Online with Michael Perry

This morning, we got lucky. Michael Perry Skyped with us.

Our video-chat would not have happened if Mr. Perry weren't so willing to go the extra hundred miles or so. See, he lives up in hinterland, practically off grid, where there's not an internet connection around capable of handling Skype. That sounds soooo Michael Perryish, doesn't it? The point is, Perry put forth a fair amount of effort to make this happen. I imagine either late last night or early this morning, well before the rooster's cockadoodle doo, Perry hit the road and drove an hour or so through a snowstorm to his friend's house in Eau Claire. Thus, at the prescribed moment--8:30AM to be precise--his friend's computer called our computer.  It was as simple--or not so simple--as all that.

Here in Madison, for our part, from various quarters we gathered at Bethel, in a brightly lit lower level sanctuary. With me were Roman, Bill, Billy, Jeremy, Jack, Mark, Dave, Alice, Mark H., Laura, Kent, Linda, RJ, Darren, Conner, Tom, Thomas, Steve and Forest (our cuddly four-legged mascot). The event went without a hitch. Here are a few pics. 

Photos are courtesy of Conner Wild, a UW student.

As during our previous author visits, we had a designated photographer, but we made no audio or video recording. (More than one person has suggested we do otherwise, but there's the issue of equipment and personnel and cost...) What follows is what I remember, or think I remember, of today's session. The folks who were present will know I've left off a few stories (about cross-eyed Beagle, for example), but I simply couldn't do them justice. Those stories are best told by Michael Perry himself and you should read the book. Hopefully, if I make any material errors in my recounting here, Mr. Perry will forgo the lawyers and simply shoot me a gently corrective email. (Emailing from hinterland is sometimes possible.)

Do you still own and drive the '51 International?

With our first question, Perry's face lit up. He's clearly still keen on his '51 International. "She runs," he says with a smile, then, rather wistfully, he adds, "but she isn't licensed." Because she isn't the most reliable gas-burner around, she's been relegated to home use only. Perry says he drives her around the farm,  hauling chicken feed and the like, but she isn't suitable for long road trips. This news brings that rather forlorn feeling you get when you hear that some great race horse that you've loved and cheered for and followed, has just been retired. Put out to pasture, they say. Aw. If what I've seen on public television clips of Mr. Perry's farm is representative, at least the view is nice. Yes, when she's not parked in the barn, the '51 has a nice view. 

Are you still a volunteer with the fire department?

Since writing Truck: A Love Story, Mr. Perry and his family have moved to a new town, where he is a volunteer firefighter once again. All together, he volunteered as firefighter or EMT for 22 years. Even though his writing career keeps him busy, he clings to the volunteer work because it connects him to his fellow citizens in need. He explains it like this. While he really enjoys his whole new lifestyle of being a writer, he needs the fire department or EMT gig. He likes the book tours, doing the readings and the radio and television shows, but it's all so nicey-nicey. There's nothing like helping a friend or neighbor in need to keep one's feet firmly planted on the ground. Solid ground. Yes, he likes solid ground.  

"Besides," he adds wryly, "someday, it might be me, or a member of my family, that needs help. Maybe I'm leveraging my karmic debt, I don't know, I just hope someone will be there to help me or my family if and when it happens."

Dedicated as he is, sometimes things go wrong. For instance, recently Perry misplaced his fire department pager. Pagers are expensive. You don't want to lose one. After three weeks spent in fruitless search, Perry readied to have what he calls the er-um talk with his fire chief. Er-um. That's the kind of talk during which you stick your hands deep into your pockets (if you have any), cast your eyes furtively to the ground, and shuffle your feet. But the night before the planned er-um speech, while preparing to play music with his band, The Long Beds, he opened his gig box and there , sitting right where he'd left it the last time the band played, was his pager. Whew. 

Perry is human.  

Why did you decide to be a writer? 

Actually, Perry sort of stumbled into writing. "It's like I got on the wrong bus. But you know what? It's a fine bus to be on."

We're glad you're on it, Mr. Perry. Don't get off.  

What is your writing routine like? 

As a bachelor, Perry liked to sit down about seven or eight at night and write for hours, sometimes not wrapping up a session until two in the morning. "I'm a binge writer," he confesses. Now that he's married and has children, he prefers to dedicate his evenings to his family. In a sense, he is trying to recreate a part of family life he experienced growing up. 

As a youngster, Perry's parents were almost always at home in the evening. In retrospect, he realizes that was an awesome gift. He wants to give that to his children--tuck them in at night, read to them, and let them drift off to sleep content in the knowledge that mommy and daddy are there in the house with them, together, and that everything is taken care of.

Clearly, he's a romantic. 

Perry is acquainted with writers who have very strict writing routines. They get up at 5AM and write until 6AM, then stop to drink a cup of tea, then they write until 9AM and break to eat two eggs, then write until noon. And so on and so forth. Meanwhile, with children and chickens to care for, Perry writes on the fly.

He seizes precious writing moments by rising early in the morning, or taking advantage of those few minutes between chores, or an unexpected lull in the afternoon. Of course, he still longs for those long stretches of uninterrupted writing. In fact, they're crucial. Fortunately, his wife understands, and every now and again, Perry holes up alone somewhere to write, stopping only long enough to perform the essentials. 

Mr. Perry's style reminded us of the English writer James Herriot. So we asked: Did you read James Herriot? Did his writing influence yours? 

Mr. Perry grew up with James Herriot books. As a child, the books were read to him. Later, he read them for himself, more than once. He still likes to revisit those books. He still appreciates the simple, genuine, unadorned language of James Herriot, writing which pulls the reader into the story and makes the characters come to life. Perry says he aspires to write as beautifully and clearly, and with as much humor and wisdom, as James Herriot.

I think he's there. 

How did you become so philosophical? 

It's not entirely his fault. Perry learned a lot of this from his father, whom he describes as a devout, gentle and reflective man. Perry is careful to make a distinction between a reflective person vs. one engaged in navel-gazing. A reflective person keeps others in mind. The navel gazer is self-absorbed. 

So there he was growing up with a gentle, reflective man for a father. Perry naturally developed some of those traits, too. That, Perry thinks, is why people consider him philosophical. Mind you, he's very humble about this. After all these years of practice, Perry thinks he still has a lot to learn. Take Socrates, Aristotle, or Montaigne (the latter is actually better known as an essayist than a philosopher, but he was a philosopher nonetheless). The more Perry studies their writings, the more he realizes the gap that exists between his intelligence and theirs. "It's like playing music. I'm in a band. It's a lot of fun. But the more I play, the more I realize what it takes to be a real musician. They're functioning at such a high level."

One of our members has an autographed copy of Truck: A Love Story. You signed it with the words double-clutch. Can you explain double clutch?

First, a disclaimer: I did my best to understand Perry's answer. I wanted to come home and tell my husband that I know how to double clutch. I thought it would impress him. So here's what I've got. Please keep your expectations low. My apologies to Mr. Perry who, undoubtedly, explained this much better than I am about to. 

Double clutch is a term having to do with shifting gears in older trucks, fifties models and earlier. As with Perry's '51 International, to shift gears, you have to push the clutch in to release the throttle, then you release the clutch. I think that puts you in neutral. Then, when you're at the right speed, you depress the clutch again and shift gears. When you do it right, it takes only a second; you try to time it so that the two turning discs (or something-or-others) are spinning at about the same speed just as you depress the clutch a second time. If you get it right, the gear shift is smooth. If your timing is off, well, apparently that's funny. "It's pretty fun to watch someone learn this," Perry says. Yea, great. It was all too easy to imagine Perry and his buddies laughing and knee-slapping as some newbie gave it a try. "If you're really good," he adds, "you can actually get by without doing it, especially when shifting up." (Or did he say down?) 

Why was Mark so willing to help you out with the truck? How did you pay him back? And what, on earth, is his day job?

As we discussed Truck: A Love Story in our book club, we often marveled at Perry's luck in having Mark as a brother-in-law. Mark, a skilled machinist by day, was more than willing to help Perry restore his truck. Thank goodness too, because, to put it gently, Perry doesn't seem to be the world's handiest mechanic. (He has other talents.) At any rate, Mark got a kick out of working on the '51 International. As payback, Perry gave him a plasma welder, which he was able to write off as a tax deduction (now that's fancy work!). 

(What's a plasma welder? Good question. Sounds like something that welds people's blood together, but I think it pulls rusty bolts and nails off old trucks.) 

Did you ever get over Irma Harding? If not, have you received help? 

In essence, no. "My wife is a very understanding woman. While I love her more than life itself, I do reserve a tiny bit of my heart for Irma Harding. Men, they can have confidence in their manhood. I don't know what you call it in women--confidence in their femininity-hood, maybe. Whatever it is, my wife has it. She knows I keep a few images of old Irma around, and she's not the least bit jealous or worried." 

Are you writing another book? If so, can you tell us about it?

Like many writers, Perry hedges a bit here. "When people ask what I'm writing about," he says, "I can't easily answer. That's because when I start out working on a book, I don't always know where it's going to go."

Fair enough. Perry is willing to say that his next memoir begins with musings about a character we met in Truck: A Love Story. It's about the elderly neighbor who feeds the squirrels. Turns out this old country boy has a few potentially dangerous and possibly illegal pastimes. (I wonder if that's the sort of thing neighbors once said about the Unabomber.)   

In addition to the memoir, Perry is working on a novel, something he hasn't tried before. He's a bit light on detail here, too, saying only that it's a fictional story about a young girl who faces certain trials and comes through.

Well, that brings us to the end of our time spent with Mr. Perry. As predicted, the time flew. None of us wanted the session to end. Mr. Perry impressed us with his warmth and humor, his mix of ease and earnestness, and his willingness to go the extra hundred miles or so for us.

When it was over, we celebrated with coffee and donuts. "Now there's a guy I'd like to have lunch with," was the sentiment. Around here, that's a compliment of the highest degree.


Quote of the week: 

"Judges don't make threats. They make promises."
             ~Kent.


Gratitude: 

I want to thank Michael Perry for his generosity in doing what he did to spend this time with us. Very much appreciated. It's hard to put into words the  effect these visits have on the group. One fellow put it best when he said "it kind of feels like your team just won the Super Bowl."

Thanks also to Kyle, for letting Michael Perry use his computer!

Thanks also to Darren, who does everything it takes to make sure our Skype sessions run smoothly. And then, when it's all over, he quietly packs up the computer, camera, microphone, internet and speaker cables, and hauls it all away. Thank you, Darren!

And Conner Wild, thanks for taking and sharing today's pics.


Club News: 

We'll be meeting next week for our last discussion of Truck: A Love Story by Michael Perry. It's not too late to get your copy and catch up to us! Remember, if you buy your copy by clicking on the link through this blog, we will earn dollars to apply toward future book purchases.

We'll meet the week following for our Movie of the Month: Tucker: The man and his Dream, the story of Preston Tucker and his revolutionary car concept.

See you next week!

Peace,
~Suzanne

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