Playing on the title of his first novel, What I'm Going to Do, I Think, Larry Woiwode's fresh, endearing memoir chronicles the years leading up to its publication in 1969. He views his early life from the vantage point of the bitterly cold winter of 1996 in North Dakota, where he resides with his wife and children, seamlessly interweaving his memories with an often comic account of the mishap-fraught installation of a new wood-burning furnace. Woiwode's supple, burnished prose teems with love for his family and with religious faith all the more moving for being quietly and unpretentiously expressed. His early struggles as an actor, poet, and fiction writer gain depth from this mature perspective, which also ensures that mentions of the literary celebrities who cross his path (John Updike, Truman Capote, and Robert Lowell, among others) never seem like mere name-dropping. Woiwode's affectionate portrait of Robert De Niro, a friend since the actor was 19 and the author 21, gives a marvelously vivid sense of De Niro's idiosyncratic personality. Even more revelatory is the detailed account of Woiwode's relationship with legendary New Yorker editor William Maxwell, which shows a sensitive, challenging mentor helping a young writer find his voice. The writer frankly depicts hard times and bad moments, but his autobiography's fundamental emotion is joy. --Wendy Smith
Larry Woiwode was designated Poet Laureate of North Dakota by the Legislative Assembly in 1995. He served as Writer in Residence at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, 1973-74; and from 1983-88 was a tenured professor at the State University of New York, Binghamton, and director of its Creative Writing Program.
Larry Woiwode’s fiction has appeared in Antaeus, Antioch Review, Atlantic Monthly, GQ, Harpers, The New Yorker, Paris Review, Partisan Review, and many other publications; his poetry has appeared in Atlantic Monthly, Harpers, The New Yorker, Mademoiselle, Poetry North, Tar River Poetry, Transatlantic Review, Works in Progress, and other publications and venues, including broadsides and anthologies.
His novels and his memoirs are widely acclaimed and his writings have been translated into a dozen languages and earned him international recognition: he is the recipient of the William Faulkner Foundation Award, 1969; has been a Guggenheim Fellow, 1971-72; a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award and the National Book Award, 1975; chosen by the American Association of Publishers for a novel to present to the White House Library, 1976; is recipient of an Award in Literature from the National Institute and American Academy of Arts & Letters, 1980; of the John Dos Passos Prize (for a diverse body of work), 1991; and of a Lannan Literary Fellowship, 2001. He has also received North Dakota’s highest honor, the Theodore Roosevelt Roughrider Award, conferred by Governor Sinner, in 1992; and in 2011 received the Emeritus Award from the High Plains Awards Committee, for “A Body of Work as Vast as the West.” His recent publications include Words Made Fresh, and The Invention of Lefse, published in 2011 by Crossway Books. His new novel Blackburn Bay is nearly ready to be viewed by agents and publishers, and in 2010 he completed a new book of short stories
A strange book to get into--Woiwode is a midwest product of the 1960s--graduating from Illinois (Urbana), he recounts how he got into writing, both poetry, short stories for the New Yorker, and novels. He does so frequently flashing forward to his efforts--more than ably assisted by his 14 year old son--to survive a blizzard and sub-sub zero winter storm on his farm in North Dakota. Once I got into the quasi-autobiography/present tense how to deal with the blizzard ping-pong, I began to enjoy the book. I would guess the author intended the "survival" through the storm to parallel his earlier "survival" as a fledgling want to be writer in New York. Through this oddly compelling journey--where the author was friends with people we now know ranging from Robert de Niro Jr to Norman Mailer and John Updike--Woiwode drops some beautiful images and even some occasional wisdom. For example, he is very aware when writing "that half the thought isn't in words, but an inner collusion of imagery and faith in intuition, only partly related to words. So I sit and try to translate my thoughts." While not by any mean a spiritual book, Woiwode also is unashamed to discuss some of marvels of his faith in God which have sustained him. So in the middle of his grousing and cynicism, his wife--who doubtless had had enough of listening to him asks him simply to pray. Writes Woiwode: "...sure, I'll pray, and lit into a prayer with such anger a hole indeed seemed to burn in the air. Then it opened to the presence I had forgotten, and I felt the ladder of Jacob's vision, with angels ascending and descending on it, descend on me, the Spirit pouring through me with such force that prayers for my wife and children...were pressed from me as never before in fifty years, and when I was spent and looked up I saw each of my family as if for the first time, transformed...Every person I hated or could not forgive appeared... I sensed the presence of each and knew who it was and was astonished at the smallness of my hate under the power passing through me." There are many other beautiful images--well worth reading although in my case, it took me well more than 100 pages before I found I could enjoy his honesty instead of resent what seemed at some level to be either name dropping or recondite knowledge only North Dakotan farmers would need to know. So for those who know something about the 1960's-1970's, like poetry, do not fear honesty about faith and "big questions", and have some respect for North Dakotan winters, this is a great book!
Novelist Larry Woiwode's (author of "Beyond the Bedroom Wall") memoir is viewed through the extremely harsh 1996 winter in North Dakota. He portrays the New York literary circles of his youth, including his friendship with a young Robert DeNiro. The following line in Woiwode’s memoir especially resonates with me, "and if your career is your faith, then your God is as good as dead, once your work is, and so it goes." (p.255).