It's been more than two months sce William Gay's ath. Although I didn't know him, I know his voice and mourn what uld have been, and what should still be.
Contents:
- POSIVELY WILLIAM GAY
- BOOK REVIEW: WILLIAM GAY’S GREATNS LIV ON POSTHUMO PUBLITN
- WILLIAM GAY
- CELEBRATG WILLIAM GAY
- I LOVE WILLIAM GAY’S ‘THE LONG HOME’
- WILLIAM GAY DI AT 70; WRER TIED TO TENNSEE
POSIVELY WILLIAM GAY
“I thk wrers have to have a touchstone. The ral landspe is me. Sometim I wre scen jt to get to wre a summer storm.” –William Gay * william gay writer *
William Gay grew up Grrs Creek near a serted mg town—a place where he bas his well-known fictnal wasteland, the Harrik. On the horizon are Gay’s wily anticipated fourth novel, The Lost Country, and the film Provc of Night wh Kris Kristofferson playg a ma character.
The acclaimed Tennsee wrer William Gay, who died 2012, cut a figure as tough and scraggly as the world he scrib, a homely place that seems barely hacked out of the of speratn motor low on thermals of vlence.
BOOK REVIEW: WILLIAM GAY’S GREATNS LIV ON POSTHUMO PUBLITN
The acclaimed Tennsee wrer William Gay, who died 2012, cut a figure as tough and scraggly as the world he scrib, a homely place that seems * william gay writer *
Whe, the bwebbed attic of Gay’s log to “Team Gay, ” a voted terie of wrers, scholars and iends, some based Atlanta, who have eded his four posthumo novels, “Stori om the Attic” is betifully put together and fictn sectns track Gay’s artistic path om the 1970s — his perd of “lyril realism, ” as Whe scrib — to the darg, experimental tale he was workg on at the end of his life, “The Wreck of the Tennsee Gravy Tra, ” which the protagonist is “Ushered down a dream hall” by a “badger save that walked upright like a man.
”Clay tugs on his “popskull moonshe whiskey, ” blackjackg revelers at Gobl’s Knob, the waterg hole where the oler is always “cranked” to pacify, or to fuel, the lorful reprobat of Ackerman’s Field, Gay’s imagary muny central to his ovre.
“Buddy Bradshaw and the Judge’s Dghter, ” a ridiculo piece of untry-boy cdy, volv a phallic ear of hly picked rn, and the gag only go up om a bucksk prophet of yore, Gay summons the Ameri of s distrght ontier. ”Wh s revealg tobgraphil says and valuable “Postscript” (an extend roundtable discsn nvened by “The Chattahoochee Review” of Geia State Universy/Perimeter College), “Stori om the Attic” is an important troductn to the ma currents of Gay’s wrg and his home for a time was a “dilapidated sgle wi trailer, ” acrdg to J. He published his first book when he was 59 years old, “The Long Home” (1999) between 1939 and 1943 (there is some dispute about the exact year), he grew up, Gay wr, “sharecropper circumstanc” Hohenwald, a middle Tennsee burg (populatn 4, 000), where he spent the majory of his life.
WILLIAM GAY
William Gay was the thor of the novels The Long Home and Provc of Night. His fictn appeared Harper’s and Atlantic Monthly,... * william gay writer *
He was pelled early to read and wre, though he was too poor to buy eher books or posnal his very excellent two-part say “Readg the South, ” Gay celebrat his first lov: horror ics, nascent Southern noir and Sig Books, the post-war paperback publisher whose trashy vers (and affordabily) lured the choate thor toward “unser” and ser lerature alike, i. E., om Mickey Spillane to William Flkner, who beme his Gay, Flkner was the bomb and “As I Lay Dyg” (1930) “his most fully realized book.
”If Gay was yet an exponent of the high Southern lerary tradn, he was an unnventnal one, creasgly drawn to the occult and paranormal. His supernatural Gothic thriller “Twilight” (2006) was hailed spooky-dom by Stephen Kg, the ight one lleague puts , Gay “lived a wrer’s trance.
CELEBRATG WILLIAM GAY
The are some well-known facts William Gay’s official bgraphy: that he lived a b the woods, that he didn’t e email, that he worked nstctn his whole life until someone fally noticed he was a great wrer. But the facts tell only part of the story. For rears and wrers, at * william gay writer *
As a rult he end up as the steward for the William Gay archive and has worked wh a team of William's iends and fans to prepare the massive amount of material the archive for publitn.
As one of the edors of the revered mancripts of William Gay, I am que proud to be volved wh sendg a new flock of William’s tal to fly brilliantly about the world.
She was privileged to spend time wh William Gay and his dog Knuckl so was a joy to work on unravelg and transcribg some of William's handwrten mancripts. She wrote her master cril this on the supernatural elements on William Gay’s body of work and sce that time has worked wh the William Gay Archive providg edorial assistance to publish his posthumo works. The are some well-known facts William Gay’s official bgraphy: that he lived a b the woods, that he didn’t e email, that he worked nstctn his whole life until someone fally noticed he was a great wrer.
I LOVE WILLIAM GAY’S ‘THE LONG HOME’
My new favore wrer is William Gay. His wr about a muny of backwoods Tennsee characters entangled by geography, blood, petn, greed, love, and vengeance. The thg about Gay is that he’s the strange tw brother of Cormac McCarthy... * william gay writer *
As a late-life lerary succs who didn’t attend creative-wrg programs or pay for profsnal workshops, Gay symbolized the hop of stgglg wrers, pecially ral on.
William Gay’s ath last week of heart failure sent tremors through the muny of wrers and rears Tennsee and beyond, people who loved him as a iend and as a wrer. Gay provid the excerpts 2009, as panns to a long terview he gave Chapter 16, but we chose to publish only one of them at the time, holdg the others rerve to n nnectn wh some other news Gay’s life—a big award, perhaps, or the announcement of a publitn date for the new book. We clu one of them here today, regnizg that the bt person to provi the last word on William Gay’s geo e of language and profound unrstandg of human nature is William Gay himself.
Every obuary I’ve read about William Gay—as was the se wh every newspaper or magaze profile I read about William while he was alive—featur his time the rpentry tras, particularly as a drywall hanger, almost as promently as featur his prodig gifts and acplishments as a wrer.
WILLIAM GAY DI AT 70; WRER TIED TO TENNSEE
* william gay writer *
Who knows, maybe five hundred years om now, some misguid but clamoro band of send-tier scholars will waste time batg who really wrote the books of William Gay bee, God knows, a drywall hanger om Hohenwald, Tennsee, wh ltle formal tn, would have been pable of dog so himself. At nferenc and ftivals, I liked to thk of William Gay as Home Base a strange childhood game of tag; we uld always fd each other and lose all the disfort of tryg to rema rdial to strangers.
The first words William Gay ever said to me occurred what appeared to be a ballroom si the public library Nashville. Wh his long curly hair, ep-set ey, weathered face, and his entirely hont and unaffected gaze, William Gay stck me as one of the most formidable people I’d ever met.
That sound, to me, like a William Gay story: straightforward, unsentimental honty about love and heartbreak. Over a year ago, I asked William Gay if he would nsir g seven hours om Hohenwald to Lln Memorial Universy Harrogate, Tennsee, to give a readg, and he said he would. William Gay’s work ronat wh an Appalachian sensibily—the lament and yearng of fiercely pennt characters, whether evil or nocent, who wrtle their environment as much as their history, or circumstance, or fate—renred his eloquent, speakerly storytellg.
William Gay - William Gay was born 1865 at Bridge of Weir, Renewshire, Stland. Seekg a better climate to al wh nsumptn and other chronic illns, he left for New Zealand 1885. * william gay writer *
I’m thankful Sonny cid to make the trip to Harrogate and LMU anyway, wh a photo of William Gay ridg shotgun. William Gay knew everythg about the will—the iron will—and human longg, too—and how feroc the n be si of , and how important they are to heed.
When I first read William Gay’s wrg the pag of The Oxford Amerin about ten years ago, was like I’d won some kd of lottery. After twelve months of beggg and jolg and sweet-talkg, I met William Gay person September of 2010 when he fally agreed to e to Colby College to give a readg.
His books le a shelf at my home, and one of his landsp hangs on a wall my livg room, and while those tangible objects—permanent their own perfectn—are sourc of fort this perd of loss, the tangible is what I already miss about my iend William Gay: phone lls, nversatns, hilar anecdot on road trips, an encyclopedic knowledge of lerature and mic, all livered his unmistakable Tennsee drawl. To read an excerpt om William Gay’s forthg novel, The Lost Country, please click here, and here to read an earlier excerpt om the same book.