Kevin Calder
ORP: What inspired you to begin writing or creating? Has that source of inspiration changed throughout your life?
Kevin Calder: I've always loved words, the way they look on paper, the way they feel in my mouth, hearing how other people pronounce them, the turning of phrases. Ever since I can remember, I've told my stories to anyone who'll listen. When I was nineteen, I rented the mayor of my town's rather Addams Family-esque house. It was left to me full of unusual, eccentric objects, notably an old Atlanta street car, rusted and overtaken by bluebells in the backyard. One day I found a book on the top shelf of a bedroom closet entitled In The Land of Dreamy Dreams by Ellen Gilchrist. Finding this collection of short stories changed the course of my life. As I read along, I remember thinking I'd found a kindred spirit. Who knew that one day, Ellen would become my friend and write a story about me? My second thought was: I can do this, too! When I finished reading it, I felt like petitioning for a significant modification to all the high school reading lists across America. The book taught me everything I needed to know about how to put a well-crafted story down onto paper, using simple, blunt sentences and zero apologies for being truthful about capturing human nature in its rawest form, especially when it comes to the things we tend to shy away from. Since I picked up writing again a couple of years ago after recovering from a long career with an airline where I was left barely able to speak and after my body clock finally matched the one hanging on the wall, I've found that my inspiration originates from people I have come to know who were either hilarious without having any idea just how much so and/or those unable to wipe the fog from their mirror. You know, the ones you want to stand beside in the bathroom, swipe a wad of Bounty across the steam on the glass and say, "See that? That's you."
ORP: Does writing or creating energize or exhaust you? What aspects of your artistic process would you consider the most challenging or rewarding?
KC: It does both. When a good first line comes to me (usually out of nowhere), I get all fired up wanting to know what happens next. Most of the time, I myself have no idea where a story is headed but if I sit still and listen closely to a sort of voice that talks to me, the intrigue unfolds as I go along, just like it might for the reader. In my case, writing is like receiving a dictation from beyond, so much so that upon completing a first draft, I feel as if I can't take credit for having written any of it. It is only after the fact that I am able to recognize that a story was really about so-and-so or so-and-so and me. Just with, say, an extra helicopter or two thrown in for dramatic effect. And after I've revised it around eighty-seven times, I change my mind about my ownership: Yeah, I will be taking credit for it after all. There is nothing more rewarding in writing than finally getting a story as close as possible to the movie version of it you see in your head. I've never been one to get things right on the first try. For me, it’s a long, slow, tedious process and I often wonder how writers I admire from the past were able to do it with a typewriter.
ORP: Do you know more than one language? How does this influence your art and/or writing?
KC: My parents were both college professors back when that meant having the summers free. We spent almost every summer in Europe. After a few weeks in France, for example, I'd return home speaking French to the dog. I have a musical ear and suffer from a raging case of synesthesia, so languages and the duplicating of sounds comes easy to me. I just match the sounds I make with my mouth to the shapes of the sounds I see in my mind. That being said, I speak French, Spanish, Italian and Arabic. Having a knowledge of several languages makes writing in English a challenge sometimes, given that every language has its own brand of describing things which casts light on a subject from a different angle. I find myself wanting to borrow especially descriptive or poignant words or phrases from other languages when I write. I check if whatever comes to mind appears in the English dictionary as a word or a phrase we've officially adopted. If it's not there, I don't use it. Having an ear for languages is also invaluable when capturing the dialogue of non-native speakers of English. Think Ricky Ricardo.
ORP: What does vulnerability mean to you as an artist and/or writer?
KC: A good story pulls from extremes of the human experience. Everyone deep down wants to not be crazy and worries about it periodically, but all of us are to a degree, admit it. And we inevitably get busted on our nuttiness at some point anyway, so why even try to cover it up? A captivating character gets exposed on many levels whether they know/like it or not. It's what makes us human. It's what makes us loveable or not lovable and it's just fine to let a reader see that you just might know a particular subject a little too well and that yes, maybe even you have been stung a few times. If you're slightly addled as a result, run with it, set yourself free, make that proverbial lemonade. You never know who might stumble upon your work and think wow, what a coincidence, and perhaps not feel so alone on the journey. Albert Einstein gave us one of my favorite quotes: "Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous." My biggest hope in writing is that a story of mine will fall under the eyes of a reader at just the right time for them.
ORP: What books have you read many times?
KC: Children of Allah by Agnes Newton Keith, Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson, Lawrence Durrell's Justine, Bonjour Tristesse by Françoise Sagan, El Portero by Reinaldo Arenas, What Falls Away by Mia Farrow, as much poetry as I can find by Rainer Maria Rilke, and The Petroleum Wives of Tripoli, Libya's "A Taste of Seasoning" cookbook, 1972. If anyone wants a PDF of that last one, just let me know.