Backstory: The Story Behind Perpetuating Trouble

The open­ing sen­tence of Per­pet­u­at­ing Trou­ble is absolute­ly true: “I was told to write this book by a pair of alien girls.”

That inci­dent with the alien girls, along with every­thing else in my mem­oir about the writ­ing life, real­ly hap­pened.

Enter a Pair of Alien Girls

On a glit­ter­ing Octo­ber morn­ing in 2008, I picked up two young women who were hitch­hik­ing. Before tak­ing Hoku and Astrid (their “adopt­ed” names) to the well­ness retreat cen­ter where they worked, we went to near­by Burg­er Hill Park, climbed the hill and talked.

A view of the autumn foliage from the top of Burg­er Hill.

They pro­ceed­ed to give me all kinds of advice about my writ­ing career—especially what I should be writ­ing about. I need­ed to be writ­ing about myself, they said. My every­day life. My adven­tures. My “wis­dom.” They told me all of these things, I drove them to the place where they said they worked, and then…they dis­ap­peared.

You should read the book if you haven’t already, but I’ll share this much with you: When I went to find these young women lat­er that day, I dis­cov­ered no one else had seen them, and even­tu­al­ly came to the con­clu­sion that they weren’t young women at all but rather aliens in human female cor­po­re­al form. (By the way, when I say “alien girls,” some of you might be pic­tur­ing young women like this, but the ones I spent that morn­ing with looked more like Amer­i­can hip­pies.)

Nat­u­ral­ly, my encounter with these two alien girls made an indeli­ble impres­sion on me, and I began to write the book they’d encour­aged me to write: a book of per­son­al essays/stories about real events in my life, in the vein of three writ­ers I admired: Gar­ri­son Keil­lor, David Sedaris and E.B. White.

I Start Writing the Book

A view of the Vil­lage of Mill­brook from the top of the Trib­ute Gar­den steps.

Over the fol­low­ing year, the pieces—which I wrote almost exclu­sive­ly in pen­cil and my younger sis­ter Mandy typed up—poured out of me. I wrote the first draft of the book dur­ing the sum­mer of 2009, seat­ed in a camp chair I took every morn­ing to a near­by park, the Mill­brook Trib­ute Gar­den.

A piece about the alien girls. One about my wife and I try­ing to get rid of a bunch of Thomas Kinkade “paint­ings” that a rel­a­tive had giv­en us. Anoth­er one, enti­tled “Revenge Fan­tasies,” was a long med­i­ta­tion on revenge, famous duels in his­to­ry, and acts of revenge I’d tak­en against my ene­mies over the years; I end­ed up leav­ing it out of the final book because I felt I’d grown con­sid­er­ably dur­ing the inter­ven­ing 8 years.

The first draft of what became Per­pet­u­at­ing Trou­ble ini­tial­ly ran to 250,000 words; that’s longer than Moby Dick. This is why part of my writ­ing process includes let­ting my works “cool off” in a draw­er or a clos­et for months or years (some­thing I’ll dis­cuss in greater detail in the weeks to come). This way, when I return to the book, the gold is often imme­di­ate­ly notice­able, and the tail­ings or dregs are notice­able too.

In the sec­ond and sub­se­quent drafts of the book, I cut the dregs and refined the gold.

With every book that even­tu­al­ly reach­es pub­li­ca­tion, there’s a moment when it ceas­es to be strings of sen­tences or para­graphs, or even a loose col­lec­tion of essays or chap­ters, and it becomes a dis­crete, liv­ing, breath­ing thing. It becomes a book with its own iden­ti­ty beyond that of the per­son who wrote it.

The Book Comes to Life

For me, that moment with Per­pet­u­at­ing Trou­ble came when the idea for the title pre­sent­ed itself. Pri­or to the final title, I had been con­sid­er­ing titles includ­ing Thank You, Alien Girls!, A Por­trait of the Artist as a Mid­dle-aged Man, and even Livin’ the Dream! But none of these titles excit­ed me.

I was leaf­ing through Fitzger­ald on Writ­ing when I came upon this quote by F. Scott Fitzger­ald from his nov­el The Crack-up: “I avoid­ed writ­ers very care­ful­ly because they can per­pet­u­ate trou­ble as no one else can.”

Up to that moment, my book had been like the life­less mon­ster in Mary Shelley’s Franken­stein. That quote was the jolt of elec­tric­i­ty that gave it life. Sud­den­ly every­thing in the book—every essay, every sen­tence, every line of dialogue—was uni­fied and had a pow­er­ful sub­text. In all of the pieces, all of my mis­ad­ven­tures, I did per­pet­u­ate trou­ble; I took a mar­gin­al­ly bad or uncom­fort­able sit­u­a­tion and invari­ably per­pet­u­at­ed the trou­ble and made the whole thing worse.

When I typed “Per­pet­u­at­ing Trou­ble” on the cov­er page, I knew I had a win­ner. It might or might not become a best­seller, I thought, but I had cre­at­ed a uni­fied, fun­ny and poignant piece of art—a book that my writ­ing hero E.B. White might have approved of (although I use more adjec­tives and adverbs than he would have liked), and one that my grand­fa­ther (an admir­er of E.B. White him­self) def­i­nite­ly would have enjoyed.

Me, when I read Fitzger­ald’s quote and con­ceived of the title PERPETUATING TROUBLE.

Look­ing back on the writ­ing of the book now, while I cer­tain­ly have the alien girls to thank for encour­ag­ing me to write about myself, I think that the pri­ma­ry rea­son why the book is any good is because I wrote what I want­ed to read.

This is always my first con­sid­er­a­tion when writ­ing: “Chris…what would you like to read?” I don’t try to imag­ine some phan­tom Every­man or Every­woman read­er; hav­ing learned that I tend to be my harsh­est crit­ic, I write to please myself first, think­ing that, if I like it, oth­er read­ers will like it.

The Real Chris Orcutt

And I real­ly do like Per­pet­u­at­ing Trou­ble. It’s 100% my real voice, and it’s how I tru­ly see and inter­act with the world. Some­day I hope I get to do a read­ing from it, because I’ve learned that that’s when I can real­ly put my per­son­al­i­ty into the words.

If you enjoy the works of David Sedaris or Gar­ri­son Keil­lor, I hope you’ll con­sid­er pick­ing up Per­pet­u­at­ing Trou­ble. Kirkus Reviews declares my “arch essay col­lec­tion about the ups and downs of the writ­ing life” to be “a quick and amus­ing read” and its author, moi, “a vibrant char­ac­ter and enjoy­able writer.” The Mid­west Book Review echoed this sen­ti­ment in even pithi­er form: “An absolute­ly fas­ci­nat­ing and enter­tain­ing read from cov­er to cov­er, [Orcut­t’s] Per­pet­u­at­ing Trou­ble will have par­tic­u­lar inter­est for any­one famil­iar with (or them­selves liv­ing) the life of a writer.”

Next week I’ll take you behind the scenes with my writ­ing and share some of my process with you.

By Chris Orcutt

CHRIS ORCUTT is an American novelist and fiction writer with over 30 years' writing experience and more than a dozen books in his oeuvre. Since 2015, Chris been working exclusively on his magnum opus. Bodaciously True & Totally Awesome: The Legendary Adventures of Avery “Ace” Craig is a 9-episode novel about teens in the 1980s. It’s about ’80s teens, but for adults (in other words, it’s decidedly not YA literature), and he’s applied this epic storytelling approach to the least examined, most misunderstood, most marginalized narrative space in American literature: the lives and inner worlds of teenagers.

Comments (0)

Comments are closed.