In her live journal entry yesterday, author Poppy Z. Brite wrote about how she has never doubted that New Orleans is where she belongs. Brite's house was damaged by Katrina but she and her husband still moved back there to a rented apartment. Clearly, she could not wait to get home. I thought that was so cool - that Brite is so certain of where her home is. I grew up in Florida and didn't leave until my 20s, but honestly, I don't feel as if I'm home when I go back there anymore. The area has changed so much that it is largely unfamiliar and since I'm not a Wal-mart/strip mall lover, what is there is not so appealing to me. There are parts of Florida that are quite beautiful, but not my part, if that makes any sense.
It does not feel anything but sad to me when I see it now.
But Alaska was not home either and I'm not so sure that this small town in Washington State is either. I just don't feel any sense that I belong here - any of the certainty that Brite seems to know without question. I don't know what you do about that, but it's something to think about.
Chin Music has launched the Voices of New Orleans - a new site in association with the wonderful essay collection Do You Know What it Means to Miss New Orleans. I will be contributing over there in the near future, writing about books set in New Orleans (hopefully some by Ms. Brite!) and also short stories or essays or songs. I'm hoping to talk to some writers, to see how they crafted their work around the city and Southern Louisiana, and why they are so sure that it was the place where their words belonged.
How do you know that you story belongs to a certain city? If it could be anywhere (like my YA story) how do you know that it must be in that certain place? How do you know that it is home for your characters?
In other words, if I can't figure out where my home is, how can I be confident that I have given my characters the right place to live?
It's crazy isn't it - I wonder if Poppy Z. Brite realizes how lucky she is.
