BAMBOO SONNET by Karen Miller

MANDY INTRODUCES JULY’S FEATURED AUTHOR, MICHAEL SPAKE

I’m very excited to introduce you to this month’s featured author. I had the pleasure of meeting Michael through his writing when he submitted a story to WELL READ in 2023 and then again in 2024. When I heard he was working on a novel I knew it was going to be one I’d want to share with our readers. Let’s jump in!

Your novel, Life Close to the Bone, is fiction but are there some “true” stories weaved within the pages?

Yes, many of the stories in the novel are drawn from my own experiences growing up. While some are exaggerated, all the tennis stories and tournament locations are true. I hoped they’d resonate with others from the USTA circuit, and I’m grateful several former tennis colleagues have reached out to say the book brought back fond memories.

The fictional town of Shoals is based on my hometown, Anderson, South Carolina. It’s a place full of fond memories, and I wanted to honor both the town and those experiences in the story.

What part of the book was the most fun to write?

The fun was including anecdotes about my family of six. Mary Lucia and I celebrate 30 years of marriage this year, and our kids—Henry (23), twins Katie and Mary Clare (20), and Vivian (15)—keep things lively. Our home is full of daily comedy, and it was a joy to share some of the moments we all laugh about.

I also enjoyed writing about nature. While writing, I took a year-long course with Janisse Ray, Journey of Place, which deepened my appreciation for the outdoors. Exploring the connection between place, history, culture, and ecology gave me a stronger sense of belonging.

Finally, I loved including stories about my wonderful grandparents. At book signings, I often bring a projector to share photos of them and hometown landmarks featured in the novel.

What was your hardest scene to write, and why?

Pretty much everything about my mother. My biggest fear in writing Life Close to the Bone was that it might come off as just complaints about my adolescence. Yes, my mother and I had our battles—she mastered the guilt card, and I kept coming back for seconds—but that felt typical of growing up in the South in the ’70s and ’80s.

In addition, I think this dynamic blended well with my purpose of writing a story that included references to the old textile mills that once covered upstate South Carolina. In the prequel to Life Close to the Bone, which I am currently drafting, there is a part that reads:

Today, what is left of the crumbling mills and its culture, continue to haunt the generations of Lintheads, those once struggling farmers like my family, who had no choice but to answer the mill’s siren call. Like those same broken bloodlines, my family still bears the inescapable stain of being a Linthead and having it stitched into the fabric of our being. No matter how fiercely we labor to sever this burdensome thread the old voices of disparagement still echo still, hollow and stubborn, in the marrow of our remembering.

My mother, although both sides of my family grew up and worked in local textile mills, appeared to hold a desire centered on forgetting/“erasing” her family’s participation with the mill, its history, and especially its memories. At the same time, towns appear to have done the same. They appear to have forgotten the mill’s history and its people as old mill buildings lie in crumbles covered in weeds. In my hometown alone there are at least three mills like this – one being the Appleton Mill where my paternal grandparents, Henry “Grinny” and Vivian Spake, lived and worked their entire lives.

I think the stories of the mill and the people who worked and lived there should never be forgotten. I wanted my mother to serve as a vessel for this message about never forgetting and understanding.

Finally, I also thought this mother/son relationship emphasized another theme of redemption, understanding the past and how it will always be a part of you.

In summary, I truly wanted the dynamics of the protagonist’s relationship with his mother to be part of a larger theme about the past and how it is always a part of us.

What did you edit out of this book?

I cut about 40,000 words, which I’m now using to write a prequel titled Lint and Forgotten Destitution. It begins with the mill’s arrival in Shoals and spans from 1895 to 1942, offering a historical perspective. The prequel ties into Life Close to the Bone through the story of my mother and her fictional adoption.

In summary, I edited this out because it created more timelines than I could mentally handle.

How long did it take you to write this book?

I started in 2019 when I read Tell Me a Story: My Life with Pat Conroy. Because I attended the Citadel (1990-94) at a time when the school and Pat were at odds, I had never read Pat Conroy’s novels other than the Water is Wide when I was in high school. My mother—who wasn’t an avid literary reader—had nevertheless devoured all of Conroy’s books. She loved Pat.

Reading Cassandra King’s memoir stirred something in me, especially Pat Conroy’s words: “Everyone has a story.” In 2021, I visited the Pat Conroy Literary Center in Beaufort, where I had the pleasure of meeting Cassandra and Pat’s sister, Kathy Harvey. A year later, Kathy emailed me with a message that felt like a jolt—an insistence that I begin calling myself a writer. She recommended The Great Yes, her brother Tim Conroy’s essay in Our Prince of Scribes. I had the pleasure of meeting Tim at his reading for his second book of poetry, No True Route. Around that same time, I met novelist Bren McClain, who offered simple but profound advice: “You’ve got to put yourself in the story.”

How did you come up with the title for your book?

The University of North Carolina has a wonderful project, Oral Histories of the South. Interviews of textile mill workers going back to those you worked in the early 1900s can be found online in the section titled, “The Industrialization of Noth Carolina’s Piedmont Region.” In one of those interviews someone made the comment that they survived by living life close to the bone. When I researched the phrase I found many idioms about living with something uncomfortable, something emotionally tense, something direct and maybe harsh, stripping away the superficial. I thought it fit many of the themes I was attempting to explain and provided some intrigue that may persuade people to pick up the book and explore it.

What was an early experience where you learned that language had power? What is the first book that made you cry?

The answer to both questions is high school, when I read Pat Conroy’s The Water Is Wide. The emotional range was powerful—one moment I was laughing, the next crying. For me, it offered an early glimpse of Pat’s resilience, which defined his life and work. At the same time, it has inspired me to question the status quo and be a little more daring in the face of community indifferences.

How long have you been writing or when did you start?

I started writing off and on as an English major at The Citadel, aiming to write a novel and a nonfiction book on Christian mysticism after graduating. Graduate school, law school, raising a family, and starting a career came first, but I’ve since completed the novel and begun a short nonfiction work on the language of mysticism. I hope that as my career winds down I can spend my latter years writing. I have a rather long inventory of ideas.

What is your writing schedule-are you an early morning or late night writer?

I've always been a morning person. Even in college, I preferred early starts, struggled to study past 10:30 p.m., and got teased for going to bed so early. But I’ve always loved the quiet and the gradual crescendo and rhythms of the morning.

Who has been the biggest supporter of your writing?

My wife, Mary Lucia, always told me I had a story to tell. She’s been a constant source of inspiration and encouragement, offering valuable feedback and edits along the way.

Writing can be a solitary journey so it’s important to surround yourself with people who understand. You have lots of friends in the writing community. Would you like to give them a shout out here?

Bren McClain (One Good Mama Bone) and I met in 2021, although we are both from Anderson, South Carolina. She has been a great motivator for me and is always checking in to see how things are going.

Rebecca Bruff. Her novel Trouble The Water is such a great story about a South Carolina hero, Robert Smalls. I was blown away when I read her novel, because growing up in SC I had never heard of Robert Smalls.

Tim Conroy and Kathy Harvey gave me great encouragement, especially in the beginning when I was tentative about writing. I guess you can say they helped pull me out of my comfort zone.

Estelle Ford Williamson. I had the pleasure of meeting Estelle after she published Rising Fawn. Her passion about family stories is very inspiring.

Finally, Cassandra King. Had I not read her memoir Tell Me a Story I would have probably never met the people mentioned above. She essentially opened a lot of doors for me – both internal and external.

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

First, don’t wait. Start writing earlier in life.

Two, introduce yourself to Pat Conroy. When I attended the Citadel no English course, including freshman composition, included anything about Pat Conroy. In fact, many were hesitant even to mention his name. I recall a moment from sophomore year when my classmate and fellow English major, Chris, told an English professor—a Citadel graduate before Pat Conroy—that he was enjoying Pat Conroy’s novels. The professor, unimpressed, advised Chris that if he hoped to earn a degree from the Citadel, his literary tastes would have to drastically improve.

I am super proud of the relationship the Citadel and Pat Conroy had later in his life. But during my time at the Citadel, he was taboo. As a result, I never gave meeting Pat a thought and did not even read his novels until after meeting Cassandra in 2021.

You are a great short story author! I know, because I’ve had the pleasure of publishing some of them here. I love writing short stories, but lots of authors say they are harder to write than a full length novel. Do you have any plans to write a short story collection? Do you have another novel in the works?

I appreciate the support of WELL READ Magazine. Pop’s Boat and Dog Days are about two very special people in my life, my wife’s grandfather, who took me flounder fishing each year in NC and my maternal grandmother, who really did kill a snake with a hammer while talking on the phone with her pastor.

I am finding a little time to craft some short stories. One challenge currently in front of me is I have these hilarious memories from the neighborhood where I grew up. I was about 8 and a group of teenagers (15-16) lived in the three houses opposite us. They were always playing practical jokes well through their high school days. For example, one year they stole a mannequin from the Belk Department store, which for almost a year made lewd appearances in surprising places around the neighborhood. The challenge is getting enough substance and action to create them into a short story, but they are too hilarious to not give it a try. I will let you know what comes from my attempts.