Born and raised in Atlanta, Susan White graduated from Brown University and holds a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Hollins University where she was awarded a teaching fellowship and the James Purdy Prize for outstanding fiction. In 2007 she was awarded a fellowship at the Hambidge Center, an artist colony in the north Georgia mountains. Her debut novel, Bound South, was published by Touchstone / Simon and Schuster in February 2009. An excerpt from Bound South was published in Atlanta magazine’s May 2007 fiction issue. Currently Susan is working on her second novel. She lives near downtown Atlanta with her husband, Alan Deutschman, dog Raney, and cats Moses and Zippy. Recently Susan and Alan tore up the grass in their front yard and replaced it with a vegetable garden that Moses loves to patrol.
Other publications:
An earlier version of the chapter “Joie de Vivre Means Pain in my Ass, Right?” was published in 2006, in the journal Blackbird on your shoulder: stories and other truths from the South, produced by the Dalton gallery at Agnes Scott College.
An earlier version of the chapter “Clay Bird” was originally published in the 2005 edition of ELEVEN ELEVEN, the annual journal of literature and art published by California College of the Arts.
And to learn even more about Susan, check out this Q&A found in the back of Bound South:
Bound South
By Susan Rebecca White
Author Q&A
1) When you sat down to write Bound South, did you know that you were going to have three different women narrating it, all from the first-person point of view? Do you think of one particular woman as the protagonist, or do the three women share this role? You obviously care about all of your characters, but are you especially attached to a particular one?
SRW: I did not initially plan on having all three women narrate Bound South from the first-person point of view. In fact, initially I opened each section of the book with a story told from third-person point of view. But my editor convinced me, rightly, that the occasional switch to the third person was jarring, and that it was important to let the women of the book narrate their stories completely.
It’s interesting to think back on my process of writing this novel. The first piece I wrote was about Missy stealing Louise Parker’s clay bird. I wrote that as a stand-alone short story, but when I was finished with it I still had Missy’s voice in my head, and I wanted to write more about her and find out what happened to her dad. (I tend to find out what happens to my characters through the process of writing their stories, letting my subconscious mind do all of the work.) And then one day I wrote a piece called, “Louise Parker speaks,” and there was Louise, just as alive as could be, springing up from the page. And of course writing about Louise led me to writing about Caroline, because Caroline needed to have her say. And so, piece-by-piece, the book came together.
In my mind Louise is the major protagonist, as she is the one who is directly connected to almost all of the characters in the story. And while I love Caroline, I have to say that both Missy and Louise hold a special place in my heart. They are both just so vulnerable and yet resilient.
2) You were born and raised in Atlanta, where Bound South takes place. How did your personal relationship with Atlanta find its way into the novel? Do you consider yourself a southern author?
SRW: I’ll start with the second question: I didn’t really think of myself as a southern author until after I wrote Bound South, and then I realized that yes, indeed, the South has shaped me, and my understanding of the South helps my writing. Here’s what I mean: when I was in college in the northeast, and then later when I was living in San Francisco, I wrote a lot of stories, but they weren’t really place specific, unless you consider a bar in either New York or San Francisco a specific place. And then I got to graduate school and I realized that a lot of writers set their stories in urban bars. I remember thinking: I am not going to write another story that takes place in a bar or on a date. Not because such stories are inherently bad, but because I realized I didn’t really have anything new or interesting to say on the subject, whereas other writers do. And I guess it was around that time that I also realized that while plenty of other authors could write about New York or California better than I, I really, really knew Atlanta, or at least one slice of it, and I should try writing about it. And that led me to Missy and Louise, who I think are both products of their environment. Caroline a little less so, perhaps, though in the end she finds she can’t escape feeling real nostalgia for the South.
I wrote much of Bound South while living away from Atlanta, and my yearnings for home made their way into the book. For example, Caroline is always trying out recipes from The Gift of Southern Cooking and of course that was the cookbook I turned to every time I felt homesick. Even Missy and R.D.’s love affair with Chick-fil-A sandwiches was a reflection of my own cravings.
Also, writing about Atlanta allowed me to explore different parts of the city whenever I returned home to visit my parents. It’s quite feasible that a woman like Louise Parker would live in Ansley Park, but I also situated her there because I really like that neighborhood, and I thought it was fun to research its architecture and history, and to walk its streets whenever I was in town.
3) After living away from Atlanta for more than a decade, you are now living there once again. What is it like to have returned to your hometown as an adult? Do you believe the saying, “you can never go home again” to be true?
SRW: It’s complicated being back, and I have to admit there are times when I think longingly of San Francisco. Part of that is because by the time I returned to Atlanta I was fully an adult, so living in Atlanta came with all of these adult responsibilities, like owning an old house that seems to be in constant need of repair. (Not that to be an adult one has to own an old house (!) but I certainly took that route.)
In this city, I feel very known, which is a mixed blessing. I can’t tell you how often I run into people who knew me when I was a little girl. It’s lovely, to an extent, but I do think nostalgically of the “blank slate” I had in San Francisco—how I could create whatever identity I wanted for myself because no one there knew me as a kid.
That said, I do live in a different—and decidedly more progressive—neighborhood than the one I grew up in, and I’m married, and I’m pretty involved with my community, both in girly ways (I’m in a gourmet group and a book club) and in more overtly political ways. For the most part, my adult life in Atlanta does not mirror the world that I grew up in, although in some ways it does. (I definitely spend more time here at furniture stores than I ever did in San Francisco!) But in an effort to recruit more ex-pats to return home, I am always telling friends who have moved away that there are “lots of Atlantas,” and that almost everyone can find some sort of a niche here.
5) During your twenties you lived in San Francisco, where part of the novel takes place. How was living in San Francisco different from living in Atlanta? Had you been born and raised in San Francisco, do you think you would have written a novel like Bound South?
SRW: Hmm, I probably would not have written a novel like Bound South had I grown up in San Francisco. Hopefully I would still be a writer, but my leading lady would most likely have been cut from a different cloth than Louise. In fact, I am currently working on a novel where one of the characters is born in Atlanta but moves to San Francisco at a young age. The move changes her entirely. That said, San Francisco and Atlanta share some qualities: neither city has terrible winters, people in both places tend to be fairly friendly, and each town has amazing restaurants. And neighborhood really matters in both places—where you live says a lot about who you are, or at least people will make a lot of assumptions about you based on the neighborhood you live in.
The city of San Francisco does seem to dedicate more energy towards preserving and beautifying public spaces, where in Atlanta the focus is definitely on private space (read: one’s home and garden).
6) Besides being a writer, what other jobs have you held?
SRW: I’ll start with the most ridiculous. For two days I was an associate at a high-tech PR firm in Silicon Valley. I guess you have to know me to grasp the absurdity: I am about the least high-tech person on the planet: I don’t get cable, I don’t text, I have no idea what a BlackBerry even does. After the PR firm, I started cleaning houses. My job as a housekeeper was equally absurd, mainly because I’m allergic to dust and just about as allergic to doing housework. But my friend and I came up with a cute name “The Mop Squad” (which I’m sure has been used by cleaning services before) and we made funny posters featuring photos of us holding feather dusters like weapons, a la Charlie’s Angels, and we posted an ad on Craigslist and we got quite a few gigs. But the thing is—we were rarely asked back twice! Instead people would hire us and then would never call us back.
For two years I waited tables at a Middle Eastern restaurant in San Francisco. I loved that job, mostly because the staff was so nice, and the woman who ran the place, Ellen Sinaiko, is super smart and very funny and in general just a joy to be around. Also, I’ve taught junior high and high school English. I really love teaching, but I did sometimes make faux pas during parent/teacher conferences. Once, at a private school in San Francisco, a mother—whose daughter was an above average student—balefully told me that she was really, really worried about her daughter’s occasional spelling mistakes, and I heard myself saying, “Well, thank God for spell-check!” (She was not amused.)
7) Is there a character from Bound South with whom you most relate? Is Bound South in anyways autobiographical?
SRW: Bound South is not autobiographical, but it is based on my understanding of the people of Atlanta. It’s funny—I tried to write an autobiographical story and found that I wasn’t very good at it. I took myself—or perhaps I should say my viewpoint—too seriously. So I started writing about people different from me, first Missy and then Louise. Which isn’t to say that I don’t take either of them seriously, just that I’m able to see their foibles, and I’m able to see how their specific backgrounds influence who they are and what choices they make, how each character knows truths about life that come into direct conflict with the other’s truth.
In terms of relating to any specific character, to be honest, I relate to them all. While we have somewhat different worldviews, I, same as Louise, try to be honest about acknowledging uncomfortable and painful truths about myself. And I really like living in a pretty environment, as does Louise. I’m a big cook, like Caroline, and I’ve always been drawn to religion, though I’ve never bought a cross to wear around my neck. And like Missy, I’ve had my heart broken (although not by my father), and I understand how we can create gods and ghosts out of those people who break our hearts, the way that Missy did with her daddy, Luke Meadows.
8) Art plays such a pivotal role in Bound South. What role does art play in your own life? Do you personally know, or collect the art of, anyone like Mr. Earl LeTrouve?
SRW: I have a distinct aesthetic sensibility—can’t say if it’s good or not— and I usually have an immediate response when I see a piece of art for the first time. Either I am instantly drawn in—as Louise was drawn to Earl’s egg tempera pieces—or I am left cold. I have a very odd photo that I just adore. I bought it for my husband’s birthday, and he was nice enough to let me pretend that it was a gift for him and not really for me. The photo is huge—at least three feet long—and in it an old beat-up sofa is on fire. The fire is just raging. And in front of this burning sofa is a stuffed (but very real looking) fox, whose hair is being blown by the gusts from the fire. When I first saw the fox I thought it was alive, but then I realized that all of the animals in this artist’s work are taxidermied. (The artist’s name is Jody Fausett.) Anyway, I looked at that photo and I just loved the statement of the fire, the intensity of it, the lack of ambiguity, the clearing away. And so I bought it and hung it in my dining room, justifying the central placement by saying that it’s a “conversation piece.”
My friend Susan Bridges runs an art gallery (named whitespace) out of the carriage house behind her home. Through her I have met some deeply eccentric southern artists, though none quite like Mr. LeTrouve.
9) Bound South does not shy away from either serious or controversial topics, including transgenderism, teen pregnancy, suicide, the treatment of prisoners at Abu Ghraib, sexual harassment, and even a mother’s own violent thoughts towards her daughter. Yet the book is laced with humor. How did you manage to write about such weighty topics and still write a funny book?
SRW: When I was growing up my father often said something to the extent of, “very few things in life constitute an emergency,” and I suppose that attitude got somewhat ingrained in me. (Although if you ever sit next to me on a plane you will experience a not so Zen girl. I am a panicky freak on flights.) Also, I’m not writing about war, or genocide or imprisonment—(though of course there have been funny books written about war.) Anyway, while some experiences are inextricably difficult and sad, there is often humor laced through the way that we deal with them. I am reminded of the time that my grandmother, who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, started to sit and then froze halfway down because she couldn’t remember whether or not she was in the middle of standing up or sitting down. It was a horribly sad moment, and a harbinger of many more terrible moments to come, yet she and my mother started laughing hysterically because it was all so ridiculous and darkly comic. And it seems to me that that is how life is. There are ridiculous moments even in the middle of big and serious events.
10) Caroline, Missy, and—to a lesser extent—Louise all struggle with their religious beliefs. Does this reflect a struggle in your life with religion? Do you consider yourself a religious person?
SRW: I have a genuine desire for religious experience in my life, and I am quite envious of those who have it. And though I’m not always comfortable calling myself a Christian, I do—most of the time—believe in God and I do practice elements of the faith. And yet, I am fundamentally put off by any religion that claims its followers have backstage passes to the God show, as it seems most major religions do.
The times I feel most spiritually connected are during times of service (volunteering at the homeless shelter), times of meditation, and times spent in nature. I wish I had a more solid religious core, and yet I often feel that people who are very religious erect a certain boundary around themselves that no one can enter besides those of their own faith. And that seems a shame.
11) Will you share with us the titles of some of your all-time favorite books and explain why you love those particular ones? Are there any books you’ve read lately that you are itching to recommend?
SRW: Oh yes! I just read The World to Come by Dara Horn and I absolutely loved it. The prose is gorgeous and smart, and the book is such a page-turner! I have also just recently discovered the novels of Gail Godwin, who started writing books around the time I was born and is still going at it. I admire her so much. To me she is an artist who has fully embraced her craft, someone who has stretched herself to her potential. I will forever love The Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole as it makes me laugh out loud every time I read it. And I love The Assistant by Bernard Malamud, in part because my husband bought it for me when we were first falling in love, but also because there is nothing clever or cynical about it, it’s just about human love and human failings. And man do I love Flannery O’ Connor’s short stories, though I think you really do need to understand her views on faith in order to understand them. Ellen Foster, by Kaye Gibbons, is important to me because Ellen’s moment of becoming fully human, when she realizes Starletta is as intrinsically valuable as she, made me stop reading, put the book down, and just let her epiphany wash over me like a baptism. And speaking of baptisms, there is a strange sort of cookbook, The Supper of the Lamb, by Episcopal priest Robert Farrar Capon that is truly odd and truly life-affirming.
12) You earned your MFA in creative writing from Hollins University. There is a lot of discussion among writers about the value and merit of these programs. Are you glad that you attended one? Do you think your time at Hollins helped you to become a better writer?
SRW: Absolutely. There is nothing like having two years during which your only real responsibility is to write. The danger with MFA programs, I think, is that you can start writing for your little bitty circle of readers and forget that there is a larger audience out there who might not have the same preferences as the small sample of people in your writing workshop. But all that means is that you learn to take criticism with a grain of salt, which isn’t a bad skill to develop if you want to be a professional writer.
13) Will you tell us anything about what you are working on now?
SRW: I am writing a story about a modern-day patched together family who, through tragic circumstances, gets ripped apart. It is a comedy. (Just kidding! But it does have its funny moments.)
