Instead of anchoring the news this weekend, I am free to take a Zumba class. So, this afternoon, I dance, and then hit the treadmill to read Alafair Burke’s newest book ANGEL’S TIP. I’ll be interviewing her tomorrow, and I’ll tell you more about her thriller after that.
Alafair and I have had several conversations over the years, made easier by a twist of fate that led her to Portland — where I live — where she was a deputy district attorney for Multnomah County. This is in stark contrast to her dad, the bestselling author James Lee Burke who is from Texas and Louisiana. Alafair’s voice would sound at home on any Portland street. James’ speaking voice is gentled by a southern blend that sounds like “kindness” and “dad” to me.
Alafair’s dad, of course. I love listening to him. Especially since he has this down-home wisdom. A few years ago, when I was interviewing James Lee Burke about his book PURPLE CANE ROAD, I asked him — like I ask every author — “what is your best hope for your book?” Some authors are glib, and respond “the New York Times bestseller list” and then, often embarrassed about that glibness, reveal their passionate connection with the material, often a revelation I would not expect. Novelists often strain past the obvious “to entertain” and again add spice to the interview. Other authors — like Burke — knock it out of the park.
James Lee Burke wowed me this particular time with his answer. It is packed with wisdom and applicable in a much broader respect. Like to Life. After the interview, I listened to the tape over and over, transcribing his words:
“I never try to impose meaning on the work. A fellow told me a long time ago, never keep score. The score takes care of itself. Bear down on the batter one pitch at a time, and you’ll be pleasantly surprised by the arithmetic on the scoreboard at the bottom of the ninth.”
A study long ago concluded that women learn about success from their fathers. I wince a bit when I consider that I didn’t have that opportunity — so I learn from other peoples’ fathers.
When I see Alafair tomorrow, maybe we’ll talk about her and her dad’s wisdom.
