Author Q&A

When Katie Wakes
by Connie May Fowler

(Page 2 of 2)

Q: You've been open about the fact that your personal life—and abuse—informs your fiction. How was it different recording your experiences and feelings in a memoir, rather than in a novel?

A: Novelists have tremendous freedom. We invent time, reality, perceptions, even spatial constructs. And the paradox is that within this fantasy world, verisimilitude must reign supreme. Memoirists, on the other hand, must remain faithful to an external set of facts and then convey those facts with all the flair and craft of the finest fiction writer. So I was extremely preoccupied with recording events accurately, honestly, unaided by fiction's wavy glass.

Q: You spent time as a journalist and editor, then embarked upon screenwriting, novel writing, and this memoir. While you were writing When Katie Wakes, how did your professional experience come into play? Did you feel like a reporter recording the facts, or was it an emotionally fraught experience?

A: Both. I had to be a reporter. But even the best reporter, from time to time, becomes emotionally involved in her story. And it usually turns out to be the best work of her life.

Q: How long did this book take to complete? Did you devote yourself to it on a constant basis, or did it take shape over time?

A: It took less than a year to write. It was like being shot out of a cannon: sudden, surprising, thrilling, terrifying—and all the while praying you'll survive, that you'll have a soft landing. Katie wasn't a book I had planned to write. But when my dog, Kateland, died, I knew I had to write this memoir. I had to do something that might honor her life.

Q: Your dog, Kateland, plays a central role in the book. What does the title When Katie Wakes evoke to you? Were there other titles you considered?

A: I kicked around quite a few titles, all of them awful. Then I reread the memoir, looking solely for lines that jumped out at me, lines that said, "Hey! Look at me. I'm the echo that doesn't let the reader sleep." And as I did that I realized that Katie exhibited a pattern: She never slept if I was in danger. She became my guide. Ultimately, after one long and violent night, after my abuser's rage had subsided, she napped. I did not. I waited for her to wake. When she did, I gathered my courage and together we left. So the title, for me, speaks to my awakening consciousness and resolve.

Q: In the book, you say you first saw Katie cowering under a tarp, separate from her siblings. What immediately drew you to her?

A: I understood her loneliness. And her fear. I thought maybe we could help each other.

Q: Kateland often escapes out of the yard, but never runs away. Did you consciously see this image as a metaphor for your own situation, or is that something that occurred to you while you were writing When Katie Wakes?

A: At the time I was living it, I did not consciously see Katie's escaping ways as a metaphor for my own life. A conscious reading was impossible given the mental and physical terror I was experiencing on a daily basis.

But, in retrospect, I do believe it was subconsciously needling me. And that's why it flowed naturally onto the page once I set out to write the memoir.

Q: Why did you decide to write the book in the present tense, with the memories of your childhood in the past tense?

A: I wanted to address my abuser in present tense because I wanted the reader to feel the immediacy of the situation. My goal was total immersion: Here you are in this horrendous situation and you are scared and panicked and beaten. Now, what are you going to do? Are you just going to pick up and leave? No, you're not, because the simplest decisions are beyond your grasp; forget trying to make monumental ones. Because your abuser has cast a barbed net over you. Every movement—whether it's toward freedom or placation—could kill you. As for the childhood memories, they are also in present tense much for the same reason. In the "Connie as a young woman" sections, I occasionally slip into expository prose in which I look back onto my childhood. These sections are necessary because they allow me to reflect on the past and my upbringing and to begin to make decisions, discern patterns. They also provide context, so I think they are helpful to the reader.

Q: In the book's acknowledgments, you mention the "tragic lives and unintentional sins" of your parents. At the end of the book, however, you express your eternal love for them. Why do you feel that they often resorted to violence? Which of their good characteristics do you hope to emulate?

A: They did live tragic lives and commit unintentional sins. That doesn't obliterate my love for them. They were flawed humans, as we all are. And while I will wish with my last breath that they had found other means to express their sorrow, rage, helplessness, I will not be bitter that they were unable to do so. I will remember. I will try to give the good more weight than the bad. At their best, both my parents were smart, talented, charismatic, and deeply in love. At their best, they loved life. At their best, they approached life with astonishing zeal and vigor. That is what I'm learning to do. I'm learning that I can't turn all the dross into gold, but I sure as heck can insist upon claiming my own happiness.

Q: What themes of your childhood were echoed in your life as a young adult?

A: My love of animals and the fact they were and are a source of infinite joy and solace. My love of nature. My fascination with myth and religion. My desire that we treat each other fairly, with good intentions, with open and honest hearts, and with clear-eyed empathy. I have always believed that if we daily nurture our empathetic impulses that racism, fascism, and other forms of meanness will wither.

Q: You never name your boyfriend in When Katie Wakes. Why do you refer to him as "you" throughout the book? By making that choice, did you direct the book's content toward him, like a letter or epistle of sorts?

A: Oh, yes, the memoir is surely an epistle of sorts. Do you know how empowering that is? For a victim to be able to address her abuser and say, "This is what you did to me. You will listen. You will know." It's incredibly cathartic. You see, men who batter women do so out of a need for power. And part of the power play is to render their victim silent. By writing down my story—by saying, "This is what you did to me"— I took back what he had stolen from me. My voice.

Q: In When Katie Wakes, you remark upon the dichotomy of your identity—the struggle of the professional young woman versus the cowed child who became an abused adult. How adept did you become at living, in essence, a double life? Was it difficult to learn to leave that behind?

A: All abused children lead double lives. It is, first and foremost, a survival mechanism. It is also something our abusers demand. And, there is something about the human psyche—particularly that of a child—that insists we are to blame and must protect the abuser at all costs. So, sadly, I have always been extremely adept at hiding the realities of my personal life. As for leaving it behind . . . it is something I'm just learning to do. Every day I wake and remind myself that I will not engage in relationships that are hurtful. Every day I school myself on how to recognize the warning signs. Every day I try to undo a lifetime of negative learning.

Q: Of conversations with your sister, you say: "We never get to the truth. We glide to the surface, afraid." How did you begin to delve deeper into reality, not only with your sister, but with yourself?

A: Very simply, through my writing. The act of telling the tale has always been an exercise in salvation.

Q: How did the need for orthodonture—and a whole new jaw— affect the way you felt about yourself? Was there one event that spurred you to begin the arduous process of fixing your mouth?

A: I don't want to go into the long, sordid tale of how that made me feel. And there were many events that contributed to my desire to "fix my face." What I want to concentrate on is the me of today—a person who deals with the world head on, honestly, and who expects others to do likewise.

Q: It seems as though fate did play a role in many events in your life. Why do you sometimes classify fate as "payback"?

A: During the time period in which Katie takes place, I often felt that I was the cause of whatever problems came my way. I was taught that I wasn't worthy of happy experiences, that whatever came my way in terms of unhappiness was because I was a bad person. I suppose if we look at this from a Buddhist perspective—whether the events be positive or negative—we are talking broadly about karma. And karma, given what I'd been through, can be a very slippery slope.

Q: Do you feel that your fiction and nonfiction writing is still influenced by your poetic passions? Do you still feel like a poet at heart?

A: Yes, I do consider myself a poet at heart. And I look upon my novels and this memoir simply as long-form poems.

Q: In your opinion, was there one turning point in the abusive relationship when you realized you had to leave? A series of small ones that accumulated? What were they?

A: I always knew I had to leave. From the first abusive accusation to the final physical assault, I knew I had to leave. The key for myself and anyone who is in a similar situation is finding the pathway out. It is not easy. It is extremely difficult for so many reasons. The most dangerous time for a woman in an abusive relationship is when she leaves—that is when the majority of domestic violence homicides occur. When I say domestic violence homicides I am talking about the murder of the wife, or the children, or the family pet, or the combination of all three. And the battered woman instinctively understands this. Add to themix the many complex issues of family, money, transportation, children, pets, jobs, shelter. It is a crime to ask the question, "Why doesn't she just leave?" The question ought to be, "Why hasn't society insisted he be put in jail and sentenced to mandatory counseling?"

Q: When you finally do leave your boyfriend, you think to your-self that you don't want Mika to be the reason you are leaving— you want to leave because you are a strong and independent woman. Why was making this distinction so important to you?

A: Because I didn't leave my abuser for another relationship. I left my abuser because I had finally discovered not only the pathway out but the strength to embark upon that long and dangerous journey.

Q: You mention in When Katie Wakes that you "inhaled books." Which authors—both fiction and nonfiction—have had the most profound influence on you and your writing?

A: As a child, Lois Lenksi's Strawberry Girl. As an adolescent, St. Augustine's Confessions and the poetry of Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, and T.S. Eliot. As an adult, well, it's hard to name just a few. I guess I'd have to say Flannery O'Connor, Katherine Anne Porter, Tennessee Williams, Edward Albee, Pablo Neruda, Federico Garcia Lorca, William Faulkner, Zora Neale Hurston, Harper Lee, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, Virginia Wolfe. This is a woefully incomplete list.

Q: It's heart-wrenching that you had to put Katie to sleep. Have you ever considered getting another dog?

A: At the time of Katie's death I had three other dogs. A year after her death I adopted a fourth, Kula Buwili, an Australian Kelpie. My dogs are Atticus, Scout (both schipperkes are named in honor of To Kill a Mockingbird), Cocoa Lupina, and Kula Buwili.

Q: Your Women with Wings Foundation is dedicated to helping women and children in need. How did you come to start this foundation? What's its mission, and do you remain involved with it on a day-to-day basis?

A: I established the foundation when Oprah Winfrey made my novel Before Women Had Wings into a film. Basically, the foundation is me and whoever I can cajole into giving their time. We've established a medical clinic at Refuge House, the domestic violence and sexual assault shelter in the greater Tallahassee area. We have helped fund a new emergency shelter for Refuge House, held fundraisers, worked to get books donated for the children . . . that sort of thing. I love the work I do in the domestic violence community.

Q: You and Mika recently decided to separate. How does this event mark another watershed moment for you? How does it inform the ending of the book?

A: This is a very difficult subject for me to discuss. Of course, it is a watershed moment for both of us. It is extremely sad and upsetting and horribly complicated. As for the ending of Katie, we will both always love Katie. So she will always be honored. By loving Katie we ascend. That will never change. I live in the cottage where we buried her. So I look out upon her daily, and weed her grave, and plant flowers around her, and love her with a purity that I hope transcends death.

Q: Did you write this memoir with a specific audience in mind—battered women, for example? Or was it more of a cathartic exercise for yourself?

A: Neither. I wrote it to honor Katie. And if it speaks to people, if it helps a battered or formerly battered woman to heal, if it sheds light on what it is like to be in that situation so that the reader gains greater empathy, then I will have done my job and so much more.

Q: Do you plan to write a follow-up to this memoir, of your life with Mika and beyond? Or do you plan to tackle another novel next?

A: I am working on a new novel, The Problem with Murmur Lee. I am anxious to delve back into novels. It is where I am most comfortable.

Copyright © 2002 by Connie May Fowler. Excerpted by permission of Ballantine Books, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

About the Author

Connie May Fowler is an essayist and screenwriter, as well as the author of three previous novels, including Sugar Cage and River of Hidden Dreams. In 1996, she published Before Women Had Wings, later a successful "Oprah Winfrey Presents" TV movie, winner of the 1996 Southern Book Critics Circle Award, and paperback bestseller. She lives in Florida with her husband.