Plus: Mary Karr sings and dances, and much more.
Well, it's been a very eventful month here in Santa Cruz, and since I always bring my little black notebooks to all these events anyhow, I figured I'd share a few journal highlights with you.
Never, in all my years, did I think I'd get to see the great memoirist and poet Mary Karr shimmying, shaking her hair, stomping her boots and singing back-up vocals -- and in one case, lead vocals! -- with songwriting legend Rodney Crowell at the Rio Theatre right here in Santa Cruz.
In a couple of instances, I had to pinch myself to see if I was hallucinating. Was Mary Karr really up there on the stage, enthusiastically harmonizing to
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"It's Hard to Kiss the Lips at Night that Chew Your Ass Out All Day Long?" Karr, who must have very good genes -- she looked all of 23 years old -- did not seem to be the principle draw that night. I had a strong hunch that most folks were there for Crowell. The fact that Karr's last name was spelled incorrectly on almost all the promotional materials, except for the publicity put out by the co-sponsor, Bookshop Santa Cruz, suggests the concert organizers aren't familiar with her legendary work, including her classic, The Liar's Club. But Karr -- who teamed up with Crowell on a brand-new album called Kin, featuring an all-star group of performers -- proved she could 'kill' even with a crowd that, amazingly enough, seemed to have no idea who she was. Sad to say, I have temporarily misplaced the little black notebook with some of the funny, shocking, and all-too-true observations she made about family and memoir writing. I bet you it's under a pile of laundry somewhere, but when I find it, I'll go right back into this blog entry and fill in those details, so stay tuned. When I find the darned thing, I'll add an "updated" tagline to the subject heading.
Was the Capitola Book Cafe ever so packed as it was on June 21 when Cheryl Strayed was in town to promote Wild? She read from the Hobo Times reporter scene, which had the whole place howling. That evening she offered some insights about Wild's creation and why it resonates with so many readers.
Among some of the questions she answered from various readers that evening:
Have you always been 'all in' when it comes to revealing raw truths about yourself on the page?
"It's always terrifying. But writing that interests me reveals who (the writer) is with all their humanity. When you are taking those risks --and the endeavor of memoir is to tell a universal story -- when you do that right, other people see and hear themselves. Why should we read about this person's hike? The goal is to obliterate the question so people know why you're telling the story."
Are you surprised by the reception to the book?
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"I am stunned --completely shocked. The
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hike I had back in 1995
was this wholly private thing." (She had a similar feeling of solitude during the early composition process.) You’re profoundly alone with yourself. The only
way to write a book is to go to a place of deep solitude."
Later in the presentation, she answered questions about the PCT and the book's origins.
"The story in Wild
began when I reached what I really thought of as the bottom. I didn’t know
where I was going and there was so much I had to regret about where I’d been.
It was really sort of by chance that I chose the PCT. There was a blizzard and I
needed a shovel. It was only later on when I realized, 'hey, that’s metaphor.' I really needed to dig myself
out. (Upon buying the shovel, she happened upon a PCT guidebook.) “(The trail) seemed
so magnificent and incredible and big and everything I was not, everything I
needed to attach myself to. My mother went from being perfectly healthy to dead
in several weeks. I didn’t know how to be in the world without her. The
question realy was, how could I live without my mother. For a long time, my
answer was, I will not. I will do bad things. I raged against myself. Then I found out about the PCT.
"
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"I'd never gone backpacking one night, which turns out not to
be a good idea. I was a waitress. I had wads of cash. I spent it all on
backpacking stuff. The REI people kept saying, you really ought to pack your
pack. (Shortly before embarking on the journey), “I could not lift my pack. At all.
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Those first week weeks were
the most humbling experience of my life. I thought, “I can do this. I can walk. Then I got out there and I thought, what the *&$%$! was I thinking? And that was
within the first 15 minutes!”
The book signing line was humongous, but Strayed, in the spirit of a true PCT hiker, stayed until the last dog was hung.
