Novels such as “The Great Santini,” “The Prince of Tides” and “South of Broad” have made Pat Conroy one of the most beloved Southern authors of this or the last century. While readers have relished his work, he didn’t have much fun writing it, at least until now.
“I’ve never enjoyed writing a book — usually in my books people commit suicide, go nuts, are sad beyond human belief. … But with this book,” he says, referring to his new memoir, “My Reading Life,” “I finally got to include stories of my family that bring me great joy.”
Q. You write about your adoration of the novel “Gone With the Wind.” Any flak for that?
A. Oh yeah, I’ve been catching hell. An NPR guy chastised me for it; he hates the book. He said, “Frankly, the people where I came from are glad we lost that war.” He thinks that somehow because I love that book, I’m all for slavery. Stupidity.
Q. Your mom, Peg, introduced you to “GWTW,” right?
A. She read it to me out loud, every year from the time I was 5, and we watched the movie every time it was on.
Q. You were at one time going to write the sequel. What happened to that?
A. The (Margaret Mitchell) estate contacted me about it, and I had a great idea, I thought, which was to write the autobiography of Rhett Butler, and of course I’d dedicate it to my mother. … But the estate kept handing down these edicts; I couldn’t write about miscegenation, or homosexuality. I got so fed up, I told them the first line of the book would be, “After Rhett Butler made love to Ashley, he lit a cigarette, handed it to Ashley, and asked, ‘Have I ever told you my grandmother was black?”’ That didn’t work out.
Q. You give great credit to teachers in general and especially to your high school English teacher, Gene Norris. Tell us about him.
A. Oh, that guy was so sweet. He set me up, when I was 15, to meet the poet laureate of South Carolina. … That had a huge impact on my life. He never let me forget it. I had to pay it back by talking to kids who want to be writers.
Q. Are any of your four grown daughters writers?
A. My daughter Melissa wrote a children’s book called “Poppy’s Pants,” which mocks me for only wearing khaki pants. She and the others used to go to my closet and see the lines of khaki pants and think, “Dad must be a very poor man.” There’s a Poppy doll. If I really looked like that, I’d stick my head in an oven.
Q. What’s next up for you?
A. I’m in the middle of “The Death of Santini,” which is about how my father changed late in his life. I’m learning some stunning things that explain a lot about my family, and my mom’s and dad’s families — I mean, my mom and dad were like Zeus and Hera, it was crazy. It’s almost turning into an autobiography. It’s due March 1, so it should be out next fall.
Q. Readers seem to think all of your books are autobiography.
A. Yeah, they think it’s all true, including my wife. When she married me, she asked me if I’d ever thought about writing fiction.
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