Jacqueline Baker, "Down Burned Road"
It’s December 15. Jacqueline Baker, author of The Broken Hours, has officially given up on Google Maps.
How would you describe your story?
JACQUELINE BAKER: Like all my writing, I suppose it sits on the border between literary realism and horror. I love atmosphere. I like my monsters to stay offstage.
When did you write it, and how did the writing process compare to your other work?
JB: I wrote the first draft almost ten years ago, shortly after leaving the Robson Valley west of Jasper, where it’s set. But something was missing. It didn’t feel whole yet. It sat that way several years. Then, reading it over one day, the missing piece occurred to me: the childhood recollection of the Halloween dance. That process is not unusual for me. I’m a slow writer, a slow processor. I have to mull a thing a long time before I can get at the heart of it. In writing. In life.
What kind of research went into this story?
JB: Living and raising my daughters in the wilderness of the Robson Valley. Carrie isn’t me—of course—but some of her experiences of living, and watching others live, in such a remote, wild place are familiar to me. There was a three-legged bear…
What, to you, makes the short story a special form? What can it do that other kinds of writing can’t?
JB: I love what a short story doesn’t say, the way white space is used in visual art, photography. I love the way it can show a whole story, a whole person, a whole life, through the lens of a critical moment, and still retain some mystery. Short stories can haunt me in a way that novels often don’t.
Where should people go to learn more about you and your work?
JB: To my books, I hope.
What’s the best gift you’ve ever been given?
JB: So many! In recent years, I would say the tremendous gift of friendship, and family, and community while I’ve navigated some difficult times. I’m not sure I fully appreciated it before, how people will show up for you. And, of course, my fierce, funny, tender-hearted daughters, the eldest of whom was born 25 years ago. At Christmas.
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