Tag: Jana Hoops (Page 8 of 13)

Author Q & A with Stephen Markley

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (September 16)

Described as both a murder mystery and a social critique, Stephen Markley’s Ohio speaks with revelatory discernment about the direction a new, post 9/11 generation of Americans faces.

Set in the fictional small town of New Canaan, Ohio, Markley’s moving debut novel conveys the angst of a region in decline–thanks to the realities of an economic recession, the tragedy of opioids, and the calamities of war in Afghanistan and Iraq–as witnessed by four former high school classmates. When the friends, all in their 20s, gather in their hometown one fateful summer night in 2013, the evening ends in a shocking culmination that no one expected.

Each of Markley’s main characters brings along a mission for this evening, as they collectively struggle with private secrets and regrets–including alcoholism, drug abuse, lost ambitions, relationships gone astray, and personal doubts.

Through Ohio, Markley addresses forgotten pockets of the nation’s “rust belt” that inherited the disillusionment of racial hostility, environmental uneasiness, foreclosures, and political standoff.

Stephen Markley

A graduate of the Iowa Writer’s Workshop, Markley is a screenwriter, journalist, and the author of two previous books: Publish This Book: The Unbelievable True Story of How I Wrote, Sold, and Published This Very Book  and Tales of Iceland, a humorous “memoir and travelogue of an American experience in Iceland.” He lives in Los Angeles.

Ohio is a complicated and gripping tale. It’s an ambitious novel that took you five years to write. How did you do this?

Ha. Sometimes I’m not even sure. I think I always had this raucous, ambitious novel in mind, and I had the components  of something really interesting, but it was a long process of figuring out how those components worked together. I certainly owe a great debt of gratitude to my agent, Susan Golomb, and my editor, Cary Goldstein, as well as a number of other readers who gave me the feedback that helped me craft the final version.

You were a teenager yourself when the events of 9/11 shocked America. How did it affect you and your own friends personally?

That’s hard to say because it didn’t really in the moment. We lived far away from New York City and the Pentagon, and while what happened was certainly spectacular in terms of the images and the shock, the most important legacy of 9/11 for my generation was the widespread failure of our political institutions in the aftermath.

Decisions were made and policies were put into place that will be with all of us for the rest of our lives, and here I’m not just talking about two disastrous wars that have grown into a permanent global counter-insurgency operation, but the domestic consequences of surveillance, xenophobia, and a national security-industrial complex that bends policy to its whims and which as citizens have almost zero democratic control over.

Ohio, your first novel, came about after your studies at the Iowa Writer’s Workshop. Tell me how your Iowa studies paid off in your efforts to become a novelist ,which you have described as your “only ambition.”

I arrived at Iowa after floundering for several years as an utterly unsuccessful freelance writer, so just the relief of  paycheck, health insurance, and the basic stability of housing was enough to give me this burst of creative energy. On top of that, the teachers I worked with and my peers were just so consistently brilliant, hilarious, interesting, and inspiring that even if I’d produced nothing in those years, I would still view them as some of the best of my life.

Have you been surprised by the acclaim the book has garned, especially since this is your first novel? It has even been described as “generation defining.”

I know this is annoying to say, but I’m trying to ignore all of that as best I can and just enjoy Simon & Schuster footing the bill to send me around the country on a book tour, which I’m using as an excuse to see almost everyone I’ve ever loved or cared about.

As for the generation thing, I tend to think my generation of writers will be defined by the huge range of diversity in voices and storytelling styles that comes from the rather recent institutional realization that human beings other than straight white guys also have fascinating stories to tell.

Your writing style is unique, and it reads like you are talking to exactly one person (the reader) face-to-face. Tell me about how the signature form has developed.

Oh, that’s as much a mystery to me as anyone. I think all writers are just amalgamations of every influence they’ve ever claimed and, even more so, all the ones they can’t remember. You have to keep in mind, even though this is my debut novel, I’ve been working at this writing thing since I was probably 5 years old. At age 34, I feel like it took a lifetime to get this thing out there.

Since the town of New Canaan is patterned at least loosely from  your own hometown, did you experience  the same thoughts and feelings as your characters? Was there the same sense of despair? Are things there better now?

That’s complicated because New Canaan is not really my hometown, which has its own stories and politics and oddities and troubles and brave, wonderful people.

But it was the sensation of growing up there that I wanted to get across. Tim O’Brien talked a lot about this in (his book) The Things They Carried–sometimes to get at the truth, you have to make up a story.

With this powerful debut novel under your belt, do you think you may take a more upbeat approach on your next book–or do you have another book planned yet?

I’m always working on two or three things at once, but I’m feeling a little precious about those projects right now. I’m probably not quite ready to say them out loud in case they vanish.

Author Q & A with Drew Williams

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (September 9)

Although The Stars Now Unclaimed is his debut novel, Birmingham’s Drew Williams makes a distinction about his new sci-fi book: “It’s my first novel to be published,” he said. “It’s nowhere near my first novel to be written.”

He explains why this difference matters, if only to himself.

“I remember hearing in a TED Talk a while back–and I’m not going to go look for it, so apologies to the speaker if I get this wrong–that it takes 10,000 hours of practice at anything before you can become truly ‘proficient’ at it; I’ve been chipping away at my 10,000 hours since I was a teenager, and believe me: readers can debate now whether I’ve reached ‘proficiency’ with The Stars Not Unclaimed,’ but the stuff I wrote back then was nowhere near it!”

Fortunately for Williams, The Stars Now Unclaimed is claiming a lot of attention among sci-fi and other readers–which works out well, as Stars is only the beginning of the series he has already planned for his newly minted characters.

Described as “a massive, galaxy-spanning tale of war, betrayal, friendship, and the kind commitment people make to a better future even at the cost of their own lives,” this future world is packed with strong characters, intense battles, and just enough trepidation to capture the attention of readers of all ages who love thrillers in any form.

The series is, as they say, another story–or actually, quite a few more stories. Boldly titled The Universe After, the collection will introduce its second volume A Chain Across the Dawn in May.

Tell me about yourself. The bio on the book flap is pretty bare bones–you got a job at a bookseller because you applied on a day when someone had just quit! You don’t like Moby-Dick. We want more! Tell us about Drew Williams.

Let’s see. I grew up right here in Birmingham–Birmingham, where we stare across the border at Atlanta and think “that could have been us, you know, if we’d really wanted it to be”–so I’ve been a native of the Deep South all my life; there’s just something about it, you know? Sure, the heat might be bad, and the humidity might be worse, and sure, in Birmingham specifically you have to reckon with a pretty terrible cultural legacy of institutional racism and basically being the villain in every story Yankees tell about the South, but there’s something about the people down here–just nicer, I think. More interested in what’s going on around them than wherever they think they’re supposed to be next.

Drew Williams

As far as my education goes, I left that part of the book flap because I didn’t want some kid to try and emulate it. The reason I needed that bookseller job was I’d dropped out of high school a few months before, so my education pretty much was the bookstore! Everything I know–and I don’t just mean about being a writer–I learned from books of history or psychology or from well-researched novels. It means I can hold forth exhaustively on a weirdly broad range of subjects–but there are also some really basic things that I can completely blank on.

I assume you have always been a science fiction fan. What sparked your interest in the genre? Who is your favorite sci-fi writer?

I literally do not remember seeing Star Wars for the first time; I do not remember–spoiler alert for, you know, a nearly 40-year-old film–ever watching The Empire Strikes Back and not knowing Darth Vader was Luke’s father.

The same goes for novels: I come from a family of, well, nerds, so both my father and mother read to my brother and me extensively when we were children, and they didn’t stop at kids’ books. One of my very first memories is my mother reading To Kill a Mockingbird to me–omitting some of the more graphic details of the nature of the central crime, most likely–whereas my father was more prone to just read to us whatever he had lying around at the time, whether that was Clive Cussler, Dave Duncan–look him up kids; a great many of his earlier works are out of print, but as far as I’m concerned he’s one of the preeminent fantasy authors of our time–or Arthur C. Clarke. Dune was the first “big deal” sci-fi novel I read myself, and I followed it up with a hopscotch path though Heinlein, David Feintuch–another unjustly overlooked sci-fi great–and even Kurt Vonnegut.

What prompted you to make the main character female? Did you find that to be more of a challenge?

That’s one of those things, honestly, that just happened: I sat down to write this novel, and there she was–I never had a single doubt in my mind that she was supposed to be anything other than female. I do think there’s something more interesting about the central relationship in the novel being more about a sort of pseudo-maternal connection than the parental one that might have arisen if I had made the lead male, that there’s a certain assumed vulnerability, a sense of not just protection but fostering of emotional growth that might not have been there otherwise, but honestly, that’s just me back-filling: I can’t claim to have don that on purpose.

As far as writing a female lead being a challenge goes: I think a great deal of how a person writes–consciously or otherwise–is defined by what we consume, in terms of narrative, whether that’s books, films, video games, whatever. And again, going back to my parents: I was never told to make a distinction as a child between “boy books” and “girl books”–I read both The Hardy Boys and Sweet Valley High. They were all just books, they were all just stories.

That’s a habit I’ve carried into adulthood–whether a book has a male lead or a female lead makes no difference whatsoever in my interest in the novel–and I think having read a great deal of literature with female leads makes it easier to write something with one.

Explain more about the “pulse” in The Stars Now Unclaimed, what it actually was, and how it chose which planets to send back in time.

Getting into some of those answers would be getting into spoiler territory for later books, but I’ll do my best!

Basically, the pulse in an unexplained cosmic event that swept through the universe about 100 years before the novel is set. With no apparent sense of purpose, it set about affecting almost every planet in the galaxy, affecting each on a slightly different scale.

So you might have one world where no technology more complex than steam-power can operate–a world stuck, permanently, in the Industrial Revolution–and another still fully capable of making spaceships and advanced artificial intelligence and jet-packs.

The reasons for that concept, honestly, were structural rather than metaphorical: I wanted a very broad canvas to play with, one where I could have wild spaceship battles in one scene, and forgotten, almost post-apocalyptic city-scapes to wander through in the next.

Your book includes a lot of battle scenes. Did you, like many others, find yourself intrigued with the action of the Star Wars space battles?

Star Wars is absolutely–no question, No. 1 with a bullet, full stop–the single most influential work of art in my life. I learned so much from those films, not just about narrative and storytelling, but in terms of who I am, and I think the appeal of Star Wars can be boiled down into a single concept that comes from Star Wars: even when things are wildly different, people are just people.

Those films have always succeeded in marrying eye-popping-ly beautiful imagery, alien and exotic and imaginative, with deep-seated human desires and conflicts.

I think the action sequences do the same thing. Yes, they might involve laser swords or giant walking tanks or an ancient monster that’s nothing more than a mouth buried in the sand, but they’re still about a man, trying to rescue a friend; about soldiers, trying to do their best to fight a desperate rear-guard action so their fight can go on; about a son, trying to find the man his father once was inside of the monster he’s become.

I very much tried to do the same thing in The Stars Now Unclaimed, to root the action, no matter how outlandish or insane, in who the character were.

Star Wars and other “space operas” seem to illustrate how good eventually overcomes evil. Is there a deeper meaning, or message, to your novel?

Two answers come to mind with that: the first is the theme of The Stars Now Unclaimed itself, which I think can be summarized with the concept that “even grief can be turned into good ends.” The second–which is slightly more germane to your question–is how I would summarize the theme of the entire series, which is “so long as parents try not to pass their won sins on to their children, the world can become a better place.” So long as we continually struggled to raise our children into people better than us–and to give them a world better than that which we inherited–there is no doubt in my mind that good will overcome evil, because evil is a thing that thrives where empathy has failed. Even if we don’t always succeed in that goal, it’s the trying that matters, I think.

Now that you are a published author, you’ll always be asked about what project you have coming out next. Can you tell us?

Book two, of course! I don’t think I can tell you much more than that, or my editor will skin my alive, but I will say characters are meant to grow, and change, otherwise there’s on point in writing a sequel.

Drew Williams will be at Lemuria today on Monday, September 10, at 5:00 to sign and read from The Stars Now Unclaimed.

Author Q & A with Lisa Patton

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (September 2)

Sorority recruitment (that still translates as “rush” at most Southern universities) can be a pivotal time for freshmen college women, but is probably approached with more reverence, tradition, and passion at Ole Miss than perhaps any other campus–anywhere.

And that’s where bestselling author Lisa Patton, a Memphis native, current Nashville resident and graduate of the University of Alabama, chose to set her newest novel, Rush.

Written with amazing attention to detail and as much humor as heart, Rush takes readers behind the doors of the of the school’s fictional Alpha Delta Beta house, where the newest pledge class fights for civil justice for their house staff despite opposition from the sisterhood’s scheming house corp president. Along the way, a handful of diverse characters slowly reveal their own secrets, fears, and hopes as their lives are linked together.

Lisa Patton

Before her writing career, Patton worked as a manager and show promoter for the historic Orpheum Theatre in Memphis and as part of the promotion teams for radio and TV stations in the Bluff City. She later worked on album and video projects with Grammy Award-winning musician Michael McDonald.

It was a three-year stint as an innkeeper in Vermont that inspired her first novel, Whistlin’ Dixie in a Nor’Easter, which was followed by Yankee Doodle Dixie (both featured on the Southern Independent Booksellers Alliance Bestseller List); and Southern as a Second Language.

The mother of two sons, Patton and her husband now live in Nashville.

Rush–an eye-opening inside story about life in an Ole Miss sorority house–is so full of spot-on details about the young women who go through recruitment, or “rush,” and the houses they call their campus homes, that it’s hard to believe you weren’t a student at Ole Miss yourself. Why did you choose to write about Greek life at the University of Mississippi, and not the school you attended–the University of Alabama?

I went back and forth about which campus was best for the setting. Both universities are historical and breathtakingly gorgeous, but I ultimately chose Ole Miss because the town of Oxford provided a more colorful backdrop to the story. Many Ole Miss graduates hail from Memphis, and as a native Memphian I love including my hometown in my novels.

During my writing process, Eli Manning received the Walter Payton Humanitarian of the Year Award. I’d read that he and his wife, Abby, are well known philanthropists, and I though they would be perfect bit characters for the story. In truth, through, Rush could have been told on any Southern campus. Ole Miss won because it’s a darn good place to be! And quintessentially Southern.

Researching this book must have been fun! How did you find out about so many details of the secrets of sorority life at Ole Miss–like the name of the popular dorm, the schedules for rush week, the size of the sororities, etc.?

Goodness knows I tried. I spoke with several Ole Miss current students and recent graduates. I interviewed Ole Miss alumnae, Ole Miss housemothers, and a former Ole Miss housekeeper. The research was the best apart about writing Rush. I got to know many strong, wonderful women. Through our many phone calls and texts, I came to love and admire each of them and now call them my friends. In the last three years, I’ve spent a great deal of time on the Ole Miss campus. I honestly think of myself as half Rebel!

Your characters are plentiful, and very well developed–and many have secrets they’re trying hard to overcome. How were you able to create so many characters with their own stories to tell, and then weave them into the plot so well?

I was determined to give my characters complexity. So I gave thought to my own life and the lives of other vulnerable women I know, and analyzed what makes us real. We all have flaws, both moral and psychological, whether we want to admit them or not. So, after creating my characters, I talked with each one of them and asked for complete honesty. I took notes, as if I was their therapist, and learned all about their secrets! That might sound crazy, but it’s true.

Weaving them together was the easy part. Making the decision to finish the book was another story all together. When you take a stand for something you believe in with all your heart, resistance throws every fiery dart in its arsenal your way. I almost quite before Rush was born.

There are a lot of heartaches and problems facing the main characters–and keeping up with them is made much easier by how you structured the narration, which changes with each chapter, giving readers multiple first-person accounts of what rush and sorority life are like, filtered through each person’s point of view. Is this a writing technique you’ve used with your other books?

I’ve never written a book with multiple points of view before, but I felt it was a necessity for Rush. I wanted to give my readers an in-depth peek into sorority life, whether they were Greek or not. Cali is my 18-year-old freshman from small-town life–Blue Mountain, Mississippi. Memphis-born Wilda is an Ole Miss alum and mother to Ellie, who is rushing and living in Martin Dormitory. And Miss Pearl is the housekeeper of the fictional Alpha Delta Beta sorority house and second mom/counselor to the sorority sisters. When the story opens, they don’t know one another, but all that changes quickly.

At the center of the story is “Miss Pearl,” who practically runs the sorority house, and has for 25 years, but her chances of being promoted to house director are threatened by the racist attitudes of another character. Why this dominant topic, and why now?

I’m that child of the 60s and 70s. That little Southern girl who was bathed in motherly love by a woman who worked as a long-term housekeeper and cook for my family. Then I left for college and received a similar love from the women who worked in my sorority house. When I went back for a visit 38 years later, I noticed that much was still the same with regard to the house staff.

Some of the workers, men and women, spend decades of their lvies in these positions. It never once crossed my mind to inquire about their pay, their benefits, or their opportunity for promotion. When I discussed it with my sorority sisters, they agreed that it was an unfortunate oversight. We, as sorority women, are strong leaders. We are philanthropic and compassionate. WE strive to make things right. I’m hoping readers will get to know my characters, learn about their lives and understand their worlds better. My prayer is that Rush opens the door to discussion and is ultimately, perhaps, a vehicle for change.

What was your own sorority experience like at the University of Alabama?

It was one of the best times of my life. I made friendships that have lasted for decades and will last until I take my final breath. Whenever I look back on our college days, when we were all together, I get teary. Not only was it fun, maybe too fun at times, but it helped cement the values I’d learned in childhood and carry them with me through adulthood. I learned the importance of philanthropy, service, and leadership, and that’s only the beginning.

You began your career as a music producer and eventually became a full-time writer. Tell me about how that came about–and how you believe your writing has progressed through the years.

Because of my deep love for music, I was always attracted to jobs in the music industry. For many years, I worked for Michael McDonald of Doobie Brothers fame. He was the one who encouraged me to finish my first book and I, fortunately, took his advice. I wrote by the seat of my pants for the first three novels, but for Rush, I made a detailed outline. I also studied books on the craft of writing.

Do you have another writing project in the works now?

I do, thank you for asking! It’s a story about two teachers. Set in Memphis, it’s told in current day and looks back to the 1930s. Few people alive today remember a time when teachers couldn’t be married. It’s actually the first book I wanted to write but knew I needed more experience. I’m finally ready.

Lisa Patton will be at Lemuria on Wednesday, September 5, at 5:00 p.m. to sign and read from Rush.

Author Q & A with Margaret Bradham Thornton

Margaret Bradham Thornton’s sophomore novel takes the age-old choice between clinging to the familiarity of solitude versus daring to reach for love at the risk of a broken heart and examines it at a deeper level in A Theory of Love–a romantic story that is both unique and familiar at its core.

The chance meeting of British journalist Helen Gibbs and French-American financier Christopher Delavaux on a Mexican beach leads to a relationship and a marriage that would become threatened by ambition and time apart–and ultimately, a difficult choice that must be made for

their future together.

Thornton is the author of the novel Charleston and the editor of Notebooks, a 10-year writing project that saw her compiling and editing the extensive collection of the personal journals of Tennessee Williams. For her efforts on this project, which she said “represented an important record, both emotional and creative, of one of America’s most important writers,” she received the Bronze ForeWord Magazine Book of the Year Award in autobiography/memoir and the C. Hugh Holman Prize for the best volume of Southern literary scholarship published in 2006, given by the Society for the Study of Southern Literature.

Margaret Bradham Thornton

A native of Charleston, she is a graduate of Princeton University, where she majored in English. Now a Florida resident, Thornton is no stranger to Mississippi.

“In my early teens, I came to Jackson and played the Southern Tennis Championships,” she said.

“At various times over the past 15 summers, I have been back to Jackson for tournaments with my three sons–one of whom is a published novelist–who play or have played competitive tennis. I have just returned from Dublin where my daughter competed in the much-loved Dublin Horse Show where the Irish combine their love of horses with their love of books. One of the jumps in the Grand Prix Competition was a five-and-a-half-foot wall of books. I am very happy to report that my daughter cleared it!”

A Theory of Love offers a depth beyond the plot of most “love stories.” It was the busyness of life–the travel, the time pressure, the distance–that defined the relationship of main characters Helen and Christopher, and it requires a bit of thought on the reader’s part to imagine oneself in their shoes–his side and her side. What was your inspiration for this unique book?

Broadly speaking, Tennessee Williams and, more specifically, a memoir of a circus performer.

Tennessee Williams wrote about longing, rarely about love. For example, in The Glass Menagerie, Laura waits for gentlemen callers who never come; in A Streetcar Named Desire, Blanche waits on a decaying plantation for a man to rescue her; and in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Maggie tells Brick that if she thought he would never make love to her again, she would go into the kitchen and get the biggest knife and stick it straight through her heart. Having spent 10 years working on Tennessee Williams, I wanted to move past longing into the territory of love.

Five years ago, I came across a 19th century memoir of a circus performer, Ins and Outs of Circus Life or Forty-Two Years Travel of John H. Glenroy, Bareback Rider, through United States, Canada, South America and Cuba. John H. Glenroy was an orphan, who at age 7 joined the circus. When he retired, he dictated his memoir. Far from telling a life of adventure, he gave a flat, unemotional accounting of all the places he had performed along with the names of all the performers in each circus.

Memory had clearly been a companion to him. And it made me curious: if you’d had love withheld from you as a child, who would you be as an adult? What could be expected of you? Despite living two centuries apart, the circus performer became the inspiration for one of my main characters, and I thought a circus would be a good metaphor for the world of finance. I settled on short chapters with changing locations to give a sense of speed and dislocation.

Please explain the “entanglement theory” and how it expresses this love story.

Simply put, in theoretical physics, two particles that have been close can be separated by millions of miles or even light years and still remain connected. What happens to one, instantaneously happens to the other. Entangled particles transcend space. I thought this was an intriguing concept to explore as a metaphor for love. I think it certainly applies to maternal or paternal love. The question I wanted to ask in this novel was does it hold for romantic love.

What was it that attracted Christopher and Helen to each other in the beginning?

Initially, they are both intrigued by each other’s independence. Christopher notices Helen getting out of a taxi, and he is curious to know why she has come alone to Bermeja. He is further intrigued by her sense of purpose and bemused by his inability to “derail” her from her work. Her article on words reveals her interest in other cultures and a certain fearlessness about crossing borders, exploring new terrain, both literally and metaphorically, and this aspect of her certainly appeals to him.

Helen is curious to know more about Christopher who is staying in a remote place by himself–she is, after all, a journalist. Her choice of words shows that she is drawn to illusive concepts that have both intensity and peace and these words could be used to describe aspects of Christopher. Christopher’s ability to embody his favorite word, sprezzatura, to make whatever he does look as if it is without effort or thought–especially when he is flirting with her–appeals to Helen and keeps her off balance at the beginning of their relationship.

I was struck by the fact that Christopher, like Helen, had a favorite word! Do you have a favorite word?

I didn’t until I wrote this book, but I would go with neverness, partly because of how I first learned about it; partly because it is an orphaned word and I have been thinking about orphans; and partly because it is beautiful. My eldest son, a writer, sent me an excerpt from a Paris Review interview with Jorge Luis Borges who described this word, invented by Bishop Wilkins in the 17th century, as “a beautiful word, a word that’s a poem in itself, full of hopelessness, sadness, and despair.” He said he could not understand why “the poets left it lying about and never used it.”

Despite the constant travel to romantic and exotic places, there is a very “everyday” feeling about this book, as we get glimpses of the “ordinary” about Helen and Christopher, despite the pace of their lives. That is somewhat of a luxury among novelists, who may present frequent moments of “drama” to move the plot along . . . . but this story doesn’t feel rushed. Explain how you approached the pace of this book, as it pertains to their relationship.

This book was an explanation of the question, “What does it mean to love someone?”, and for that question, plot did not have a strong place. Novels that helped me understand how to think about structuring this story include Kate Chopin’s The Awakening; Elizabeth Bowen’s The House in Paris; Paul Bowles’ The Sheltering Sky; and James Salter’s Light Years and Solo Faces.

In The Awakening, there is that powerful scene between Edna and Robert when he waits with her one evening. They are both deeply attracted to one another, but neither can act upon their passion, and he waits with her for her husband to return. I thought it was an extraordinary scene–all the more so because so little is said. I knew I wanted to write that kind of scene in my novel at the end when Helen is sitting on a swing in Bermeja.

Your writing style is very fluid, and it makes me wonder how, as a Charleston native, you were influenced by favorite writers. Who did (and do) you admire as writers?

I don’t have favorites, but I do have mileposts.

Growing up in Charleston, books, for me, were passports. Initially I bypassed Southern writers, as I felt I knew a lot about the South and wanted to learn about other parts of the world. I’m happy to say, since then, I’ve reversed direction and put my arms around many of the great Southern writers–Faulkner, Welty, O’Connor, Percy, Williams, Capote, McCarthy, the list goes on.

In college, I read all of Henry James and was struck by the subtlety of his language and structure of his novels. I was also impressed how Virginia Woolf inventively used form to serve her meaning.

Another milepost was when I read Edisto by Padgett Powell when it was first published. The narrator, Simons Manigault, says, “We drove half that night, up Highway 17, watching all the flintzy old motels with names like And-Gene Motel.” I had passed the And-Gene Motel which was halfway between Charleston and the Edisto River hundreds of times, and I remember thinking–you can do that in a novel?

While working on Tennessee Williams, I indirectly discovered the kind of reader I wanted to be. Williams tried to write a play on Vincent van Gogh and one of the books he read was Letters to an Artist: From Vincent van Gogh to Anton Ridder van Rappard 1881-1885. Van Gogh collected the prints published by two London newspapers, and in his letters to van Rappard, he generously praised the work of many of the artists. For example, he wrote, “Pinwell draws two women in black in a dark room in the simplest possible composition in which he has put a serious sentiment that I can only compare to the full song of the nightingale on a spring night.”

In a letter to his brother Theo, van Gogh wrote, “Reading books is like looking at paintings: without doubting, without hesitating, with self-assurance, one must find beautiful that which is beautiful.” That sentiment struck me: as a writer, it felt like the right way to read. So, in that spirit, I try to read as broadly as possible.

Are plans in the works for another novel? If so, can you share something about it with us?

I have been thinking about the idea of beauty and evil. In my research on foundlings for A Theory of Love, I visited the Ospedale degli Innocenti in Florence, and there I learned that an early benefactor had donated a large collection of great paintings to the orphans because he felt that everyone should grow up with beauty. In Book Nine of Paradise Lost, Satan is so struck by the beauty and grace of Eve that he is temporarily disarmed of hatred and envy and revenge.

I am in the early stages of a novel that considers whether or not there is a relationship between evil and beauty, and if so, what is it.

If I’ve learned anything from Tennessee Williams, it is to write about what intrigues or perplexes or moves you–or in his words–to write “a picture of your own heart” and to convince yourself it is easy to do. “Don’t maul, don’t suffer, don’t groan–till the first draft is finished. Then Calvary–but not till then. Doubt–and be lost–until the first draft is finished.”

Author Q & A with Jack E. Davis

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Thursday print edition (August 16)

Pulitzer Prize-winning writer Jack E. Davis, author of The Gulf: The Making of an American Sea, will be among the more than 160 official panelists who will appear at the Mississippi Book Festival Saturday, where he is scheduled for two thought-provoking events.

Davis will sign copies of The Gulf on the Mississippi Capitol lawn at 9:45 a.m., followed by an appearance in the American History panel at 10:45 a.m. in the C-SPAN Room (the Old Supreme Court room) in the Capitol building.

At 2:45 p.m. he will participate in an informal, in-depth discussion with Dr. Melissa Pringle, senior principal scientist and vice president of Allen Engineering and Science in Jackson. Afterward, he will host a Q & A session with Festival goers. The dialogue will be held in State Capitol Room 202, and those interested are asked to arrive 30 minutes early. Details are available at msbookfestival.com.

Davis said he wrote The Gulf because he was interested in restoring what he calls “an American sea,” to the conventional historical narrative of America.

“Look at any general history of the U.S.,” he said, “and you are not likely to find the Gulf in the index, and, at the most, mentioned in passing in the text.”

He wants his readers to realize that the Gulf of Mexico is important to every American, not just “Gulfsiders.”

“All Americans . . . have a historical and ecological connection to the Gulf, and I sought to reclaim the Gulf’s true identity, which I believed had been lost to the BP oil spill and Hurricane Katrina,” he said. “I wanted people to know that the Gulf is more than an oil sump or hurricane alley – that it is an ecologically vibrant place with a rich, interesting, and informative history, meaning it speaks to who we are as a people.”

The author’s fascination with the Gulf began at age 10, when he spent much of his childhood along the Gulf Coast towns of Fort Walton Beach and the Tampa Bay area of Florida. After undergraduate school in Florida, he completed a doctoral program in history at Brandeis University, near Boston.

It was research opportunities for his dissertation at Brandeis that brought him to Jackson in the early ‘90s – a two-year stint that resulted in his first book, Race Against Time: Culture and Separation in Natchez Since 1930, which won the Charles S. Sydnor Prize from the Southern Historical Association for the best book in Southern history in 2001.

Davis said he came to realize “that I needed to write the dissertation in Mississippi to capture the sense of place that I wanted to convey,” adding that he “also met a lot of nice people in Jackson,” some of whom would become close friends.

He later pursued studies in environmental history, realizing it had become his “true passion.” Today he teaches classes in American environmental history at the University of Florida, including courses like The History of Water, The History of Sustainability, and History by Nature.

Among other books by Davis are An Everglades Providence: Marjory Stoneman Douglas and the American Environmental Century, (a biography of Douglas which won the gold medal in nonfiction from the Florida Book Awards); and Only in Mississippi: A Guide for the Adventurous Traveler, which he co-wrote with his friend Lorraine Redd.

In the process, Davis acknowledges, he learned things about the Magnolia State that have stayed with him.

“I’ve said more than once that Mississippians are the nicest people I’ve ever met,” Davis said. “One of things I love about Mississippians is that they are always looking for some type of connection to you. ‘Where are you from and who’s your people?’ they’d often ask, and, more often than not, (they would) find a connection.”

Below, he shares a bit of inside information about the writing of his Pulitzer Prize-winning eighth book.

The Gulf: The Making of an American Sea is an exhaustive history of the Gulf of Mexico and its enormous impact on the human species – throughout the United States and beyond. How did you develop your strong interest in this topic?

Jack E. Davis

Having grown up on the Gulf coast, spending a lot of time in and on it, I developed an intimate relationship with the Gulf. Whenever I was away from it, when I was in the Navy after high school, enrolled in graduate school, living in Birmingham, where I taught at UAB for six years, I missed it. I missed it not being a short drive from me, its smell, and its weather, not to mention its sunsets.

After finishing the Marjory Stoneman Douglas book, which is really a dual biography of a person and a place (the Everglades), I thought about writing another biography of a place. Given my background, the Gulf was a natural fit, and when I explored the topic I learned no one had written a comprehensive history of it. I spent five to six years researching and writing the book.

How has your Pulitzer win impacted your life?

It has taken over my life for now. I didn’t expect that. Didn’t know what to expect. Every day I’m fielding requests to speak or to write something. I have two dozen talks on my calendar for the fall, and 2019 is filling up. Receiving the prize is a great honor. I never in my wildest dreams thought the book could win – even after it received the Kirkus Prize in November and was chosen as a finalist for the National Books Critics Circle Award – or that I would ever be a Pulitzer Prize-winning author.

People ask what it feels like to win a Pulitzer, and I say it feels like someone else’s life. But as I see it, the recognition is not for the author but the work, as Faulkner once said. In this case, it is also recognition for the sea itself. It has been heartening to see positive attention for a change come to this wonderful body of water, attention turned toward the Gulf for something other than a horrific hurricane or oil spill.

Considering the depth of this book, what prompted you to take on such a substantial project?

My last book was 200 pages longer than this one, so writing this book felt something like downsizing. That said, I was initially daunted by how to organize and compose a book about a sea. I knew I wanted the natural environment, not human events, to guide the story, the biography, of the Gulf. I wanted to show nature as an agent in the course of human history, as it indeed is but as it is not regarded by most historians.

To bring nature to the forefront, I organized the chapters around natural characteristics of the Gulf – birds, fish, estuaries, beaches, barrier islands, weather, oil – and integrated nature writing with historical narrative, saving human stories to shape the narrative and illuminate the relationship between civilization and nature.

Your mention Mississippi often in The Gulf, describing many historical events (hurricanes, man-made interventions to its shoreline, seaside development, tourism, etc.), and devoting an entire chapter to the creative drive and devotion to nature that defined the life of artist Walter Anderson. As a Gulf state, how are we doing environmentally and in respect to conservation efforts? How do we compare to other Gulf states?

Mississippi is pretty representative of the other Gulf states. They’ve all engaged with the environment in both wise and unwise ways. All the states have squandered the biological wealth of the great estuarine environment that the Gulf is, mainly by destroying it needlessly, sometimes unwittingly but other times knowingly.

Places like Ocean Springs have been smart about controlling growth, and Jackson County has been thoughtful about protecting its coastal wetlands and the Pascagoula River.

We have to attribute these measures to a lot of people who understand the connection between a healthy natural environment and a healthy human population. They are the heroes in this book, thousands of volunteers and underpaid staff of nonprofit or government organizations, and they are in every Gulf state, and we who enjoy the Gulf and its waters and wildlife owe them much.

In the book, you say it’s common to cry “natural disaster” after weather events “carry away beaches” and destroy property, and you explain the role of “human behavior” in such occurrences. Can nature and local economies in Gulf cities work together successfully?

Absolutely. In the 1970s, most of the bays and bayous and sounds around the Gulf were edging toward ecological collapse from unrelenting pollution, mainly industrial and wastewater discharges, and careless engineering projects. But we’ve since cleaned up those bodies of water, brought them back to be thriving places again.

Tampa Bay was a mess when I was growing up. It is clean and full of life now, hosting bird species I never saw growing up, and the economy around the bay is as robust as ever. Two decades ago downtown Pensacola was a desolate place, but after the water utility removed its broken-down worthless wastewater treatment plant out of the area, downtown quickly came alive. It’s booming, a major draw for locals and tourists. I end the book telling the story of Cedar Key, Fla., and what the people there have done to coexist successfully, to its economic benefit, with the estuarine waters surrounding it.

Your skill as a writer is breathtaking, as you weave history and ecology with the wisdom and reflection of great writers and artists while examining the past and future of the Gulf, an inimitable force of nature. Explain how you’ve developed your unique and powerful style of writing.

I read good writing and pay attention to the composition of paragraphs and the construction of sentences and the selection of descriptive words, and how the author tells a compelling story. I study the writing as I read. In my own writing, I am as interested in getting the words right as I am in getting the history right. I’m a slow writer, a plodder, and I revise, revise, revise.

Writing the opening paragraphs of the book, the last words I wrote for the book, took a month of false starts and endless revisions. As important as anything, I have a writing partner, Cynthia Barnett, author of the superb book Rain: A Natural and Cultural History. She reads in draft everything I write, and I read everything she writes, and we trust and listen to each other.

As I tell my students, identifying your intended audience at the outset is essential, and once you do, imagine them beside you as you write, asking yourself constantly, “Will they understand what I am saying here, will I bore them with the way I am speaking to them, or will my writing keep them engaged?”

Please tell me about your next book you are working on now.

My next book is titled Bird of Paradox: How the Bald Eagle Saved the Soul of America. It is a cultural and natural history of the bald eagle, which lives exclusively in North America, that looks at the historical relationship between people and the bird, from pre-European native cultures to modern American society.

I am interested in how this bird came back from near population collapse in the lower 48 states in the 1960s and in how the American rendezvous with it serves as an allegory of the American relationship with the natural world. That includes how our country originally planted its national identity in the continent’s rarefied natural endowments, then lost its connection to that identity, but now, as the eagle thrives again, it might regain it.

Author Q & A with James McLaughlin

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (August 12)

James McLaughlin admits he’s been surprised with the reception his debut novel Bearskin has received, but the topic of the book–which he said his publishers told him was difficult to categorize–is a very familiar to the Utah outdoorsman.

Growing up in rural Virginia as both an avid reader and a lover of the outdoors, McLaughlin had already decided, as a high school student, that he “was going to be an ‘outdoor writer,’ whatever that meant.” As a child, he spent much of his time hunting, fishing, and exploring the woods around his family’s farm. Reading material naturally ran to Tarzan, Jack London, James Oliver Curwood, and Hemingway’s “hook and bullet stuff”–not to mention books on backpacking, camping, and how to survive in the woods–along with a subscription to Gray’s Sporting Journal.

His circuitous educational route set him on the path to the notable success of Bearskin, a rough and tumble thriller that contrasts the brutality of human capability with the primitive beauty of nature’s untouched wilds. Set in a remote private nature reserve in the heart of Appalachia, the story plays out with a precarious mix that includes a hostile drug ring, a love interest, a regretful past, hallucinatory episodes–and mutilated bears whose body parts have been stolen for drug-dealing profiteers. In brief, it runs the gamut from wild action to deep contemplation and plenty of raw secrets.

It was after McLaughlin earned a law degree from the University of Virginia that he would soon realize he “was not built for the office,” and returned to UV to get his MFA–and then it was back to reality.

“Pretty quickly, I figured out that in order to eat while writing I would have to practice law part-time,” he said.

He said he “eventually specialized in land conservation law, and after my wife and I moved to Utah in the early aughts, I partnered up with a close friend when he started a conservation consulting business back in Virginia. I still work with the business several days a week–telecommuting, traveling east three or four times a year–and my partner has been generous in allowing me time to write.”

That “time” has also resulted in fiction and essays that have appeared in the Missouri Review, the Portland ReviewRiver Teeth, and elsewhere. Today, he lives in a the Wasatch Range east of Salt Lake City, Utah.

McLaughlin will appear at the Mississippi Book Festival August 18 as a participant in the “The Rough South” Southern fiction panel panel at 12:00 p.m. at the Galloway Foundery. He will be at the book signing tent at 1:45 p.m.

Bearskin is your debut novel, and press attention has been substantial, including coverage in the Washington PostUSA TodayEntertainment Weekly, Goodreads, and the New York Times, who named you one of the “Summer’s Four Writers to Watch”–quite a feat for a first novel! Have you been surprised by the media and fan attention for this book?

Completely surprised. I’ve been fortunate, and I know the Ecco and HarperCollins folks have done a lot of work putting the book in the right hands. From the beginning, they’ve said while Bearskin was a hard book to categorize–it doesn’t fit perfectly into any particular pigeonhole–they only needed to get people to read it, and it would do OK.

The novel tracks the story of main character Rice Moore, whose past is filled with enough problems of its own (he’s fleeing ties with a Mexican drug cartel) before he moves to a secluded forest reserve in Virginia hoping to escape terrible secrets–only to find that he feels compelled to go after game poachers killing native bears for drug dealers who want to profit from the sale of their parts. what influenced the idea for this book, including its setting deep in the Appalachian wilderness?

The story idea and the setting are tied up together: they first came to me back in the ’90s when I heard about people finding mutilated bear carcasses in the mountains near where I grew up in western Virginia. I found out the bears were being poached to supply a global black market, and organized crime was reportedly involved. It seemed a natural backdrop for a story. I knew the setting well because I’d grown up wandering around in those mountains.

And Rice Moore’s background…he was brand new to me when I decided to rewrite the book after setting it aside for 10 years. My first image of Rice was as a tough, capable person who is unaccountably spooked by the shadow of a vulture. Why is he so jumpy? His history of smuggling for a cartel grew out of my efforts to answer that question.

From the first scene of the story on page 1, the plot takes on a violent tone, and remains edgy throughout. Were there other thriller authors whose writing inspired you to pursue this genre?

James McLaughlin

I always preferred books with a lot of action, and I didn’t mind violent action, and I have to admit I never outgrew that preference. For years, I mostly read writers like Jim Harrison, Tom McGuane, Rick Bass, Peter Matthiessen, Ed Abbey, James Dickey, and Cormac McCarthy, who came out with No Country for Old Men a couple of years before I decided to reimagine Bearskin. You find violence in some of those guys’ work, but they’re not genre.

Then in the early-mid-aughts I started reading and enjoying and admiring more crime, mystery, and thriller authors like John Lawton, Lee Child, Tana French, Don Winslow. I’m sure all of those influences affected how I approached the myriad decisions made during the rewriting process. Rice Moore kept insisting on violent thriller elements, and I kept writing them in.

What are we to make of Rice’s hallucinations and frequent feelings of dislocation, often mentioned along with his severe sleep deprivation?

That stuff is important to Rice’s psychology, and yes, one aspect is the “fugues” he suffers from time to time–his first occurs in the violent prologue scene–where he temporarily loses his sense of self and becomes disoriented.

The fugues are a manifestation of trauma, I think. He’s traumatized by what happened to him, what he has done to others, and by what he fears is coming for him. He’s repressing his memories, his past, his violent nature, but at the same time he’s wide open, unguarded against his current circumstances.

When the main narrative begins, for months he has been living alone and in an emotionally vulnerable state in a remote and ancient forest. The place has a serious mojo, whether it’s purely biological or possibly supernatural–a local tells him the mountain is haunted. Rice has come to feel relatively safe there, and without quite realizing it, he has entered into an intense relationship with the forest, the mountain, the rich ecosystem he has been immersed in.

After he starts finding bear carcasses, for various reasons he becomes obsessed with catching poachers and pushes himself way past his own limits–he always has had a tendency to over-do things. He stops sleeping, he doesn’t return to the lodge, he fasts. He’s already vulnerable, so these stressors mess with his head. Gradually at first, then more insistently, his confidence in the distinction between real and imagined or dreamed experience erodes. He may be experiencing some reality that’s otherwise inaccessible, or he may just be hallucinating.

I wanted to explore what happens when a person opens up to the world in a truly extreme way and experiences a wild, ancient place without the usual filters. For some folks, it’s their favorite part of the novel. Others don’t know what to make of it.

Why did it take more than two decades to write this book, as I’ve read? (Even though the book actually reveals dual plots, the way you’ve organized it explains the whole story very clearly!)

It’s fun to say that it took 20 years, and that is the span of time from when I started to when it was published–actually it was almost 24 years–but really, I wrote it in two stages: first I spent several years writing a first novel about a guy who encounters bear poachers on his family’s property. That one, also titled Bearskin, wasn’t published.

Then, years later I started over, using the same setting and the bear poaching premise, but with new characters. I wrote the first few chapters over several months, and that part was published as a novella in the Missouri Review, but when I finally sat down to extend it into a new novel, it took four years to finish a draft and then another 18 months of revising before my agent took me on. More revision followed, of course.

Your writing style is very “efficient”–not a lot of wasted words. How would you describe it, and how did it develop?

Thank you. It’s funny because I enjoy and admire a number of writers who are known for their flamboyant writing, but it does seem I generally have a low tolerance for wordiness in my own work. I revise a lot, and it seems as I’m revising I’m usually cutting instead of adding. That might be one reason it take me so long to write anything.

I haven’t thought about how I’d describe it. Maybe I’m trying to convey what I’m after without forcing the reader to wade through too much self-indulgent prose?

I understand you are already working on a prequel AND a sequel to this book. Please tell me about that!

It may be overstating it to call it a prequel, but my next novel is one I’ve worked on intermittently for years, and right now it looks like Rice and his girlfriend Apryl will show up near the end when the setting moves to southern Arizona.

More to the point, I’m working on notes and plans for a third book that will more directly follow Bearskin. Rice Moore and the other characters in Bearskin are compelling, and I’m definitely not yet finished with them.

Bearskin is Lemuria’s August 2018 selection for our First Editions Club for Fiction.

Author Q & A with Julia Reed

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (August 5)

Mississippi’s Julia Reed, a columnist and author of six previous books, has blessed her fans with yet another salute to the South, this time with South Toward Home: Adventures and Misadventures in My Native Land, a collection of essays culled from “The High & the Low,” her regular column in Garden & Gun magazine.

A Greenville native, Reed left her hometown at 16 to attend Madeira School in McLean, Virginia, outside of Washington, D.C., then went on to Georgetown University and American University.

Her time at Madeira became the basis for two essays in South Toward Home, subtly named “Grace Under Pressure” and “Good Country, Bad Behavior.” Those essays, she explains, are about her high school years at the school and “and about how my murderous (true story) headmistress inadvertently kick-started my journalist career.” Other essays tend more toward the familiar, and cover such Southern topics as alligator hunting, summer camp, and the Delta Hot Tamale Festival.

With a foreword by Jon Meacham, the book earns points for Reed’s role as “one of the country’s most astute and insightful chroniclers of the things that matter most.”

Julia Reed

Reed began her career in the Washington bureau of Newsweek magazine and later worked in New York as an editor and writer for Vogue. In addition to writing for Garden & Gun, she contributes to Veranda and the Wall Street Journal‘s WSJ magazine.

Do you have plans to move back Greenville from New Orleans? I’ve heard you’re building a house in Greenville.

I will still keep my treehouse of an apartment in the Garden District of New Orleans. But I am indeed building a house in Greenville that is almost finished. It’s across a country road from the pasture where I used to keep my horse. It’s a slice of Delta heaven–I’m calling it my Delta Folly–and I’ve long had the dream of building a place on that spot. I can hardly wait to be in there with my hound dog Henry. Of course, I’ve already planned a kajillion parties.

Your new book is a collection of essays you’ve written about the South, including Mississippi. What do you hope readers will take from them?

There are plenty (of essays) about Mississippi, and especially about the Delta, since that’s always been “home” to me. But as Jon Meacham says in his foreword: “Her canvas is the whole South, stretching from the dives of New Orleans up through her beloved Delta and winding up, naturally, in the northern reaches of Virginia, at the Madeira School for girls.”

What I hope people get from them is a view of the South in all its complicated, sometimes embarrassing glory. I cover everything from Scotch whiskey to the lowly possum and a lot of stuff in between: our food, our music, our fun-loving proclivities, our tendency toward committing a whole lot of mayhem in the name of the Lord. One of the things I hope people take away from the book–and one of the things we might should teach the rest of the country, especially in these increasingly fraught times–is the crucial importance of being able to laugh at oneself.

The title of your book, of course, invokes memories of Mississippi writer Willie Morris’s North Toward Home. Tell me how the title of your book fits the theme of this work.

Willie was born in Yazoo City, not far from where I grew up, so of course I knew of him, even as a kid. I was still a kid when North Toward Home came out in 1967, but not long afterward, I read my parents’ copy and I knew, even then, that it was the kind of memoir every writer should aspire to. Willie, like so many of us, went north from Mississippi to make his fame and fortune, to create a life and career.

I had a wonderful, rich life and career as a journalist in Washington and New York. But after a while, I missed my native land. When I returned home for visits, I’d rent the biggest car I could find in Memphis–even though in those days there was a plane from Memphis to Greenville–roll down the windows and blare the air, and breathe in that inimitable Delta scent of soil and pesticide. I swear it was like heaven. One of my favorite drives remains that route from Memphis, much of which is on Old Highway One, the road that hugs the river parallel to Highway 61. Eden Brent has a terrific song about that road called “Mississippi Number One.”

Anyway, I finally moved back, as did Willie before he left us, so South Toward Home seemed appropriate as a title and an homage of sorts.

The humor in your writing is unmistakable, and it gives a lighthearted nudge to encourage fellow Southerners to laugh at themselves while considering a wide and diverse range of topics in South Toward Home–including the use of grits as a weapon, the mixture of lust and politics, and the merits of taxidermy, to name a few. How did you develop your keen sense of humor, and learn to shape it into your writing in the form of personal “life lessons,” often in the face of sobering circumstances?

Well, as I said,, we’ve long had more than enough reason to laugh at ourselves, so it’s a useful skill to have. Plus, there’s just a lot of stuff down here that’s flat out funny. I mean, in one of the book’s chapters I talk about a New Orleans socialite who not only planned her own funeral, but attended it–with a glass of champagne in hand. She was seated onstage at the Saenger Theater, a cigarette in one hand and champagne in the other while people went up to pay their respects–or just plain ogle. The photo of her dead self, living it up, made the front page of the Advocate. If I wrote that as fiction everyone would say it was too over the top. You literally can’t make this stuff up.

There’s another essay about the Mississippi coroner who declared one poor man dead–except that he wasn’t. They figured out he was alive when they saw movement in his leg just as they were about to pump him with embalming fluid.

As my friend Anne McGee said at the time, “That gives some new urgency to the phrase ‘Shake a leg.'” We almost fell over we started laughing so hard. What else is there to do? Life is pretty funny, and laughter is really, really good for you. It’s an infinitely better choice than the alternative.

I also had the good fortune to be raised by very funny parents who had very funny friends. It’s like not knowing what real Chinese food tastes like until you finally go to Chinatown–or something like that. I thought everybody was funny until I left home, and then, sadly, I found out otherwise.

In what ways would you say being a Mississippian has shaped your life and career positively; and in what areas would you say we still have a way to go?

I have a baseball cap that says, “American by Birth, Southern by the Grace of God.” It was given to me as a joke, but it’s sort of on the money. I am especially grateful that I was born in the time and place that I was–the Greenville I grew up in was a cultural hotbed, full of writers and artists and lots of goings on. We had a Pulitzer Prize-winning newspaper, which is still there, thank goodness. During that heyday of journalism, talented reporters came from all over the country to work for Hodding Carter. I decided that seemed like a pretty good way to make a living.

Plus, my next-door neighbors Bern and Franke Keating wrote a took pictures for National Geographic. I loved the idea of having a magazine send me around the world to learn stuff and I got a lot that when I was at Vogue. I went everywhere from Los Angeles to London to Paris to Manila to Moscow and Kabul. And I saws many, many miles of America on various presidential campaign buses and trains. I was really lucky in my career–I had a blast.

As for how far we have to go, Mississippi has done a pretty good job lately at facing down some our more shameful and horrific ghosts. When I come to Jackson to sign at Lemuria and again for the Book Fest, I want to make a lot time to experience the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum, which I hear is amazing. But we should not allow ourselves to get complacent on that subject, ever.

And, of course, we have a whole lot more work to do on a lot of fronts. In one of the essays in the book, I make reference to our abysmal record in nutrition and education by saying that at this point we should just print up bumper stickers reading “First in Fatness, Last in Literacy.” That is actually not funny. Now that I’m going to be a homeowner in Greenville, I look forward to getting more deeply involved in the community and its many needs.

What can you share with readers about your appearance with Garden & Gun editor-in-chief David DiBenedetto at the Mississippi Book Festival this year?

Dave and I have done events like this a couple of times before. We love each other and we love to laugh and yack with each other. Our conversation onstage is not unlike the conversations we’ve had in various bars around the South.

Do you have other writing projects in mind at this time?

Next spring, my eighth book, Julia Reed’s New Orleans, a cooking and entertaining book that is a companion volume to Julia Reed’s South, will be published by Rizzoli.

Julia Reed will be at Lemuria on Wednesday, August 8, at 5:00 p.m. to sign and read from South Toward Home: Adventures and Misadventures in My Native Land.

Reed will also appear at the Mississippi Book Festival on August 18 in conversation with Garden & Gun editor David DiBenedetto at 12:00 p.m. at the Galloway Fellowship Center.

Author Q & A with Gary Krist

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (July 29)

Gary Krist’s fascinating account of the history of Los Angeles during the first three decades of the 20th century puts a highly personal face on the mage-city’s early days through the almost unbelievable stories of three of its most interesting and important influencers in The Mirage Factory: Illusion, Imagination, and the Invention of Los Angeles (Crown Publishing).

The stories of engineer William Mulholland, filmmaker D.W. Griffith, and evangelist Aimee Semple McPherson weave a dramatic and entertaining narrative that reveals much of how the unique culture and personality of today’s Los Angeles evolved.

Krist also authored the bestselling Empire of Sin and City of Scoundrels as well as The White Cascade, along with five novels. HIs work has appeared in the New York TimesEsquire, the Wall Street JournalWashington Post Book World, and other publications.

His work has earned honors that include the Stephen Crane Award, the Sue Kaufman Prize from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, a Lowell Thomas Gold Medal for Travel Journalism, and others.

Gary Krist

Born and raised in Fort Lee, New Jersey, just across the river from Manhattan, Krist earned a degree in Comparative Literature from Princeton and later studied in Germany on a Fulbright Scholarship. He went on to live in New York City, then Bethesda, Maryland, for more than two decades before returning to his home state of New Jersey–where today, he and his wife Elizabeth Cheng now live in “an apartment in Jersey City right on the river looking out toward lower Manhattan.”

In your most recent books, you’ve written about New Orleans (Empire of Sin) and Chicago (City of Scoundrels). What led you to write about Los Angeles?

I see The Mirage Factory as the third of a trilogy of city narratives, the first two being, as you mention, the books about Chicago and New Orleans. It’s been fascinating to explore how each city grew and developed over time, each one coping with similar issues but in different ways, depending on the particular people and circumstances in each place.

What intrigued me about Los Angeles was the fact that this remarkable urban entity grew up in a place where no city should logically be. The area was too dry, too far from natural resources and potential markets; it was isolated by deserts and mountain ranges and without a good deep-water port. And yet it grew from a largely agricultural town of 100,000 in 1900 to a major metropolis of 1.2 million by 1930. That feat required imagination, not to mention some really unorthodox tactics–including plenty of deceptive advertising–and that’s the story I wanted to tell.

Please explain the title of the book.

The main point I wanted to convey in the title is that, granted, the city being promoted in the early 20th century was at first more image than reality, but eventually the hard work was done to make those mirages real. Since the site of Los Angeles lacked so many of the usual inducements to growth, city boosters trying to convince people and businesses to move to L.A. had to do a little creative salesmanship.

For instance, L.A. was advertised as a blossoming garden in the desert long before it had enough water to sustain that image; but eventually, through an enormous expenditure of creativity, effort, and money, it solved the problem by building the aqueduct. The city was also attracting too little industry; it solved this problem by more or less creating its own brand-new industry–motion pictures–a business literally based on selling images to the public.

So, while some people have interpreted the title too negatively, I see the term “mirage” as having both negative and positive connotations; a mirage, after all, stops being fraudulent when it actually takes physical form and becomes real.

The stories of the rise and fall of the figures you’ve chosen to highlight in this well-documented history of Los Angeles from 1900 to 1930 would probably be deemed almost unbelievable if they were fictional. In The Mirage Factory, you’ve chosen “three flawed visionaries,” as you called them, to tell the story of the city’s growth and cultural development during these years: engineer William Mulholland, filmmaker D.W. Griffith; and evangelist Aimee Semple McPherson. When you were conducting research for ideas, how did you settle on these three?

I always like to put a human face on the history I’m telling, so I try to focus on a few individuals whose stories allow me to discuss the important issues in a concrete way. these people are not necessarily the most influential figures in a city’s history, and they’re certainly not the individuals who “single-handedly” built the city–cities are always a group effort. But they must in some way be representative of the larger forces that DID build the city.

In the case of The Mirage Factory, I needed individuals to represent the three strands of the story I wanted to weave together–what I sometimes refer to as the water story, the celluloid story (i.e. Hollywood), and the spirituality story.

The first was a no-brainer; Mulholland was the dominant figure in L.A.’s water story for decades, and you really can’t tell the city’s history without him. For the celluloid story, I had a number of possible choices–Cecil B. DeMille, Charlie Chaplin, or on the studio heads like Adolph Zukor–but ultimately Griffith seemed to be the seminal figure, the person most responsible for taking the motion picture from a vaudeville house novelty to an industry-supporting art form. And as for McPherson, she may seem an obscure choice, since she’s not well known now; but in her day, she was at least as famous and influential as the other two, and she brought a large number of spiritually-seeking people to L.A.

Of course, the fact that all three of these people were fascinating individuals–with character flaws as big as their talents–was a definite bonus for me as a storyteller.

The city’s explosion in population from 1900 to 1930 was incredible, and you state that there were three main migrations to the city: the first being the well-off; the second primarily middle class; and third being those lower socioeconomic status who arrived hoping to become laborers. Tell me about the evolution of the city’s population as the years passed.

One thing that really surprised me when I was researching was how relatively homogeneous L.A.’s population was in the early decades of the 20th century, compared to that of other American cities. Given L.A.’ s current identity as a rich multicultural center, it was astonishing to me that the Los Angeles of the 1900s and 1910s still lacked large Latino, Asian, and African-American populations. That changed, of course, over the 1920s and 1930s, and especially during and after World War II. But until the 1920s, the city was drawing new residents largely from the well-heeled white populations of the Midwestern and Eastern states.

Taking each of the main characters individually, I’ll start with the contributions of Mulholland–an uneducated, self-taught man who would later be recognized as one of the leading engineers in the world. Why was his role so vital to the city’s existence and its future?

Mulholland was a phenomenon–a tireless autodidact with a remarkable memory and a prodigious work ethic who chose to devote his entire life to taking on the technical challenges of his adopted city. Every city should be so lucky. He was chief engineer of the Department of Water and Power, and its predecessor agencies, for decades, during which time he built the city’s water system up from essentially a small network of wooden pipes and open ditches. Really, the conception and construction of the L.A. Aqueduct was only one of his many feats.

The problem with Mulholland was that he began to believe the fastest and most efficient way to get things done was to do it all himself. As a result, he often proceeded without sufficient oversight and input from people who might have had more expertise in a specific area. In the end, that was the character flaw that led to the St. Francis Dam disaster and finished his career.

The role that D.W. Griffith played in the film industry was a major contribution to the city’s growth, providing thousands of jobs. What made his efforts to establish the industry in Los Angeles so successful?

Griffith essentially laid the groundwork for narrative motion pictures by taking many of the techniques being developed in the early years–close-ups, tracking shots, crosscutting–and combining them into a coherent and flexible grammar of visual storytelling. He didn’t invent those techniques, as he sometimes claimed, but he was uniquely successful at blending them to tell a powerful story.

As for turning movies into a major industry, though, it was the extraordinary financial success of his film The Birth of a Nation–as problematic as its racism was and is–that finally convinced Wall Street and the Eastern banks that movies were more than just a cottage industry–that they could be a big business comparable to steel, oil, and textiles.

The story of Aimee Semple McPherson is one I’ve never heard, but fascinating. Her evangelistic leadership played into and strengthened the city’s openness about spiritual matters. How is her influence still seen in the city?

McPherson’s extremely high profile in the 1920s and 30s allowed her to spread the word about Los Angeles as a center of often unconventional spirituality. Her unique combination of a positive and inclusive message with a heavy dose of arresting spectacle, including faith healing, speaking in tongues, dramatic illustrated sermons, and the like, became a powerful attraction for seekers of all kinds.

That legacy is preserved in the continuing relevance of the church she built–the Angelus Temple in the Echo Park neighborhood–and its outreach ministry, the Dream Center, which aids the city’s poor, homeless, addicted, and displaced. And the religion she founded, the Church of the Foursquare Gospel, now has over 6 million members worldwide.

During its early years, Los Angeles was in somewhat of a competition with San Francisco to become a leading and more influential American city, despite its location in the middle of a large desert. Why did L.A. win?

I wouldn’t say that San Francisco has really “lost” the competition, since it remains a hugely vital and influential city, but L.A. has outstripped it in size and, arguably, at least, in worldwide impact. It’s hard to say exactly why that happened, especially since San Francisco had such a long lead on L.A., developing as a city many decades earlier.

In a way, Los Angeles had to work harder. For instance, San Francisco had a superb natural harbor; L.A., on the other hand, had to undertake extensive improvements to make its harbor competitive. San Francisco had the enormous wealth created by the gold rush to jump-start its growth; L.A. had to figure out creative ways to bring investment and population to the city. So maybe it’s a matter of necessity being the mother of invention.

I’m a big fan of yours. do you already have a new writing project in the works?

I’m still in the early stages of research for the next project, but San Francisco attracts me as another, entirely different city whose history I’d like to explore. So maybe my trilogy of city narratives will become a quartet.

The Mirage Factory is Lemuria’s August 2018 selection for our First Editions Club for Nonfiction. Gary Krist will appear at the Mississippi Book Festival Aug. 18 as a participant in the American History panel at 10:45 a.m. at the C-SPAN room in Old Supreme Court Room at the State Capitol.

Author Q & A with Stephen Mack Jones

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (July 22)

Rookie thriller/mystery writer Stephen Mack Jones saw his first novel published at age 63–but his fans would likely say it’s a “crime” he didn’t get into this business sooner.

Following the debut release of August Snow in February, readers are already awaiting Lives Laid Away, the second of what is becoming a hit series, set to be on bookshelves in early January.

Born in Lansing, Michigan, Jones now lives in Farmington Hills, outside of Detroit, and it is here that the action of August Snow–and there’s plenty of it–brews in his beloved home state.

His first book introduces readers to the tough guy persona of ex-cop August Snow, who was forced off the city’s police squad, award a $12 million settlement for his trouble, and soon found himself dragged into the biggest case of his career. The story in influenced in prat on a corruption scandal involving Detroit’s mayor a decade ago and is informed by urban standoffs around the country in recent years between protesters and heavily-armed police. In the process, Jones give the embattled city of Detroit a fair shake, as locals can appreciate his many detailed images of the city.

Jones is a published poet, an award-winning playwright, a recipient of the Kresge Arts in Detroit Literary Fellowship. He worked in advertising and marketing for several years before turning his attention to full-time fiction writing.

Please tell me about yourself.

Stephen Mack Jones

In some ways, I’m the product of a home like August was raised in. My father was a hard-working blue-collar man who’d quit school in the 10th grade so he could work and contribute to his family–his mom and dad, brothers and sister. He never graduated from high school, but he was always a reader–everything for Carl Sandburg to Langston Hughes, to Shakespeare, Isaac Bashevis Singer and Studs Turkel.

My mom had a bit of college and a love opera. She had a beautiful voice! She’d sing arias from Turandot, Carmen, or Tosca while ironing my dad’s work blues of cooking the Sunday beef roast. Both of my parents made sure my brother and I took reading and education seriously. In fact, they saw no difference between the two.

So, like August, I’ve had heroes in my life–my mom and dad–who lived everyday, quietly heroic lives in order to raise children above their own origin stories.

As to charting my so-called “career path,” let’s just say you could probably give a 2-year-old a fistful of candy, a crayon, and a blank sheet of paper, and they’d ending up charting my career path with 99 percent accuracy! Thirty years in advertising and marketing communications with stops at play-writing, poetry, selling Buicks, and making sandwiches.

Your talent for writing is quite diverse. After your success with poetry and screenplays, what caught your interest in writing crime novels?

I’ve always loved reading mysteries and science fiction. Between Dashiell Hammett, Agatha Christie, and Ray Bradbury there were the poets–Pablo Neruda, Octavio Paz, and Nikki Giovanni. Poetry is where I learned–and continue to learn–how words carry their own special weight and possess their own unique colors.

But I always come back to mysteries and thrillers. To be able to actively engage someone’s imagination, work their emotions and increase their heart rate through a puzzle constructed from words. It’s also the ideal genre to occasionally have important sociopolitical commentary fly in under the radar.

August Snow tells the story of a young man who grows up in Detroit’s Mexicantown, goes on to become a cop, and finds himself without a job after exposing the corruption of his own mayor. He sues the city and wins a $12 million wrongful termination settlement that sets him up financially for life–but distances him from many of his “friends.” He sets out to start a new life in his own neighborhood, and that’s when things get interesting! As your debut novel, how did you go about formulating the full plot of August Snow and developing its many colorful characters?

I never tell myself, “I’m going to write a book today!” That sounds scaring and daunting, doesn’t it? What I do in telling a story is what I used to do when my son was young, and, at bedtime, he’d want me to tell him a story. But not a story from a book. A story from me!

Well, my son is 21 now and me making up stories for him at bedtime would just be damned weird, right? So, I tell myself stories–1,200 to 1,400 words at a time. The length of a chapter. And it has to keep me entertained and informed.

This is why my characters have to surprise, move, and intrigue me. They have to fascinate me from the color of their eyes to the clothes they choose to wear to the cadence of their speech. A few of the characters in both August Snow and the new book Lives Laid Away I’ve known. Most others are characters I’d like to know. The others just give me the heebie-jeebies!

Snow is a man of contrasts–a smart, tough rebel with a decided attitude, a softie for kids and the elderly, a man on a mission to improve his old neighborhood–who embodies a sort of hero for his city. Even his name, August Snow, is intriguing, striking an image of opposites–very hot and very cold. Is there a hidden message in his name?

Ya know, I hate to admit it, but I’m the last guy in the room who actually go the contrast of his name! My read my fourth draft of August Snow and said, “He’s the perfect reflection of his name! Emotionally, he can run hot–like the month of August, or cold–like snow!”

Or course, having a man’s stupid pride, I said, “Yeah–just like I planned it, babe.” But the truth was, inside I was saying to myself, “Holy cow! How’d I miss that?”

Your affection for Detroit and your home state of Michigan comes through in August Snow, with vivid descriptions of and references to real places and events, all while exposing its hardships alongside its charms. Tell me about why it was important to you to show Detroit, which has endured its share of hard times over the past few decades, in a realistic balance.

For years, any time Detroit was referenced in the news media or through movies and TV shows, there was a quick, stereotype shorthand that was used: flying sparks from auto assembly lines, boarded-up buildings and burnt-out houses, decaying neighborhoods. “Ruin porn.”

And while those things still exist, you rarely see the other side of the story: New apartments and condos to accommodate young professionals in information technology or marketing. Successful start-ups from people who’d lost faith in the city five years earlier. High-end fashion boutiques. Theater and live music options. Restaurants for whatever tastes you have–Mexican, Vietnamese, Brazilian, Italian, French, Greek, Thai, Nigerian, Mediterranean, or just good old Southern home cooking.

And it’s a city that supports its artists. Just ask anybody–like me–who’s won a Kresge Arts in Detroit Fellowship. So, it’s important to me to give readers not only the varied look and feel of the city, but the aromas and textures of a city that’s forever tied to its socioeconomic and racial past while actively reinventing itself for the future.

Please tell me about Lives Laid Away, set for release in January.

A young, anonymous Hispanic woman dressed as Queen Marie Antoinette is dredged from the Detroit River. Another, dressed like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, is pulled from the nearby Rouge River. Both undocumented, both subjected to unspeakable cruelties and torture. And more young women are going missing–many from August Snow’s Mexicantown neighborhood.

The Detroit police are undermanned and overwhelmed, and August’s neighbors and local business owners are growing more fearful every day. August takes it upon himself to find out what’s going on and he gets pulled into the dangerous world of human trafficking and treacherous secrets–and potentially illegal operations among the DEA, FBI, and ICE. Getting information that will help him understand and end the kidnappings and murders will also force August to contact men he put in prison five years earlier as a Detroit cop: Legendary Detroit criminal kingpin Marcus “Duke” Ducane and his monstrously large and psychotic bodyguards, The Compton Twins.

I’ve read that the movie rights to August Snow have been negotiated. Will we be seeing it on the big screen at some point? 

I can’t really say much until it’s officially announced by the production company, but, let’s just say yes–there’s a very good chance you’ll see August Snow on the big or small screen in the near future.

Is there a new direction or genre you’d like to take your writing, and/or do you have other works in progress already? Poetry? More screenplays?

Right now, I’m just having fun telling stores about he life and times of August Snow! I’ve truly been blessed by the success of the book has enjoyed, including four award nominations: the Hammett Award, the Nero Award, Shamus Award, and the Strand Magazine Critics Award.

And to be honest, I didn’t get this far with the book on my own; my family has my back as does Stephany Evans, my literary agent, and the really fantastic people at Soho Press.

At this point, I hate to do this, but I have to excuse myself and get back to work–the third August Snow is calling!

Stephen Mack Jones will appear at the Mississippi Book Festival Aug. 18 as a participant in the “Life’s Great Mysteries” mystery panel at 12:00 p.m. in the State Capitol Room 201 H.

Author Q & A with Isabelle Armand

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (July 15)

New York City photographer Isabelle Armand said she was “instantly inspired” to tell the stories of the wrongful convictions, incarcerations, and eventual exonerations of two rural Mississippi men when she first read about their cases more than five years ago.

In her new book, Levon and Kennedy: Mississippi Innocence Project (PowerHouse Books), Armand has visually documented the everyday lives of Levon Brooks and Kennedy Brewer over a five-year period after their release from the Mississippi State Penitentiary in Parchman. The black and white images of the men and their families, captured in and around their homes in the small rural Mississippi town of Brooksville, includes quotations that convey their thoughts and feelings of regret and joy about the miscarriage of justice and the eventual outcome of their cases.

The men had been charged in separate murder cases committed 18 months apart in the early 1990s. Brooks was sentenced to life and was imprisoned 18 years; Brewer received a death sentence and served 15 years.

It was through the diligent work of The Innocence Project, along with DNA testing, that Brewere and Brooks were cleared of all charges and freed in 2008.

Armand’s book includes text by Tucker Carrington, director of the George C. Cochran Innocence Project at the University of Mississippi School of Law, who, with Washington Post reporter Radley Balko, co-authored the book The Cadaver King and the Country Dentist, also related to the cases of Brewer and Brooks.

Armand acknowledges the support of artist Olivier Renaud-Clement, the Shoen Foundation, PowerHouse Books, and Meridian Printing for the production of her book.

Her distinctive photography works can be found in private and museum collections, and have been exhibited in the United States. They have also been featured in national and international publications.

Tell me about your background, and how you became interested in photography.

I was born and raised in Paris. My mother was a Vogue editor and worked with amazing photographers such as Helmut Newton and Guy Bourdin. We had many photography books of the masters. I was always around photography and got the best possible education. I was especially drawn to the works of Walker Evans, Dorthea Lange, Brassai, Cartier-Bresson, Roy DeCarava, Edward Curtis, who documented people and places. They were storytellers of life. But at first, I followed in my mother’s steps and worked as a stylist there, and here.

I left France at 20 to come to New York, which I still love some 30 years later.

Do you have family or other connections to Mississippi?

A lifelong inspiration would be my only connection to Mississippi. I grew up fascinated with the U.S.; at first, it was through cinema. The West, New York, and the South seemed mythical places.

In Paris, I was around Blues musicians, and our idols were Robert Johnson, Little Walter, Muddy Waters, and the like. Mississippi captured my imagination, a fundamental American culture was born there, and I find the place incredibly rich and deeply textured.

How did you hear about the cases of Levon Brooks and Kennedy Brewer? When and why did you decide to become involved in them?

I came across an article about the cases’ forensics in 2012. It was a troubling account of a flawed and corrupt process, when reality goes beyond fiction. It triggered many questions; how, why, and where could this happen? I was instantly inspired to tell their story in photographs. I waited for several months, but the story stayed with me. Finally, I contacted Tucker Carrington, and suggested a photographic documentary around Levon’s and Kennedy’s experiences.

When did you begin photographing the images in this book, and how long did it take?

I began to photograph Levon and Kennedy and their families in June 2013. The last images and interviews were done in July 2017. I would go each year to spend time with them, take pictures, and collect interviews. With printing, editing both the images and the interviews, it took five years.

What were your goals (artistic and otherwise) for this project, as far as what you wanted to capture, how you envisioned the large photo collection would be organized, etc.?

The goal was to create a compelling visual essay to raise awareness about wrongful conviction. It’s a reality, which mostly remains abstract until we see it with our own eyes. I felt an intimate photo essay would bring the story of Levon and Kennedy to the forefront. We’d get to know them and their families like our own, and realize that the system can crush anyone.

I envisioned this essay pretty much like it is now. I started with retracing Levon’s and Kennedy’s childhoods, and visiting places which were meaningful to them, then and now. I’d document everyday life; family members, families’ gatherings, birthdays, July 4th, as well as their rural environment. With time, the project took a life of its own.

I love black and white film. It mutes unnecessary noise, and it sets off the essence of the subjects for me. Also, light on film is magic.

I edited as I went along, for each family, until editing for the book, when I had to look at the images in a new light. I eliminated a few photographs and created a new visual narrative. Damien Saatdjian, the graphic designer, gave it great breathing space and rhythm.

Both men and their families seem to have very forgiving spirits about their ordeals. Did that surprise you?

I knew a little about them prior to meeting them, so I wasn’t surprised. They were very angry when it happened. But spending 18 years in prison, or 10 on death row, they had to deal with it in a certain way, or it would destroy them. They had to make some peace with their situation, so they could endure and still be the men they wanted to be. Levon was thrown into a dangerous general population and chose to become a good influence. He saved lives and he was respected. Kennedy, isolated in his cell 24/7 while facing death, chose to educate himself, read, wrote, and prayed. Thinking of his ordeal every day was not an option, like he says in the book, “You’d go crazy.” Yet, he thought about it because he was trying to save himself, which he did by writing to the Innocence Project.

Besides where, how, and why this happened, my question was, “How does one and one’s family cope with wrongful conviction?” Both men and their families stick to a strong philosophy of life.

Levon and Kennedy have large families who supported them during their incarcerations, and you got to know them during the course of this project. What can you tell me about them–their thoughts on their loved ones’ false imprisonment, their attitudes about living in their rural Mississippi communities, their hopes for their own futures and that of their children and grandchildren? (It’s notable that, although many of them mentioned racial prejudice as an everyday event, most prefer to stay because of close family ties and the “peace and quiet” they enjoy.)

I interviewed everyone for the quotes you see in the book, and it depends on the individual. Most feel that the criminal justice system needs major changes. They lived through the most tragic consequences of this system, and their community still does in many ways. Levon and Kennedy’s wrongful incarceration is something they all want to put behind them, even though they have strong opinions about it.

These families have been there for generations, they are attached to their land loved ones, and most don’t want to leave. Some of the younger people are torn between the desire to go places offering more opportunities and diversity, and their love for their family and area. Every parent hopes for a better future for their children, but few think things will change in Mississippi. However, they all go about living their full lives. They ignore and rise above external pressures.

Sadly, Levon passed away this past January, after 10 years of freedom. Did he get to see this book?

Levon was the first person to receive the book right from the printer. He took it all around town, and he was proud of it.

The way the book is bound is wonderful–I love the way the book itself is the book jacket! As an artist, tell me about the decision to create this book like this, in that it makes such a strong impression before it’s even opened!

I don’t like jackets on books and I wanted the cover printed with a discreet lamination. I didn’t want any typo on the cover, either. I felt Levon and Kennedy were so powerful in this photograph that they drew you in. The book wouldn’t be what it is without the work of my lab Laumont on the book files, and the amazing printing of Meridian Printing. And again, Damien Saatdjian’s input was also invaluable to achieve the results we wanted.

Isabelle Armand will appear at the Mississippi Book Festival Aug. 18 as a participant in the “Seeing the Light in Mississippi” photography panel at 4:00 p.m. at the Galloway Fellowship Center.

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