-in-the-West gunfighter, making him a target for those younger and possibly faster who wanted to take that title. For the rest of his life, he had to wonder which bullet had his name on it.

Briefly, for what exploits was Wild Bill best known?

Though we don’t have a lot of details, his years as a spy behind Confederate lines were full of exciting exploits. Obviously, being a gunfighter who could shoot faster and more accurately than any man he encountered. And especially when marshal of Abilene in Kansas, Hickock became the prototype of the two-fisted and two-gun frontier lawman. And he was the most well-known of Western plainsmen.

“Wild Bill,” was described as “the handsome, chivalrous, yet cold-eyed killer who roamed the prairie, a kind friend to children and a quick-drawing punisher of evildoers.” He died at age 39, and you liken his life to a Shakespearean tragedy. Explain how that comparison fits.

Hickock fits into that tragic mold dating from Euripides in Ancient Greece and elevated by Shakespeare of the hero who attained heights, but flaws felled him. The West changed fast around Wild Bill Hickock, and he was unable to adapt–and he was a gunfighter going blind.

Like many tragic heroes in literature, he sensed his days were short and life had been unfair but he courageously accepted what was to come. Hickock was an honorable man ultimately dealt a bad hand.

Tom Clavin will be at Lemuria on Wednesday, March 27, at 5:00 to sign copies of and discuss Wild Bill. Lemuria has chosen Wild Bill as its April 2019 selection for its First Editions Club for Nonfiction.

Author Q & A with Peter Heller

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (March 17)

Award-winning, bestselling author Peter Heller reinforces his standing among America’s notable adventure writers with his riveting newest edition, The River.
The hair-raising novel begins with two college friends embarking on the challenge of canoeing the Maskwa River in northern Canada, but what was expected to be a leisure trip turns into a desperate wilderness survival test beyond their imaginations.

An avid outdoorsman and adventure traveler, Heller’s writing is heavily influenced by these personal passions, resulting in three previous novels (bestsellers Celine, The Painter, and The Dog Stars) and four nonfiction works.

He holds an MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop in poetry and fiction and is a regular contributor to Bloomberg Businessweek. He lives in Denver.

The River, and many of your previous books reveal your strong interest in adventure and nature stories. How did you develop your interest in writing about the outdoors?

Peter Heller

Ever since I was the littlest kid, all I wanted to do when I grew up was be a cowboy and drift the High Lonesome for weeks on horseback, or mountaineer, or canoe wild rivers. Maybe tough for a kid growing up in Brooklyn. But I loved reading anything about nature, about wild places, and the sea. And I think I knew that I would write about these places one day, because I began to study botany, ecology, birds. In college I learned to kayak, and that became a way to explore some of the most beautiful country.

I wrote about those expeditions for magazines, and in composing the stories I learned a lot that I used later on in writing fiction–techniques for creating a vivid sense of place and characters that jump off the page; and I learned about cadence and pacing.

I’m still happiest sitting at a fire by some mountain creek, drinking coffee, or stringing a fly rod. So now when I’m writing a novel, I often transport myself to the places I want to be, and they are usually remote, and there is usually a fire and a stream, rain, wind, the cries of birds.

The story in The River revolves around its two main characters, college students Jack and Wynn, opposites in many ways. Could you describe their friendship, and what drew them together?

Jack is a tough ranch kid from Kremmling, Colorado. He’s spent half his life in the saddle, and cooking over a fire and sleeping under the stars are second nature. Wynn is an architect’s son from Vermont. He’s a gentle giant, sweet in every cell, who loves nothing more than making ephemeral art out of stones and water. But they both love books–novels and adventure stories, and poetry–and they are both consummate outdoorsmen. They meet on a freshman orientation backpack trip in New Hampshire’s White Mountains, and they outstrip the group by miles as they talk excitedly about adventure stories and wild country. They discover that they are not at all literary snobs: they both adore Louis L’Amour westerns.

They become fast friends. What makes their friendship work, aside from these shared loves, is that they complement each other: Wynn expects the best from people, Jack is more skeptical and wary. And sometimes one has more appetite for risk, sometimes the other. How those traits play out is crucial to the story in The River.

The ill-fated river trip they plan as a leisurely break turns sinister, as they face not only unbelievable forces of weather and wildfire, but the possibility of being tracked by a would-be murderer. It is during this trip that Wynn discovers a different side of Jack, one that frightens him. What can you tell us about that, without giving the story away?

Jack is a hunter. He grew up facing extremes of weather in the rugged mountains of western Colorado. He spent weeks at a time in on horseback. He also suffered a hard personal tragedy when very young, and it affirmed his reticence, and gave him a certain wariness toward the vanities of humans, especially his own. He is tough to the bone. What Wynn discovers is that Jack is willing to protect their little party at all costs, without hesitation. That he is a warrior. That discovery can be scary.

Your description of the wildfire they battled is described in amazing detail. How were you able to write about this so realistically?

Years ago, when I was living in Paonia, Colorado, I stepped outside and saw a plume of smoke rising out of the junipers on the north side of the valley. I thought it looked very close to my friends’ place. I threw a shovel and a chainsaw in the back of the truck and raced up there.

By the time I got up the rough dirt track to the house there was a wall of dark smoke upwind. A volunteer fire truck was already there. We began cutting trees around the house, shoveling out flames where sparks landed, while Chuck and Jane shuttled valuables to their cars. Suddenly a stiff gust blew through and we heard trees exploding and the wall of smoke became flame. The firemen cut their hoses and yelled “Outta here!” I’ll never forget bumping down the track at the head of a line of vehicles with a cat doing crazy laps in the cab and smoke and sparks and flames crossing the road. We got down to a big irrigation canal where all the police and first responders had gathered, and I looked back. Ninety seconds later the fire swept the whole hillside. It was that close. It made a deep impression on me.

I also called Jim Mason, a fire chief and wildland firefighter in Glenwood Springs, who had battled some of the deadliest wildfires in our history, and he was invaluable in providing details, and in helping me understand some of the science of fire.

What’s your next literary “adventure”?

I just finished a very different novel called The Orchard. It’s about a young woman and her 8- year-old daughter who move to an orchard in southern Vermont. The woman, Hayley, is a towering translator of a famous Tang Dynasty poet named Li Xue. The book is about mothers and daughters, and language, and the power of place and of storytelling. I’m very excited about it.

Lemuria has selected Peter Heller’s The River as its April 2019 selection for its First Editions Club for Fiction.

Author Q & A with Ken Wells

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (March 10).

Louisiana native and journalist Ken Wells fondly recalls what he and his five brothers called “the gumbo life” in rural Bayou Black–a lifestyle lived close to the land and that meant he would not see the inside of a supermarket until he was nearly a teenager.

That phrase–Gumbo Life: Tales from the Roux Bayou–is the title of his culinary memoir which not only details the history of gumbo, but recounts recent stories of its role in today’s culture and kitchens.

Wells left Bayou Black decades ago to travel around the world as a writer for the Wall Street Journal, and he has penned five novels of the Cajun bayous. Today, he lives in Chicago.

In Gumbo Life, you describe gumbo as “more than a delicious dish: it’s an attitude, a way of seeing the world.” What exactly is gumbo, and can you tell us briefly about its diverse history?

In Louisiana, gumbo’s predominant interpretation is a café-au-lait colored soup cooked with a roux–flour browned in butter, oil, or lard–and served over white rice. Typically, ingredients include chicken, sausage, shellfish, okra, and a combination of vegetables known as the Trinity: celery, bell pepper, and onion.

Food historians think gumbo is at least 250 years old, probably older. The first written mention dates to New Orleans in 1764, and shows a dish called “gumbo fillet” or what we now know as file’ gumbo, being cooked by West African slaves. The Africans arrived with word-of-mouth recipes for spicy okra-and-rice stews that are the likely template for the first gumbos. In fact, the Bantu dialect word for okra is “gombeau”–probably how gumbo got its name.

An 1804 account by a French journalist has gumbo being served at a party in the Cajun bayous of southeast Louisiana. That reference fueled the myth of gumbo as a Cajun invention. But the Canjuns have played a critical role in gumbo’s evolution, specifically the roux. The most compelling theory is that the Cajuns, using animal fats that were ubiquitous in colonial cooking–bear lard, in particular–deployed the roux with such skill and gusto that today it is rare to find gumbos cooked without a roux.

You state that when you and your five brothers were “living the gumbo life” in Louisiana in the late 1950s, gumbo was pretty much “a Cajun and Creole secret, a peasant dish.” Tell us about gumbo’s rise in popularity around the world.

When I left the bayous for graduate school in Missouri in 1975, nobody there had a clue what gumbo was. Two things–the breakout of Cajun/Zydeco music to a national and world stage and the post-’70s boom in Louisiana tourism–began to change that. The music fueled an interest in the culture that produced it and, hence, the food that nourished it. Gumbo is…the only truly indigenous regional cuisine in all of America; not just a dish but a style and a way of cooking.

Ken Wells

Gumbo has traveled in part because of what I call the Cajun Obligation. My momma not only taught me to cook gumbo, but taught me that if you cook gumbo, you are required to share the love.

As a journalist, I’ve traveled over much of the world. I’ve cooked gumbo for friends in London; Sydney, Australia; and Cape Town, South Africa. The reviews are always the same: “How can anything be this good? Can you show me how to cook it?” I came to realize I was only the vessel stirring the roux. It’s what I call the Gumbo Effect: the dish itself. Gumbo, if you just stick to the plan with love and attention, transforms itself into food magic.

Gumbo Life is a deeply personal family story about growing up in a rural Louisiana setting where food and family were paramount. Living in points around the world since then (and Chicago now), and looking back, is it almost hard to believe how different life was for you then, compared to now?

I feel blessed. When we moved to our little farm on the banks of Bayou Black in 1957, I felt the place was happily stranded in the previous century. My dad worked for a large sugarcane-farming operation that still kept a mule lot–not entirely trusting all the plowing to tractors. My brothers and I learned to swim in the bayou. We got our water from a cypress cistern. The sugar company owned thousands of acres of marshland, fields, and woodlands that we were free to roam, hunt, trap, and fish. My brothers and I were in the 4-H Club and raised chickens and pigs that we entered in the annual 4-H Club fair–and harvested for the pot.

Food was central. My mom cooked Cajun–not just gumbo but dishes such as sauce piquant and court-bouillon with ingredients like snapping turtle and redfish that we harvested ourselves. We ate well! We grew a huge garden. I don’t think I set foot in a supermarket until I was 12 or 13 years old. That’s because there weren’t any near-by.

You book is also a history of one of Louisiana’s greatest cultural and culinary offerings to the world, along with glimpses of current gumbo tales that emphasize its adaptability–not to mention that you’ve included a glossary of regional and culinary terms, a map of the Gumbo Belt and 10 recipes! What did it mean to you personally to write this “culinary memoir”?

I obviously love my gumbo and I felt a deep exploration of its roots and iterations was a good way to tell the wider story of our singular, food-centric culture.  I say “our” even though I have not lived in the Gumbo Belt since 1975, my journalism career having compelled me to living in big cities far away. I think that living away has helped me see my roots in a way that I might not have seen them had I stayed.

I have two grown daughters who, now in their 30s, love Dad’s gumbo as much as I loved my mother’s. But their childhoods could not have been more different than mine. We moved among cosmopolitan cities, lived abroad, traveled widely. They will never lead the gumbo life as I lived it and so in a way my  book was written for them–to remind them of their connections to a place where our roots run so deep.

Ken Wells will be at Lemuria on Wednesday, March 13, at 5:00 to sign copies of and discuss Gumbo Life. Lemuria has chosen Gumbo Life as its March 2019 selection for its First Editions Club for Nonfiction.

Author Q & A with Greg Iles

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (March 3). Click here to read this article on the Clarion-Ledger’s website.

In his first novel since the acclaimed Natchez Burning trilogy, Mississippian Greg Iles offers readers a crime thriller with a fresh setting, new characters and a whole new set of troubles–topped off with a bundle of family secrets that lead to another shocking Iles ending.

Cemetery Road introduces Marshall McEwan–a successful Washington, D.C. journalist returning to his hometown of fictional Bienville, Mississippi, to run the family’s newspaper in the wake of his father’s illness. In a story of love, betrayal, corruption, and, of course, murder, the bonds of family and romantic interests are tested beyond a breaking point–all keeping McEwan a very busy man.

The author of 15 New York Times bestsellers, Iles has seen his novels made into films and published in more than 35 countries. He is a longtime member of the “lit-rock” group The Rock Bottom Remainders, and lives in Natchez with his wife and has three children.

What was it like switching gears and sitting down to write your first novel since the Penn Cage trilogy?

Greg Iles

I really needed a break from the travails of the Cage family, and from the worst years of the civil rights struggle. My readers probably do, too. The Natchez Burning trilogy took me the better part of 10 years to write, and I nearly died (in a serious car accident) in 2011 while trying to finish the first volume.

Cemetery Road is just as intense as the trilogy in some ways, but it focuses less on race, and more on the secrets hidden in marriages and extended families. The secret at the heart of this book is pretty shocking, I think, but I don’t want to say more than that.

The plot of Cemetery Road is filled with danger, crime and surprises–not to mention many regrettable relationships–in the fictitious river town of Bienville, with main character Marshall McEwen in the thick of it. How would you describe his personality (given his past tragedies and his relationship with his father), and the tumultuous events he faces on a daily basis?

As for Marshall McEwan, I think a lot of people can relate to him. He left the small town he grew up in, worked hard for success and fame, yet now he must return home to care for a dying father he’s barely spoken to in 30 years.

That’s the chief difference between Marshall and Penn Cage (in the Natchez Burning trilogy). Penn and Tom Cage loved and respected each other all their lives, but Marshall and his father were driven apart by a family tragedy when Marshall was only 14. Marshall’s father blames him for that tragedy–unfairly. I think.

Marshall returns to Mississippi more to help his mother than to care for his father, but I think we want father and son to find a way to reconcile before the end, because Marshall got a lot of his strength and stubbornness from his dad. And he needs every bit of it to handle the SOBs he faces in Cemetery Road.

Are there any threads of truth (from Mississippi or elsewhere) that were the basis for the goings-on of the Bienville group known as the Poker Club in Cemetery Road?

The Bienville Poker Club absolutely grew out of stories I heard as a boy growing up in Natchez, and from talking to Mississippians from many walks of life. The people who run small Southern towns are rarely those in the official power structure. Always been that way, and probably always will be.

As Robert Penn Warren knew, corruption is deeply ingrained in our lives, even in the human spirit. And in all politics, sadly… money talks louder than anything else.

Is it possible that we will hear from Marshall McEwan again? Perhaps a sequel or a brand new direction for McEwan. Or, can you tell us of any other ideas you may be working on for your next book?

You may well hear from Marshall again. I’ve been working behind the scenes in Mississippi politics for about three years, and that’s given me some great ideas. I also have a very twisty noir story that’s perfect for Marshall and for Nadine Sullivan, another new character in Cemetery Road.

Another ambitious book tour has claimed your schedule for the month of March–with 27 stops in 19 days!–and once again with the kickoff in Mississippi cities. Tell me about the tour.

I’m always conflicted about my book tours. I like staying home on my country place. Racing to two or three cities a day for a month will wear you out quick. But it’s the only time I get out among my readers, and I always have some wonderful experiences out there. Some people travel a long way to get to my book signings, and I try to give them a great talk, as well as visit with them a bit.

Greg Iles will be at Lemuria on Tuesday, March 5, at 3:30 p.m. to sign copies of Cemetery Road. The reading will begin at 5:30 p.m. Lemuria has selected Cemetery Road as its March 2019 selection for its First Editions Club for Fiction.

Author Q & A with Adam Makos

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (February 24). Click here to read this article on the Clarion-Ledger’s website.

It was Adam Makos’ grandfathers’ service in World War II that inspired a career for their grandson, leading to Makos’ deep interest in the military and the American heroes whose stories he feels is his duty to tell.

The author’s newest book, Spearhead: An American Gunner, His Enemy, and a Collision of Lives in World War II, chronicles not only the surreal story of one young tank gunner’s epic battle in Germany, but that soldier’s deliverance from its trauma that would come some 70 years later.

Having earned a spot in what has been called “the top ranks of military writers,” Makos’ previous works include New York Times bestseller A Higher Call and the widely acclaimed Devotion.

Today he lives in Denver.

Your books have highlighted tales of historical military heroes whose stories would have otherwise gone unheard by the American public. Why has this pursuit been a such a passion for you personally?

I love searching for untold stories because it gives my readers a chance to see a new side of World War II, or to meet a new hero, like watching a movie for the first time.

To me, it’s also about justice. To think that some young man risked his life for us, all those years ago, or maybe he made the ultimate sacrifice and bled out on some European battlefield, as one of the heroes of Spearhead actually did, I don’t think it’s right for us to ever forget their names.

How did you find out about Clarence Smoyer, a U.S. Army corporal and tank gunner from Pennsylvania coal country who served in World War II?

Adam Makos

I truly feel I’m “led” to some of these stories, in the spookiest ways. A college buddy told me about Clarence, a quiet hero from his hometown. So one day in 2012, I went up to Clarence’s brick row house and knocked on the door. He welcomed me inside, pulled up a chair at the kitchen table and we talked for a bit before he stunned me with a revelation when he asked, “Would you like to see a letter from the German I fought against?” He was in touch with his former enemy.

Smoyer’s defining moment of the war was a dramatic showdown in Cologne, Germany, between the newfangled American M-26 Pershing “Super Tank” he commanded and the fiercely infamous German Panther tank–a 1945 duel that was, almost unbelievably, captured on film. What was it about his story that compelled you to meticulously research and document it in Spearhead?

Before I met him, I knew about Clarence’s remarkable, Wild West-style tank duel in the street of Cologne. It’s considered one of the most famous actions of World War II, because it was caught on film. Now, anyone can watch it with the click of a mouse button.

But even putting the reader into the middle of that duel, two tanks quick-drawing on each other, 75 yards apart, wasn’t enough to fill a book. It was the deeper, human story that drew me to write Spearhead. Our World War II tank crewmen faced a terrible reality every time they started their engines.

The first tank always gets hit.

That was the nature of tank combat on the Western Front in early 1945. The Germans were on the defense; they could dig in and wait for our guys to come over the hill or around the bend. They could wait to fire until the first American tank rolled into their crosshairs.

So to go first took guts, because that guy was probably going to get hit. When Clarence was assigned the Pershing, a deadly new role fell to him: now, his tank would go first, in every battle.

So I asked myself: Why would any man saddle up for that? Why did Clarence? And the answer was quite profound. He did it to keep his buddies safe. He told himself: We have the biggest gun, we belong out front.

You recount Smoyer’s disturbing decades-long bout with PTSD, and how he finally decided to face it. Explain how this unlikely outcome (of meeting his former enemy in person in their later years) was such a defining chapter in his life.

Like many veterans, Clarence came home and buttoned-up his memories of the war and never aired out the troubling things he’d seen.

So, in his later years, when the memories resurfaced, there was no one left to talk with–all of the men from his crew had passed. There was just one man he could turn to, who had seen the same horrors in Cologne, but from the other end of the street. This man had been his enemy (in the tank duel), Gustav Schaefer.

When Clarence returned to Cologne in 2013 and sat down to talk with Gustav, his former enemy proved to be his saving grace. Talking. It’s what helped him put his ghosts to rest. And he emerged from the ordeal with a new friend. He and Gustav called each other war buddies. They used to exchange Christmas cards and letters. They even Skyped on the computer, talking face to face.

It’s a one in a million chance that they’d have found each other, 70 years after they fought. Then to have actually met, with Clarence flying across the ocean and Gustav driving from northern Germany. And then for them to become inseparable friends? You couldn’t script a better ending to a war story.

Any plans for your next book?

I do have a new World War II book in the works, likely the last I’ll write while veterans are alive to share their stories. For now, however, I’m just enjoying my time celebrating the heroes of Spearhead.

Clarence is 95. Buck Marsh, the GI who used to ride into battle on Clarence’s tank, he’s 95, and he’s coming with me to Jackson, to our signing at Lemuria Books on March 1. For now, I just want to throw a big party for these heroes, to let people meet them and shake their hands, and realize how lucky we are to still have them, 75 years later.

Adam Makos (and Buck Marsh) will be at Lemuria on Friday, March 1, at 5:00 to sign copies of and discuss Spearhead. Lemuria has chosen Spearhead as its February 2019 selection for its First Editions Club for Nonfiction.

Author Q & A with Valeria Luiselli

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger (February 10). Click here to read this interview on the Clarion-Ledger’s website

Valeria Luiselli’s newest novel, Lost Children Archive, is a penetrating work that tells one family’s complicated story as they drive cross-country from New York to Arizona, even as she deftly draws contemporary political and personal struggles together in the mix.

Born in Mexico, Luiselli grew up in South Korea, South Africa, and India, and has enjoyed an award-winning career as a writer of both fiction and nonfiction works.

She has authored the novels Faces in the Crowd, The Story of My Teeth, and Tell Me How It Ends: An Essay in Forty Questions, and the essay collection “Sidewalks.” She has captured two Los Angeles Time Book Prizes, and an American Book Award; and is a two-time nominee for the National Book Critics Circle Award.

Luiselli’s work has appeared in the New York Times, Granta, McSweeneys, and other publications. She now lives in New York City.

Your new novel, Lost Children Archive, chronicles a family’s road trip from New York City to Arizona that served two purposes. The first was to provide research opportunities for both parents’ projects as audio documentarians, with his focusing on the last leaders of the American Apache Indians, and hers on the child refugee crises from the court of immigration in New York. The journey was also a chance to share with their children some lessons of American history about the government’s treatment of Native Americans, as well as opportunities to personally experience what migrant children at the U.S. southern border were encountering. How did you develop the idea of this detailed and intense storyline?

Valeria Luiselli

When I begin a book, I have no idea of what I am going to do. I never think in terms of plot, or even overarching topics. All I have is a question, or perhaps a set of questions, and some intuitions about how to possibly explore them. One of the fundamental questions that drove me to write this novel had to do with the way that we tell stories to children, and in particular, the way we talk about history in relation to the present. And, in turn, the way that their internalization of those stories and versions of history may or may not make the world a less confusing and less terrifying place.

This novel, if anything, is about the process of composing stories, of threading voices and ideas together in an attempt to better understand the world around us. I don’t see this as a novel about the refugee crisis, or about Apaches—but a novel about childhood, and the place of storytelling in the often daunting and sometimes solitary experience of being a child.

An important subplot in this narrative is the crisis within the family itself: the husband and wife, who are the parents of two children—all of whose names are never given—are in an unhappy marriage whose future is tenuous, at best. How does this affect the family dynamic during and after this trip, especially for the children?

I guess the crisis within the family, as they travel across the country inside their car, and the socio-political crisis unfolding around them, are in constant echo of each other. The novel is very much about the blurring of boundaries between our private sphere and the political/public realm.

We live in times where we can no longer draw a sharp division between the public and the private, between political life and family life. The two intersect and collide constantly, and we all have to figure out how to keep our feet on the ground and our heads clear.

Tell me about the decision of the main narrator (the mom) to change her documentary project from telling the story of “the crisis at the border” to that of the “lost,” or “refugee” children.

More than a change, it’s a development prompted by her observations. She begins to pull on that thread when she starts spending time in the New York immigration court. Then, as the family plans to drive southwest, and she begins to learn about the many layers of the crisis, she shifts her attention to the detention centers along the border. Finally, as she gets closer to the border, she starts thinking about all the children who cannot actually tell their story, who cannot actually be seen and cannot actually be heard—because they are either locked away indefinitely, or have gotten lost, or have lost their lives.

What the novel documents in this regard are simply the many layers of a crisis, and we travel through them, as readers, while the narrator herself is learning how to move across them.

During the course of the story, the couple’s two young children become lost on a side trip that they set out on alone. They wind up experiencing circumstances similar to those of refugee children at the southern border of the United States. How did this experience ultimately influence the future of this family?

When I was writing Lost Children Archive, I often found myself thinking about reenactment, both as a weird cultural practice—people reenacting historical moments—and as a more psychological, personal, internalized event, through which empathy for long-gone peoples and communities can perhaps be achieved.

In the novel, the children constantly reenact historical events, but they mix them all up with the present. And in their confusion of past and present—especially the instances of brutal violence against Native Americans and the current treatment of undocumented people—they are able to understand political violence more clearly, and feel it in their own skin, so to speak.

Do you have other writing projects in the works at this time?

I’m doing research on mass incarceration and immigration detention. But I’m still in very early stages of the process, just taking notes, reading a lot, thinking. I have no idea what will come of it. And I am not in a hurry.

Valeria Luiselli will be at the Eudora Welty House on Pinehurst Street on Thursday, February 14, at 5:00 p.m. to sign and read from Lost Children Archive. Lemuria has selected Lost Children Archive as one of our February 2019 selections for our First Editions Club for Fiction.

Page 5 of 14

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén