Thanks.
When you enter Alan Heathcock's world,
you might think at first you've landed
somewhere in the surreal landscape of the 6 o'clock
news.
Have a look around.
Borrow an object from one of his most poignant scenes--
a tin bottomed bass boat--
and step in gingerly.
Hold on tight to the gunnell, ease out
the choke, twist the throttle, yank the starter rope
on the outboard.
You're moving now through neighborhoods
filled to the eaves with dirty, electrified water.
Keep an eye on those tree branches
just underneath the surface.
Keep an eye on those shell-shocked faces.
In this particular world, what you hear
is the Biblical heartbeat that keeps the time
of the American heartland.
It's small towns.
It's rural nooks.
It is an endlessly revolving system of dualisms,
hard choices, and last chances.
Two men in their trucks will meet toe to toe
in a road each refusing to yield.
Another character, grieving for his son,
will give himself a mark of Cain.
And the policewoman, a peacekeeper,
will exact justice any way she can in her town
before it is all washed away.
During a flood, tenacious reporters
trudge through murky water up to their waist to tell the story.
But the characters in Mr. Heathcock's collection Volt,
published by Graywolf, are in up to their necks.
They are clever, conflicted souls making the most of what
they have-- money, time, options--
which is often very little.
They are stymied, sometimes on all sides,
by circumstances just barely beyond their reach.
And like any rural people worth their salt,
they bear their tragedies with dignity,
quiet, and sometimes remorse too.
That is their beauty.
Here's one passage that I love from the story "Fort Apache."
Lonnie and Walt rode in the truck bed
with the bowling balls.
And the back roads were pocked, and the balls
caromed against the sidewalls.
Walt and Lonnie laughed--
Or, Walt and Lonnie laughed warding them off
with their boot heels.
There is a frightening, painterly sort
of chaos in these stories, and Mr. Heathcock
has given his characters enough heart
to face it, even if they can't change it.
He's a writer for these populist, perilous times.
Oh, and see, I feel this way, but I can't be the only one.
VOLT was a Best Book of 2011's--
or, Best Book of 2011 selection by such publications
as GQ, Salon, and the Chicago Tribune.
It was also cited as a New York Times editors' choice,
and it was a finalist for the Barnes and Noble Discover
Prize.
Mr. Heathcock has also won the GLCA New Writers
Award, a national magazine award, and a Whiting Award,
just to name a few.
And has been an award of federal--
or has been awarded fellowships from the National Endowment
for the Arts, the Sewanee Writers'
Conference, and the Bread Loaf Writers Conference.
He's currently a literature fellow for the state of Idaho.
And he teaches fiction writing at Boise State University.
And if that doesn't keep him busy enough,
he has made time to come read for us tonight
at the Poetry Center.
It's a pleasure to have him here.
Please welcome Alan Heathcock.