What is home?
I think we limit our definition of humanity if we define “home” as simply a physical structure. Home encompasses our history and our hopes for the future. For me, home is both the sum of my human experience and my desire for more. Maybe that’s why I have a bit of wanderlust.
How did you find Alligator Point?
I was traveling down Highway 98 on my way to a book event in Pensacola. I saw the sign, stuck in the middle of wild nowhere, and thought, Hmmm . . . I have to go there one day. Then, as I rounded the bend, I saw homes on the horizon rising out of the Gulf — or so it appeared. It was incredibly beautiful! I did a U-turn and the rest is history.
How can we reduce our dependency on oil?
Many things, beginning with electing to public office people who believe in science. We must get Big Money out of our election system. We must recommit resources and renew our determination to support alternative energy sources — wind, solar, hydro — along with research and development into systems we haven’t yet imagined. And, most fundamental of all, we must recognize that we are the earth’s caretakers, that this planet is a sacred place; that it, in every way, is our only home.
Where is home now — you seem to rotate through three places. How do you decide where to live and what’s great about each place?
It’s kind of crazy! I currently divide my time between Florida, Mexico and Vermont. I teach in Vermont College of Fine Arts’ low residency MFA in Writing program and direct their Novel Retreat, so that’s the New England connection. In addition to a few weeks in the spring and summer, I’m in Vermont every December and January and, while I love Vermont’s progressive vibe and the gorgeous mountains, my thin Florida blood curdles in those below-zero temperatures. Still, Vermont is glorious and I feel very lucky that I get to spend quite a bit of time up there. Florida — dear, fragile Florida — is bred in my bones. Though at times I feel like an exile in my own land, I can’t give it up. And, I have to say, in all my travels Florida stands out as a unique ecosystem. From the Gulf to the Keys, to the Atlantic, to the interior, there really isn’t anywhere else like it. Florida’s beauty and its natural diversity are both under-appreciated and under protected. Mexico is primarily where I write these days. The slower pace, the generosity of the people, and the challenges of living in a foreign land all feed my creativity. There is something very magical about living on a small Caribbean island, especially at night as the sea rains blow ashore. Now, if I could only figure out a way to spend a few months each year in Ireland . . .
I started down the traditional New York publisher path, but it quickly became clear that the book took some non-traditional chances that I wasn’t willing to compromise on. I had several conversations with Joan Leggitt, Twisted Roads’ publisher, and she really “got” what I was trying to do. I felt she believed in the book because of what it said, not because of a profit and loss sheet. The book is sewn so tenderly from my heart, and I wanted a publisher who understood that.
What is the one thing you hope readers will take away from your memoir?
Oil and life don’t mix. Clearly, Big Oil and Gas have no concern for the long-term health of the planet or its inhabitants. We have to make changes now.
What's the next book?
I’m nearing completion on the first draft of a novel-in-progress titled Stone by Stone. It’s a dystopian novel set in the near future. This is a departure for me and I’m having a blast writing it.
This article appears in Feb 1-8, 2018.