By Cassandra King Conroy
While I can’t say that My Reading Life by Pat Conroy changed my life, it certainly impacted my life. It is one of those rare “read again and again” volumes. Intrigued, I dug deeper into the work of the man who has sold some 20 million volumes.
Why?
For starters, if you want to be a better writer, read great writers. Conroy is one of those writers: The Prince of Tides, The Great Santini, The Water is Wide and Beach Music to name a few. Second, I like to catch glimpses of how writers approach their craft in an effort to learn myself. So, when I saw Tell Me A Story, Cassandra King Conroy’s memoir of her 18 years of marriage to Pat Conroy, I wanted to hear what she had to say.
Cassandra King Conroy is a best-selling and award-winning author herself. Her volumes include:
The Sunday Wife
Making Waves
The Same Sweet Girls
Queen of Broken Hearts
Moonrise
And while having “best-selling” and “award-winning-author” attached to an one’s name doesn’t guarantee a great read; in my book, the possibility of a strong story is, well . . . stronger! I wasn’t disappointed.
Read the memoir and you’ll discover why it has been described as “touching,” “breathtakingly tender,” “humorous and deeply moving,” and a book “penned with a profound sense of love.”
Cassandra King Conroy helps us to understand Conroy’s troubled past and the unique way he processed and profited from it (and I’m not implying monetary gains when using that word). At one point she writes,
I was beginning to get a better picture of how the damage of childhood abuse is carried over into adulthood. I’d been unbelievable fortunate to grow up with loving, uncomplicated parents. Pat was at the top of his game, where every writer dreams of being, but beneath the successful facade would always be a hurt little boy. 79
Turning the pages of their years together we learn about her interesting past as well. The daughter of loving and practical parents, she also “came from a generation of southern women born to be pleasers, to be devout and well-behaved young ladies who didn’t make waves” (137). King-Conroy was married to a preacher for twenty years before meeting Conroy; living in the fishbowl only a small town Southern church-parsonage can provide while enduring an abusive marriage. So don’t be surprised when her worldview is “otherworldly,” but syncretistic as fate, “the gods,” Tarot cards, and spiritualists are common to her.
Of course, when you read a book by a storyteller about a storyteller you will likely meet other writers. Such is the case with Tell Me A Story. Here are a few:
Anne Rivers Siddons (Peachtree Road, Colony)
Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings (Cross Creek)
Rick Bragg (All Over but the Shoutin’)
Josephine Humphreys (Rich in Love, Dreams of Sleep)
Takeaways:
Observations on writing observing two great writers:
“You’re a writer” - When they first met, Cassandra King Conroy was a budding writer, embarrassed to use that appellation in reference to herself. Conroy wouldn’t have it. “What’d you mean, you’re not really a writer? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You’ve got a book coming out. You wrote it, right? Therefore, you’re a writer.” 18
Writers write what they know. “The old adage ‘Write what you know’ took on a whole new meaning that night. No writer has ever take that advice quite so literally as Pat Conroy.” 64-65
Writers must nourish their craft. “It shames me to admit that I’d never had the self-respect to made demands in order to nurture my own career. Although my love of writing was an essential part of me, as essential to my well-being as air, it took me years before I’d treat my writing as seriously and respectfully, let alone nourish it.” 130
Writers need a writing place. “Pat had been appalled to hear that I’d never claimed a space for myself in any of the houses I’d occupied in my previous marriage." When they moved into his house, she refused to make a room “her” writing room. “But Pat wouldn’t listen to my protests. I was, by God, going to have my own writing room.” It was his gift to her. Cassandra writes, “it remains the best thing anyone has ever given me.”
The publishing business is work. Both Conroys devoted significant time to book signings and appearances to launch new projects and maintain relationships in their industry and with their fans.
Promotion is part of the writer’s life Initially, Cassandra King Conroy was hesitant about approaching Conroy for a blurb. Josephine Humphreys once told an audience in Charleston, “that if were true and I hadn’t asked Pat for a blurb, then I was the only writer in the South who hadn’t.” 24
Listen to your body:
Cassandra King Conroy:
“I'd been so focused on pat and Nancy Jane that the next health scare to come along caught me off guard. This time, it was me who got blindsided. In the summer of 2013 the stress, grief, and worry of the past years caught up with me, and I got thrown for a loop. One thing I should have known by then: if we don't listen to our bodies, they have a way of getting our attention. And it's never pretty.” 314
You can’t say, “Yes” to everything without paying the price:
Conroy worked with the USC Press, Story River, to help first-time novelists launch their work. Cassandra Conroy writes, “His work for USC was strictly pro bono, and his payment came from the pride he took in his writers’ successes. He sometimes groused that Jonathan was demanding too much of him, and that he’d never get his own book finished. Unfortunately, Pat had a valid point — there's just so much time in the day. As much as he loved doing it, his work with Story River threatened to consume him. I tried to help him find some middle ground.
”You've launched Story River,” I argued. “You don't have to go to every signing with every author. They're doing well — let them fly there on their own.” Although he agreed with me, easing up proved difficult for him. He was fully invested and determined to see it through. 334
On growing old:
Cassandra King Conroy had been told by a friend that she needed to get her eyes fixed, meaning plastic surgery to tighten her droopy eyelids. Pat responded:
“Fixed? What does that mean?”
I leaned toward him and tugged at my droopy eyelids with my fingertips. “you know. Fixed.”
Pat scoffed. “Bull****. I don't want you to look different. Can't we just let ourselves grow old?”
The challenge to allow ourselves to grow old in a culture obsessed with youth is a refreshing word.
Recommendation:
Tell Me A Story is honest!
I appreciate Cassandra King Conroy’s willingness to bare her soul as she shares their story. Early in the book she writes of a life-changing experience,
Before I fell into an exhausted sleep, I decided that things were going to changer. I was sick of myself—or I would’ve been if I had any idea who I was. All my life I’d tried to live up to what others expected of me: first my mother, then my [first] husband and the good folks of the church. I couldn’t do it anymore. 56
The honesty reveals her worldview.
She writes, “Although I’d been raised in a pious, churchgoing family, I’ve never been particularly pious myself” (136). Then where is redemption to be found? In the arts.
Reflecting on her previous marriage, and in her forthright prose she notes:
Sometime during this period, I not only lost myself, I lost God as well. At different points in my life, I’d toyed with Buddhism and Hinduism but eventually found more meaning in the comfortable fit of the familiar, the timeless rituals of a community of believers. But even that lost meaning . . . . The only thing that mattered was making sure no one suspected how lost I was, how empty inside. . . . A spiritual connection wasn’t possible because there was nothing inside me to connect with. 143
And what brought healing? The arts.
Little did I know at the time, but during that feverish, stumbling journey of self-discovery, I was creating the underlying themes of all the books I’d write from that point onward. The loss of self, the search for identity, and the ultimate redemption through art would become the foundation for the stories I’d tell, over and over. 144
Her worldview fails to take me higher than this world
I admire Cassandra King Conroy. What she has accomplished after what she has endured, the people she has enlightened, entertained, and encouraged, and the picture of love between man and woman are all laudable. But self-discovery always ends with self, that “under the sun” search for meaning that brings a certain kind of redemption, but not worthy of “ultimate” as she promises. That wholeness can only come at the end of ourselves. To those of us who have felt her pain, Jesus says, “Come unto me all you who labor and are heavy burdened and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28 NIV).
Tell Me A Story was a wonderful read. Encouraging, honest as noted, and full of life. I recommend it for all the reasons above, but for her readers, I’m left hoping for a redemption that rises above the arts, above the sun, to the Artist who will restore the damaged art within us and one day make all things new.
