Skip to main contentYou really should read: The Motel Life, Northline.
Here's what I've learned from Willy Vlautin: Reno is a sad place populated by sad people who hate blacks and Mexicans and drink too much and gamble compulsively and are cheered by even the faintest glimmer of hope. And I keep reading, because Portlander Vlautin, for all his melancholy, writes with a simple, Carver-esque beauty unparalleled among a generation of overwrought fantasists. BEN WATERHOUSE. 3 pm Saturday, Nov. 8. McMenamins Stage.
What's your personal writing ritual?
I try to write in the morning and without a hangover. I like writing at Portland Meadows, our local horse track, when I can swing it.
What are your favorite themes to write about?
I've always been a fan of working class stories. My themes are pretty basic, guilt, love, violence, and alcoholism. Those I rehash and rehash and rehash.
The most beautiful word in the English language is:
Dilapidated.
What authors made you want to pick up a pen in the first place?
My heroes have always been Raymond Carver, Jim Thompson, William Kennedy, Larry Brown, John Steinbeck.
Fight Club time: If you could fight one author (or critic), who would it be and why?
Hell, I don't know, but I like Fight Club. That's a cool novel.
Dream project:
I'm a big fan of Top Shelf Comics. They're a great publisher here in Portland. I'd really like to do a graphic novel with them.
Most recent nightmare:
Reading at Flirts Lounge at the airport Holiday Inn just after Monday Night Football.
Your cure for writer's block:
I can always write its just I write a lot of bad stories.
Pessimistic question: Will you keep writing even after people stop reading?
It's a hard habit to quit so I'd keep going. I'd probably be like my dad and turn to writing porn novels.
Optimistic question: Kittens? Discuss.
I used to hate cats, then I found a kitten in my shed. Now I like them all right.
Please paste a short paragraph from a story, poem, article, blog post etc. you're currently working on below:
HOW TO QUIT DRINKING # 4
He went into AA
He joined a gym and started boxing
He left his girlfriend and got a room
He slept on the floor and quit talking
His sister asked him why he quit talking
He said when he was sober he didn't know nothing
He was 34 when he turned pro
He ran to work and he ran home
He stayed at the gym until they closed
But there were still those nights when he was all alone
He won ten fights going up and down the coast
He'd borrow his sister's car and drive himself home
Then he fought in Modesto and shattered his nose
Then he detached his retina in Fresno and they made him quit
He'd wake up in the middle of the night
His heart racing so fast he thought he was dying
And it wouldn't go away, it would never go away
He'd just go running, running down the street
And he'd keep running and running until he could hardly stand
Until he couldn't think anymore
WWeek 2015