"Twilight of the Drifter" is a crime story with southern
gothic overtones. It centers on thirty-something Josh Devlin, a failed
journalist who, after a year of wandering, winds up in a Kentucky homeless
shelter on a wintry December. Soon after the opening setup, the crosscurrents
go into motion as Josh comes upon a runaway named Alice holed up in an
abandoned boxcar. Taken with her plight and dejected over his own squandered
life, he spirits her back to Memphis and his uncle's Blues Hall Cafe. From
there he tries to get back on his feet while seeking a solution to Alice's
troubles. As the story unfolds, a Delta bluesman's checkered past comes into
play and, inevitably, Josh finds himself on a collision course with a backwoods
tracker fixated on the Civil War and, by extension, the machinations of the
governor-elect of Mississippi. In a sense, this tale hinges on the vagaries of
chance and human nature. At the same time, an underlying force appears to be
driving the action as though seeking the truth and long awaited redemption. Or,
to put it another way, past sins have finally come due in the present.
Get your copy at Amazon.
An interview with the author.
Tell us a little about yourself.
Among other things, I’m a professor
emeritus of dramatic arts at The University of Connecticut and a former actor
in New York.
Did you plan to be a writer or did
it just happen?
Some time ago I created a series of
cliffhangers for my friends in study hall back in the eighth grade in Miami. I
can’t really tell you why except for the fact that no one ever did any studying
there and everyone was open for something to engage their attention. Then
again, I’ve always been a storyteller and daydreamer, especially given the fact
that since I was a little kid I found myself mostly on my own, reading comic
books, wandering around, trying to come to terms with the world.
Later on, in my freshman year at The
University of Miami on a music scholarship, both the concertmaster and master
teacher told me that playing the violin was not my true calling. They would
rather listen to my stories in lieu of dealing with my violin technique which I
finally realized was more or less limited.
What has been your greatest
challenge as a writer? Have you been able to overcome it?
On my first attempt, trying to cram
in as much as possible to indicate there’s really a lot going on here,
Scott Meredith, the noted New York agent, told me you can’t do that. No reader
could possibly take it all in. Later on, taking in the advice of the late
novelist and college instructor John Gardner, I learned you should think of
novel writing as carefully feeding a hammer mill. At the same time, a popular
author wrote a guide revealing his secret: you spring forward, fall back and
gradually let the reader in on what’s going on. In Bird by Bird, Anne
Lamott claims you should keep going willy-nilly till the very end. Accept the
fact you’re going to wind up with a lousy first draft that you can later fix.
One best selling writer believes it’s like taking a car trip in the dark: using
the headlights, knowing more or less where you’re headed but allowing yourself
to turn off at any time to explore what’s out there.
In a nutshell, my greatest challenge
has been to forge my own process and distinctive style.
What inspired the idea behind your
book?
I had no idea I was going to write a
novel about a drifter. As it happens, friends invited us down to a cabin they’d
inherited in the backwoods of the hill country of Mississippi that dated back
to the time of the Civil War. When Bob (the husband) and I took a walk and came
upon a meandering creek strewn with fallen jagged limbs, something began to
percolate.
Soon after, material kept coming to
me while spending time in Memphis, Oxford and partway into the Delta. Becoming
more and more curious, I began interviewing people like Larry Wells who ran the
Faulkner Press and then moved on to chat with a noted blues expert at Ole Miss.
This led to a lot of reading about the Civil War and the Civil Rights Movement
and its aftermath in Mississippi, what it’s like to hop a freight, belief in
angels, and the lives of bluesmen. From that point I segued to listening to
blues recordings, delving into Mississippi politics and all kinds of things
including learning what it would be like to drift from Dayton, Ohio to the Deep
South. Needless to say, by this stage a compelling through-line took shape and
continued to unfold.
Do you have a favorite character in Twilight
of the Drifter? Who and why?
That, of course, is like asking,
Who’s your favorite child? But I am quite taken with Alice. Some reviewer
recently found her to be a cross between Holden Caulfield in Catcher in the
Rye and Mattie Ross in True Grit. All I know is that she’s
barely fourteen, a runaway, has had a dreadful upbringing which amounts to no
upbringing at all, and is a survivor. As a result, I never knew exactly what
she was going to say or do, loved her cocky façade and hidden vulnerability,
and was willing to follow her anywhere.
Without giving it all away, please
tell us a little something about how Josh is going to get through his biggest
challenge.
He’s reached the point where he can
no longer live with his squandered life. After becoming intrigued with Alice’s
mysterious plight and discovering she may be in mortal danger, there is no way
he can turn his back on her come what may.
What message do you hope readers
take away from the book?
I hope readers will ponder over the
road not taken. That there may very well be a “lonesome valley” or a calling,
or some irrepressible need to dive into the past. In undertaking this odyssey I
had no idea that underneath it all there was some mysterious pull that was
leading me on.
Do you share any personality traits
with Josh Devlin?
I’m sure that just like Josh I’ve
tried to avoid any dicey situation and played it safe. Moreover, a Hollywood
agent recent wrote that my main characters are basically nice guys and nice
guys aren’t trending. In fact, nice guys went out with the boy next door and
old movies of the forties and fifties. So I guess I’m also a little
old-fashioned and don’t fit in with the prevalent irony and cynicism of today.
What has been your greatest pleasure
in writing this book?
The deepening experiences. As
though, for instance, a sense of place itself was harboring secrets and hinting
at things—e.g, when I slipped inside an old blues joint on Beale Street in
Memphis, skirted the backwoods around Ashland, crossed over into the flatlands
of the Delta and drove past an abandoned cotton gin, or even when I had dinner
with my wife at a little restaurant in Oxford and couldn’t help overhearing
reminiscences about Aunt Bea swapping tales on the gallery (which I learned
meant veranda). It seemed the more I observed, the more enriched the tale
became. Not at all just another mystery. Or crime thriller. Or any other easy
label.
What do you have in store next for
your readers?
Tinseltown Riff, a Hollywood escapade, is scheduled
to be released some time this Spring. It’s a story that straddles the line
between illusion and reality, fantasy and danger as it delves into the loopiest
business on earth. An L.A. film agent recently wrote that even though she loves
the milieu and the dynamics, Ben, my desperate hack screenwriter is basically a
nice guy and nice guys aren’t trending right now. My publisher doesn’t agree.
Hopefully readers will side with my publisher.
What appeals to you most about your
chosen genre?
As a reader, I found I
could readily identify with a character’s plight as long as there was something
vital at stake. In due course, someone’s world had been turned upside down and
impending trouble was just ahead. By the same token, the only possible venue
for me had to have at least a touch of danger. It can’t just be about
relationships. It can’t just be another day. More often than not, I seem to be
drawn to an irrepressible urge to right a great wrong.
What is the best piece of writing
advice you’ve received?
I didn’t receive this directly and
it may not be the best piece of advice but, nevertheless, it seems to hold
true. A creative writing instructor at a noted Midwest college used to advise
his students not to write. To put the notion aside. If and when there’s a
haunting image, cherished assumption that no longer holds true or some unknown
secret that keeps prodding you and won’t let go, then you’re probably ready to
begin.
Do you have any interesting writing
quirks?
Readers tell me that reading my
novels is like watching a movie. I suppose that’s because I’ve always been a
movie buff, have written a book on screenwriting and also write movie
reviews. I can’t seem to let go of a draft until it has a certain visual flow
and rhythm—a long establishing shot, perhaps, zooming in on an intimate scene
followed by a tracking shot as the action picks up, crests and subsides . . .
Not that I’m actually fully conscious of this but am very aware when scenes go
on too long or aren’t fully developed, characters say or do things that aren’t
consistent, this beat doesn’t really belong and is really there for its own
sake, the dialogue here isn’t crisp enough—we need to get in and out and just
add a pointer that will move us ahead . . . It probably goes back to those
early days when I would go to some favorite movie palace, sit in the dark and
get totally transported.
From Twilight of the Drifter
Wolf
Creek was silent again, shrouded and hidden away in the fading early December
light.
Then the cracking sound of wood as the old hunter’s blind gave way somewhere in
the near distance, a sudden scream and a muffled thud. The cracking sound was
not nearly as sharp as the first gunshot or the second, the scream not at all
as piercing as the first cry or as grating as the moans that followed and
faded.
The coonhound took off immediately, ignoring the touch of frost in the creek
water, the obstacle course of fallen tree limbs and bare forked branches, the
muddy slope and the snare and tangle of vines and whip-like saplings. Within
seconds, the hound was bounding higher until he came upon a prone scrawny
figure totally unlike the one that had just fallen on the opposite
bank.
Sniffing around, barking and howling, the hound snapped at the flimsy jacket
and bit into it. As the scrawny little figure began to stir, he tore into
the sleeve, ripping it to shreds and barked and howled again, turning back for
instructions. The sight of the skinny flailing arms sent the coonhound back on
its haunches—half guarding, half confused as it turned around yet again, looking
down the slope to the creek bed, still waiting for a signal.
Presently, a tall, rangy man made his way across the same obstacle course,
long-handled shovel in hand. But he was only in time to catch sight of a girl
clutching her head, staggering away from the scene through the tangles and
deepening shadows. Then again, it could’ve been a boy for all he knew, but he
settled on a girl, a flat-chested tomboy, more like. Casting his gaze up to the
snapped rungs of the tree-ladder, he spotted the broken edge of the rotting
hunters blind some eight feet above where she could’ve seen everything.
The coonhound began circling around him, displaying the shards of material
dangling from his jaw. Instinctively, the man rushed forward. Then he
thought better of it as his overalls got snagged in the brambles. From the look
of things, the girl was probably dazed and confused and wouldn’t get as far as
the dirt drive, if that.
Wrong guess. The slam of a hood as the flat-bed’s worn V-8 motor fired-up, the
grinding of gears and the familiar whine and squeal of tires signaled the
tomboy was away and well out of reach.
Meet the Author
Shelly Frome is a member of Mystery Writers of
America, a professor of dramatic arts emeritus at the University of
Connecticut, a former professional actor, a writer of mysteries, books on
theater and film, and articles on the performing arts appearing in a number of periodicals
in the U.S. and the U.K. He is also a film critic and a contributor to writers’
blogs. His fiction includes Lilac Moon, Sun Dance for Andy Horn, Tinseltown
Riff and the trans-Atlantic cozy The Twinning Murders. Among his works of
non-fiction are the acclaimed The Actors Studio and texts on the art and craft
of screenwriting and writing for the stage.
Twilight of the Drifter, his latest novel, is a southern gothic
crime-and-blues odyssey.
Great interview! :)
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for hosting Shelly today :)
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