AUTHOR’S NOTE AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Temple Tutwiler planted the first seed of this book when he suggested that I add to my “canon” of oral biographies by doing one with the extraordinary man who had been an English teacher and mentor to us both, Carl Martin Hames.

Next was Doug Pepper, the editor for my book Milking the Moon, an oral biography of the Truman Capote-esque Eugene Walter. I did not meet Doug until after a year of phone calls and emails discussing the editing of this manuscript. Then he came from New York to attend a literary conference in New Orleans, where I invited him for dinner at my house. We hit it off so well I was truly sorry to decline his invitation to Sunday brunch in the French Quarter.

“My high school English teacher is in town for a convention of private school principals,” I explained. “Sunday at noon is the only time I can see him.”

“And your English teacher from Birmingham takes precedence over your editor from New York?” Doug teased. “Let me guess,” he said. “This man was the most important teacher in your life. He transformed your existence and inspired your future like no one else.”

Everything he said was true, but I thought Doug was just pulling clichés out of the hat until he said, “And this man weighed at least 600 pounds.”

Flabbergasted, I could only stare at him. “How on earth did you know?”

Then he told me something I’ll never forget. “I have three authors who came from Birmingham, Alabama,” he said. “And they all had that same damn English teacher.”

I shouldn’t have been bowled over like I was, because after all, Martin Hames has inspired many more than the three published authors my editor was referring to. When I recovered from my amazement, Doug remarked, perhaps jokingly, “Maybe your next book should be about this English teacher.”

He may or may not have been joking, but the idea that Temple Tutwiler had first planted in my brain began to take serious root. But before I could even begin to convince him to undertake such a project with me, Mr. Hames passed away, leaving behind a huge hole that no one could ever fill, and not just because of the outrageous amount of physical space he took up when he was still among us.

Mr. Hames’s death made a book about him all the more imperative. And since I could no longer do the kind of nonfiction book I wanted, I switched to fiction. The great thing about fiction is that no one can blame me for all the deviations from the factual record in which this novel abounds. Instead of trying to re-create any literal or biographical truth, I spent my efforts trying to capture in words the large body and spirit of my beloved Mr. Hames. Then I made up a plot and a cast of other characters, as is necessary for a work of fiction.

Since nothing can fill the void created by Mr. Hames’s absence, my attempted tribute no doubt fails to do justice to the man or the now-empty place he occupied in his community. Those who loved Mr. Hames as much as I did may wonder why I endowed his fictional counterpart with so many flaws. My own belief is that a great man’s flaws are as integral to his success and greatness as his more positive attributes. While perfect saints can be heroes, most heroes accomplish their heroic mission because they are not perfect saints. Also, to whitewash someone’s character is to pay the ultimate insult. In any case, I’m sure there are much better tributes than my novel that can be offered to the memory of Carl Martin Hames, and I sincerely encourage all those who want to do better than me to do so immediately, if not in fiction, then in nonfiction, poetry, painting, sculpture, or a donation to the scholarship fund at The Altamont School in Birmingham, Alabama. Meanwhile, there is already another book that pays homage to Mr. Hames, and that is Carolyn Sloss Ratliff’s choice compilation of testimonials, collected in Larger Than Life: Memories of Carl Martin Hames.

There are several people responsible for making sure that what I’ve written has a public life. The first is the unbelievable person who got this book into print. His name is Pat Conroy. He read my novel when it was still just a Kinko’s manuscript that arrived unexpectedly on his South Carolina island, un-recommended, un-agented, and unbidden. He had never once met me and did not know me. Ordinarily I would never have had the gumption to approach a famous author with my own un-famous work, but I suspected from having read Pat’s novels many times that he possessed a soul as large and generous as that of my teacher. I was right. This famous author I’d never met actually read my Kinko’s manuscript. Then he called me to discuss it. He suggested ways to make it better. And ultimately, now he is publishing it through his Story River Books imprint at the University of South Carolina Press. Pat Conroy has become reader, editor, mentor, publisher, and most of all, friend, and not just to me, either, but to countless other authors. Thank you, Pat, for being who you are: human being extraordinaire.

Pat Conroy would not, and could not, attempt what he’s doing with Story River Books if not for the incomparable Jonathan Haupt, director of USC Press. Together, Jonathan and Pat have taken up the task of seeking and publishing quality Southern fiction, and I’m deeply honored that my novel was chosen for the imprint.

I would never have had the nerve to show my work to either of these literary superiors if not for my dearest friend and first reader, Tom Uskali, whose trenchant analysis of a manuscript’s problems and shortcomings arrives in the form of praise and compliments. In his brilliant offhand manner, he politely and subtly indicates major changes and revisions that need to be made. If I need to talk for hours about my work, Tom will always oblige, and in the process, tell me more about my own novel than I knew myself. With his insight, I can then go back and make the book live up to what Tom has shown me it can be. I have come to rely on him so completely that I would never put anything I write out there before showing it first to Tom. My next reader is Sean Smith, who wields the alchemy of an ideal audience. As soon as I’m ready to send a manuscript to Sean, I suddenly think of a dozen improvements I need to make in order to reach my reader. As soon as I’ve made these improvements and sent the manuscript, I think of a dozen more. This process repeats itself every time I send a new version. I don’t show what I write to my husband, Brandon, because he deserves a break. He supports me in all ways, without which I wouldn’t have written anything. I would rather present him with the polished and published final product, which he has made possible. Kathe Telingator is the agent who has represented me without tangible hope of being compensated financially for her tremendous investment of time and effort. Thank you all.