I have never read
any of Lee Smith’s novels, but I have a read a few minor things written by
her. I am not sure why this is, but when
I received an advanced readers copy of her memoir, Dimestore, -- her first work of non-fiction -- I decided to
discover what I was missing. And I was
missing a lot! She is a clever, smooth,
and interesting writer, and this memoir became so much more than a story of her
growing up and becoming a writer. The
first part of the book covers that, but the later chapters examine the writer
in herself and how a reader can apply that to her daily writings.
According to the
dust jacket, Lee – who lives in Hillsborough, North Carolina -- began to write
stories at the age of nine and sold them for a nickel each. As an adult she has 17 works of fiction and has
won numerous awards, including “an Academy Award in Fiction from the American
Academy of Arts and Letters. Her novel The Last Girls was a New York Times best seller and won the
Southern Book Critics Circle Award. She
talked a lot about this book, and I think I will get a copy of that novel next.
Lee talks about her
early desire to be a writer, and the autobiographical nature of one of her
characters. She writes, “Although I
Don’t usually write autobiographical fiction, the main character in one of my
short stories sounds suspiciously like the girl I used to be: ‘More than
anything else in the world, I wanted to be a writer. I didn’t want to learn to write, of
course. I just wanted to be a writer,
and I often picture myself poised at the foggy edge of a cliff someplace in the
south of France, wearing a cape, drawing furiously on a long cigarette,
hollow-cheeked and haunted. I had been
romantically dedicated to the grand idea of “being a writer” ever since I could
remember” (63). Lee was lucky to have
discovered her passion so early and had the grit and the talent to carry
through to success.
Lee tells a story
about meeting an elderly woman who loved to write, and, as Smith found out, she
had stumbled on a truly talented writer.
One day, they went for a walk in rural Virginia. She writes, “‘Here honey,’ she said, leaning
over to pick up a buck eye as we walked back beneath the sunset sky. ‘Put this in your pocket. It’s good luck. And get your head out of them clouds,
honey. Pay attention.’ We went back to sit on her porch, talking to
everybody that came by. We had potato
chips and Moon Pies for dinner. // I’ve been trying to pay attention ever
since, realizing that writing is not about fame, or even publication. It is not about exalted language, abstract
themes, or the escapades of glamorous people.
It is about our own real world and our own real lives and understanding
what happens to us day by day, it is about playing with children and listening
to old people” (91).
This pleasant memoir
is as enjoyable as a memoir can be. If
you are interested in all the ins and outs for the art and craft of writing,
Lee Smith’s Dimestore, is a great
place to begin your own journey. We all
have stories we share all the time. Get
yourself a pencil or a pen or a computer, sit down, and write. 5 stars
--Chiron, 8/1/16
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