Q: Libraries are beloved for their sense of community. Do you remember a time when your library made you feel like a part of something bigger?
A: In middle school, I was one of the kids hanging out in the library at lunch, shuffling up a deck of magic cards. I had trouble in school, and that community of dorks and misfits got me through some tough years. In high school, I would walk to the local library after class and read in the back room. There are lines in The Sun Also Rises that bring me right back there. College, too, was defined by this experience of walking into the library, feeling like, I could learn anything today. And when I first came to Salt Lake, and lived downtown, the SLC library gave me a place to work, and access to a lot of books I couldn’t have afforded. The big, airy, spacious look of the place always evoked a wonderous feeling of excitement as I was walking in. So yes, most of the major eras of my life are defined, some way or other, by a library.
Q: What role did libraries have in your writing process, if any, for Crux?
A: We take the kids to our local library on weekends and always come back with a haul of children’s books. Trucks and trains figure prominently. There is a particular satisfaction to reading with little guys because you can see every expression succeeding across their tiny faces. That has been a hell of an education in storytelling. That experience, of reading to my kids, has changed almost everything in how I think about storytelling. That, and one of the guys I talk to most about my writing is a local librarian. So two ways, I guess.
Q: Both Crux and your last novel, My Absolute Darling, feature teenage characters. What draws you to write about characters during this time of life?
A: Okay, so full disclosure––I set out to write a novel about people in their mid-twenties, but first, I thought it necessary to make a few introductory remarks about their childhoods. From there, things just got out of hand. That’s how it was with MAD––I wanted to write a novel about this guy, and he had this sort-of-girlfriend, and her home situation wasn’t great, so I thought I had better rough that in for the reader, and all of a sudden: that’s the book. I’ll going to try to stay a little more disciplined next time, and we’ll add some diversity to this roster.
Q: Nature reads almost as its own character in Crux. What inspired you to incorporate the natural world as such a strong element of the story?
A: That one’s easy. I just can’t help myself. Everybody else is racking up for a climb and I’m buried in the weeds on the side of the trail trying to identify some stock of grass. I’ve had to buy three copies of Woody Plants of Utah because I keep wearing them out. When you’re not looking, it’s as if it isn’t there, but as soon as you start looking, it’s too lovely almost to handle. Also, I think a life without interest in things outside ourselves is lonely.
Q: What’s something you hope readers will take away from Crux?
A: I mean, I think we can get to thinking that when something is hard––sobriety, marriage, parenthood, your novel, your career, your dreams, walking down that NICU hallway to see your child––that it’s maybe something you need to run away from. There can be a lot of hard, dark, despairing moments in a life, and an attendant idea that life isn’t supposed to be hard. But you can do hard things the way that tyrannosaurus rex did Jeff Goldblum in the rain, and joy and humor are some of the tools that will get you there. But look, all that is subtext; the book is really intended as a rollick, and I hope readers will take away a feeling of joy, excitement, and sleep deprivation.
Q: Do you have a favorite library memory? Either from writing Crux, or just browsing the shelves?
A: I met my wife, Hattie, at our library at Willamette. She was studying at a table all alone, and I asked if I could share the table with her. We went out for hot chocolate afterwards and it turned into a date. Now we have three children, so that situation really escalated.
Q: If you could say one thing to librarians right now, what would it be?
A: Don’t let the bastards grind you down.
