By Claire Fullerton
Recently I was called a
“Southern writer,” which tickled me silly because my latest novel takes
place on the western coast of Ireland, and as I’ve spent the last year
mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and creatively enmeshed in the magical land
of my forebears, I had to take a step back and think about this
classification.
I will say this: as a
Southerner, I’m a dead giveaway. I speak in the regionally specific, rolling
tones of what’s known as the Delta accent. All my childhood friends do, because
the Delta accent is passed down generationally along with the family china;
it’s a tribal source of identification, lyrically revelatory of one’s place in
the world. And a Southerner is definitely tethered to a place in the world, and
there are many Southern loyalists who stand fiercely beside them no matter the
change of venue or the passage of years.
The fact is I grew up
along the bluffs of the Mississippi River, in a town so peacock proud of its
place that it gave itself the moniker “The River City” and fashioned a bridge
to stretch across that legendary watercourse in the shape of the letter “M” as
if staking claim of ownership in skywriting. Memphis is a city with every right
to be proud of its legendary artists, yet it is its artists that extol their
affiliation with the historic city. I am not perplexed by this; I think I know
exactly why.
If you come from
Memphis, you’re a thread in a particular fabric, and its people will never let
you go. You could move to Mongolia and put down roots, but no Memphian would
ever take it seriously. I happen to know this without question: although I am
now long in California, I am still in the flow of a rhythm gifted to me at
birth. When something of significance happens in Memphis, I am connected to a
grapevine that makes its vibrant livewire straight to me. In a land where
you’re indelibly one of us, what happens to one affects us all, world without
end, amen.
But it’s not any different in Ireland. After spending a year there followed by subsequent visits, I started to feel I was Irish myself. I grew compatible with the region and comfortable with the Irish culture—so much so that there’s a part of me cordoned away that sees the world through Irish eyes.
But it’s not any different in Ireland. After spending a year there followed by subsequent visits, I started to feel I was Irish myself. I grew compatible with the region and comfortable with the Irish culture—so much so that there’s a part of me cordoned away that sees the world through Irish eyes.
I think a writer has to
be fluid with the idea of wearing different hats. I think they have to possess
the ability to slide in chameleon-like to whatever grabs their fancy and
immerse themselves fully until it resonates. If they do, they can get about the
business of doing what they do best and put the experience into words.
______________________________________________________________________
Claire Fullerton is the author of “Dancing to an Irish Reel” (Literary Fiction) and “A Portal in Time,” (Paranormal Mystery), both
from Vinspire Publishing. She is an
award winning essayist, a contributor to magazines, a five time contributor to
the “Chicken Soup for the Soul” book series, and a former newspaper columnist.
Claire grew up in Memphis, TN and now lives in Malibu, CA with her husband, two
German shepherds and one black cat. Currently, she is writing her third novel, about
a Southern family. She has appeared recently on Author Visits blog hosted by Susan Reichert editor-in-chief of Southern Writers Magazine. She can be found on social media at https://www.facebook.com/clairefullertonauthor?ref=hl and http://www.clairefullerton.com/
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