Some of Tim's Stories (11 page)

What could you say as a mature writer through Tim that you couldn't say as a teenager through Ponyboy
?

Tim/Mike has a lot of hard-earned wisdom. Ponyboy can be wise, but he's an idealistic kid who still thinks the world can be changed. Tim knows the world's not going to change, but he's trying to figure out how to deal with it. As a bartender he realizes that when people come into the bar and pour out their stories to him, he's not there to fix their lives. As he puts it, he's not a social worker, but he figures out what people want to hear from their bartender, and he decides that's what he needs to give them. In a way, that's a cop-out. The name of that story, by the way, is “What's Your Poison?”

You've also adapted many of these stories as plays. How did placing your characters in a different format give you new insights into them and their circumstances
?

I don't know, but it was very interesting to do. I had to figure out how to work with Mike, Tim, and Terry as three separate people. I gave Mike the on-stage ability to do narration. Tim was off to the side in the same clothes writing the story.

I wonder if casting the stories as plays also gave you a better sense of dialogue—maybe even timing. As you've pointed out, Tim had to struggle with dialogue
.

I don't ever have to think about dialogue consciously.

Which of Tim's stories stand out as favorites of yours
?

“The Girl Who Loved Movies” is my favorite. It's the shortest story, but it's one of the strongest. I think of it as a metaphor that can stand by itself. I also like “Visit,” when Mike finally comes to visit Terry. And “The Missed Trip.” In that story, Mike as an adult is contemplating what would have happened if their fathers, both his and Terry's, hadn't been killed in a car wreck together. He feels pretty ashamed of his life at that point. He's in his mid-twenties—in a do-nothing job—and Terry's in prison.

In “The Girl Who Loved Movies,” you have this great closing line: “It was cliché he knew. But he meant it classic.” Did you know how lyrical those words were the moment you wrote them or did you have to wait for the initial feedback from your early readers
?

I did know. I wrote that whole story in just a few hours, realizing that was going to be my ending line.

In fact your closing lines are stunning throughout the collection. Do you think the shorter format called upon you to create more emphatic endings
?

Yes, I do. The only open-ended story in the book is the last one, “No White Light No Tunnel,” but it's still a closed chapter in Tim's mind. Some of the stories are even funny, like when Mike/Tim finally managed to get Terry worried about something in “Full Moon Birthday.” I get very upset with a book that doesn't have a strong ending, and it was almost an indulgence to have this many strong endings to work toward.

Strong endings, yes, but there's still a sense of the stories being ongoing
.

Some of the stories are unresolved, but, at their moment in time, I think they are definite. Terry didn't come home from prison and adjust immediately; Mike just hopes in the end that the old Terry is still there. And with “The Girl Who Loved Movies,” in my mind, I picture Mike looking up Amber again. But I'm not going to write a sequel. Why press my luck here?

How significant do you think Tim's stories are in your overall career as a writer
?

They're the best writing I've ever done. They may be the best writing I'll ever do. Who knows? You always think the next book's going to be the best one, unless you're writing something like
Hawkes Harbor
, which was such self-indulgent fun. But I do think these stories are going to stand the test of time and will end up being mentioned as some of my best work.

What lasting impact do you think Tim will have on you personally and professionally
?

Professionally I hope the stories will give people a broader insight into my writing. I don't pigeonhole myself, so it would be nice if readers could get over the fact—a little bit—that I wrote
The Outsiders
. I'm hoping
Some of Tim's Stories
will do well critically, but they're done. I don't plan to revisit them, but I do miss Tim sometimes.

I was going to ask about that, because you were so close to him
.

Tim's like somebody I knew once. He used to come over and tell me what was going on, not just stories, but about people getting into fights and about ladies who wanted him to walk them to their cars, supposedly for tip money but, as it turned out, not for money at all. It was really interesting being privy to that life.

You made publishing history as a teenager. What do you still have to accomplish as a writer
?

I always want to write a better book; I always want to write another book. I can't do anything else. I also want to feel productive and useful in my life, but I never think in terms of what I've got to accomplish. I don't compete with
The Outsiders
. It's there; I'm proud of it, but I'm through with it, like I am with Tim's stories.

How would you sum up your career so far
?

I've been lucky in a lot of ways. Luck got me my agent, Marilyn, or was it coincidence, synchronicity? But luck didn't sell
The Outsiders
—or the other books. I've worked hard.

Have you ever felt like writing was a responsibility
?

To a certain degree. I was given a gift, and it's my duty to use it in the best way I can. I don't want to throw it back in God's face. But the fact that I enjoy writing makes everything kind of easy.

Interviewer Teresa Miller is the editor of the Oklahoma Stories & Storytellers series and host of public television's
Writing Out Loud
. She is also the founder and executive director of the Oklahoma Center for Poets and Writers. Her writings include novels
Remnants of Glory
and
Family Correspondence
. She resides in Tulsa, Oklahoma.