Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Full disclosure

No big surprise, but I have a pretty big most embarrassing moment.  For me, anyway.  What might be surprising, is that this one has to do with books.  Or rather, an author.  I have actually told some friends about this horrifying experience, but I have mostly kept it under wraps.

It has taken me a few years to get over it.

I am a big fan of Pat Conroy.  I have read most of his books (The Prince of Tides, Lords of Discipline, The Great Santini, Beach Music, and probably my favorite, The Water is Wide).  I have an affection for southern writers, I don't know what it is, but something about the stories are magnetic to me.  Stories of families exposed and at their most fragile and yet, deeply tied together.  In college, I did an independent study on William Faulkner (the reigning king of Southern Lit in my humble opinion), and while the style is different, the themes are similar.   I'll just bet that Pat Conroy has never been compared to Faulkner before...as I am typing these words, I can feel the earth shift  (hello, all six of you readers!!).  Anyhoo, I digress, get thee to a second hand store or library and pick up one of those aforementioned Conroy books...you won't regret it.

So, and here is the full disclosure part.  Quite a few years ago, probably 15 or so, when I was young, naive and foolish (that's my excuse, and I am sticking to it!), I heard that Mr. Conroy was going to be giving a book reading at a local college and everything was dropped and my sister, a friend and I hightailed it to hear him.  It was great.  Pat Conroy is an amazing story-teller.  He read a little from his new release (Beach Music) and then told some of the funniest stories I have ever heard.  I laughed so hard I cried.  He was charming and funny and just the way I thought he should be.  We could go up after the reading to have our copies of his book signed and I certainly did.  I was working at the time at a very small publishing company and still had aspirations of becoming a writer one day and when it was my turn to get my book signed I told him all of the above and mentioned that I would be heading down to his neck of the woods the next day (Columbia, SC).  We hit it off!!  When he heard that I was heading down to the good ol' south, he said, "You should look up my brother!!"  And, since Pat was now my bestest bud in the whole world, I said "Yes!," and,  "Of course!"  

Here is the moment where I hang my head.  I hadn't totally grasped the whole lovely notion of pleasantries, I was just a youngster, you see.  I flew down to Columbia, South Carolina, the next day.  And because I was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Conroy did not, in fact, actually intend for me to find his brother and hang out with him, I waited until the last day of our visit to look up Mr. Conroy's brother in the phone book.  But, I felt a moral obligation, so I felt I must call him!  I promised!  And, as I dialed the number and a stranger's voice answered the phone, I realized what a dope I was.   But, it was too late.  I had Pat Conroy's brother on the other end of the line and I couldn't just hang up on him.  So, I tried to chat a minute, let him know I had promised his famous brother that I would call him up and then things really took a turn for the worst when he strongly hinted that he needed to go because his WIFE and he had plans that night (he did emphasize WIFE, for goodness sake).  He thought I was hitting on him, maybe even using him to get to his brother (did I mention that Pat Conroy is going to be 65 this year?...that makes him 27 years older than me.)!!  I hung up the phone quickly just as I noticed my husband standing in the doorway of our hotel room shaking his head and vividly grimacing. He didn't know he had married an author groupie.   I hated that he had to find out that way.

It is a wonder I could ever pick up another book written by Pat Conroy.  And while a little teensy bit painful, not enough to deter me from a good story.  He has just recently (as of August '09), come out with a new book, South of Broad.  I'll let you know how that goes.