EVENT POSTPONED
David James Poissant, author of Lake Life and The Heaven of Animals, is coming to the Key West Library, (time and date TBD). Monroe County Public Library’s Acting Director of Libraries Michael Nelson asked Poissant a few questions, offering up a little preview of the planned event.
Check the library’s website for updates.
Q: Your debut novel, Lake Life, brings a complicated family (The Starlings) together at a lake house in North Carolina for one last vacation before the place is sold. What compelled you to write about this particular family?
A: When I was young, my parents rented a house for one week every summer. The house was a lake house on the shores of Lake Toxaway in Transylvania County, North Carolina. When I was in my late teens or early twenties, my parents bought a converted double wide trailer on Lake Oconee, not far from Milledgeville, Georgia and Andalusia Farm where Flannery O’Connor lived. Because I’m a person who falls in love with places, I fell in love with both houses, both lakes. And because I’m a writer who loves writing place, I wanted to capture the essence of both places in a single story. For the novel, I moved the Lake Oconee house to Lake Toxaway, then renamed the place Lake Christopher. I had a place, then, but no novel. Then, at a fourth of July event on Lake Oconee in 2009 or 2010, I saw a small boy very nearly fall from the back of a speeding boat. The boat was moving fast, and it was a miracle that no one was killed. The boy looked too young to swim, he wore no lifejacket, and the person piloting the boat was likely drunk. Fortunately, authorities intervened. For weeks, though, I had nightmares. What would have happened had the boy fallen into the water? Could I have saved him? I’m a fairly strong swimmer, but this was at night, and who knows? These dreams and questions haunted me until I knew that I had the opening chapter of my novel Lake Life.
Q: You’ve lived and worked as a writer in Florida for many years and received a Florida Book Award for your 2014 collection of stories, The Heaven of Animals. What appeals to you about Florida’s literary scene? What makes it different from other places in the country?
A: Florida is wild. Growing up in Georgia, I thought of Florida the way most tourists see Florida: beaches and Disney. When the job offer at the University of Central Florida brought me to Orlando thirteen years ago, I wasn’t sure what I’d find. What I found was a vibrant, sophisticated literary community with numerous reading series and open mics, small presses and literary magazines, indie bookstores, and more writers than I would ever have expected. So many literary luminaries call the Sunshine State home. And I love the atmosphere. The vibe of Florida’s literary scene, as my students would say, is “chill.” If you’ve ever hung out with Kristen Arnett or Lauren Groff or Laura van den Berg, you know that these are not pretentious people. They’re brilliant writers, but they’re also good hangs. And I need that. I’m not particularly comfortable in a recliner with a tie on. I’d rather perch on a barstool in a t-shirt and argue about which Lydia Millet book is best. (Answer: There isn’t a bad Lydia Millet book!)
Q: You teach in the MFA Creative Writing program at the University of Central Florida in Orlando. What’s the best advice you give to new writers, or something you wished you knew when you started first writing?
A: Read. We can talk all day about craft, and I do. And we can talk about process, and I will. But the thing I find that students need most is more time to read. We’re all busy. We have families and jobs and classes, so time is a luxury, I know. But I strongly encourage them to carve as much time from devices, streaming platforms, and social media as they can manage. I encourage students to read at least a book a week beyond the books they read for class. I’m happiest at a rate of two books a week, in addition to the books I assign, student’s stories, and the dozens of submissions I read each week for The Florida Review, where I serve as Editor. To me, the math of fiction is pretty simple. If you want to be a writer, you need to read a lot of books. Every book is a toolbox. When you start reading like a writer, you see how many craft tools are at your disposal, which is why I encourage students and beginning writers to read widely from writers of diverse backgrounds and writing styles. Read things you wouldn’t think you’d like. Read as widely as you can. So much of learning arrives via this bookworm osmosis, and well read beginning writers make for the fastest learners.
Q: What are you reading and recommending these days?
A: I got a good bit of reading done this summer. I’ve been on a pandemic novel kick, and two reads that have stuck with me are The Vulnerables, by Sigrid Nunez and Touch, by Olaf Olafsson, both set during the Covid-19 pandemic. I heard that a great film version of Touch was just released, but I haven’t seen it yet. I’m a longtime fan of Tove Jansson’s Moominbooks, all of which I read to my daughters when they were younger. This summer I finally read one of her adult novels, The Summer Book, reissued in 2008 by NYRB Classics. It’s the sad, gorgeous, episodic story of a grandmother and granddaughter set over the course of a summer on an island in the Gulf of Finland. We forget that children know and feel and grieve more than we think, and this novel captures that fact, and childhood, beautifully. Other books that brightened my summer include Joshua Cohen’s The Netanyahus, Paula Fox’s Desperate Characters, Hiroko Oyamada’s The Factory, and Max Porter’s Shy.
Q: Can you tell us anything about future projects?
A: Sure! I’ve finished a second collection of short stories, tentatively titled Sons & Daughters. As with The Heaven of Animals, I don’t think that I consciously set out to pen a collection. It was more that I looked back over ten years of story publications and saw that I had produced dozens of new stories, most of which address questions of childhood and parenthood. For years, my fiction has grappled with the question of what it means to be a child or a parent. I like to think about what we owe each other, as family members, if anything. Familial bonds can save us, but they’re also frequently abused. And the tension between those extremes, that gray area between salvation and degradation, that’s what I’m interested in. Where some people find their identities in family, some can’t thrive until they’ve freed themselves from their family of origin. I’m interested in both of those characters. Each of their stories will resonate with different readers. To that end, I’m also hard at work on a novel, my first to be set in the great state of Florida, about a very large, very isolated family, and about the dangers of such isolation.