Friday, July 17, 2015

A Conversation with Nickolas Butler


This interview first appeared in summer issue of Aqueous, a literary magazine for the Lake Superior region. 

I first met Nickolas Butler at The Spot, a bar and yoga studio—only in Wisconsin, right?—located on the east side of Ashland. 

Butler’s best buds, Josh and Charmaine Swan, own the joint. Josh is a wooden boat builder; Charmaine manages the yoga studio and bar. Plus they have two young boys, the youngest one rides on Charmaine’s back in a sling, like a baby baboon. 

Nick and Regina live on sixteen acres of land near Eau Claire, next to a buffalo farm, with their two children. Nick is an author, Regina an attorney.

The story goes that when Butler was still humping it between Arden Hills, Minnesota, and the University of Iowa Writer’s Workshop, and before Josh and Charmaine had opened the doors to the bar—the four friends all talked about how Butler would someday read his debut novel at their new bar. 

They all loved Nick but they had no idea how much critics would agree.  Released in 2014, the New York Times called Shotgun Lovesongs “impressively original.” And the awards starting stacking up—even the French got in on the act, inviting him to Paris and handing him the Prix Page/America. The book has been translated into nine languages and has become an international best seller. 

The August 2014 reading at The Spot was a celebratory family affair. Butler sat with Regina—their two young children were hanging with a babysitter and the Swan boys in the adjoining apartment—his mom, and other family and friends. 

The Spot bar was the most appropriate setting I could imagine for a reading of Shotgun Lovesongs, a story about friends and family and small town Wisconsin life with a few colorful scenes set at the local bar. 

Sipping on a pint of Central Waters Glacial Trail IPA, Butler stood before an enthusiastic northwoods crowd reading and answering questions. He was funny, frank, thoughtful, and open to all inquiries. I’ve seen Butler speak a few times since. And this is who he is: a regular guy, a family guy, who lives in Eau Claire and has a passion and talent for telling stories. 

I tried to meet with Butler when I was in Eau Claire to talk about his recently released collection of short stories, Beneath the Bonfire, but he had sick kids that night—and was coming off a reading bender at Prairie Lights Bookstore in Iowa—so we did the most expedient thing, we passed emails back and forth. Enjoy. 



Julie: I just got done reading some high praise for Beneath the Bonfire—“the literary champion of the Wisconsin story,” “the Midwestern bard I’ve been waiting for all my life,”  “conjures the craft of Denis Johnson’s Jesus’ Son” and on it goes. You must feel great. Congratulations.

Nick: Thanks. Yes, I'm very proud of Beneath the Bonfire and proud that the collection seems to be resonating with readers who don't normally like short stories. But I also feel a pretty heavy pressure to produce the next book, too.  And I just finished reading Rebecca Lee's collection, Bobcat and Other Stories, which I found to be one of the best collections I've read in years.  It made me feel quite inept, as all good writing does.

Julie: Isn’t that the way it goes. Just as you start feeling fine about yourself, you read something that just knocks you on your ass—and suddenly you just want to crawl under the covers. 

Nick: Rebecca Lee's stories are so smart, so cosmopolitan, so graceful. When I think about a reader comparing her stuff to mine, well, I'm afraid that my stories seem utterly knuckle-dragging.

Julie: Beneath the Bonfires begins with a quote from Cormac McCarthy. I've heard you say that you read All the Pretty Horses in high school—mostly to spite your English teacher, right? Talk more about the influence of McCarthy on a 17-year-old, what you learned from reading him, and your reason for quoting him.

Nick: I remember reading that exact quote as a 17- or 18-year-old kid, and simply feeling a resonance. Right now, for example, I am furious with our state government, and I reflect on times in my own life when I've been politically meek or apologetic, and now I see that meekness is some situations is actually just polite weakness, and I don't like feeling weak. I think McCarthy is interested in good and evil, strength and weakness, and ultimately what is to become of humanity, our species. I've always envied how he can write such dark, dark stories but always preserve some ember of light, of hope.  As a stylist, he is almost without peer, but he's also one of our best storytellers and thinkers.  He changed the way I encountered literature.

Julie: I just read your poetic response to the Wisconsin State Assembly’s decision to drug test Welfare recipients and Walker’s comment that, “We need people who are drug free." To quote you: “Give me your drug test and I will fail it, every fucking time because my life is sad, so I get high./I will fail your drug test.” Nothing meek there. Where does your newfound political voice come from? Do you feel an obligation to speak up for the Wisconsin Idea?

Nick: I don't know whether or not I feel obligated to speak up for the Wisconsin Idea; maybe. But I certainly feel obligated to speak up for my children, who are just now entering Wisconsin public schools. I also graduated from UW-Madison, and I think if you're a graduate of the UW system you should be irate. This is our commonwealth. This is a something generations of Wisconsinites across the political spectrum have worked together to build. You don't just disassemble something this grand and beautiful because of one man's presidential aspirations. That's villainous.

Julie: You’ve demonstrated enviable range—novel, short stories, poetry, and screen plays. When you sit down to write, do you know whether you are writing a short story, poem, novel, or screenplay. 

Nick: For the most part, yes.  I'm just trying to find the best medium to tell a story, that's all. Locking into one single discipline or genre doesn't seem (for me at least) to be always the most effective tact at telling a compelling story or digging into the truth.

Julie: Male friendships and male betrayal are at the center of Shotgun Lovesongs and Beneath the Bonfire. What about this idea or subject appeals to you?

Nick: I think I'm interested in friendship in general, not just male friendship.  I am very blessed to have led a life full of strong friendships and I don't think it's a surprise that my fiction should sort of mirror that. 

Julie: And of course, Wisconsin is always there. 

Nick: Yes, well, I live here. I never put much thought into my settings—it just sort of came out naturally. I imagine Thomas McGuane doesn't spend much time thinking about situating his work in Montana, for example. That's just where he is, where his stories come from. 

Julie: What advice do you give to young writers on getting started?

Nick: Read. Read everything. Read outside of your so-called comfort zone. Read foreign authors, older books, poetry, non-fiction—everything. Read mysteries to understand how plot is constructed. Read poetry for word-by-word attention to language. Read challenging books. Don't quit on books. Read, read, read. Don't worry about being a twenty-something wunderkind. 

 Julie: How did you know that you could make a living writing?

Nick: The honest answer of course, is that I didn't know. I'm very fortunate that my book sold in the manner that it did. I'm very fortunate to have an amazing agent.  

Julie:  What about writers wanting to get published who live in places far, far away from New York City, like Eau Claire? 

Nick: There are probably thousands, maybe tens of thousands of wannabe writers in New York City who don't have agents, so I wouldn't worry too much about where you live. You should live where you want to live.  The thing I tell writers who are worried about getting agents is this: The only thing you can control is your own writing. The quality of your own writing. If your writing is bad, I don't think an agent will find you. If your writing is very, very, good, I think there is a very good chance you'll be discovered. But you have to be very, very good. And if your writing isn't that good right now, you need to figure out how to improve it. Always be trying to get better. And worry about yourself, not some stranger in New York City.

Julie: Name the last three great books you read.

Nick: Bobcat and Other Stories by Rebecca Lee; The Enchanted by Rene Denfeld; and  Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk by Ben Fountain. All of them, amazing.

Julie: What are you reading right now?

Nick: This morning I was reading the Eau Claire Leader-Telegram.

Julie: Do you get a print edition in the mail?

Nick: Yes, it's a really great local paper.  We're fortunate to have it. 

Julie What are you working on next?

Nick: A new novel. I think it's set in northern Wisconsin at a Boy Scout Camp. We'll see...

No comments: