Sheldon Lee Compton's Interview with Jan Bowman was originally published in Trajectory, Fall 2012, Issue 5.
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| Sheldon Lee Compton | |
Jan: Recently I read your powerful story
collection, The Same Terrible Storm, so I thought we could start by talking
about those stories.
Sheldon: Thanks for reading the book, and many thanks
for saying you consider it powerful. I’d be happy to talk some about the
stories.
Jan: How did you go about selecting and organizing
the twenty-two stories included in The Same Terrible Storm?
Sheldon: I had more or less been writing regional
stories, stories of Eastern Kentucky and the South, for a long period of time,
say from 2006 up through the spring of 2008. And by this, I mean exclusively.
Then at some point in 2008 I started noticing some solid work online,
particularly flash fiction. I had written stories of this length before, but
now I wanted to write outside the boundaries of the South or Eastern Kentucky.
The shorter form seemed to allow me this in some way. When it was all said and
done, I had an assortment of stories that needed separating. When I did this, I
had the longer form, regional stories with a mix of flash that was also
regional. I combined them and tried to give the reader an up and down of long
then short, as best as I could.
Jan: I noticed you have ten first person and ten
third person point of view stories. And some stories have characters with the
same names. Were these stories intended to be part of a longer work? Is there
some significance in this narrative structure?
Sheldon: If I said I had a structure in mind in that
sense, I’d be lying. I can say I noticed many of my stories were in first person,
and so pushed myself to write in third and other points of view. Some stories
were at one time bits and pieces of a novel I had written and shelved some
years before, but these were few and greatly altered by the time they were
finished.
I may have thrown the same name on some characters here
and there with a connective thread in mind, but it’s not a notion I followed up
on. Once the idea of a linked collection of stories was set aside, I just left
the names. Where I’m from a lot of people do have the same names, common names,
and so it seemed natural enough.
Jan: Second person point of view stories require a
delicate balancing act, because it’s easy to slip into a tone that accuses and
may cause readers to abandon a story. Although two of the stories in The Same
Terrible Storm, a flash fiction, “Lesson” and the longer work, “Place of Birth”
are written using a second person point of view, I admired your ability to
maintain a balance in both stories. Can you talk a bit about your decision to
use second person to tell these two stories.
Sheldon: When I was in a workshop with author and
editor Kirby Gann in Louisville, he made a comment about a second draft of a
couple pages of mine by saying I could well have split personalities. I knew it
to be a compliment. And, even if I had been confused, he went on to say I had
an ability to move in and out of voices well. Around this same time I came
across a collection of stories called Rest Area that were all written in second
person. I liked it, liked the idea of that voice and challenge, and wrote “Place
of Birth” while working at a hospital.
Jan: Let’s talk about your story, “Intruder” which
is a fascinating imagining of the final day of writer Breece D’J Pancake’s life
before his suicide. The style is different from other work in this collection.
In fact it is much more in Pancake’s style of writing. Given that your work
explores the same desolate landscapes, scraped raw by the coal mining industry,
it seems a sort of homage to Pancake. What’s the story behind the story of this
piece?
Sheldon:
A grand writer and grand friend of mine,
Jarrid Deaton, turned me on to Pancake at some point and I became increasingly
interested in this man’s life. At first it was just Pancake, the writer. But,
before long, it was Pancake, the man. The person.
I can’t deny that Ray Carver’s fine story "Errand" wasn’t
a large part of my beginning the story. It was a story Carver had written about
his favorite writer and Pancake was, and still is, my favorite writer.
Ego-mania? Possibly. Not that it was implied, but I wrote the story as tribute
to Pancake. The story came to me over the course of two days during a hard time
in my life, most of which I was drunk and didn’t care if the world just melted
away while I slept. If Chekhov is worthy of a story of tribute, then certainly
Pancake is the same, in my mind. I only hope this story reveals enough, seeks
enough, to at least bring more interest to this man’s work.
Jan: The young in these stories yearn to escape
the ruins of place, and yet their loyalty to the landscape and to family holds
them firmly, somewhat like butterflies fixed on a pin. In spite of terrible
odds there remains a dignity in your characters, even in the face of extreme
violence and poverty. Let’s talk about your experiences, your Kentucky roots.
How does that help you make those connections between your characters and your
readers?
Sheldon: I’ve lived most of these stories at one time
or another. That’s the connection. There’s no obscure tightening of the story
itself, only the basic questions of character, narrative, style. Everything
else has been laid bare for me. And that’s fine with me, and for whatever
stories there are to come.
We
all make sacrifices of life, faith, and love, hate. Mine are found in my
written word. I’ve never been a fan of confessional writing. Everything is
confessional writing, even popular fiction. It all tells a story about the
storyteller. I have eaten dinner after waiting for the nerve ticks to die in a
chicken’s brain. I have spent an evening in the dark of a living room dying,
wondering if my child was safe. I have seen the face of a coal miner, his eyes
rolled back, and seen him when sober at the next day’s work. And I found that
what I once thought was blind, [was] without insight. I have been down and from
that view comes these kinds of stories. There are millions of them, these
stories. Listen to anyone who is willing to share one.
Jan: If you were to describe your idea of the
perfect story, what elements would it have? And which story in your collections
comes closest to realizing the image that you had in your mind when you began
to write it?
Sheldon: A perfect story takes you out of this world
and into another. That has most very likely been said before, and should be
said another time and another. The means by which each writer gets there may
differ, of course. I have never set out to accomplish this, but I do write for
myself first, and others after that. I take myself back to those times, or
forward, depending on my mood. If there’s a story that takes me away into the
past, I allow it, and if there’s a story that boldly takes [me] into the
future, I follow. The story in the collection that most did that for me was “Purpose.”
I allowed myself to step aside for this story, to allow the characters I had
chosen to act it out, to speak freely and openly, and take whatever direction
they wanted. I followed. I rarely elevate these kinds of feelings and resulting
actions, but this is not the case for me in this story. I allowed Brown Bottle,
the main narrator, to take this story from my hands. He did well, and I thank
him, and trust him.
Jan: How did you connect to your publisher, Foxhead
Books, for your story collection, The Same Terrible Storm?
Sheldon: I’m not sure how many writers can say it, but
it I was contacted by Foxhead Books for a manuscript. I suppose many writers
can say that, but count me among them. Stephen “The Rock” Marlowe sent me a
note asking if I had a manuscript. Of course I did. Sometime later I had an
okay to move forward with the pages, which became The Same Terrible Storm. I
was blessed that Stephen had seen my work and sought me out to provide
something to Foxhead, where I’m as comfortable as a writer can be.
Jan: What are you working on now? And what do you
see yourself working on a year from now?
Sheldon: A year
from now, who knows? That’s the Buddhist in me, I guess. But I have submitted a
second collection of stories, titled at this time as When Alligators Sleep.
Day-to-day, I work on a novel titled forever and nevermore, as Brown Bottle. I
love Brown, but he keeps going places I never thought to give. There are briars
and tanglevines. He wants to go the hard way, and so I follow.
Jan: What were your favorite childhood books? Do
you still have them? Ever reread them?
Sheldon: My favorite books as a child were the Childhood of Famous Americans series
at my local library. My dad, good Lord rest his soul, took me there when I was
six or seven and I started checking out the whole series. I wanted to be a
football player, a botanist, a naval captain, all in the same summer, depending
on what book I was reading at the time. Pretty soon I settled on being a
writer. I wrote a couple stories, showing them to my dad, who said I had
potential. I was inspired.
I
started buying books by Stephen King and writing stories in the horror genre.
My dad was happy. When I was twelve, he made me throw all my collected books
into a creek near the house. But he gave me my start and for that I’m grateful.
Jan:
What are you reading now and what are you planning to read next?
Sheldon: I’m reading In the Devil’s Territory by Kyle Minor now and have Knockemstiff by Donald Pollack on my
shelf up next. I hope they both knock me out.
Jan: What book had the greatest impact on your
thinking and writing life?
Sheldon: Two books:
The Stories of Breece D’J Pancake by Breece D’J Pancake and Coming
Through Slaughter by Michael Ondaatje. The first showed me I could write about
my region without falling into sentiment, and the second showed me the wonders
of lyrical writing. I had a thought after reading these two books, the thought
being that perhaps I could write about where I’m from in a lyrical style
without falling short. We’re not all Mark Twain, I suppose. Some of us are part
Twain and part Dickens, and that’s all right by me.
Jan: Is there a book on writing that you’d
recommend to any aspiring writer?
Sheldon: Stephen King: On Writing. King places
storytelling in the foreground with this book, the first time I’ve seen that
done really well in a book about writing.
Jan: What is the most useful advice you’ve ever
received and what advice have you chosen to ignore?
Sheldon: The best writing advice I’ve received was
after I let my uncle read a short story I had written when I was twelve. An
accomplished Appalachian poet, my uncle took the mini-workshop seriously and
told me that a town the size of the town in my book (based on my hometown of
Virgie, Kentucky) may not be a town big enough to place an airport in. He
taught me, in that one comment, about the suspension of disbelief, and how you
can’t get by with certain things in fiction. Maybe in truth, but not in
fiction. I’ve rarely outright ignored advice, unless it was calculated. For
instance, if a fellow writer ever told me my subject matter was too this or
that. Fitzgerald said we all have one or two great themes, and mine has been
set in stone. If anyone or anything compromises my advancement of that theme, I’ll
set it aside.
Jan: Thank you for taking the time for this
interview. I look forward to reading more of your work.
Chris Helvey, Editor/Publisher of Trajectory said this about Sheldon Lee Compton. www.trajectoryjournal.com
Sheldon Lee Compton is one of the most
honest writers working today. He rips the truths of our lives out from their
hiding places and jams them in our faces. Below is a brief quote from one of
his stories from his new collection The Same Terrible Storm. We believe this
brief taste will leave you hunger for more from this fine young writer.
From Bent
Country excerpted from The Same Terrible Storm: I steadied myself on the
embankment. Below, down the hooknose incline of brush and gravel, ran the
tracks, glinting like a school of silver fish running in the moonlight to chase
the C&O. I stood carefully, leaned my head back so it was only me and
mother-fish moon in a blanket of black, and pissed loudly.
Sheldon Lee Compton lives in Eastern
Kentucky. His collection of short stories, The Same Terrible Storm, (2012) was
published by Foxhead Books. His work has appeared in numerous journals and been
nominated for several awards, as well as anthologized on many occasions. He is
a past founder and editor of three literary journals. To learn more, visit
bentcountry.blogspot.com.
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About Jan Bowman
Winner of the 2011 Roanoke Review Fiction Award, Jan's stories have been nominated
for Pushcart Prizes, Best American Short
Stories, and a Pen/O’Henry award. Glimmer Train named a recent
story as Honorable Mention in the November 2012 Short Story Awards for New
Writers. A recent story was a
finalist for the 2013 Broad
River Review RASH Award for Fiction,
another story was a 2013 finalist in the Phoebe Fiction Contest; another was a 2012 finalist in
the “So
To Speak” Fiction Contest. Jan’s fiction has appeared in numerous publications including, Roanoke Review,
Big Muddy, The Broadkill Review, Third Wednesday, Minimus, Buffalo Spree (97),
Folio, The Potomac Review, Musings, Potato Eyes and others. She is working on
two collections of short stories while shopping for a publisher for a completed
story collection, Mermaids & Other
Stories. She has nonfiction publications in Trajectory and Pen-in-Hand. She writes a weekly blog of “Reflections” on the writing life and posts regular interviews
with writers and publishers. Learn
more at: www.janbowmanwriter.com or visit
blog: http://janbowmanwriter.blogspot.com Facebook: janbowman.77@facebook.com
