Annie Proulx

I never thought of myself as a writer. I only backed into it through having to make a living. And then I discovered that I could actually do it. I thought there was some arcane fellowship that you knew at birth that you had to belong to in order to be a writer.

I did not want to be involved in office politics. I am not a person who works well with others. Having to get along with people you don’t respect very much, having to deal with a bureaucracy, just that whole weight of idiots turned me off. The writing life is a perfect life for me. I can do my own thing and I can work at three a.m. if I want to.

The last rodeo I went to was in Oklahoma. Boise City, or as they call it, “Boys City.” The announcer was completely drunk, the contestants were all drunk. It was insanely hot. Real characters there. There was one guy with hair that came down to his ass who carried a pint of Jack Daniel’s in one back pocket and a pistol in the other. I based the rodeo in That Old Ace in the Hole on that rodeo.

Most of the people I know in Wyoming are very light drinkers if they drink anything. Their drink is Mountain Dew. They’re into caffeine rushes instead of stupors. I think it’s because the habit of work here is extremely powerful. People work and it’s considered the highest virtue.

Bars are social places here. They’re not so much for drinking as they are for hanging out. It’s the only place—there are no community centers, no movie theaters, no restaurants. You go to the bar and you have a few with your pals. There used to be a beautiful bar up in Ucross and there’d be cowboys at the end of the day in there; there’d be old ladies with their knitting; there’d be somebody repairing small motors over in the corner. It was very much a social center.

He had all the alcohol problems rolled into one. I have known several alcoholics. My first father-in-law was a heavy drinker. He was mired in the twenties. And I lived with somebody who was a boozer so I’ve had considerable experience with heavy drinkers and they’re a tedious bunch.

INTERVIEWER: Were you surprised at the popularity of The Shipping News?

PROULX: Yes of course—your second novel is supposed to be an absolute dud. I was sort of counting on that. Most of the novels have been enjoyable to write either because of the subject or the research. I wrote that one because I was madly in love with Newfoundland, so for me it was a joy. I bought a place in Newfoundland and used to go up there every summer for years.

INTERVIEWER: The people in the fictional town of Killick-Claw get an encyclopedia and they’re shocked to see Newfoundland in it. Were your neighbors in Newfoundland shocked that you’d written about them?

PROULX: Most rural people are angry when I write about their places because they’re not presented in great glowing hosannas. I don’t say that they’re the greatest places on earth. They can’t bear any kind of criticism. They know they’re in the best place in the world, but I don’t seem to realize that. It infuriates them. There were lots of people in Newfoundland who hated the book because it wasn’t all sweetness and light. The same way the Wyoming stories infuriated people because it wasn’t all about wonderful things. If you want to write about bad things you have to write murder mysteries. But I don’t. People come up to me and tell me what they think. But there are lots of people here who like the books very much. It balances out.

-Paris Review