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photo: Mallory Cash |
Daniel Wallace is the author of six novels. His first book, Big Fish, went on to become a movie and a Broadway musical. He lives in Chapel Hill and teaches in the creative writing program at the University of North Carolina. This Isn't Going to End Well (Algonquin) is a memoir in which Wallace tries to come to terms with the life and death of his multi-talented longtime friend and brother-in-law, who had been his biggest hero and inspiration.
Handsell readers your book in 25 words or less:
An unsolved murder and a mysterious suicide lead the author to explore the secret self of a man he thought he knew.
On your nightstand now:
The Slough House series by Mick Herron. Foster by Claire Keegan. In Touch magazine's "KARDASHIANS DESTROYED BY VANITY." The Ghost Writer by Philip Roth. Silver Alert by Lee Smith.
Favorite book when you were a child:
The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells. I have a memory of me reading this book in the back seat of a station wagon on the way to Ft. Walton Beach, Fla., a five-hour drive from Birmingham. The memory is in third person: I see myself reading it through the car windows as, pre-freeway, we rumble down the two-lane blacktop. I remember the book as being as long as any book ever written, but I found the 1969 edition and it's only 132 pages long. Most of the things I think I remember I'm pretty sure I've made up.
Your top five authors:
Always changing. I feel like there's a lovely old hotel where all of my favorite authors live; at any given time there's a different group of them in the dark-wood, high-ceilinged lobby, drinking tea. The group I see there now includes Claire Keegan, Miriam Toews, Lorrie Moore, Denis Johnson, and Randall Kenan.
Book you've faked reading:
So many! I was a precocious faker. At 12, I asked my mother for the collected works of Shakespeare's plays, Signet edition. A 12-year-old who's into Shakespeare the way I was into Shakespeare--the way I appeared to be into Shakespeare--is a rare thing, and I was celebrated for it. My older sister, Holly, would bring her friends into my room and point at the Shakespeare shelf. "My little brother is a genius," she would say, and I did not correct her. I did not break a spine on a single one.
Book you're an evangelist for:
The Dolphin People by Torsten Krol. It's about a family whose small plane crashes in the Amazon and is rescued by a tribe of Stone-Age Indians, who assume they are terrestrial incarnations of magical dolphins. I know, right? And who is Torsten Krol? A pseudonym, obviously. But no one seems to know.
Book you've bought for the cover:
Chip Kidd has made me buy even more books I have pretended to read.
Book you hid from your parents:
Kim by Rudyard Kipling. Long story, but from Christmas 1973 until his next to last Christmas in 1995, and birthdays, my father gave me a copy of Kim. It was his favorite book from his childhood, and he wanted to share that with me. But I wouldn't read it. No matter how many copies he gave me, I would take the book and hide it in the back of my closet or under my bed, hoping he'd forget. He never did, though, and I never did either. I have more editions of Kim now than you can imagine.
Book that changed your life:
It was a story, "A Perfect Day for Bananafish," by J.D. Salinger. My 11th-grade English teacher, Betty Caldwell, read that story aloud to us in class one day. She was an excellent reader and I was spellbound. How Salinger seemed to have remote control of my emotions--a story so funny and weird in the beginning, and then the very end of the story crushing me. I wanted to be able to do that to someone else. This is when I had the bright idea that I might want to be a writer.
Favorite line from a book:
" 'My, my. A body does get around. Here we ain't been coming from Alabama but two months, and now it's already Tennessee.' "
The last lines of Light in August by William Faulkner, spoken by Lena Grove. I love the way she faces her own life with such bright determination, and after all she's gone through--and after everything everyone in this book has gone through--she can still summon such optimism and hopefulness. I strive for that kind of hopefulness, even in the face of everything that argues against it.
Five books you'll never part with:
I'm at that time in my life when I'm giving away all my treasures, and that includes my books. There's nothing I like better than parting with books that I love.
Book you most want to read again for the first time:
The Collected Works of Shakespeare.
Book that made you go on a literary pilgrimage:
Even Cowgirls Get the Blues by Tom Robbins. This was in 1978, and the rock star of writing back then was indisputably Tom Robbins. My girlfriend and I, on a cross-country road trip, decided to track him down. Robbins was notoriously private, however, and his book jackets said only that he lived in a small town somewhere near Corvallis, Ore. We got to work, calling directory assistance of every town near Corvallis (lots of quarters) and finally found a Tom Robbins in one of them. But we didn't have an address. So, like a couple of goobers, we collared anyone we could and asked them if they knew where Tom Robbins the writer lived, and finally the check-out guy at the Safeway did. The house was hidden in a wooden lot not far from town. Mary and I had picked a bunch of blackberries that afternoon. Mary took the bag and knocked on the door, and after just a moment it opened. And it was him. "We picked these for you," Mary said. And he invited us in for dinner, just like that.