You know, you’re bound to attract
unfair envy. Here you are with your uncommon name…your uncommonly beautiful
book, Emily’s Stitches…another project going on every other burner…and, oh
yeah, that PhD. And yet I’m reminded of something I wrote: that the world is
filled with wannabe Van Goghs…who are over-attached to their ears. What I mean
is that envy is most often based on ignorance of the real price that’s been
paid. Can you tell us a bit about Emily’s journey, from conception to
completion, and the toll it took on you?
Emily’s Stitches began as a writing exercise. I wanted to write an entire novel made up of self-contained short stories. When I first wrote it, I thought it had Pulitzer written all over it. When I dug it out last year for the first time in over a decade, I realized I may have overvalued it a bit. while not prize-winning material after all, it is still, however, an enjoyable story. It may not be the great American novel I thought it in my cock mid-twenties, but it is, I think, a pretty good novella.
I don’t
know that I’d say it took a toll on me, but there were definitely sections that
were pretty hard to write. I’m thinking mostly of the sex scene in “The
Primrose Path.” I wouldn't have even tried except that it was a matter of
honor: My writing buddy, Will Blair, double-dog dared me to write a sex scene,
and anyone who has seen A Christmas Story
knows no self-respecting male can honorably retreat from such a challenge.
I was
house sitting for the mother of one of my childhood friends. She owned a nice
house out in the country near a lake, and I had intended to spend the week
walking in the woods, maybe fishing in the lake. This was my last year of
graduate school before I got my Master's
degree, and I knew it was going to be the last summer I could, in good
conscience do nothing, I had every intention of not hitting a lick at a snake
all week. Instead, I struggled with this
scene the whole time.
There is
a balance that needs to be struck between describing the physical act of love:
too much and you sound either mechanical (bad) or comical (worse). I spent
every day pacing the floor reading the scene and re-reading the scene out loud.
I would try to mentally see the scene as I read, and sometimes, I'm embarrassed to admit, I even tried to mimic the actions I was describing on the page to see
if they made sense or were even physically possible. It is not an experience I
hope to have again, but I hope I managed to write a piece that titillates,
amuses, and (given the nature of the story and the context of the scene)
revolts you just a little.
What about your own evolution,
the sense of yourself as a writer? When did the magic come to you, the great
Yeah …Baby Moment when you knew you really had the power to pull whatever you
fancied?
Well, I'm still not sure I have the power to pull whatever I
wanted, but I knew I wanted to be a writer from the time I learned to read. I
wanted to be the guy who put movies in your head just by the order in which he
put 26 letters and a handful of punctuation marks. I tried my hand at writing
several things throughout my childhood, none of them really very good.
I knew I had the ability to
be a decent writer in 10th grade. I co-wrote a play for English class parodying
Shakespeare's life. It was about as derivative as anything else I had written
up to that point, heavily influenced by Monty Python and Douglas Adams.
However, I got to see it put on stage when my co-writer, Jack Mayfield was
allowed to stage it at his school. Watching other people, whom I had nnever
met, laugh at my work (especially when I wanted them to laugh) gave me a
feeling I cannot adequately describe, so I won't. It felt good though, I can
say that much.
Later that year, I wrote a
short story for my drama class (yeah I know, a play for lit class, and a story
for drama, I've never been one to bow to expectations if I can do it just as
well differently). The teacher gave each of us a picture from Chris Van
Allsburg's The Mysteries of Hearris
Burdick. If you're unfamiliar with the book, it's a picture book that
consists of hauntingly eerie black-and-white charcoal pictures with a single
line of text. We were supposed to do something creative with our picture that
incorporated both the title and the caption.
My picture was titled
"Captain Tory." It showed the back of an old man dressed in a heavy
pea-coat and holding a lantern up over his head. Next to him stood a little
boy. Both the old man and the boy were staring into a foggy river where a
wooden boat was coming out of the mist. The caption read: "He swung the
lantern three times, and slowly the schooner appeared."
My story was a ghost story,
written from the kid's point of view. He's had a fever for days, and one night
his missing uncle, Captain Tory, shows up at his window and entices him to run
away with him to a distant land. The kid follows him all through the streets of 19th century London,
and finally arrives at the Thames, where the uncle beckons his ghostly ship,
and the kid loses his nerve. He wakes up on a park bench the next morning, his
fever broken, and returns home to his worried mother.
It's not the best story I've
ever written, but it was at that point. It was the first thing I wrote that my
dad genuinely liked. He still talks about it and asks if I'll ever publish it.
Both my wife and my god-daughter love it, and even now, I find myself tinkering
with it. Perhaps it'll show up in my next collection of stories.
Readers are often puzzled by the
orchestration strategies of successful writers. How the hell do they get
so prolific? Lawrence Sanders too came
out of nowhere, at about the age of 50, with The Anderson Tapes…then the Deadly
Sin and Commandment series…and a slew of
other titles it dizzies a man to consider.
But before achieving ‘overnight success’, he must have labored for
decades and had a huge backlog to publish. Also, he alternated the
time-consuming Sin books with the lighter Commandments, etc. So, how did you
get so prolific—and how do you plan to remain so?
It just kind of happened to
me, actually. I've been working on my current fiction project, Guns of the Waste Land, which re-tells
the Arthurian legends as a Western, for a couple of years now, but before I started that, I
wrote a short story "Misdirection" (which is collected in Stitches). In it, two hit men for the
Norse god Loki debate the paths their lives have taken as they drive to their
next assignment: to kill Baldur and begin Ragnarok. I really liked those two
guys, so I also have been tinkering with another short-story novel retelling
the Ragnarok myth as a hard-boiled mob/mystery story. I've been tinkering with
this story, too, off-and-on.
In my day job, I'm an English
professor, and I've always wanted to teach a course using H. P. Lovecraft's
work. If given the chance, I'd want to use a critical edition, where the
primary text is accompanied by several ancillary materials to help explain the
text and its thematic and historical contexts. However, there isn't one, so I
decided to make my own.
So one thing after another
just kind of happened. I stay busy on them by using each one to procrastinate
the other. I'll work on Guns if I
feel like I should be working on the Lovecraft book, I'll work on the Ragnarok
story (I was going to name it Twilight,
but the vampire lady beat me to it) when I should be writing Guns, and I do most of my writing when I
should be grading papers or otherwise preparing for class.
Somehow, though, everything
gets done.
If everything does go according
to plan, your catalog will consist of wildly disparate titles: a collection of
hauntingly beautiful stories that tie together as a novella…a retelling of the
King Arthur legends as a spaghetti Western…a critical edition of H. P.
Lovecraft’s work…and another collection of interrelated stories—retelling the
Norse Ragnarok myth as a hard-boiled detective story. Is there any common
ground here? Anything that gives a reader the sense of a Leverett Butts book?
I think the common ground is
myth and archetype. I've always been fascinated by mythology, and it informs
almost every aspect of my professional life. My master's thesis dealt with how Catch-22 redefines the hero archetype,
my doctoral dissertation looked at how Robert Penn Warren employed different
mythologies into his fiction H.P. Lovecraft's allure for me is in the
mythology that he creates and adheres to throughout almost all of his adult
fiction, and my own fiction deals heavily with myth. Obviously, my two current
projects deal overtly with myth as they literally retell Arthurian and Norse
mythologies but in unfamiliar settings, but Stitches
also employs myth, in this case the local myths that grow up around people
and places who do not seem to fit the local mold.
Most of the writers I admire
(see below) also employ myth in some manner into their writing.
When I asked my wife this
question, she pointed out that I seem to have a talent for telling grand
stories through the eyes of the common man. She points to Emily's Stitches: told from the point of view of a janitor,
"Misdirection": two hitmen, and Guns
of the Waste Land: telling the King Arthur story through the eyes of
illiterate and semi-literate cowboys.
Could we talk for just a bit
about the nuts and bolts? Anything you’d care to share about your writing
methods, routine, etc. My professional pride won’t allow me to ask—and yet I’m
dying to know: if you outline first.
I don’t
remember if I outlined ever for Stitches;
I know I had an idea in my head about how each story would fit into my overall
story arc, but I don’t know that I ever wrote anything down. With my short
fiction, I rarely outline. I have a situation in my mind, sometimes I know how
it will end up, sometimes I don’t, but I put my characters in the situation and
just start writing and see where they wind up. Kinda like God if you’re a
deist.
Guns has been a bit different, though.
I didn't start out with an outline. I wrote the first section of Chapter 1 just
like my short stories, but when I submitted it to Tag Publishing’s Great
American Novel Contest in 2010 (where it placed second, incidentally), they
required the first chapter and a synopsis of the rest of the novel, so I pretty
much had to outline it then. I still use the synopsis as my basic skeleton of
the story, though I do amend it when the story develops differently than I had
planned. For instance, my plan had been to originally divide it up according to
the sections of Sir Gawain and the Green
Knight, which I remembered as having three sections. However, after having
re-read it this summer to prepare for a world lit class, I realized it has four
sections, so I now have to decide where in my synopsis I am going to split
sections 2, 3, and 4. Also I decided to add a character based not on the
original myths, but on a character from Richard Monaco’s Parsival series, so I have to decide where he’ll fit in to the
overall plot and what he is going to do.
Which writers do you most admire?
And did you have to fight for freedom from any one of them?
My top
ten writers, in no particular order are: Richard Monaco, Neil Gaiman, Douglas
Adams, John Irving, Kurt Vonnegut, Joseph Heller, Robert Penn Warren, William
Faulkner, Stephen King, and H. P. Lovecraft. As I mentioned above most of these
writers (Monaco, Gaiman, and Lovecraft especially) tend to employ, either
overtly or subtly, a good deal of myth in their work.
I’ve not
really had to try too hard to avoid imitating their style, however. I’ll admit
that their influence in my writing can be seen by the close reader, but I don’t
think anyone would ever accuse me of sounding too much like them. If they did,
however, I’d gladly buy them a beer in thanks.
What’s it like to be Lev Butts?
If you view your life as a work in progress, where is it cooking and what needs
more work?
Robert
Penn Warren once said that he never knew what it felt like to be a Southerner
until he left the South. I suspect the same can be said about being Lev Butts.
I won’t know what it’s like until I’m somebody else. I suspect it’s better than
being some people, worse than being others, but mostly akin to being like most
anybody.
I think
my writing is good (not great, but good), but it could always be better. My
teaching is better than my writing I think, but it, too, could always use
improvement.
I think
my best quality, the one that really sets me apart from many people, is my
humility. I take an overabundance of pride in my humility; I can be humble
better than anyone else I know.
Are there any historical figures
you’d really love to have met?
I’d like
to meet Jefferson Davis. He’s a fascinating study of contradictions. Here was a man who was the president of the
Confederate States of America, who apparently supported slavery, but who ran
his plantation as a kind of training ground for his slaves to train them for
eventual freedom: establishing a slave justice system run and managed by his
slaves and prohibiting any slave to be punished unless found guilty by a jury
of peers or having exhausted any further appeals and training them in various
trades and crafts and encouraging them to practice these vocations for their
own gain. He even adopted an African-American boy, Jim Limber, as his son while
he was president, and when he was taken away from him at the end of the war,
allegedly spent the rest of his life looking for him.
This, to
me, sounds like an interesting guy.
What’s the boldest thing you've ever done?
Probably
answer that last question.
The one thing that no one
expected?
See
above.
Answer one question I've missed
here, one that offers a key to the real Leverett Butts.
I think you've about covered it, actually. I will say, though, that Emily’s Stitches: The Confessions of Thomas
Calloway and Other Stories was nominated for the 2013 Georgia Author of the
Year Award and is available as both paperback and ebook on Amazon, BarnesandNoble.com,
and lulu.com; and that the first volume of Guns
of the Waste Land, Departure,
will be available as both paperback and ebook in September on lulu.com and as
an ebook on Amazon. My plan is offer the subsequent parts one at a time every
few months or so and then release an omnibus edition when the whole work is
finished.
Lev sounds an amazing bloke. His combination of justified pride in his achievement and his self-knowledge and balanced powers of self criticism as he expresses it, is something we don't always find in writers. And the sheer, audacious range of his writing is impressive. The writers I love best are those who will not be tied down to particular genres and forms but play the whole field of literature and Lev sounds a good example.
ReplyDeleteDennis Hamley
I agree, Dennis. "Justified pride" and "audacious range" seem to sum Lev perfectly. This is not a man to be tied down.
ReplyDeleteI enjoy his writing, what I've found so far. I am anxious to read his novel, in pieces or as a whole.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Anonymous. The title piece of the collection can be read in pieces...but works even better as a whole, imo. Hope you'll try a straight read-through to see for yourself. Cheers.
ReplyDelete