Boulder Magazine Winter/Spring 2007-08
web only article

Boulder as Muse: Local authors spill the beans

By Lisa Jones

Boulder Magazine wanted to know why so many writers call Boulder County home. Is it something in the air? Here, a few of the experts – successful local authors – weigh in.

T.A. Barron
Author of “The Great Tree of Avalon” series, The Merlin Effect and The Hero’s Trail

Does living in Boulder County shape your writing or your writing process?

Absolutely. Every writer is shaped by his or her environment, and I’m no exception. The writing craft requires being aware—as mindful as humanly possible—of sensuous, emotional, and spiritual qualities. That puts a lot of weight on the place a writer lives—and Boulder is a wonderfully inspiring place for me. I love the closeness to nature and high-country wilderness. The relaxed, informal, youthful feeling of this place. The openness to fresh, new ideas and the imagination. And of course, the fact that my wife and kids all love to be here in Boulder.

Does your daily writing routine incorporate your surroundings at all? Does it matter that you live in Boulder as opposed to, say, New York City or Phoenix or Portland?

From the instant I step into my writing room atop our house, my gaze is on deep greens and blues—farm fields, willow and cottonwood trees, foothills, and the summits of the Indian Peaks Wilderness. Right now, as I write, those summits are frosted with snow, inviting thoughts of cross-country skiing. Then there’s the air itself: light, clean, fresh. My windows are usually wide open. And I can’t forget the Colorado sky—so wide and unbounded that it nudges me to dream.

I’ve lived lots of other places, and always found myself writing. Take, for example, three very different places where I lived during my twenties: Katmandu, Oxford, and New York City. I found myself driven to write in all those places. In Katmandu, while recovering from illness, I wrote long journals about my travels in the impoverished urban madness of Calcutta as well as the fierce mountain splendor of the Himalayas. At Oxford, the only subject I studied hard was the hiking trails of Scotland—and while sipping Scottish tea, I wrote my first novel. Never mind that it was rejected by every publisher—more than twenty—who saw it: This was my first experience at using the medium of a story to ask some questions about life (small ones such as the nature of free will and the meaning of existence). Then, in New York City, I wrote madly whenever a tiny sliver of time appeared—mainly because I had a day job, but still longed to interpret the world through stories and poems.

Why do I tell you this? Because if you are a writer, you feel absolutely compelled to write—wherever you may be. In a closet, on a train, in forty-below-zero Alaskan winter by Mount Denali. Believe me—those are all places where I’ve found myself scribbling away with pencil and paper. I’m very glad to be in Boulder, of course: We don’t have too many forty-below winters here. But my point is, if you feel passion to write, you find a way to do it. Writing is less a way to work than a way to live.

Are you part of a local writing group?

No. Writing for me is an intensely personal, solitary craft. If I have any writing group, it’s our freewheeling, creative, energetic kids. They’re my at-home editors. In addition, there’s the host of bizarre characters who dwell in my writing room—as well as Avalon, Merlin’s isle, or a lost Native American tribe.

In your experience, how does Boulder rate as a place to write?

Tops. There are abundant sources of inspiration—especially for someone who loves the outdoors. A fox has made a den outside my window. Also, this community has an expansive, open-minded atmosphere. Boulder invites fresh ideas and worldly thinking. It’s not perfect—but for me it’s pretty close to Merlin’s isle.

David Barsamian
Author of Propaganda and the Public Mind: Conversations with Noam Chomsky, Eqbal Ahmad: Confronting Empire and Targeting Iran with Noam Chomsky; founder and director of Alternative Radio

Does living in Boulder County shape your writing or your writing process?

Yes, in the sense that the town is aesthetically easy on the eyes and ears. The mountains are something to look up to and the mostly clear skies help scrub the mind. We have some engaged citizenry who care about the country and world beyond the latest Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan episode or the latest i-Tune, i-Pod, i-Phone or i-Mac. KGNU is a fabulous audio resource. The Rocky Mountain Peace & Justice Center is an incubator of ideas and a nexus of resistance to the imperial warfare/corporate state.

And the Left Hand Book Store is one of the best of its kind. The relocalization movement is terrific and growing. There is some awareness about food and environmental issues. Plus Boulder has some writer-friendly cafes where I often spend a lot of time if not actually writing then ruminating and perhaps doing a crossword puzzle. And I love biking. I'm appreciative of all the bike lanes and paths. Often, when I'm pedaling, writing ideas come to me.

Marc Bekoff
Author of The Emotional Lives of Animals, How Animals Talk and Animal Passions and Beastly Virtues

Does living in Boulder County shape your writing or your writing process?

Living in boulder has a huge influence on my writing -- both for content and the writing itself. I live in the mountains, and my own personal experiences with mountain lions, red foxes, coyotes, deer, bears and various birds, lizards, and insects makes me appreciate where I live and what I write about even more. I've had 3 “close encounters of the lion kind,” once almost stepping on a lion as I walked backwards while telling a neighbor there was lion lurking around, and once opening my car door on a dark night thinking it was neighbor's dog walking toward me only to discover that the dog was behind me and it was lion trying to get into my opened car door.

And because writing is usually a “solo activity,” being able to get out and ride, hike, ski, or run so easily makes it easier to sit down and write. Although I mostly write about animal behavior -- what animals know and especially what they feel -- I'm also very interested in what's called the “human dimension” and anthropogenic (human caused) effects on animals and landscapes, how we intrude often wantonly and ruthlessly into the lives of other beings as we “redecorate nature.” And living here makes me realize how fragile natural systems are and how me must make every effort to coexist with wildlife.

In your experience, how does Boulder rate as a place to write?

Having spent time in numerous places around the world, Boulder is as good a place to be as anywhere for my writing. There's the outdoors, gorgeous weather, a great university, and great bookstores; and there are also many people who are interested in animals and nature, so there's no lack of resources. I also teach a course on animal behavior and conservation biology as part of the transitions program at the Boulder County Jail, and my students there are very inspiring as well.

Margaret Coel
Author of the novels The Girl With Braided Hair, The Drowning Man and A Killer Stitch: A Knitting Mystery

Does your daily writing routine incorporate your surroundings at all? Does it matter that you live in Boulder as opposed to, say, New York City or Phoenix or Portland?

I write about the West, the history, culture, breathtaking landscapes and independent-minded people. So what better place to live than Boulder? From my study window, I have a panoramic view of the mountains on the west and the plains stretching to the east. I draw inspiration from this place every day. I'm trying to imagine that I might be just as inspired if I lived somewhere else … but I'm having trouble imagining that.

Another great thing is that Boulder is a book town. People actually read here. They crowd the libraries and bookstores. They love books. I think writers get a lot of strength and courage from living and working among people who think that what they do is worthwhile, that we might actually be making some kind of contribution to society. Not every town would think so.

Do you belong to a writing group?

I've belonged to a couple of writing groups in the past, but not anymore. I simply don't have the time. But I love being part of the informal writing community. There are lots of writers in Boulder, and I've always found them to be a generous and supportive lot. Let's face it, writing is a tough business. It's sort of "us" against the big publishing world. I think the writers here instinctively get it: We either encourage one another and hold one another up, or we all sink together.

Jala Pfaff
Author of the novel Seducing the Rabbi, as well as short fiction, essays and poetry published in Rose & Thorn, Slow Trains, Hiss Quarterly and Word Riot

Does living in Boulder County shape your writing or your writing process?

I live in Boulder (in fact, I have Niwot's Curse and have in the past found myself moving back here when I've tried to live elsewhere) and am author of “Seducing the Rabbi,” a humorous novel actually set in Boulder. Boulder is an integral part of this novel, to me a protagonist in its own right. A kind of sad anecdote: a major New York house -- every writer's dream, trust me -- at one point offered to publish it, but only if I were willing to "change the setting from Boulder to New York City--since no one cares about Boulder, Colorado." I preferred to self-publish rather than do that; my book is a praise for this town's uniqueness and also a gentle laugh at all that makes Boulder what it is: the oft-odd interactions between hippies and yuppies, New-Agers and ultra-ultra-marathoners.

One of my favorite places to write is at the Trident Cafe, even though I usually have to bring earplugs; the music is usually chosen by 20-something baristas and turns me into one of those curmudgeonly Old Folks, grumbling about "that infernal noise that passes for music these days..." I do, though, write well when on vacation--Costa Rica ended up being a trip that inspired and continues to inspire most of my short stories. I used to try to write outdoors here sometimes -- Chautauqua Park, or the creek path area -- but I seem unable to do so. I end up just vegetating instead of writing. I think there's something about a cafe that gives me my ideal writing conditions: people around but mostly in their own little spheres, the occasional friend you run into, the fact that your computer is there in front of you so you might as well get down to business, and a good steaming soy decaf latte... And people watching, when you're pondering a turn of phrase or a plot twist. I'm one of those strange people: an academic my whole life, and yet I am incapable of working if seated at an actual desk of any kind, including and perhaps especially in a hushed atmosphere like a library or a den. For me, it's not A Room of One's Own that is required, but a Cafe Table of One's Own, I suppose.

Having authored a book that is actually about Boulder (and that even features many of Boulder's iconic personages, e.g., Zip Code Man, and the busker who throws playing cards onto the roofs along Pearl Street) has occasionally proved a bit weird, with strangers coming up to me and blurting out, "Oh my god! I know exactly who you were talking about in that chapter...!" or "Oh my god, I'm positive your Steven (or Bob, or Donald) is my ex-boyfriend!" Okay, granted, some of my characters are based on real people -- though not all, of course. It is fiction.

Do you belong to a writing group?

I myself am not currently involved in a writing group -- I simply don't have time these days (I'm a full-time student at the Colorado Academy of Art), and I'm not sure writing groups really work for me anyway. It's strange to me to listen to people read their work aloud (though I do go to readings if it's an author I've just always been curious about, like T.C. Boyle). All those "he said, she responded, he added, she commented" things that work just fine written down don't seem to work at all when read aloud -- by me or anyone else. I've never even listened to a book on tape. I seem to hold the unpopular opinion that what was created, designed to be read in one's head (i.e., silently) is just not the same animal as something composed to be read aloud (e.g., a play, a speech). I do know, however, that there are a great many writing groups and book clubs going on in Boulder--I have friends who can vouch for this fact.

Marianne “Mimi” Wesson
Author of Chilling Effect (Lucinda Hayes Mysteries), A Suggestion of Death and Render Up the Body

Does living in Boulder County shape your writing or your writing process?

I lived in Boulder from 1976, when I moved here, until about five years ago. I still work here; I’ve taught at the CU Law School for thirty years. One of my favorite Boulder memories is going out for a run, one day back when I lived on Bluff Street, and in the course of half an hour crossing paths first with Frank Shorter and then with Allen Ginsberg. Each was running faster than I was, but I think Frank had a bit of an edge on Allen. (Neither one of them knew me, of course.)

My husband Ben and I purchased some property north of Lyons. We raise llamas, and wanted a place large enough to keep them with us all the time. We and the llamas live in a mountain valley at the end of five miles of dirt road, out of sight of even our closest neighbors; it feels like we’re about a million miles from anywhere.

In all of my previous books, Boulder was a sort of character, because they were set here where my protagonist Cinda Hayes had her law practice. The energy of so many creative Boulder people—not only writers, but also other sorts of artists and innovators—does blow around me and fill the sails of my own ambitions as a writer. And it’s easy to find really talented, smart people to read and critique my work; that’s a huge advantage.

Does your daily writing routine incorporate your surroundings at all? Does it matter that you live in Boulder as opposed to, say, New York City or Phoenix or Portland?

I think that for most writers, the real work of writing (I don’t mean the work of being a writer, which includes all those readings, appearances, sending e-mails to everyone you know like they’re just dying to hear about your latest book, etc.) requires only a quiet space (maybe this is optional for some, but not for me); something to record your work on (I use a laptop); something to say; and oceans of time. The last is the hardest to secure, especially for those of us who have a rather demanding day job. I’ve talked to writers who set the alarm and wake up in the middle of the night to write from 3-5am, and they fill me with both admiration and despair because I know I could never do that. I do have summers, and am lucky to be in a profession where writing and publishing is part of the job description (although there’s always a lingering suspicion that the kind of writing I do doesn’t really count at the CU Law School, at least not like some dreary disquisition with four-figure footnoting). So when it comes to the actual writing, I don’t think it matters much where, as long as one can satisfy those four requirements.

But there is another thing that’s important, at least to me, and it’s related to identity more than to production: I need occasional reinforcement for the idea that I am a writer. Being around folks like Tom Barron and Maggie Coel and Jon Krakauer, occasionally being on panels or at gatherings with them, even being included in articles like this one—it helps on those days when the pile of papers and schedule of meetings is crushing and I wonder if I am really a writer at all. If I were, wouldn’t I be doing something else? I used to have breakfast from time to time with Jeff Long [author of Deeper and The Descent] before he moved to Breckenridge; it was great for many reasons, but perhaps most because when we parted I was always full of vocational confidence—not because I’d just created anything, because I hadn’t, but because we had been so plainly two writers talking about writing, as though there could be no doubt that’s what we were meant to be doing.

Do you belong to a writing group?

I have been in writing groups from time to time, but mysteriously they always seem to have a life of about eighteen months, and then they fall apart. Right now I’m in a group of women artists who share work and encouragement, but we are not all writers—some are stage directors and actresses, photographers, and visual artists. And I occasionally run my work by some of my law school colleagues as well. I get wildly different reactions and advice from the two groups, but that’s great! There are also various friends who, although not necessarily writers, are excellent readers and willing to read my stuff in draft form. I am really grateful to them (you know who you are!).

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