Andre Dubus 1-19-05 Transcript

Our Common Text 2004-2005

ROUGHLY EDITED COPY

ROCHESTER INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY

JANUARY 19, 2005 .

COMMON TEXT SERIES.

PRESENTER: ANDRE DUBUS III, AUTHOR, HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG

********

This text is being provided in a rough draft format. Communication Access Realtime Translation (CART) is provided in order to facilitate communication accessibility and may not be a totally verbatim record of the proceedings.

********

>> Elena: GOOD EVENING.

YOU GUYS CAN HEAR ME?

YES?

OKAY.

MY NAME IS ELENA SOMMERS.

I'M A MEMBER OF THE COMMON

NOVEL COMMITTEE AND THE

DEPARTMENT OF LANGUAGE AND

LITERATURE.

IT IS MY MEASURE TO WELCOME

YOU TODAY TO THE COMMON NOVEL

LECTURE WITH ANDRE DUBUS III.

LET ME TELL YOU A COUPLE WORDS

ABOUT A COMMON NOVEL TRADITION

THAT YOU MIGHT NOT BE AWARE

OF, ALTHOUGH YOU ARE

PARTICIPATING IN IT.

COMMON NOVEL IS A 22-YEAR

TRADITION AT THE DEPARTMENT OF

LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE AT

RIT, AND WHAT WE DO IS EVERY

YEAR WE CHOOSE AN EXCITING AND

INTELLECTUALLY CHALLENGING

NOVEL FOR ALL OF THE FRESHMEN

STUDENT BODY TO READ.

AND THEN WE INVITE THE AUTHOR

TO COME OVER AND SPEAK WITH

YOU GUYS AND ANSWER YOUR

QUESTIONS, AND THIS YEAR WE'RE

PARTICULARLY FORTUNATE BECAUSE

ANDRE DUBUS III SAID YES, AND

HE'S WITH US HERE TODAY.

ANDRE DUBUS III IS THE AUTHOR

OF A CHECKS OF SHORT FICTION,

"THE CAGE KEEPER AND OTHER

STORIES."

HE'S THE AUTHOR OF THE NOVELS

"BLUES MAN" AND OBVIOUSLY "THE

HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG."

HIS WORKS HAVE BEEN INCLUDED

IN THE BEST AMERICAN ESSAYS OF

1994, THE BEST ORIGINAL

WRITING OF 1999 AND THE BEST

OF REQUESTING HOPE" MAGAZINE.

HE HAS BEEN AWARDED A

GUGGENHEIM FELLOWSHIP, THE

NATIONAL MAGAZINE AWARD FOR

FICTION, THE PUSHCART PRIZE,

AND ONE OF THE FINALISTS FOR

THE ROME PRIZE FROM THE

ACADEMY OF ARTS AND LETTERS.

THE "HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG,"

AS WE KNOW, IS NOW A MAJOR

MOTION PICTURE, STARRING BEN

KINGSLEY AND JENNIFER

CONNELLY.

THE BOOK IS NOW PUBLISHED IN

25 COUNTRIES.

THE NOVEL, "THE HOUSE OF SAND

AND FOG" WAS A FICTION

FINALIST FOR THE NATIONAL BOOK

AWARD, THE LOS ANGELES TIMES

BOOK PRIZE, THE LL WINSHIP/PEN

NEW ENGLAND AWARD, BOOK SENSE

BOOK OF THE YEAR.

IT WAS AN OPRAH BOOK CLUB

SELECTION AND A NUMBER ONE NEW

YORK TIMES BEST SELLER.

ANDRE DUBUS III IS A MEMBER OF

PEN AMERICAN CENTER IS AND THE

EXECUTIVE BOARD OF PEN NEW

ENGLAND.

HE HAS SERVED AS A PANELIST

FOR THE NATIONAL ENDOWMENT FOR

THE ARTS, HAS TAUGHT WRITING

IN HARVARD UNIVERSITY, TUFTS

UNIVERSITY AND THE UNIVERSITY

OF MASSACHUSETTS AT LOWELL AND

EMERSON COLLEGE.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I'M SURE

YOU ALL LOOK FORWARD TO

HEARING FROM ANDRE DUBUS III.

PLEASE HELP ME WELCOME HIM TO

THE STAGE.

(Applause)

>> Andre: THANK YOU, ELENA.

THANK YOU ALL FOR BEING HERE

ON THIS SNOWY NIGHT.

I WAS HERE LAST OCTOBER AT

REALLY JUST A LOVELY TIME,

ALTHOUGH I THINK I WAS ONE OF

THREE RED SOX FANS IN THE

ROOM, AND THAT WAS THE NIGHT

IT ALL BEGAN FOR US.

RED SOX!

SORRY.

I'D LIKE TO BEGIN SPEAKING

ABOUT, AHEM-- I'M INTERESTED

IN TALKING ABOUT "HOUSE OF

SAND AND FOG."

I KNOW YOU'VE READ THAT BOOK,

BUT I'D LIKE TO START TALKING

ABOUT IT IN A SLIGHTLY

SIDEWAYS DIRECTION.

I RECENTLY WROTE AN ARTICLE

FOR " BOSTON" MAGAZINE ABOUT A

SOLDIER RETURNING FROM IRAQ.

SHE'S A WOMAN FROM THE 94th

M.P. COMPANY, AND I'D LIKE TO

READ ABOUT A 15-MINUTE EXCERPT

AND THEN TALK A LITTLE BIT

ABOUT THE WRITING PROCESS AND

HOW IT SCARES THE HELL OUT OF

ME EVEN NOW, AFTER 20-SOME-ODD

YEARS OF DOING IT DAILY.

SO I'M GOING TO READ THIS

BRIEF EXCERPT AND THEN WE CAN

TALK MORE.

BUT HONESTLY, YOU GUYS, MY

FAVORITE PART OF SPEAKING IN

PUBLIC IS REALLY THE QUESTION

AND ANSWER TIME AFTERWARDS

WHERE WE REALLY HAVE MORE OF A

CONVERSATION.

SO DON'T BE AFRAID TO, YOU

KNOW, BE HONEST.

SAY WHAT YOU REALLY THINK

ABOUT MY WRITING.

(Chuckling)

I CAN TAKE IT.

ALL RIGHT?

SO LET'S TALK AFTERWARDS.

"THUNDER SCARES HER.

IT NEVER DID BEFORE, BUT IT

DOES NOW.

A FEW DAYS AGO IT RAINED, AND

WHEN THE THUNDER CLAPPED, SHE

ALMOST DIVES UNDER THE BAR IN

HER APARTMENT.

SHE TOLD HERSELF, IT'S JUST

THUNDER.

SHE TOLD HERSELF SHE'S HERE IN

SOUTH WEYMOUTH, HER ARMY PAY

IN THE BANK, WAITING FOR

CLASSES TO START AGAIN.

BUT EVEN IF SHE HAD DIVED

UNDER THE BAR, IT WOULD HAVE

HURT.

HER SHINS AND KNEES HAVE BEEN

INJURED SINCE BASIC, AND THE

WAR MADE THEM WORSE.

THE WAR MADE A LOT OF THINGS

WORSE.

HER NAME'S JOANNE, BUT

EVERYBODY CALLS HER JOEY.

SHE HAS DEEP GREEN EYES AND

BLONDE HAIR AND A STEADY WAY

OF LOOKING AT YOU, LIKE SHE'S

WEIGHING WHETHER OR NOT YOU'RE

FRIEND OR FOE.

SHE'S SHORT AND MUSCLED AND

WOULD BE GETTING READY FOR

SKIING SEASON NOW IF IT

WEREN'T FOR HER LEGS.

SHE ADMITS SHE'S A LITTLE

JUMPY THESE DAYS AND SOMETIMES

SHORT-TEMPERED, ON EDGE.

IT WAS HOT OVER THERE, OFTEN

AS HIGH AS 150 DEGREES, AND IT

STUNK, TOO.

SHE CAN'T GET THE SMELL OUT OF

HER NOSE, ALL THE DEAD ANIMALS

BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD, THE

ROTTED DOGS AND BLOATED COWS,

THE BLACKENED SHEEP AND

FESTERING DONKEYS.

THERE WERE TRASH HEAP FIRES

AND RAW SEWAGE IN THE STREETS.

THERE WAS THE EXHAUST FROM THE

BACKS OF TANKS THAT MADE YOU

LIGHT-HEADED, AND NOBODY COULD

WASH, AND WHEN YOU CAME BACK

FROM PATROL, YOUR DESERT

CAMELS WERE WHITE WITH SALT

FROM YOUR OWN SWEAT.

IN CAMP, YOU WALKED OUT ON THE

SAND AND SQUATTED.

SOMETIMES YOU DUG A HOLE AND

BURIED IT.

YOU CONSTANTLY ITCHED FROM

SAND FLIES AND FLEAS.

AND OF COURSE THERE WERE THE

DEAD PEOPLE, A LOT OF DEAD

PEOPLE.

IN FRONT OF HER APARTMENT

BUILDING IS A YOUNG TREE WITH

A WIDE YELLOW RIBBON TIED

AROUND ITS TRUNK, AN AMERICAN

FLAG HANGS NEAR HER WINDOW.

HER LANDLORD HAS A SON

FIGHTING IN IRAQ, AND WHEN SHE

TOLD HIM SHE WAS A VETERAN, HE

PUT UP THE RIBBON AND FLAG AS

CLOSE TO HER APARTMENT AS HE

COULD.

INSIDE, SHE WRITES SONGS AND

POEMS.

SHE ALSO PLAYS THE TRUMPET AND

IS TEACHING HERSELF HOW TO

PLAY HER NEW ELECTRIC GUITAR.

WHEN SHE WAS 14, SHE TRAVELED

TO WASHINGTON D.C. WITH THE

SCHOOL BAND AND PLAYED HER

TRUMPET ON THE STEPS OF THE

U.S. CAPITAL.

WHAT DID SHE PLAY?

I DON'T KNOW.

MY MEMORY'S KIND OF MESSED UP.

BITS AND PIECES.

YOU CAN SEE IT IN HER POETRY.

HERE'S THE LAST PART OF ONE

SHE WROTE SINCE RETURNING

HOME.

THUNDER BOOMING, LIGHTNING

FLASHING, GROUND SHAKING,

BOMBS FRAGMENTING, LACERATIONS

BLEEDING, SOLDIERS CRYING,

FRIENDS DYING; CORRUPTIBILITY,

INFINITE, LIBERATE PEACE.

WHY CORRUPTIBILITY?

BUSH, I HATE HIM.

A LOT OF SOLDIERS DO.

YOU'RE OVER THERE WONDERING

WHAT YOU'RE DOING.

I MEAN WHY ARE WE HERE?

YOU DON'T KNOW WHY?

NEGATIVE, GHOST WRITER.

ON JOEY'S COFFEE TABLE IS ONE

BOOK, "POETS AGAINST THE WAR."

SEE, WE SHOULDN'T BE THERE.

AFGHANISTAN MAYBE BUT NOT

THERE.

IT'S A POORLY PLANNED,

IRRATIONAL MISSION AND WE WENT

IN TOO HASTY, NOT ENOUGH

INTEL.

DO YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT WAR'S

LIKE?"

I SHOULD WARN YOU THERE'S SOME

REALLY GRAPHIC IMAGERY COMING

UP WITH CHILDREN.

I JUST DON'T WANT TO SUCKER

PUNCH YOU WITH THAT.

IT'S COMING UP.

"SHE WALKS INTO HER BEDROOM.

HER COMPUTER IS IN HERE ACROSS

FROM HER ELECTRIC GUITAR, AMP

AND MIC.

SHE OPENS THE FILE OF COLOR

PHOTOGRAPHS.

MANY OF THEM ARE OF DEAD

IRAQIS OR PARTS OF THEM.

ONE SHOWS A MAN'S SEVERED CALF

AND BARE FOOT LYING IN THE

STREET.

ANOTHER IS A CLOSE-UP OF A

YOUNG MAN'S HEAD.

IT'S HALF GONE AND HIS FACE IS

SUNK IN BLOOD, BITS OF BRAIN

AND SKULL.

THAT POOR FOOL BLEW HIMSELF UP

TRYING TO BLOW US UP.

A TEENAGER LIES ON HIS BACK,

HIS EYES IN THE SKY ABOVE, HIS

ARMS SPREAD WIDE.

HIS T-SHIRT IS WET WITH BLOOD

AND TORN WITH AT LEAST A DOZEN

BULLET HOLES.

THAT ONE WOULDN'T DIE.

WE THINK HE WAS ON SOMETHING.

THERE'S AN IMAGE OF AN IRAQI

MAN LYING DEAD ON A HIGHWAY

OVERPASS.

THERE ARE DARK OPENINGS IN HIS

FACE AND CHEST.

HE HAS A BEARD AND HIS EYES

AREN'T FULLY CLOSED.

AN AMERICAN SOLDIER STANDS

OVER HIM WITH HIS M16, SMILING

INTO THE CAMERA.

AND THERE ARE PICTURES OF

CHILDREN.

WHEN SHE CLICKS ONTO THESE,

SHE GOES STILL IN HER CHAIR

AND SAYS NOTHING.

A NAKED 7 OR 8-YEAR-OLD BOY

LIES DEAD ON A TABLE, HIS

SMALL CHEST AND FACE YELLOW,

HIS MOUTH OPEN.

ANOTHER BOY ALIVE IS STRETCHED

OUT ON ANOTHER TABLE, HIS LEGS

PEPPERED WITH BLACK SHRAPNEL

WOUNDS AND THERE'S A LARGE ONE

IN HIS STOMACH, HIS INTESTINE

POKING THROUGH.

THERE ARE MORTARED AND SHOT

CHILDREN.

THERE ARE THE BLIND AND

CRIPPLED AND MAIMED.

ONE GIRL LIES ON HER SIDE, HER

BARE TORSO UNMARKED, HER LEGS

AND FEET INTACT, BUT HER FACE

IS A MELTED MASK OF RED AND

PURPLE BURNS.

HER MOTHER, DRESSED IN BLACK,

HER HEAD COVERED, SITS BESIDE

HER AND SQUEEZES HER HAND.

YOU DON'T SEE THIS ON THE

NEWS, JOEY SAYS."

I'M GOING TO SKIP AHEAD A

LITTLE BIT.

I SHOULD JUST TELL YOU THAT

SHE JOINED THE ARMY AFTER

SEPTEMBER 11th AND WAS IN THE

RESERVES AND QUICKLY FOUND

HERSELF IN COMBAT, WHERE HER

RESERVE COMPANY, WHICH WAS

SUPPOSED TO JUST DO A BRIEF

STINT WAS EXTENDED FOUR TIMES

AND SHE WAS IN ACTIVE DUTY FOR

15 MONTHS.

"IT WAS EARLY IN THE MORNING,

THE SUN STILL LOW OVER THE

DESERT, BUT ALREADY OVER 110

DEGREES.

FOR TWO WEEKS SHE HAD BEEN AT

CAMP VIRGINIA IN KUWAIT

UNLOADING METAL CONTAINERS

FULL OF SLEEPING BAGS, COTS,

TENTS, TRUCK MOUNTS FOR THE

MK-19 GRENADE LAUNCHER AND HER

FAVORITE, THE M249, OTHERWISE

KNOWN AS A SQUAD AUTOMATIC

WEAPON OR SAW.

IT WAS 16-AND-A-HALF POUNDS

UNLOADED, 22 LOADED, AND EVEN

THOUGH IT WAS HEAVIER, SHE

PRESERVED IT TO THE M16, FELT

SAFER WITH IT IN HER HUMVEE.

THREE SOLDIERS WERE ASSIGNED

TO EACH ONE, A DRIVER, A

TURRET, GUNNER AND A TEAM

LEADER.

SHE WAS A DRIVER.

HER HUMVEE WAS UNARMORED, AND

NEITHER SHE NOR HER TEAM

LEADER NOR GUNNER WORE

BULLETPROOF INTERCEPTORS, JUST

FLAK VESTS, GOOD ONLY FOR

SLOWING A GRENADE FRAGMENT,

NOT A BULLET.

THAT'S WHY MY FRIEND MICHELLE

DIED, JOEY SAYS.

NOT ENOUGH ARMOR ON HER

HUMVEE.

THAT MORNING, DRESSED IN HER

DESERT CAMOS, HER HAIR TUCKED

UP UNDER HER KEVLAR HELMET,

SHE WAS PART OF A GROUP OF

FOUR PLATOONS MOVING OUT TO

IRAQ FOR THE FIRST TIME.

50 OR 60 TRUCKS AND TRAILERS.

IT WAS A CLEAR DAY, AND AS

THEY CROSSED THE IRAQI BORDER,

SHE SAW A LITTLE BOY WITH

BLACK HAIR AND DARK EYES,

BAREFOOT IN SHORTS AND A

T-SHIRT, WAVING A SMALL

AMERICAN FLAG.

SHE SMILED AND WAVED BACK AT

HIM.

JOEY WAS ATTACHED TO THE THIRD

ARMORED CALVARY REGIMENT ON A

SYRIAN BORDER IN THE AL QAIM

REGION.

HER JOB WAS TO SEARCH FOR AND

BRING IN BA'ATHIST LOYALIST

AND SHE SPENT HER DAYS AND

NIGHTS ON PATROLS AND RAIDS.

SHE'D DRIVE FAST DOWN THE

NARROW EARTHEN STREETS AND

PULL RIGHT UP TO HER FRONT

STOOP, M16s LOCKED AND LOADED.

TEAMS OF SIX WOULD KICK DOWN

THE DOORS AND CLEAR THE HOUSE

FROM BOTTOM TO TOP.

JOEY LIKED THE ACTION OF

RAIDS, BUT SHE DIDN'T LIKE

WHEN THE KIDS CRIED OR THE

WOMEN, AND WHEN THEY FOUND A

MAN, ANY MAN, ANY AGE, SHE

DIDN'T LIKE HOW THEY HAD TO

DUCT TAPE HIS EYES OR PUT AN

EMPTY SANDBAG OVER HIS HEAD

BEFORE TRANSPORTING HIM BACK

TO CAMP FOR INTERROGATION.

WHY?

I DON'T KNOW.

IT IS IT DEHUMANIZED THEM.

I LET THE GUYS DO IT.

IT WAS PAST MIDNIGHT, AND SHE

HAD BEEN BEHIND THE WHEEL MORE

THAN 36 HOURS.

HER EYES BURNED AND HER HELMET

FELT HEAVY ON HER HEAD.

INTEL FROM THE FOURTH INFANTRY

DIVISION AND TASK FORCE 20

TOLD THEM SADDAM HUSSEIN WAS

RACING FOR THE BORDER TOWN OF

QUSAYBAH IN SYRIA WITH HIS

ENTOURAGE AND TWO S.U.V.s AND

A MERCEDES SEDAN.

HERS WAS THE THIRD TRUCK IN.

HUSSEIN'S CONVOY, NOT FAR

AHEAD.

ABOVE HER STREAKED AMERICAN

JETS, STRIKING THE IRAQI CARS

WITH LARGE CALIBRE MACHINE-GUN

FIRE.

THEN THEY SHOT SOMETHING

BIGGER, AND THE CONVOY ERUPTED

INTO ORANGE FLAME AND BLACK

SMOKE.

THE CAV BOYS CONTINUED TO HEAD

INTO THE ACTION, BUT THEY MADE

HER STAY BACK IN HER HUMVEE.

"WHY?"

"BECAUSE I'M A GIRL."

ACROSS THE FLAT DESERT THE

S.U.V.s AND MERCEDES BURNED.

A FEW BUILDINGS, TOO.

SOME SYRIAN BORDER GUARDS HAD

BEEN INJURED.

MID-MORNING THE NEXT DAY, SHE

PUT THE HUMVEE IN GEAR AND

DROVE INTO TOWN.

TASK FORCE 20 WAS GONE AND THE

THREE CARS WERE BLACKENED

SHELLS.

"WHO WAS IN THEM?"

"I DON'T KNOW.

CIVILIANS, RANDOM PEOPLE.

DEAD NOW."

OFF TO HER LEFT WAS THE

SMOKING DEBRIS OF WHAT USED TO

BE A BEDOUIN SETTLEMENT.

THERE WERE DEAD SHEEP AND

CHICKENS, AND A MAN'S BODY WAS

LYING ON THE GROUND.

FLIES FLEW OUT OF HIS MOUTH.

HIS HANDS WERE CLENCHED IN

LOOSE FISTS, AND DRIVING

CLOSER, JOEY COULD SEE HIS

MIDDLE FINGER WAS STRAIGHTENED

AS IF HE WERE FLIPPING HER

OFF.

DID ONE OF THE CAV BOYS DO

THAT AS A JOKE?

SHE HEARD FROM ANOTHER M.P.

THAT THERE WAS A PREGNANT

WOMAN DEAD ON THE OTHER SIDE.

WHEN JOEY SAW ALL THE

CHILDREN'S CLOTHES SCATTERED

OVER THE SAND AND BROKEN

STONE, SHE DROVE AWAY BEFORE

SHE COULD SEE ANYTHING ELSE.

"FIRST TIME I GOT SCARED OVER

THERE WAS RIGHT AFTER ONE OF

OUR GUYS GOT IT."

"WHO?"

"SERGEANT DOOLEY.

HE WAS WITH THE CAV.

HE STOPPED A CAR AT A

CHECKPOINT AND THE GUY SHOT

HIM POINT BLANK IN THE FACE.

THEN WE LIT HIM UP."

"LIT HIM UP?"

"YEAH.

WITH THE MACHINE GUN ON THE

BRADLEY.

THEY SMOKED THE SHOOTER, THEN

THE CAV GUYS DRAGGED ANOTHER

ONE OUT OF THE CAR AND BEAT

HIM PRETTY BAD.

THEY BROUGHT HIM BACK TO CAMP

TO GET LOOKED AT BUT HE DIDN'T

MAKE IT."

THE CAVS BROUGHT THE BODY OF

THE MAN WHO KILLED DOOLEY TO A

LOCAL POLICE STATION,

QUSAYBAH.

HIS RELATIVES CLAIMED HIS BODY

AND A FEW DAYS LATER JOEY AND

FOUR OTHER M.P.s WERE ON GUARD

DUTY AT THE POLICE STATION.

THEY STOOD ON THE STEPS UNDER

THE SUN, SMOKING CIGARETTES

AND SHOOTING THE SHIT.

AFTER AWHILE, JOEY COULD HEAR

SOMETHING FROM A LONG WAY OFF:

MEN'S VOICES LOUD AND ANGRY.

SHE COULD HEAR THE FALL OF

THEIR FEET ON THE ROAD, THEIR

SHOUTING AND CHANTING.

THEN SHE SAW THEM, 40 OR 50 OF

THEM, MOST OF THEM BEARDED,

ALL OF THEM YELLING AND

THRUSTING THEIR ARMS IN THE

AIR.

SIX OR EIGHT IN FRONT CARRIED

A WOODEN CASKET ON THEIR

SHOULDERS.

THE BODY OF THE MAN WHO HAD

KILLED SERGEANT DOOLEY.

HER MOUTH WENT DRY AND SHE

DREW DOWN WITH HER M16.

TO HER RIGHT AND LEFT, HER

BUDDIES FANNED OUT ON THE

STEPS LOOKING AS STARTLED TO

HER AS SHE FELT.

ACROSS THE STREET, THE MEN

STOPPED AND SCREAMED AT THEM

IN ARABIC.

SOME PULLED OFF THEIR SHOES

AND THREW THEM AT THE M.P.s.

OTHERS THREW ROCKS.

JOEY HELD HER GROUND, AND THE

CROWD WAS A SEA OF BLACK HAIR

AND BLACK EYES AND DARK SKIN.

SHE KNEW THEY WOULD KILL HER

IF THEY COULD.

IT WAS LIKE SEEING PURE EVIL.

I KNOW THAT'S WRONG.

THERE ARE A LOT OF GOOD

IRAQIS, BUT THOSE MEN JUST

LOOK EVIL TO ME, YOU KNOW?

JOEY AND THE OTHER M.P. AND

MEDIC GIRL WERE LIVING IN AN

ABANDONED TRAIN STATION IN

QUSAYBAH.

SHE HAD A FRIEND, JIMMY MACK.

HE WAS SHORT AND BLACK, 19 AND

FUNNY.

HE WAS ONE OF THE "COMMO" OR

COMMUNICATION BOYS CAMPED NEXT

TO THEM.

HE ALWAYS OFFERED TO TAKE THE

TRASH OUT AND HE USED TO DANCE

IN THE HALLS.

HE CRACKED ME UP.

HE WAS JUST A BUBBLY LITTLE

KID.

HE WOULD WALK UP TO YOU WITH

THAT BIG SMILE AND GO, "HI,

I'M JIMMY MACK.

HI, I'M JIMMY MACK."

ONE NIGHT SHE GOT BACK FROM

PATROL AND HEARD HE WAS

MISSING.

THE NEXT DAY THEY FOUND HIS

BODY FLOATING IN THE

EUPHRATES.

NOBODY KNEW WHAT HAPPENED.

BUT NOW IN RAIDS, SHE DIDN'T

CARE SO MUCH ANY MORE ABOUT

TAPING MEN'S EYES AND COVERING

THEIR HEADS WITH SANDBAGS.

I DON'T KNOW.

I GUESS IT SEEMED DEHUMANIZING

UNTIL ONE OF MY FRIENDS DIED.

AND THEN SHE'D HEARD STORIES

ABOUT THE M.I. GUYS THROUGHOUT

THE REGION, HOW THEY WOULD GET

IRAQIS TO TALK.

YOU CAN MAKE THEM DIG THEIR

OWN GRAVE IN THE SAND

BLINDFOLDED, LOCK AND LOAD ON

THEM, TELL THEM TO PRAY TO

ALLAH AND THEN FIRE AT THEIR

FEET AND WATCH THEM PISS

THEMSELVES.

LOOKING BACK NOW, THERE'S NO

REAL ORDER TO IT.

SHE'S EVEN FORGOTTEN A LOT OF

THE NAMES OF OTHER SOLDIERS

AND TOWNS.

I DON'T KNOW.

I'VE BLOCKED OUT A LOT.

BUT SHE REMEMBERS THINGS.

SHE WAS IN HER HUMVEE GUARDING

THE "COMMO" BOYS WHILE THEY

SET UP EQUIPMENT IN THE

DESERT.

A CLOUD OF SAND ROSE IN THE

DISTANCE, AND AT FIRST SHE

THOUGHT IT WAS A STORM, BUT

THEN SHE COULD HEAR THE RUMBLE

OF THE HOOVES AND SHE SAT UP

AND WATCHED 70 CAMELS TROT BY,

A FEW BEDOUINS HERDING THEM

ALONG.

AT A CHECKPOINT ONCE, SHE MADE

THE DRIVER OPEN HIS TRUNK, AND

THERE WAS A LIVE RAM, ITS BIG

EYES STARING AT HER.

IT WASN'T UNUSUAL TO SEE A COW

OR CAMEL STANDING IN THE BACK

OF A PICKUP TRUCK.

BY THANKSGIVING--" EXCUSE ME.

"BY THANKSGIVING, SHE SHOULD

HAVE BEEN BACK STATESIDE, BUT

94th GOT EXTENDED AND SHE WAS

TRANSFERRED TO RAMADI IN THE

HEART OF THE SUNNI TRIANGLE,

ABOUT 60 MILES WEST OF

BAGHDAD, TO GUARD CHAMPION

BASE AND ONE OF SADDAM

HUSSEIN'S BOMBED-OUT PALACES.

IN CAMP THERE WAS THE 82nd

AIRBORNE AND ITS COMMANDING

OFFICER.

JOEY DREW THE NIGHT SHIFT

GUARDING THE REAR GATE, WHICH

SHE PREFERRED BECAUSE, MORE

AND MORE, SHE WANTED TO BE

LEFT ALONE.

HER SQUAD LEADER WAS AN

ELECTRICIAN AND RAN SOME WIRE

AND GOT A COFFEE MAKER

WORKING.

THEY BREWED STARBUCKS AND

DUNKIN' DONUTS THEIR FAMILIES

HAD SENT FROM HOME, AND SHE

SPENT HER NIGHTS ON TOP OF HER

HUMVEE, HER SAW LOCKED AND

LOADED, WATCHING TRACER ROUNDS

LIGHT UP THE SKY.

EVERY NOW AND THEN JETS WOULD

ROAR RIGHT OVER THE PALACE ON

THEIR WAY TO BOMB FALLUJAH,

AND SHE LIKED HOW LOUD THEY

WERE, HOW POWERFUL THEY

SOUNDED.

SHE WASN'T FEELING SO

POWERFUL, THOUGH.

IT WAS HERE IN RAMADI SHE

BEGAN TO FEEL AFRAID.

A COUPLE OF GUYS FROM NOMAD

TROOP HAD OFFERED TO GIVE HER

A RIDE IN THEIR KIOWA

HELICOPTER, BUT A FEW DAYS

LATER ANOTHER KIOWA WAS SHOT

DOWN OVER THE EUPHRATES AND

THE PILOTS DROWNED.

THERE WERE NIGHTLY MORTAR AND

ROCKET-PROPELLED GRENADE

ATTACKS ON THE PALACE, MANY OF

THEM MISSING THE BASE AND

EXPLODING ON THE BANKS OF THE

EUPHRATES.

SHE SAYS IT WAS WORSE DURING

RAMADAN, THE MUSLIM HOLY

MONTH, THAT THEY GOT ATTACKED

TWICE AS MUCH THEN.

AND SHE KEPT THINKING ABOUT

LIEUTENANT ADAMS.

HE COMMANDED A TANK BACK IN AL

QAIM.

HE WAS TALL AND BLONDE AND

SKINNY AND EXACTLY HER AGE.

AFTER PATROLS AND RAIDS, HE'D

GIVE HER A RIDE IN HIS TANK.

IN MARCH, HIS TOUR WAS UP, AND

ON THE ROAD BACK TO KUWAIT, AN

ONCOMING CAR CAME TOO CLOSE

AND HIT THE BARREL OF THE

TANK'S GUN AND SWUNG IT INTO

THE BACK OF LIEUTENANT ADAMS'S

HEAD AND KILLED HIM.

NIGHTS ON HER HUMVEE, JOEY

KEPT SEEING THINGS.

THE DOG WALKING UNDER A STREET

LIGHT HOOKED LIKE AN ARMED

MAN.

SHADOWS MOVED.

A TRUCK ENGINE TURNING OVER

MADE HER JUMP.

SHE PULLED HER 9-MILLIMETRE

FROM ITS HOLSTER AND KEEP IT

BESIDE HER.

DURING THE AFTERNOONS SHE

SLEPT IN ABANDONED SERVANTS'

QUARTERS.

ALL THE WINDOWS HAD BEEN BLOWN

OUT AND IT WAS COLD AND DAMP

AND MADE HER LEGS ACHE.

QUITE A FEW MALE SOLDIERS WERE

HOOKING UP WITH FEMALE

SOLDIERS, SHE SAYS, MANY OF

THEM MARRIED.

I MEAN, THEY'D DO IT ANYWHERE,

IN A BARRACKS, A BRADLING, THE

BACK OF A HUMVEE.

TWO GUYS ALMOST FOUGHT OVER A

GIRL.

BACK IN AL QAIM, JOEY'S

ATTACHMENT HAD GONE FOR A

MORNING RAID.

ONE OF THEIR SOLDIERS HAD BEEN

HIT THE NIGHT BEFORE AND THEY

WERE GOING TO SEARCH EVERY

DWELLING FOR WEAPONS.

IT WAS CLOSE TO 10 AND HOT

WHEN HER TEAM FOUND A FATHER

AND HIS THREE KIDS ON A

BLANKET IN THE FRONT OF THEIR

HOUSE.

THE M.P.s SEARCHED THE

BUILDING AND THERE WAS NO ONE

ELSE, NO WOMEN, NOBODY.

TWO M.P.s WERE ABOUT TO CUFF

THE FATHER BUT HIS CHILDREN

WERE CRYING SO THEY LED HIM

AWAY.

IT WAS A BOY AND A GIRL AND AN

INFANT.

THE BOY WAS ABOUT 5 AND HELD A

BABY IN HIS ARMS, HIS BLACK

EYES ON JOEY, WHO STOOD THERE

IN FULL BATTLE DRESS, HER M16

OVER HER SHOULDER, HER

9-MILLIMETRE STRAPPED IN ITS

HOLSTER ACROSS HER CHEST.

HE KEPT LOOKING FROM THE GUNS

TO HER THEN BACK AT THE GUNS,

AND THE GIRL WAS SHRIEKING AND

SHRIEKING.

SHE WAS TINY, MAYBE THREE.

HER FACE GLISTENING, HER NOSE

RUNNING AND SHE COULDN'T STOP

TREMBLING.

JOEY WALKS-- WALKED OVER TO

HER AND SQUATTED BUT THE GIRL

KEPT SCREAMING 'TIL JOEY

REACHED UP AND PULLED OFF HER

HELMET SO THE GIRL COULD SEE

HER HAIR.

JOEY SMILED AT HER AND SPOKE

QUIETLY.

THEN THE GIRL HELD OUT HER

ARMS, AND JOEY PICKED HER UP.

THE GIRL KEPT TREMBLING.

JOEY WISHED HER SIDEARM WASN'T

PRESSING AGAINST HER.

SHE WISHED SHE'D TAKEN IT OFF

SO THE GIRL WOULD FEEL

SOMETHING SOFT, SO THE GIRL

WOULD FEEL HER BREASTS AND HER

BEATING HEART, SO THE GIRL

WOULD FEEL HER.

LAST WEEK IN HER APARTMENT IN

SOUTH WEYMOUTH, JOEY HAD A

DREAM ABOUT A FRIEND WHO GOT

PREGNANT, AND SHE WOKE UP

SWEATING AND SHAKING, HER

HEART KICKING AGAINST HER

RIBS.

A SHADOW MOVED AGAINST THE

WINDOW, MOVED CLOSER, THEN

PULLED BACK.

IT WASN'T THE FIRST TIME SHE'D

SEEN IT, AND SHE WANTED TO

FEEL THE WEIGHT OF HER

9-MILLIMETRE IN HER HAND.

A FRIEND WAS VISITING HER ONE

NIGHT AND SAW THE SHADOW, TOO.

SHE STEPPED CLOSER TO THE

WINDOW AND STARTED TO LAUGH.

SHE TURNED AROUND AND SAID,

"JOEY, IT'S JUST A FLAG."

JOEY'S ACTIVE DUTY IN THE U.S.

ARMY ENDED ON SEPTEMBER 11th,

2004.

AT FORT DRUM, JUST BEFORE

BOARDING THE HOUSE FOR HOME,

SHE BOUGHT TWO DECALS, AN

AMERICAN FLAG AND A "SUPPORT

THE TROOPS" YELLOW RIBBON.

JOEY LOST THE FLAG BUT SHE

STUCK THE ONE FOR THE TROOPS

SQUARELY TO THE BUMPER OF HER

HONDA CIVIC.

THERE'S A PICTURE OF HER AND

HER DAD HUGGING AT HER

HOMECOMING.

HER CHIN IS PRESSED TO HIS

SHOULDER, HER FACE TILTED UP,

HER EYES SQUEEZED SHUT.

HER BLONDE HAIR IS PULLED BACK

FROM HER CHEEK AND SHE LOOKS

LIKE A CHILD.

HER DAD CALLS HER HIS DESERT

GIRL.

SHE'S NO LONGER INTERESTED IN

LAW ENFORCEMENT, WANTS INSTEAD

TO STUDY INTERNATIONAL

RELATIONS AND DIPLOMACY, BUT

SHE FEELS COMPLETELY

UNPROTECTED WITHOUT A GUN.

SHE FINDS HERSELF THINKING A

LOT ABOUT JIMMY MACK, ABOUT

MICHELLE AND LIEUTENANT ADAMS

AND SERGEANT DOOLEY.

IT'S WEIRD, SHE SAYS.

SHE WASN'T THAT SCARED OVER

THERE, BUT NOW THAT SHE'S

HOME, SHE'S SCARED ALL THE

TIME."

THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

(Applause)

I WANTED TO READ THAT TO YOU

BECAUSE-- WELL, FIRST OF ALL

YOU'RE THE AGE OF THAT

SOLDIER, ALL OF YOU WHO ARE

STUDENTS HERE.

I THINK SHE'S 19.

AND THERE'S PEOPLE YOUR AGE

WHO ARE FIGHTING THAT WAR.

BUT I WANT TO TALK ABOUT

WRITING.

SO I WAS WORKING ON THIS AND,

YOU KNOW, FOR THE MOST PART I

WRITE FICTION.

THAT'S MAINLY WHAT COMES OUT

OF ME AND HAS BEEN COMING OUT

OF ME FOR 20 YEARS OR SO, AND

OCCASIONALLY I'LL WRITE A BOOK

REVIEW OR A PERSONAL ESSAY,

AND I REALLY LOVE THE PERSONAL

ESSAY.

BUT I MAINLY WRITE FICTION.

AND SO I'VE NEVER WRITTEN A

PIECE OF JOURNALISM LIKE THIS

BEFORE, WHERE I WAS ACTUALLY

CALLED BY THE EDITOR, AND THEY

ASKED ME IF I WOULD LIKE TO

INTERVIEW A SOLDIER AND WRITE

ABOUT THE WAR.

AND I JUMPED AT IT, AT THE

OPPORTUNITY, BECAUSE I WAS--

MAINLY BECAUSE I WAS REALLY

CURIOUS WHAT I WOULD DISCOVER

INTERVIEWING A SOLDIER.

BUT THEY COULDN'T FIND A

SOLDIER.

THEY SAID THEY HAD A SOLDIER

AND THEN THEY DIDN'T HAVE A

SOLDIER.

IT LOOKED LIKE-- AND THE

DEADLINE WAS FIXED FOR A

CERTAIN DATE.

THREE WEEKS PASSED.

THERE WAS ABOUT A WEEK LEFT,

AND I BUMPED INTO A FRIEND OF

MINE AT THE GROCERY STORE, WHO

SAID SHE WAS UP 'TIL 3 IN THE

MORNING.

I JUST THOUGHT SHE WAS A

FELLOW INSOMNIAC LIKE ME.

I WAS TALKING TO ELENA.

I CAN'T SLEEP.

3 OR 4 IN THE MORNING.

YOU GUYS, TOO?

YOU'RE ASLEEP-- YOU GO TO BED

AT MIDNIGHT, WAKE UP AT 1:30,

AWAKE 'TIL FOUR, HEART'S GOING

LIKE THAT.

SHE WAS UP.

I SAID WHY ARE YOU UP?

INSOMNIA?

OH, NO.

MY NIECE CALLED.

SHE JUST HAD TO TALK ABOUT

IRAQ.

I SAID YOUR NIECE WAS IN IRAQ?

YEAH, MY NIECE WAS A 94th M.P.

COMPANY SOLDIER FOR 15 MONTHS

IN IRAQ.

SO I INTERVIEWED HER THREE

TIMES, TWO LONG DINNERS AND

THEN A LONG PHONE CALL AND

THEN SOME E-MAILS.

AND I SUBMITTED THE PIECE.

I WROTE IT IN ONE LONG DAY AND

SUBMITTED IT, AND I WENT BACK

TO MY LIFE DOING ALL THE

THINGS I DO.

AND I GOT A CALL FROM A GUY

WHO FICTION WRITERS DON'T

NORMALLY GET A CALL FROM.

HE CALLED FROM A MAGAZINE.

HE SAYS, "HI, THIS IS FRANCIS

THE FACT-CHECKER."

(Chuckling)

I SAID IT SOUNDS LIKE A

CHILDREN'S BOOK: I'M FRANCIS

THE FACT-CHECKER.

OKAY.

NOW YOU GUYS, NOVELISTS-- WITH

A PUBLISHER, EVEN WITH A NOVEL

YOU'LL ALSO HAVE A

FACT-CHECKER CHECK OUT CERTAIN

THINGS BUT NOT VERY MUCH.

I MEAN THEY MIGHT SAY

SOMETHING LIKE, "GEE, ARE YOU

SURE IT WAS AN ELECTION YEAR

IN 1971 IN COLORADO?

WE THINK IT'S 1970," SO YOU

HAVE TO MAKE SOME ADJUSTMENTS.

BUT, MAN, WHEN YOU'RE WRITING

JOURNALISM AND YOU'RE COVERING

THE FACTS OF SOMEONE'S

EXPERIENCE ON RECORD, THEY ARE

VERY UNDERSTANDABLY CAREFUL

ABOUT GETTING IT RIGHT.

SO HE CALLED ME AND WE HAD

QUITE A FEW CONVERSATIONS.

HE CALLED AND SAID, YEAH, HI,

THIS IS FRANCIS, AND LISTEN, I

WAS TALKING TO JOEY, AND SHE

SAID ACTUALLY IN RAMADI SHE

KEPT THE 9-MILLIMETRE ON THE

LEFT SIDE, NOT HER RIGHT.

OKAY.

LET'S FIX THAT.

WE'LL FIX THAT.

AND SOME IMPORTANT THINGS.

LIKE IT WASN'T THE SO-AND-SO

CAVALRY DIVISION.

IT WAS THE THIRD INFANTRY

SOMETHING.

OKAY, VERY IMPORTANT.

LET'S FIX THAT.

AND THEN HE BEGAN TO SAY

THINGS LIKE, WELL, IT WASN'T

STARBUCKS.

IT WAS ACTUALLY PETE'S COFFEE.

I'M MAKING THIS UP.

SOMETHING LIKE IT WASN'T

DUNKIN'S.

IT WAS STARBUCKS AND ANOTHER

KIND.

AFTER AWHILE I BEGAN TO FEEL A

LITTLE PEEVED.

LIKE, OKAY, ALL RIGHT.

I KNOW I HAVE A MORAL

RESPONSIBILITY TO THIS

SOLDIER.

GOD KNOWS SHE'S THE ONE WHO'S

IMPORTANT HERE, NOT ME.

SHE WENT THERE; SHE RISKED HER

LIFE; SHE SAW THIS TERRIBLE

STUFF.

I'M TRYING TO CAPTURE HER

EXPERIENCE.

BUT THEN IT GOT ME THINKING

ABOUT AN ESSAY I HEARD ON THE

RADIO.

AND I'LL JUST TELL YOU THIS

BRIEF STORY.

THIS YOUNG FATHER, WHEN HE WAS

FIRST FATHER OF A LITTLE KID,

HE HAD A 2-YEAR-OLD SON, AND

THE 2-YEAR-OLD SON CAME TO

HIM, HE WAS ALMOST THREE AND

SAYING, "DAD, DAD!

I KNOW WHO GOD IS."

AND HE SAID, "SON, WAIT!

DON'T MOVE!"

AND THE FATHER RAN.

HE GOT HIS TAPE RECORDER.

HE GOT SOME BATTERIES AND WENT

TO THE DRAWER AND GOT THE

MICROPHONE.

HE FINALLY GOT IT ALL

TOGETHER.

HE PUT THE MIC IN THE KID'S

FACE.

"OKAY, HONEY.

GO AHEAD.

WHO'S GOD?"

HE SAID, "DAD, LET'S WATCH

TELETUBBIES."

HE COMPLETELY LOST THE MOMENT.

YOU'LL NEVER HEAR THAT AGAIN!

YOU'LL NEVER KNOW EVER AGAIN

WHAT HIS SON THOUGHT OF GOD AT

THAT POINT IN HIS LIFE.

HE LOST IT!

SO BEGAN TO TALK IN THIS RADIO

ESSAY ABOUT HOW WE'RE RUSHING

TO RECORD OUR LIVES THESE

DAYS, KNOW NOW THAT WE HAVE

THE TECHNOLOGY.

YOU GUYS, ESPECIALLY YOUR

GENERATION, MY GOD!

I'M JUST HIP TO THE FACT YOU

CAN TAKE A PICTURE WITH A CELL

PHONE.

IS THAT TRUE?

MORE STUFF I DON'T KNOW.

I MEAN, THE TECHNOLOGY YOU

GUYS HAVE AVAILABLE TO RECORD

YOUR LIVES IS UNBELIEVABLE.

SO THIS FATHER WENT ON TO

SAY-- OLDER FATHER NOW.

HE HAD A DAUGHTER WHO WAS

ABOUT 8 OR 9, AND SHE HAD A

PIANO RECITAL, AND THE DAY OF

THE RECITAL HE DISCIPLINED

HIMSELF NOT TO BRING ANY VIDEO

CAMERA, NO NOTHING.

HE WAS JUST GOING TO GO.

HE WAS GOING TO SIT AND HE WAS

JUST GOING TO WATCH HIS

DAUGHTER BE IN THE MOMENT,

BECAUSE YOU KNOW YOU GO TO

THESE THINGS, IT'S LIKE SEA

SPANS VISITING.

GET ALL THESE PARENTS WITH

TRIPODS AND SO MANY CAMERAS,

YOU CAN HARDLY SIT DOWN.

IT'S LIKE A PRESS CONFERENCE.

AND HE SAT THERE AND HE HAD NO

CAMERA, AND HE JUST SAT THERE

IN THE FRONT ROW AND HE JUST

WATCHED HIS BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER

PLAY, AND HE LISTENED TO HER

PLAY, AND HE WAS IN THE MOMENT

WITH HIS DAUGHTER, AND HE FELT

SO MUCH EMOTION.

WHEN HE WAS DONE, HE JUST

SKIPPED THE TEA AND COOKIES

STUFF AND HE KIND OF WALKED

HOME, AND HE JUST STARTED

THINKING ABOUT HIS DAUGHTER

AND REMEMBERING WHAT A

WONDERFUL MOMENT IT WAS TO

WATCH HER PLAY THOSE BACH

PRELUDES.

HE REMEMBERED HOW THE RIBBON

IN HER HAIR JUST KIND OF MOVED

SLIGHTLY AS SHE HIT THE

CLIMACTIC NOTES.

HE REMEMBERED HOW THE SNOW

FELL SOFTLY OUT THE WINDOW

BEHIND HER AND, YOU KNOW, THE

CHIFFON DRAPERY OR-- WHAT DO

YOU CALL THOSE THINGS, THOSE

THINGS?

VALANCES.

A LOT OF WRITING IS NOT DONE

WHERE THESE THINGS ARE.

I'M HAVING TO FIND OUT.

HE SAT NEXT TO THOSE TWO OLD

LADIES WHO KIND OF SMELLED

LIKE LAVENDER PERFUME.

THEN HE'S WALKING ALONG AND HE

NOTICED IT'S ACTUALLY NOT

SNOWING NOW.

HE SAID, WELL, YOU KNOW, I

DON'T KNOW.

MAYBE IT WASN'T REALLY SNOWING

WHEN SHE WAS PLAYING, BUT I

KIND OF REMEMBER IT THAT WAY

NOW.

HE SAID, YOU KNOW, AND MAYBE--

ACTUALLY MAYBE I WASN'T

SITTING NEXT TO TWO OLD

LADIES.

ACTUALLY THEY MIGHT HAVE BEEN

TWO OLD MEN.

IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN YOUNG MEN,

YOUNGER THAN I AM.

BUT I REMEMBER TWO OLD LADIES,

AND I REMEMBER THEY KIND OF

SMELLED LIKE LAVENDER, AND

THAT'S HOW I'M GOING TO

REMEMBER IT.

HE SAID, YOU KNOW, I DON'T

EVEN KNOW IF SHE HAD A RIBBON

IN HER HAIR OR IF IT WAS WHITE

BUT I KEEP SEEING IT NOW THAT

I THINK ABOUT IT.

RIGHT?

LET ME ASK YOU GUYS-- I KNOW

FOR A FACT, IF I WERE TO CALL

ON ANY OF YOU, IF YOUR WHOLE

FAMILY WERE SITTING HERE NEXT

TO YOU AND I ASKED YOU ABOUT A

BAD FAMILY DINNER AND FOR SOME

REASON THEY WERE LIKE 300,000

IN OUR LIVES, NO MATTER HOW

BEAUTIFUL THE FAMILY IS, BAD

FAMILY DINNERS.

IF I ASKED YOU TO RECALL A BAD

FAMILY DINNER, I CAN GUARANTEE

YOU NOT ONE OF YOU WILL RECALL

IT THE SAME, RIGHT?

AT THESE DINNERS, I THINK

ABOUT MY OWN FAMILY.

MY BROTHER JEB, WHO I LOVE BUT

I JUST WANT TO KILL, AND HE

WANTS TO KILL ME.

REMEMBER THAT?

UNCLE HARRY CAME IN.

HE WAS DRUNK.

HE THREW UP ALL OVER THE

TURKEY.

REMEMBER THAT?

MA HAD TO THROW IT OUT.

I'D SAY THAT.

JEB WOULD SAY, NO.

HE DIDN'T THROW UP OVER THE

TURKEY.

I THREW UP ON THE TURKEY, AND

ACTUALLY IT WAS THE HAM, AND

MA DIDN'T THROW IT OUT.

NO!

FIRST OF ALL, HARRY WAS THERE.

HE WAS DRUNK.

NO, IT WASN'T HARRY.

IT WAS SUZANNE'S BOYFRIEND,

THAT JERK.

REMEMBER THAT ACID-HEAD?

HE WAS THERE, AND HE BROUGHT

THE TURKEY AND IT WAS REALLY,

YOU KNOW, SPAM!

AND YOU'RE TALKING.

AND YOU'RE ALL THERE, AND

YOU'RE GETTING READY TO FIGHT

FOR YOUR MEMORY.

I MEAN YOU'RE ABOUT TO HAVE

FISTICUFFS OVER IT.

YOU'RE ABOUT TO FIGHT OVER IT.

AND I DON'T KNOW WHY THAT'S

TRUE, BUT YOU LOOK AT MEMORY.

ALL RIGHT SO I WENT BACK AND I

STARTED TO THINK ABOUT THIS

ARTICLE AND FRANCIS THE

FACT-CHECKER.

AND THIS IS THE DETAIL THAT

YOU GUYS DID IT FOR ME.

HE SAID, YOU KNOW, WHEN SHE

WAS GUARDING THE COMMO BOYS--

AND BY THE WAY THINK ABOUT

THIS, YOU GUYS.

THIS IS A 19, 20-YEAR-OLD

WOMAN, AND SHE'S AN M.P. WITH

HOWEVER MANY, NINE WEEKS OF

TRAINING, AND HER JOB IS TO

GUARD THE MALE SOLDIERS IN THE

DESERT.

HER JOB WAS TO GUARD THE 82nd

AIRBORNE.

THINK ABOUT THAT.

SHE SAID, WELL, YOU KNOW, I

READ HER THE PASSAGE I WROTE

ABOUT THE CAMELS AND THE

BEDOUINS AND 70 CAMELS.

SHE SAID SHE DIDN'T REALLY SEE

THE CLOUD OF DUST.

SHE JUST LOOKED UP AND THERE

THEY WERE.

I SAID, COME ON!

I'VE GOT TO LOSE MY CLOUD OF

DUST?

ARE YOU SURE SHE JUST LOOKED

UP?

I'M SURE THE WAY SHE DESCRIBED

IT TO ME, I REMEMBER A CLOUD

OF DUST.

HE SAID, NO, NO I DON'T THINK

SHE SAW THAT CLOUD OF DUST.

I SAID, YEAH, BUT I'M A

FICTION WRITER, RIGHT?

HE SAID YEAH.

I SAID SO YOU GUYS HIRED ME

FOR A REASON, RIGHT?

HE SAID YEAH.

I SAID I'D KIND OF LIKE TO

KEEP THAT CLOUD OF DUST.

(Laughter)

SO I KEPT IT, BUT I FEEL KIND

OF IMMORAL KEEPING IT.

(Laughter)

I REALLY-- AND I'M CONFESSING.

AND SO IT'S GOT ME QUESTIONING

THIS WHOLE NOTION OF FACT

VERSUS TRUTH.

FACT VERSUS TRUTH.

HOW MANY OF YOU, JUST RAISE

YOUR HANDS, HAVE EVER TRIED TO

WRITE A SHORT STORY FROM YOUR

OWN LIFE, BASED ON SOME OF

YOUR OWN LIFE EXPERIENCES?

HOW MANY OF YOU TRIED TO DO

THAT?

A LOT OF YOU, RIGHT?

IT'S HARD, ISN'T IT?

YOU KNOW WHY IT'S SO HARD?

ONE REASON WHY IT'S SO HARD?

BECAUSE YOU CONFUSE THE FACTS

WITH THE TRUTH.

WELL, NOW I'VE GOT TO HAVE HER

BOYFRIEND COME IN, RIGHT,

BECAUSE HE CAME IN.

HE WAS ALL WET.

HE TRIPPED.

HE CHIPPED HIS TOOTH AND

THAT'S WHEN DAD GOT REALLY

PISSED.

BUT JUST BECAUSE IT HAPPENED

LIKE THAT IN LIFE DOESN'T MEAN

THAT'S WHAT THE STORY WANTS TO

HAPPEN, RIGHT?

I THINK ABOUT PICASSO.

YOU KNOW WHAT PABLO PICASSO--

I HOPE THIS IS THE EXACT

QUOTE.

I MAY BE BUTCHERING IT A

LITTLE BIT.

BUT HE SAID THAT ART TELLS ONE

GREAT BIG LIE IN ORDER TO SHOW

A GREATER TRUTH, RIGHT?

SO THE FICTION WRITER, BY HIS

OR HER VERY NATURE, KIND OF

USES THE FACTS AS STARTER

DOUGH, THE WAY YOU WERE TO

BAKE A LOAF OF BREAD AND THEN

IT GOES SOMEPLACE ELSE.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE WORD

"REMEMBER" ACTUALLY MEANS, TO

REMEMBER?

WHEN YOU BREAK IT DOWN,

ETYMOLOGICALLY, YOU

"RE-MEMBER."

ANYBODY KNOW?

I'M CALLING ON YOU NOW.

ANY THOUGHTS?

I'LL GIVE YOU A HINT.

IT'S THE OPPOSITE-- ARE YOU

RAISING YOUR HAND?

IT'S THE OPPOSITE OF

DISMEMBER.

CHOP, CHOP, CHOP, CHOP.

TO REMEMBER MEANS TO PUT BACK

TOGETHER AGAIN.

TO PUT BACK TOGETHER.

YOU GUYS, THAT IS WHY THESE

TERRIBLE DISEASES THAT ROB YOU

OF MEMORY ARE SO POIGNANT

BECAUSE WE CAN'T QUITE PUT IT

BACK TOGETHER BECAUSE WE GO

BACK AND REMEMBER.

ALL RIGHT.

SO THIS NOVEL, THIS DEPRESSING

LITTLE BOOK YOU'VE READ "HOUSE

OF SAND AND FOG," LET ME TELL

YOU A LITTLE BIT ABOUT HOW

THIS CAME ABOUT.

WHAT I'M TRYING TO TELL YOU IS

I PREFER TO WRITE FICTION THAN

I DO TO JOURNALISM.

WHAT HAPPENS IN FICTION IS

THERE'S A GESTATION PROCESS.

I KNOW A LOT OF YOU ARE ALSO

CREATIVE WRITERS OR INTERESTED

IN CREATIVE WRITING SO I

REALLY WANT YOU TO HEAR THIS.

I ONCE GOT THE IDEA FOR A

STORY ON TUESDAY AND I

LITERALLY STARTED THE STORY ON

THURSDAY.

AND I'D BEEN WRITING FOR ABOUT

6 OR 7 YEARS.

I HAD BEGUN TO DEVELOP SOME

KIND OF ABILITY, AND LITERALLY

I WROTE FOR SIX WEEKS.

AND IT WAS FINE.

IT WAS INTERESTING ENOUGH.

I HAD SOME THINGS HAPPENING IN

TEXAS WHICH SEEN BAD GUYS,

GOOD GUYS, WEIRD JOBS I HAD IN

MY LIFE.

AND THEN AROUND THE SIXTH

WEEK, THE THING JUST COLLAPSED

LIKE A FILM SET.

HAVE YOU GUYS EVER BEEN ON A

HOLLYWOOD FILM SET?

YOU GO DOWN WESTERN STREET,

YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS?

YOU SEE THESE BEAUTIFUL OLD

BUILDINGS, 90 GUYS IN ABOUT 30

DAYS FOR TEN MILLION BUCKS.

YOU WALK DOWN THIS GREAT TOWN

BUT YOU OPEN THE DOOR AND YOU

LOOK AND IT'S JUST A FACADE

HELD UP BY A TELEPHONE POLE.

AND WHEN THEY'RE DONE

SHOOTING, THEY HAVE CHAIN

SAWS.

IT'S GONE.

THEY BURN IT.

SUCH A WASTE!

RIGHT?

WELL, MY NOVEL JUST FELL APART

JUST LIKE THAT.

JUST A FACADE.

AND IT WAS DEAD.

I DIDN'T KNOW WHY.

I'VE SINCE COME TO LEARN,

PAINFULLY, AND I HAVE TO KEEP

RELEARNING THESE LESSONS; AND

I THINK THE IMAGINATION NEEDS

TO BE PREGNANT WITH THESE

THINGS, NOW.

IN THE SAME WAY THAT A BABY--

A HUMAN BABY TAKES NINE

MONTHS, I THINK IT TAKES EVEN

LONGER FOR THESE STORIES TO

GESTATE INSIDE YOU.

THERE'S A GREAT LINE FROM THE

FILMMAKER MIKE NICHOLS.

HE WAS INTERVIEWED-- ONE OF MY

INSOMNIAC NIGHT I WAS ACTUALLY

WATCHING-- YOU GUYS EVER WATCH

CHARLIE ROSE, RIGHT, WITH THE

BLACK BACKGROUND?

HE ACTUALLY GETS ON MY

INTERVIEWS.

HE GETS IN INTERVIEWS TOO

MUCH.

I HAD INSOMNIA.

MY 3-YEAR-OLD SON ELIAS ALSO

HAD INSOMNIA SO WE WERE HAVING

A COUPLE BEERS.

HE WASN'T HAVING A BEER.

I WAS HAVING A BEER, AND I WAS

WATCHING CHARLIE ROSE AND IT

WAS A GREAT INTERVIEW WITH

DIRECTOR MIKE NICHOLS WHO DID

"THE GRADUATE," "PRIMARY

COLORS."

"CLOSE" IS HIS BRAND-NEW ONE.

VERY PROVOCATIVE GUY.

SO LISTEN TO THIS.

SO CHARLIE ROSE ASKS HIM, SO,

WHAT'S THE MAIN QUESTION THE

STORYTELLER ASKS?

AND NICHOLS SAID, WELL, IT'S

NOT THE MAIN QUESTION THE--

NO.

HE SAID, WELL, HE SAID, IT'S

NOT THE MAIN QUESTION THE

NEWSPAPER REPORTER OR

JOURNALIST ASKS.

AND ROSE SAYS, WELL, WHY NOT?

HE SAID, WELL, THE MAIN

QUESTION THE NEWSPAPER

REPORTER OR JOURNALIST ASKS

IS, WHAT?

WHAT, YOU GUYS?

WHAT'S THE MAIN QUESTION THEY

ASK?

ALL THEM W's, RIGHT?

WHAT HAPPENED?

WHEN?

WHERE?

ALL THAT STUFF.

SO ROSE SAYS, WELL, WHAT,

THAT'S NOT THE MAIN QUESTION

THE STORYTELLER ASKS, TOO?

HE SAID NO.

SO WHAT DO YOU THINK HE SAID?

IF THE MAIN QUESTION IS NOT

WHAT HAPPENED?

THEN WHAT'S THE MAIN QUESTION

THE STORYTELLER ASKS HIM OR

HERSELF AS THEY CONTINUE TO

WRITE?

IF IT'S NOT WHAT HAPPENED?

I'M GOING TO CALL ON SOMEBODY

JUST LIKE IN SCHOOL.

(Laughter)

SOMEBODY TAKE A GUESS.

IF IT'S NOT "WHAT HAPPENED?"

WHAT IS IT?

WHAT'S THAT?

>> HOW DID IT HAPPEN?

>> Andre: HOW DID IT HAPPEN?

CLOSE.

WHY DID IT HAPPEN?

CLOSE.

THERE WILL BE MORE ANALYSIS

MAYBE.

YES?

WOW.

WHAT'S YOUR NAME?

WILLIAM, VERY NICE.

YEAH, I THINK THAT'S THE

CLOSEST.

HE SAID HOW DOES IT FEEL LIKE?

I THINK THAT NAILS IT.

MIKE NICHOLS ASKED-- THE OTHER

STUFF IS GOOD, TOO, BUT HE HAD

A VERY ELEGANT LINE.

HE SAID "THE JOB OF THE

STORYTELLER IS NOT TO ASK WHAT

HAPPENED BUT WHAT'S IT LIKE?

WHAT'S IT REALLY LIKE TO BE IN

THIS THING THAT'S HAPPENED?"

RIGHT?

YOU KNOW WHAT WILLIAM FAULKNER

SAID LATER IN HIS LIFE?

HE WAS ASKED BY THESE GREAT

SCHOLARS FROM THE EAST.

HE SAID Mr. FAULKNER, WHAT'S

THE MAIN THING A YOUNG WRITER

NEEDS TO CREATE THE KIND OF

LITERARY ART YOU HAVE, SIR?

HE SAID, WELL, IT AIN'T

TALENT.

SO IF IT AIN'T TALENT, BILL,

WHAT IS IT?

WHAT DO YOU THINK HE SAID?

HE SAID IT'S NOT TALENT.

IMAGINATION?

YEAH, CLOSE.

HE WOULD AGREE.

THAT'S NOT WHAT HE SAID.

ALTHOUGH YOU'RE ANSWERING

CORRECTLY, TOO.

WAS THAT MARIA?

THROUGH LISA?

ISN'T THAT A GREAT NAME?

HAVE YOU GUYS MET JULISSA?

J-U-L-I-S-S-A.

IMAGINATION IS PART OF WHAT HE

SAID.

WHAT DO YOU THINK HE SAID?

IF IT'S NOT TALENT.

I'LL GIVE YOU A HINT.

IT STARTS WITH A HARD "C."

CHARISMA?

NO.

WHAT'S THAT?

CHARACTER?

THAT WOULD WORK, TOO, BUT NO.

AIN'T CORN WHISKEY EITHER.

CREATIVITY IS PART OF IT.

LET ME GET REALLY FUNDAMENTAL.

GO BACK TO NICHOLS' QUOTE

ABOUT WHAT'S IT LIKE, WHAT'S

IT REALLY LIKE TO BE IN THIS

THING THAT HAPPENED?

>> CURIOSITY.

>> Andre: YES!

WHO SAID THAT?

YES, MA'AM.

OH, TEACHER SAID IT.

(Laughter)

DOESN'T COUNT.

MELISSA, RIGHT?

YEAH.

CURIOSITY.

HIS EXACT WORDS WERE

"CURIOSITY."

INSIGHT, TO MULL AND TO MUSE

WHY IT IS THAT MAN DOES WHAT

HE DOES, AND IF YOU HAVE THAT,

THEN TALENT DOESN'T MAKE MUCH

DIFFERENCE WHETHER YOU'VE GOT

IT OR NOT.

YOU GUYS, I'VE BEEN TEACHING

WRITING CLASSES A LONG TIME

AND I SEE A REAL PATTERN.

I GET GIFTED YOUNG PEOPLE AND

OLD PEOPLE, TOO, ALL THE TIME.

AND THAT'S NOT THE ONLY THING

YOU NEED, I'VE NOTICED,

BECAUSE I'VE GOTTEN STUDENTS

WHO HAVE SEEMED ON THE SURFACE

ANYWAY, WITH MY BRIEF TIME

WITH THEM, MAYBE ESSENTIALLY

OR NATURALLY LESS GIFTED, BUT

THEY WENT ON TO DO THINGS WITH

THEIR WRITING; AND I THINK--

I'M NOT EVEN TALKING ABOUT

PUBLICATION.

I'M JUST TALKING ABOUT WRITING

SOMETHING GOOD.

AND WHAT THEY HAD WAS THIS

DYING ALMOST NERDY ALMOST

SOCIALLY INAPPROPRIATE

CURIOSITY.

YOU GUYS, IT'S JUST LIKE WHEN

YOU READ THE PAPER IN THE

MORNING AND YOU'RE EATING

BREAKFAST AND YOUR FRIEND

SAYS, WOW!

SHE KIDNAPPED HER OWN

EX-HUSBAND FROM THE NEW WIFE,

DROVE TO VEGAS AND DROWNED

HIM!

THAT'S GROTESQUE.

I JUST MADE THAT UP.

BUT YOU READ STUFF LIKE THAT,

YOU KNOW.

THE LITTLE NEWS BRIEFS, JUST A

PARAGRAPH, AND YOU THINK, WOW,

WHAT THE-- YOU KNOW, YOU

ACTUALLY SAY THE WORDS: CAN

YOU IMAGINE?

THAT'S AWFUL.

PASS THE SALT.

RIGHT?

BUT THE WEIRD THING ABOUT THE

WRITER, YOU GUYS, IS THEY

CAN'T STOP IMAGINING IT!

WOW.

HOW DID SHE DO THAT?

SHE MUST BE BIGGER THAN HE IS

THE DID SHE USE A WEAPON OF

SOME KIND?

DID SHE MAYBE COAX HIM INTO

IT?

AND HOW WAS THAT DRIVE.

THAT'S LIKE A FIVE-DAY DRIVE.

WHAT DID THEY TALK ABOUT?

DID SHE KNOCK HIM OUT?

DID THEY GO PEE?

DID THEY MAKE LOVE?

DID THEY NOT?

AND YOU CAN'T SHUT UP!

THAT'S WHY YOU HAVE INSOMNIA.

WHAT KIND OF CAR WAS IT?

HOW COME THE COPS DIDN'T COME?

DID THEY CALL THE COPS?

IT GOES ON AND ON.

ALL RIGHT.

SO I WRITE THIS BOOK "HOUSE OF

SAND AND FOG."

AND IT CAME JUST FROM TWO

SOURCES OF NOT KNOWING A DAMN

THING.

ONE WAS I FELL IN LOVE WITH A

PERSIAN GIRL IN COLLEGE, JUST

ADORED HER, COULDN'T BREATHE

AROUND HER.

SHE DIDN'T KNOW I WAS EVEN ON

THE PLANET.

(Laughter)

REALLY DID NOT.

IT WAS ONE OF THOSE THINGS

WHERE I QUITE GEEKILY FOLLOWED

HER AROUND FOR ABOUT TEN YEARS

UNTIL SHE STARTED LETTING ME

COME OVER FOR LUNCH AT HER

PARENTS' HOUSE.

AND I QUICKLY LEARNED, AND OUT

OF ALL RESPECT FOR THE PERSIAN

CULTURE-- WHICH BY THE WAY,

YOU GUYS, IS NOT ARABIC

CULTURE.

PERSIAN CULTURE AND ARABIC

CULTURE ARE QUITE DIFFERENT.

IT'S FRENCH AND SPANISH.

THE ONLY THING THEY SHARE IS

ISLAM, BUT PERSIANS ARE

PREDOMINANTLY SHIITE AND ARABS

ARE PREDOMINANTLY SUNNIS, SO

THERE ARE BIG DIFFERENCES IN

THE CULTURES.

SO BY OSMOSIS, THE ONLY WAY I

CAN GET TO BE WITH THIS

BEAUTIFUL WOMAN I'M IN LOVE

WITH AT AGE 17, 18, 19, AND MY

TIME TO SEE HER OUTSIDE OF

CLASS, IS TO GO TO HER

MOTHER'S HOUSE AND SPEND TIME

WITH HER AND HER MOTHER AND

HER SISTER AND BROTHER,

BECAUSE YOU COULD NOT DATE A

SHIITE GIRL: HEY, YOU WANT TO

GET A SIX AND GO CRUISING?

CAN'T DO IT.

CAN'T DO THAT.

NOT TO TALK ABOUT-- DRINKING

AND DRIVING IS NOT GOOD, BUT

THAT'S WHAT WE'D DO.

WE GO FIND A BENCH.

(Laughter)

AND IT WAS NOT THE THING.

AND I LOVED HER.

I WAS REALLY-- IT WASN'T JUST

A SENSUAL THING.

SHE WAS A LOVELY PERSON IN AND

OUT, AND I JUST WANTED TO BE

AROUND HER.

WELL, SO I'M SITTING AROUND IN

HER HOUSE AND THE FAMILY-- A

BEAUTIFUL FAMILY ARE SPEAKING

FARSI.

THE MOTHER DOESN'T SPEAK ANY

ENGLISH.

(Speaking foreign language)

OH, I LOOK AT THEM.

YOU KNOW, AND NOW HERE'S THE

MOTHER SITTING HERE AND THE

BROTHER AND THE SISTER.

MY GIRLFRIEND'S WAY OVER THERE

AND THAT'S AS CLOSE AS I EVER

GOT.

REALLY, IT IS.

AND ONE DAY I NOTICED THE

PICTURE OF THE SHAH OF IRAN ON

THE WALL AND, YOU KNOW, WHEN I

FIRST STARTED GOING OUT WITH

HER, I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WHERE

IRAN WAS.

I WAS A TYPICAL AMERICAN WHO

DIDN'T KNOW MY GEOGRAPHY.

BUT ALSO I HAVE TO TELL YOU

HOW IGNORANT I AM.

I GREW UP IN MASSACHUSETTS AND

I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW MARTHA'S

VINEYARD WAS AN ISLAND OFF

CAPE COD.

I THOUGHT IT WAS DOWN THE

CAPE.

I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS AN ISLAND

YOU HAD TO HAVE A BOAT TO GET

TO.

(Laughter)

SO IRAN.

AND I'D SEE THE SHAH OF IRAN.

I'D SAY, WOW, THAT'S THE SHAH

OF IRAN.

I KNEW WHAT A POWERFUL

DICTATOR HE WAS.

CORRUPTION AND TERRIBLE STUFF

GOING ON AND SAME OLD STORY.

THERE WAS A MAN SITTING NEXT

TO HIM SMOKING A CIGAR.

I SAID, WHO'S THAT?

PRIME MINISTER?

NO, NO, THAT'S BOBO.

AND BOBO IN FARSI IS DADDY.

THAT'S YOUR DAD?

OH, YEAH.

YOUR DAD KNOWS THE SHAH?

OH, HE WORKED QUITE CLOSELY

WITH THE SHAH, YES.

HE'S COMING NEXT WEEK FROM

PARIS.

HE'S VERY INTERESTED IN

MEETING YOU.

OH, GOD!

I WAS TERRIFIED!

IF I WASN'T TERRIFIED BEFORE

ALREADY 'CAUSE YOU KNOW HE'S A

MAN AND HE KNOWS.

I WAS TERRIFIED ON THE OTHER

LEVEL.

AND THEN HE CAME, AND I THINK

I KISSED HIM MORE THAN I EVER

KISSED HER, YOU KNOW.

I MEAN JUST-- I SPENT TWO

YEARS WITH THIS LOVELY FAMILY,

AND HE WAS A TRAINED ENGINEER,

WHO VERY MUCH BEGAN TO LIVE

THE LIFE THAT THE COLONEL DOES

IN THE STORY.

YOU GUYS, IT'S ONE IMAGE,

THOUGH.

IT'S AN IMAGE THAT GIVES BIRTH

TO A WHOLE BOOK, AND I'LL

EXPLAIN IT.

HE WAS WORKING TWO MENIAL

SHIFTS, EIGHT HOURS EACH, ONE

IN A SHOE FACTORY AND ONE IN A

CONVENIENCE STORE GAS STATION,

AND HE'D COME HOME AT MIDNIGHT

AND GO GROCERY SHOPPING ALL

NIGHT, SAFEWAY PLACE, BECAUSE

AS THE WOMAN IN THE BOOK IS,

HIS WIFE WAS VERY WITHDRAWN.

SHE WAS SOCIALLY ISOLATED,

SPOKE NO ENGLISH.

SO HE DID THE SHOPPING.

AND IT WAS AROUND MIDNIGHT AND

I WAS THERE, AND I HELPED HIM

BRING IN HIS GROCERIES THE AND

WE'RE IN THE ELEVATOR, AND

AROUND HIS FEET ARE GROCERIES

AND HE LOOKS VERY TIRED, AND

HE SAID IN HIS VERY THICK

PERSIAN ACCENT, HE SAID "YOU

KNOW, ANDRE, I USED TO WORK

WITH KINGS AND QUEENS AND

PRESIDENTS AND VICE PRESIDENTS

AND PRIME MINISTERS OF ENTIRE

COUNTRIES BY MYSELF.

NOW I SERVE CANDY AND

CIGARETTES TO KIDS WHO DON'T

EVEN KNOW WHO I AM."

AND THEN HE SHOOK HIS HEAD AND

HE SAID "I JUST NEVER THOUGHT

THAT WOULD HAPPEN TO ME."

I COULD NEVER FORGET IT.

YOU KNOW, I WASN'T EVEN

WRITING THEN, AND OF COURSE

I-- YOU KNOW, I-- I WAS JUST

IN A HUMAN MOMENT WITH HIM

THINKING, THAT'S GOT TO BE SO

BIZARRE AND HARD AND STRANGE.

I FELT LIKE SUCH A PUPPY IN

LIFE AROUND HIM WHEN HE SAID

IT.

OF COURSE I WAS A PUPPY

COMPARED TO HIM.

ALL RIGHT.

SO BUT, YOU KNOW, JUST AN

IMAGE I NEVER FORGOT.

BY THE WAY WE ALL HAVE THEM,

YOU GUYS.

ALL OF US HAVE THESE

INCREDIBLE IMAGES THAT--

THEY'RE USUALLY NOT VERY

DRAMATIC.

THEY'RE IMAGES LIKE THAT, THE

GUY IN AN ELEVATOR, YOU KNOW,

WITH GROCERIES.

I'M TELLING YOU, WE ALL HAVE

THEM.

IF YOU WERE TO WRITE YOURSELF

INTO THAT IMAGE, THE WORLD

WOULD OPEN UP.

I THINK THAT'S WHY WE NEVER

FORGET THEM.

FAST-FORWARD ABOUT 10, 12

YEARS.

MUCH TO MY SURPRISE I'M

WRITING FICTION.

I JUST FINISHED WHAT TURNED

INTO MY FIRST PUBLISHED NOVEL.

IT WAS ACTUALLY LIKE A FOURTH

I'D FINISHED.

AND I READ IN THE NEWSPAPER,

JUST THOSE LITTLE NEWSPAPER

THINGS ABOUT A WOMAN WHO GOT

EVICTED FROM HER HOUSE FOR

FAILURE TO PAY BACK TAXES SHE

SAYS SHE DIDN'T OWE.

THEY KICKED HER OUT OF THE

HOUSE, REPOSSESSED IT, EVICTED

HER, REPOSSESSED IT, AUCTIONED

IT OFF AND THEN REALIZED THEY

MADE A BUREAUCRATIC ERROR; IT

WAS THE WRONG HOUSE AND THEY

KICKED OUT THE WRONG LADY.

THIS HAS HAPPENED A LOT,

SURPRISINGLY OFTEN.

AND THE MAN WHO BOUGHT THE

HOUSE IN AN AUCTION FAIR AND

SQUARE WAS UNDER NO LEGAL

PRESSURE TO SELL IT BACK AND

HE WASN'T SURE HE WANTED TO.

NOW, REMEMBER I ACTUALLY

BROUGHT THIS IN TO MY

STUDENTS.

IT WAS MY FIRST SEMESTER

TEACHING WRITING.

I NO IDEA HOW TO DO IT, NEVER

TAUGHT A WRITING CLASS, DIDN'T

KNOW HOW I GOT THE JOB

ACTUALLY.

(Laughing)

SHOWING THEM THE NEWSPAPER.

HEY, YOU GUYS SHOULD WRITE

ABOUT THIS.

THIS IS VERY INTERESTING.

SHE'S LIVING IN HER CAR.

THE GUY'S NOT GOING TO LET HER

BACK IN THE HOUSE.

WHY DON'T YOU GUYS WRITE ABOUT

THIS?

(Laughter)

NO?

OKAY.

(Laughing)

I PUT IT IN MY NOTEBOOK, CUT

IT OUT.

SEE THIS ALL TAKES TIME, THIS

GESTATION, THIS PREGNANCY.

TWO YEARS LATER, I FINISHED

THIS OTHER NOVEL, AND I LOOK

AT IT.

I LOOK AT THE OLD NEWSPAPER

CLIPPING.

IT'S KIND OF WEATHERED NOW AND

I READ IT AGAIN AND I SEE THE

MAN IN REAL LIFE WHO BOUGHT

THIS HOUSE AND WASN'T SURE HE

WANTED TO SELL IT BACK AND WAS

UNDER NO LEGAL PRESSURE TO DO

SO.

HE HAD A MIDDLE EASTERN NAME,

AND I THINK IT WAS PROBABLY

ARABIC AND NOT PERSIAN, BUT

THIS COLONEL I HAD NEVER BEEN

ABLE TO FORGET IN THE

ELEVATOR, I THOUGHT, WELL,

WHAT IF HE BOUGHT THAT HOUSE?

AND IT WAS THAT QUESTION MARK,

THAT CURIOSITY THAT PROPELLED

ME TO WRITE THE WHOLE THING.

AND FOUR YEARS LATER, THERE'S

YOUR DEPRESSING BOOK.

THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

THAT'S IT.

I'M DONE.

(Applause)

LET'S TALK THOUGH.

THAT'S HOW IT STARTED.

WAS IT YOU, JULISSA, WHO ASKED

ME HOW IT STARTED?

MARIA.

THANK YOU.

I'LL PAY SOMEBODY 100 BUCKS TO

ASK THE FIRST QUESTION SO I

DON'T JUST STAND HERE LOOKING

AT YOU.

I'M KIDDING!

DO YOU REALLY HAVE A QUESTION?

(Inaudible question)

>> WHAT'S THE THEME OF THE

STORY?

(Laughter)

I NEED IT FOR MY FINAL PAPER.

>> Andre: GOOD QUESTION.

NEXT?

NO.

I'M GLAD YOU ASKED THAT,

JULISSA, BECAUSE IT'S A VERY

IMPORTANT POINT TO MAKE.

I WAS TALKING ABOUT THIS WITH

PROFESSOR SOMMERS TODAY.

BEATS ME.

NO, LET ME SAY THAT WITH GREAT

SINCERITY.

I THINK ONE OF THE JOYS OF

WRITING FICTION, FOR ME, I

KNOW ONE OF THE JOYS OF

WRITING FICTION FOR ME IS THIS

WHOLE DISCOVERY PROCESS.

AND I-- THE FEW TIMES IN MY

WRITING LIFE WHERE I'VE

ACTUALLY SET OUT TO SAY

SOMETHING WITH FICTION, I'VE

KILLED IT.

I THINK THAT IF INSTEAD YOU

SORT OF FREE-FALL INTO THESE

CHARACTERS IN THE SITUATION

AND YOU TRY TO GO INTO IT--

I'M NOT SAYING I'VE SUCCEEDED

AT THIS, BY THE WAY.

IT'S JUST I THINK THE

CHALLENGE.

AND YOU FREE-FALL INTO THEIR

SITUATION AND YOU'RE TRYING TO

BE AS HONEST AND SINCERE AND

COURAGEOUS ABOUT IT AS YOU

CAN, EVEN RECKLESS, YOU'LL END

UP SAYING THINGS YOU DIDN'T

KNOW YOU WERE TRYING TO SAY.

YOU KNOW, IT'S LIKE A

CONVERSATION.

YOU KNOW, YOU GO TO A MOVIE

AND YOU GO OUT FOR PIZZA

AFTERWARDS AND YOUR FRIEND

SAYS, HEY, I LOVED THAT MOVIE,

DIDN'T YOU?

AND ALL OF A SUDDEN YOUR

STOMACH STARTS TO DO A WEIRD

LITTLE THING.

YOUR FACE FEELS KIND OF FUNNY.

YOU SAY ACTUALLY, NO, I HATED

IT!

YOU HATED IT?

WHY DID YOU HATE IT?

AND YOUR FIRST RESPONSE IS, I

DON'T KNOW.

BECAUSE YOU DON'T NOT ALL YOU

KNOW IS YOUR BODY JUST TELLS

YOU YOU HATE IT!

AND SHE SAYS, WELL, WHY

THOUGH?

I LOVED IT.

WASN'T IT HAPPY?

WHATEVER.

YOU SAY NO, IT WASN'T.

AND I'LL TELL YOU WHY.

THEN ALL OF A SUDDEN YOU START

TO GIVE PIECES OF IT.

FIRST OF ALL HE NEVER WOULD

HAVE MARRIED HER.

SECOND OF ALL I HATED THE

MUSIC, REMINDS ME OF R.E.O.

SPEEDWAGON, WHICH REMINDS ME

OF MY BROTHER, AND I HATE HIM.

(Laughter)

THIRD OF ALL WHY CAN'T THEY

KEEP THE CAMERA STILL TODAY?

ON AND ON.

BEFORE YOU KNOW IT, GUYS,

YOU'RE DOING CRITICAL

ANALYSIS.

THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE DOING.

THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT.

BRITISH AUTHOR, E.M. FORSTER

SAID: "HOW DO I KNOW WHAT I

THINK UNTIL I SAY IT?

HOW DO I KNOW WHAT I THINK

UNTIL I SAY IT?"

SCHOLARS WHO TEACH BOOKS AND

THEY TALK ABOUT ALL THE THEMES

IN THEM, I AM WILLING-- I

BELIEVE THEY KNOW MORE ABOUT

IT THAN THE AUTHOR USUALLY

DOES.

LET ME TELL YOU A QUICK LITTLE

STORY ABOUT WILLIAM FAULKNER.

FAULKNER IS WALKING DOWN A

LITTLE TRAIL IN MISSISSIPPI ON

A HOT DAY.

HE LOOKS UP IN A TREE BECAUSE

SOMETHING CATCHES HIS EYE, AND

IT'S POOP-STAINED PEE-STAINED

UNDERWEAR OF A LITTLE CHILD.

I'M PURPOSELY NOT USING A

EUPHEMISM TO MAKE A WRITING

POINT.

I COULD SAY "SOILED" BUT THAT

WOULDN'T BE ACCURATE.

AND HE LOOKED UP, AND HE'S

JUST-- BILL, AND HE SAID, WOW,

HOW DID THAT GET THERE?

THAT'S ALL.

JUST "HOW'D THAT GET THERE?"

AND HE COULDN'T FORGET IT, FOR

WHATEVER REASON.

AND I DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH

LONGER AFTER THIS, I DON'T

KNOW HOW LONG THE GESTATION

PROCESS WAS IN HIM, BUT HE

WROTE HIS WAY INTO THAT IMAGE

OF THE UNDERWEAR IN THE TREE,

AND OUT OF THAT CAME THIS

RAGING VOICE, WHICH IS THE

FIRST VOICE IN HIS MASTERPIECE

"THE SOUND AND THE FURY," AND

IT CAME FROM POOP-STAINED,

PEE-STAINED UNDERWEAR IN A

TREE.

THAT'S NOT TO SAY THAT THAT

BOOK DOESN'T SAY ANYTHING.

IT'S CERTAINLY NOT JUST ABOUT

DIRTY UNDERWEAR OF A KID.

IT'S ABOUT A LOT.

BUT WHEN YOU ASK ME WHAT ARE

THE THEMES, I SINCERELY AM

MORE INTERESTED IN HEARING

WHAT YOU THINK THEY ARE

BECAUSE, LET ME TELL YOU, WHEN

I FIRST STARTED READING

REVIEWS OF THE BOOK, YOU KNOW,

IT WAS FASCINATING.

ONE TALKED ABOUT, YOU KNOW, A

MODERN LOVE STORY TURNED

UPSIDE DOWN.

WOW!

IT KIND OF IS KIND OF A MODERN

LOVE STORY.

YEAH, IT'S KIND OF TRUE.

ANOTHER ONE SAID "THE AMERICAN

DREAM GONE TERRIBLY AWRY."

SAID YEAH!

WOW!

DIDN'T IT?

YOU KNOW.

ANOTHER ONE IS ABOUT THE

IMMIGRANT EXPERIENCE.

WHAT I CAN TELL YOU GUYS-- AND

CLASH OF CULTURES.

NOT ONCE IN THE FOUR YEARS IT

TOOK TO WRITE THAT BOOK DID I

HAVE THE PHRASE "IMMIGRANT

EXPERIENCE" IN MY HEAD.

NOT ONCE DID I HAVE THE PHRASE

"AMERICAN DREAM" IN MY HEAD

AND NOT ONCE DID I THINK ABOUT

IT BEING A MODERN LOVE STORY

TURNED UPSIDE DOWN.

BUT THAT'S NOT TO SAY IT'S NOT

THERE.

THAT'S ALL I'M SAYING.

I THINK THAT READERS OFTEN

KNOW FAR MORE ABOUT THE BOOK

THAN THE WRITER.

AND FOR ME THE JOY OF WRITING

IS TO SEE IT AFTERWARDS.

THERE'S A GREAT ESSAY YOU

SHOULD READ IF YOU HAVEN'T BY

FLANNERY O'CONNOR CALLED "THE

NATURE IN AIMLESS FICTION."

EVERY LINE IS QUOTABLE, BUT

SHE SAYS: "A WRITER'S BELIEFS

ARE NOT WHAT SHE SEES BUT THE

LIGHT BY WHICH SH

SHE SEES."

I'LL TELL YOU WHAT.

YOU WANT TO LEARN SOMETHING

ABOUT YOURSELF, JUST READ WHAT

YOU WROTE.

I GAVE A TALK ABOUT TEN YEARS

AGO.

IT WAS ACTUALLY FROM MY

COLLECTION OF STORIES.

IT WAS A NICE TALK.

IT WAS A HIGH SCHOOL, AND THIS

YOUNG LADY STOOD UP AND SAID,

"Mr. DUBUS, I NOTICE THAT IN

YOUR STORIES ALL THE MOTHERS

ARE EITHER DEAD OR GONE."

OH, MY GOD.

I HADN'T NOTICED THAT.

SHE SAID, "WHY IS THAT?"

ALL OF A SUDDEN I FELT SO

NAKED, AND I WAS JUST...

(Chuckling)

I DON'T KNOW.

I HADN'T THOUGHT OF THAT

MYSELF.

BUT, YOU KNOW, MY MOTHER'S NOT

DEAD, THANK GOD.

BUT WE HAD A TOUGH CHILDHOOD.

WE LIVED IN POVERTY.

THERE WAS DIVORCE.

SHE WAS OVERWHELMED.

SHE HAD FOUR DEPRESSED

TEENAGERS ON THE STREETS.

SHE WASN'T REALLY THERE

EMOTIONALLY, AND IT MAKES

SENSE THAT ALL THOSE STORIES

FROM MY YOUTH WOULD BE FULL OF

NO MOTHERS.

THERE ARE NO FATHERS EITHER.

BUT I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT

UNTIL THIS 15-YEAR-OLD STUDENT

POINTED IT OUT TO ME AND

TAUGHT ME SOMETHING ABOUT

MYSELF.

(Laughing)

IT'S TRUE.

>> WE HAVE A QUESTION OVER

HERE.

>> RIGHT NOW, ARE YOU WRITING?

>> I'M WRITING A BOOK RIGHT

NOW.

SO FAR THERE'S 117 PAGES IN MY

BOOK SO I WAS WONDERING, YOU

KNOW, LIKE-- IT'S TAKEN A

YEAR-AND-A-HALF FOR ME TO GET

THIS FAR, SO I'M WONDERING

LIKE, YOU KNOW, HOW DO I DO

IT?

WHAT WOULD I DO?

WHAT WOULD I DO WITH THIS

BOOK?

>> Andre: GOD BLESS YOU.

IT'S EVAN OR WILL?

EVAN.

SO YOU WRITE A NOVEL, MAN.

GOOD FOR YOU.

IT'S A NOVEL?

POWER TO YOU.

WELL, I HEAR YOU ASKING TWO

QUESTIONS.

ONE YOU'RE ASKING HOW DO YOU

FINISH IT ON AN ARTISTIC

LEVEL, RIGHT?

AND THEN YOU'RE WONDERING,

ONCE THAT'S ALL DONE, IS THERE

ANY HOPE OF IT ACTUALLY BEING

A BOOK IN YOUR HANDS

PUBLISHED?

>> YEAH.

MORE LIKE WHEN I FINISH THE

BOOK FIRST, FIGURE HOW TO

FINISH IT.

>> Andre: IS IT MORE OF A

PUBLISHING QUESTION OR WRITING

QUESTION?

>> I GUESS A WRITING QUESTION.

>> Andre: FIRST OF ALL, I HAVE

TO GIVE YOU ALL THE CREDIT IN

THE WORLD FOR HAVING 117 PAGES

AFTER HOW MANY MONTHS?

JUST A FEW MONTHS?

A YEAR-AND-A-HALF?

>> ACTUALLY 18 MONTHS OR SO.

>> Andre: THAT'S FANTASTIC.

YOU KNOW, STUDIES HAVE SHOWN,

YOU GUYS, THE AVERAGE BOOK

TAKES TWO TO TEN YEARS TO

WRITE.

"MADAM FOGERTY" TOOK 7 YEARS.

"ANCIENT EVENINGS" TOOK 11

YEARS.

MY OWN LITTLE "HOUSE OF SAND

AND FOG," WHEN I STARTED THE

BOOK, MY WIFE WAS PREGNANT

WITH OUR FIRST BABY; AND WHEN

I FINISHED IT, WE HAD THREE

KIDS.

(Laughing)

IT TAKES SOME TIME, MAN!

BUT IT SOUNDS LIKE-- WE

CHATTED BRIEFLY BEFOREHAND,

AND I GET A VERY DISCIPLINED

VIBE FROM YOU.

I HAVE A HUNCH THAT YOU DON'T

NEED ENCOURAGEMENT ON

CONTINUING.

BUT I WILL TELL YOU THAT ALL

THOSE CLICHES ARE TRUE.

THERE'S A GREAT LINE FROM THE

WRITER E.L. DOCTOROW.

HE SAID, "WRITING A NOVEL IS

LIKE DRIVING AT NIGHT.

YOU CAN ONLY SEE AS FAR AS

YOUR HEADLIGHTS, BUT IF YOU

KEEP GOING, YOU'LL GET THERE."

I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, MAN.

I'M A HUGE BELIEVER IN

FINISHING EVERYTHING YOU

START.

I'VE GOT A NOVELLA COMING OUT

NEXT MONTH IN A QUARTERLY FROM

THE NORTHWEST, 50 PAGES CALLED

"MARLA."

IT'S ABOUT A WOMAN LOOKING FOR

LOVE WORKING IN A BANK.

NOBODY DIES.

NOTHING REALLY DRAMATIC

HAPPENS, THANK GOD!

I WAS TIRED FROM THAT ONE,

REALLY.

BUT THAT ONE TOOK ME TWO

YEARS.

AT ONE POINT IT WAS 240 PAGES

AND I HAD TO WRITE IT FIRST AS

THE BAD NOVEL IT WAS IN ORDER

TO KNOW I HAD TO CUT IT DOWN

TO A NOVELLA IT WANTED TO BE.

SEE I TRULY BELIEVE YOU CAN'T

FORCE THESE THINGS.

OFF AND ON I'VE TAUGHT

QUOTE-UNQUOTE NOVEL WRITING

CLASSES, AND ONE OF THE FIRST

THINGS I SAY IN CLASS IS,

REALLY, IT'S NOT REALLY A

NOVEL CLASS.

THEY LOOK AT ME LIKE THEY'VE

JUST GOTTEN ROBBED.

I SAY NO.

IF YOU'RE WRITING A NOVEL,

WE'LL TALK ABOUT THE NOVEL,

BUT I TRULY BELIEVE THAT YOU

CAN NO MORE FORCE A PIECE OF

WRITING TO BE A NOVEL THAN YOU

CAN FORCE YOUR KID TO BE A

BALLET DANCER IF HE WANTS TO

BE SOMETHING ELSE.

IT'S GOING TO BE WHAT IT'S

GOING TO BE.

SO, BUDDY, JUST KEEP WRITING.

GET IF YOUR DAILY SESSIONS NO

MATTER HOW YOU FEEL, NO PATTER

HOW TIRED YOU ARE, NO MATTER

HOW LITTLE TIME YOU HAVE.

I WROTE "HOUSE OF SAND AND

FOG" IN MY PARKED CAR.

I DIDN'T HAVE AN OFFICE.

I WROTE IN A GRAVEYARD ABOUT A

MILE FROM MY HOUSE.

I WOULD WORK IN THE MORNING.

I WOULD WORK LATE AT NIGHT,

AND YOU KNOW, YOU LOOK BACK,

AND, YOU KNOW-- IF YOU GET A

PAGE A DAY, EVEN THREE-PAGES A

WEEK, THAT'S 156 PAGES A YEAR.

YOU KNOW, THAT'S 450 PAGES IN

THREE YEARS.

THAT'S A BIG BOOK.

AND YOU LOOK BACK AND YOU TYPE

IT AND YOU EDIT IT.

IT'S GOING TO GO BEAUTIFULLY.

AND IT WILL TELL YOU WHAT IT

WANTS TO BE.

THE PUBLISHING PART, YOU AND I

SHOULD TALK PRIVATELY SO WE

CAN HAVE MORE TIME AND FEEL

FREE TO ASK ME AFTER THE TALK.

I ENCOURAGE YOU NEVER TO THINK

ABOUT THAT WHILE YOU'RE

WRITING BECAUSE YOU RUN THE

RISK, I THINK-- IF YOU THINK

ABOUT PUBLISHING WHILE YOU'RE

WRITING, YOU RUN THE RISK OF

BEING A WHORE FRANKLY.

NOT YOU PERSONALLY, BUT ANY OF

US.

I THINK YOU RUN THE RISK OF

JUST WRITING FOR THE MARKET,

YOU KNOW.

I'M TRYING TO FORGET THAT

OPRAH LIKED MY OTHER BOOK.

I TRY NOT TO EVER THINK ABOUT

OPRAH OR ANYBODY.

BUT THE TRUTH IS I THINK OUR

JOB IS JUST TO BE THESE

CHARACTERS.

WE DON'T EVEN-- WE CAN'T EVEN

THINK ABOUT OURSELVES.

IT'S JUST ABOUT THEM.

AND I THINK IF YOU PUT

EVERYTHING INTO THEM, GOOD

THINGS WILL HAPPEN.

>> THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I DO.

>> Andre: GOOD MAN.

THAT'S ALL YOU'VE GOT TO DO

AND ONE DAY THAT BOOK WILL

FIND A HOME.

THERE'S A GREAT LINE BY THE

NOVEL CALLED "A SUN STORY" IN

WHICH SHE DEFINES SINCERITY.

AND ONE CHARACTER LOOKED AT

ANOTHER.

SHE SAYS IT OCCURS TO HER THAT

SINCERITY IS NEVER HAVING AN

IDEA OF ONESELF.

RIGHT?

SO LET'S SAY, EVAN, YOU AND I

ARE ACTORS IN A PIECE.

WE'RE DOING OUR THING.

WE KNOW OUR LINES BACKWARD AND

FORWARD.

WE ARE SO IN IT, WE'RE

FORGETTING WE'RE IN A PLAY,

RIGHT?

WE'VE TRANSCENDED OURSELVES.

THOSE ARE MOMENTS PEOPLE PAY

MONEY FOR.

YOU WANT TO SEE ACTORS LOSE

THEMSELVES IN THE ROLE.

BUT WHY IS IT, YOU GUYS, THE

DIRECTORS DON'T TELL THE

ACTORS THE NIGHT THE CRITICS

ARE IN THE AUDIENCE?

WHY DO YOU THINK?

WHAT'S THAT?

GO AHEAD, JULISSA.

MARIA?

MY TWO NEW FRIENDS.

I'LL TELL YOU.

YOU ALREADY KNOW.

SOMEBODY SAID IT.

WHY DOESN'T THE DIRECTOR TELL

THE ACTORS THE NIGHT THE

CRITICS ARE IN THE AUDIENCE

WHEN THEY'RE PERFORMING?

SO THEY DON'T GET NERVOUS IN

WHAT WAY?

NERVOUS HOW?

THAT'S RIGHT.

THEY START TO GET

SELF-CONSCIOUS, RIGHT?

WHAT IF THE CRITIC IS A GUY

WHO HATES WHEN ACTORS POINT,

AND I'M POINTING TO EVAN.

OH, HE'S OUT THERE!

HE'S GOING TO WRITE ME A BAD

REVIEW!

I'M GOING TO BE SO

EMBARRASSED!

I'M DYING UP HERE.

OH, SHIT!

(Laughter)

AND NOW I'M ANDRE WATCHING

ANDRE ACT INSTEAD OF BEING IN

THE MOMENT OF ACTING.

SO FORGET THE PUBLISHING PART,

MAN.

JUST KEEP DOING WHAT YOU'RE

DOING.

BEAT THESE PEOPLE AND THEN

E-MAIL ME.

WE'LL DEAL WITH IT IN THREE

YEARS.

I MEAN IT.

YES?

>> ALL RIGHT.

I HAVE TWO QUICK QUESTIONS.

IN GENERAL, ONE KIND OF BROAD.

IN LESTER'S LITTLE SECTION OF

THE STORY, HE HAS A

PERSONIFICATION OF REGRET THAT

YOU GO INTO A LOT, AND-- FROM

THE REST OF THE WRITING STYLE.

I WONDERED IF ANYTHING IN

PARTICULAR INSPIRED IT.

AND MY SECOND QUESTION IS WHAT

WAS YOUR PURPOSE IN WRITING SO

MANY SEMI GRAPHIC SEX SCENES

IN YOUR BOOK?

(Laughter)

>> Andre: NOW I'M WICKED

EMBARRASSED.

NO.

THAT'S A VERY GOOD QUESTION.

WHAT'S YOUR NAME?

>> AVERY.

>> Andre: AVERY, I'LL GET YOU

LATER.

NO, I'M KIDDING.

IT'S A GREAT QUESTION.

I'M GLAD YOU ASKED IT BECAUSE

I'VE GOTTEN SOME NASTY LETTERS

FROM SWEET PEOPLE AROUND THE

WORLD ON THOSE, NASTY AS IN

ANGRY, NOT THE OTHER.

(Laughter)

I'LL DOT FIRST ONE AND THEN

THE SEX THING.

YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT THE FACT

THAT THE COLONEL'S IN FIRST

PERSON PRESENT, KATHY'S IN

FIRST PERSON PAST AND WE GET

THIS MORE AUTHORIAL VOICE WITH

LESTER?

>> RIGHT.

THERE'S A PARTICULAR THING

WITH REGRET, LIKE CAPITAL

LETTER, KNOCKING ON THE DOORS.

>> Andre: A LITTLE OVER THE

TOP.

>> A LITTLE BIT.

>> Andre: YEAH.

(Laughter)

NEXT QUESTION.

NO, YOU'RE RIGHT.

WELL, YOU KNOW, I'M GLAD YOU

POINT THAT OUT.

BECAUSE I'M NOT SURE IT WORKS.

THE HONEST ANSWER IS, WHEN I

GOT TO THE PART-- AND IF YOU

HAVEN'T READ THE STORY I WON'T

GIVE THE WHOLE THING AWAY BUT

THE PART WHERE KATHY'S NOW IN

THE HOUSE AND THERE'S JUST

THIS QUIET PLACE.

I THINK FOR ABOUT THREE DAYS I

JUST KIND OF STARED AT THE

NOTEBOOKS.

I WRITE LONGHAND PENCIL.

AND I WAS WAITING.

THAT'S A GREAT LINE, TOO, FROM

FLANNERY O'CONNOR.

SHE SAYS "WRITING IS WAITING,"

AND SHE DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE

WAITING FOR INSPIRATION.

SHE MEANS YOU SIT THERE AND

SOMETIMES YOU STARE AT THE

DAMN THING FOR DAYS.

AND THEN I BEGAN TO SEE

SOMETHING.

WHAT I SAW WAS HE WAS IN THE

CABIN WAITING FOR HER AND

DIDN'T KNOW WHERE SHE WAS.

SO I STARTED WRITING HIS-- I

GUESS I'M GOING TO HAVE HIM AS

A POINT OF VIEW, AND I STARTED

TO WRITE HIS POINT OF VIEW.

I SAID, WELL, ALL THE OTHERS

ARE IN FIRST PERSON, AND IT

WAS JUST TERRIBLE!

IT WAS CONTRIVED AND WOODEN

AND JUST SOUNDED LIKE A BAD

COWBOY FROM A BAD COWBOY

MOVIE.

AND THEN THIRD PERSON CAME,

AND INTUITIVELY I FELT HIM AND

I FOUND HIM.

HE WAS STILL KIND OF DISTANT

BUT I WENT WITH IT.

AS FAR AS REGRET STILL, I

DON'T KNOW.

I KNOW MY WHOLE WRITING LIFE

SO FAR I TEND TO WRITE VERY

SPARE AND VERY TIGHT AND VERY

TO THE BONE.

I THINK I'VE GOTTEN A LITTLE

TIRED OF IT AND I WAS TRYING A

NEW STYLE.

ACTUALLY I'VE GOT A COUPLE

NOVELLAS AFTER THAT BOOK.

THERE'S A LOT MORE OF IT SO

YOU PROBABLY WON'T LIKE IT BUT

I ENJOYED THE CHANGE.

THE SEX STUFF, I'M GLAD YOU

ASKED.

I HAD FOUR MORE SEX SCENES IN

THAT BOOK THAT GOT CUT.

(Laughter)

AS FAR AS I KNOW, I'M NOT A

PERVERT.

SEX SCENES ARE ACTUALLY VERY

HARD TO WRITE.

THEY'RE VERY HARD TO WRITE

BECAUSE, AS YOU KNOW, YOU WALK

THAT FINE LINE BETWEEN BEING A

LITTLE TOO ROMANTIC OR A

LITTLE TOO PORNOGRAPHIC.

I'M HEARING YOU SORT OF

SUGGEST THEY'RE A LITTLE--

FALL IN THE PORNOGRAPHIC SIDE

OR A LITTLE TOO GRAPHIC.

>> IT JUST SORT OF-- THE

REDUNDANT SIDE.

I DON'T KNOW.

>> Andre: YOU SHOULD HAVE READ

THE FIRST SCRIPT.

WELL, HERE'S WHY I DEFEND THEM

AND I'M CURIOUS WHAT YOU

THINK, AVERY.

I PERSONALLY DON'T-- IT WASN'T

A PLAN.

JUST AS I WAS WRITING I BEGAN

TO FEEL MORE AND MORE LESTER

AND KATHY.

I DON'T THINK THEY LOVE EACH

OTHER.

I DON'T THINK THEY'RE IN LOVE.

I THINK MAYBE POSSIBLY THEY

COULD BE.

MY OWN EXPERIENCE WHEN I'M

WRITING FROM THEIR POINT OF

VIEW, JUST FEELS A VERY

ADDICTIVE SORT OF NEEDY SEXUAL

ACTIVITY.

AND I ACTUALLY, AS THE WRITER,

HAD TO WRITE THOSE SCENES TO

FIND OUT WHAT IT WAS LIKE TO

BE THERE IN THAT MOMENT, AND

IT JUST FELT LIKE NEEDY SEX TO

ME, WHICH IS WHY I LEFT THEM

IN.

YOU'LL NOTICE THE SCENES-- THE

INTIMATE SCENES WITH THE

MARRIED COUPLE ARE NOT NEARLY

AS GRAPHIC.

THEY'RE ACTUALLY MORE

POETICALLY RENDERED.

AND I DID THAT BECAUSE IT'S

NONE OF OUR BUSINESS.

YOU SEE I THINK, TO ME THAT'S

WHY IT'S NOT GRATUITOUS

ALTHOUGH YOU'RE CERTAINLY

ENTITLED TO YOUR OPINION.

I THINK, IF YOU'VE GOT A

HEALTHY MARRIAGE, THE

CHARACTERS ARE IN A HEALTHY

MARRIAGE, MAKE LOVE HOWEVER

MANY TIMES A WEEK THEY DO,

IT'S NOT REALLY OUR BUSINESS

TO GET INTO BED WITH THEM.

THAT'S GRATUITOUS.

IF, HOWEVER, I SUBMIT TO YOU

THE HUSBAND THINKS HE'S GAY

AND HAS BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT

FOR ABOUT 17 YEARS, AND ON

THEIR 17th ANNIVERSARY SHE'S

GOT THE CANDLES LIT AND

JACUZZI GOING AND THE WINE AND

SOME LUTHER VANDROSS PLAYING,

I'M AFRAID WE'VE GOT TO GET

RIGHT INTO BED WITH THEM

BECAUSE IT'S TOO IMPORTANT AND

SIGNIFICANT, RIGHT?

AND TO ME THAT'S WHY I KEPT

IT.

I THOUGHT IT WAS IMPORTANT TO

SEE THAT THIS IS-- IT'S NOT

LOVEMAKING.

I THINK IT'S MORE SEX AS

MEDICINE.

>> THANK YOU.

>> Andre: THANK YOU.

>> I HAVE A QUESTION HERE.

>> OKAY.

FOR THE WHOLE THING YOU SAID

AT THE BEGINNING, LIKE--

SOMETHING LIKE THE ARTIST--

THE WHOLE ARTISTIC THING OF

THE TRUTH.

WELL, IT SEEMS LIKE YOU

UNDERSTAND IT BUT YOU DON'T

LEARN FROM YOUR MISTAKES BY

SAYING THAT.

FROM THAT WHOLE EXCERPT YOU

JUST PROVED TO ME THAT.

>> DID I TELL YOU GUYS, WAS I

SERIOUS?

>> I WAS SERIOUS.

>> Andre: WHAT'S YOUR NAME, BY

THE WAY?

>> DAVE SORENSEN.

>> Andre: HEY, DAVE.

GO AHEAD.

>> YEAH.

WELL, FOR THE-- OKAY.

FOR-- LIKE PEOPLE THAT KNOW

ALL THESE LITTLE MINUTE

DETAILS THAT YOU'RE SAYING THE

THINGS THAT YOU DO WRONG

BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW THE

WHOLE-- CALIFORNIA, YOU DON'T

KNOW THAT AREA SO YOU CAN'T DO

THAT.

I CAN'T DEFEND THAT BECAUSE

I'M NOT FROM THIS.

BUT I CAN DO IT FOR MORE THE

MILITARY SIDE BECAUSE I KNOW

THOSE STORIES AND THAT POINT

OF VIEW THAT IT ISN'T ALL BAD

BECAUSE THAT'S THE WAY THE

PERSPECTIVE IS GOING, FROM

THAT LITTLE SHORT EXCERPT.

>> Andre: YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT

THE ESSAY NOW?

>> I KNOW MORE INFORMATION ON,

MORE FLAWS.

>> Andre: SURE, GO AHEAD.

>> I'VE HEARD THINGS ABOUT

GOOD THINGS HAPPENING OVER IN

IRAQ, AND YOU JUST DON'T HAVE

A POINT OF VIEW ON THAT

BECAUSE YOU ONLY TOOK IT FROM

ONE PERSON, AND USUALLY THE

MORE TRAUMATIC EVENTS COME

THROUGH.

THAT'S WHAT READERS WILL

REMEMBER.

WHY DON'T YOU JUST GO TO OTHER

PEOPLE SHE MIGHT HAVE KNOWN

AND ASKED OUTSIDE OF THAT?

LIKE GET MORE RESEARCH?

>> Andre: YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY

RIGHT, DAVE.

AND I WOULD SAY THAT THAT

WOULD BE A BOOK-LENGTH

PROJECT.

THAT WOULD BE A GOOD BOOK.

THE EDITORIAL ASSIGNMENT FOR

THIS PIECE WAS TO ACTUALLY--

DELAY THE STATISTIC IS THAT 6

OUT OF 10 RETURNING SOLDIERS

FROM IRAQ ARE ALREADY SHOWING

SIGNS OF POSTTRAUMATIC STRESS

DISORDER.

SO THE EDITORIAL STAFF, WITH

HELP FROM SOME PSYCHOLOGISTS

IN BOSTON, WERE INTERESTED IN

DOING A STORY ON SOMEONE

EXHIBITING THOSE SIGNS.

IF YOU READ THE WHOLE PIECE

THERE'S A LOT MORE OF THAT.

IT WAS CLEAR THIS YOUNG LADY'S

ALREADY STARTED SHOWING SIGNS

OF POSTTRAUMATIC STRESS

DISORDER, SO THAT WAS THE

FOCUS WHICH YOU WOULD HAVE GOT