As founding editor of Creative Nonfiction and architect of the genre, Lee Gutkind played a crucial role in establishing literary, narrative nonfiction in the marketplace and in the academy. A longstanding advocate of New Journalism, he has reported on a wide range of issues--robots and artificial intelligence, mental illness, organ transplants, veterinarians and animals, baseball, motorcycle enthusiasts--and explored them all with his unique voice and approach. In My Last Eight Thousand Days , Gutkind turns his notepad and tape recorder inward, using his skills as an immersion journalist to perform a deep dive on himself. Here, he offers a memoir of his life as a journalist, editor, husband, father, and Pittsburgh native, not only recounting his many triumphs, but also exposing his missteps and challenges. The overarching concern that frames these brave, often confessional stories, is his obsession and fascination with how aging provoked anxieties and unearthed long-rooted tensions, and how he came to accept, even enjoy, his mental and physical decline. Gutkind documents the realities of aging with the characteristically blunt, melancholic wit and authenticity that drive the quiet force of all his work.
Lee Gutkind has been recognized by Vanity Fair as “the godfather behind creative nonfiction.” A prolific writer, he has authored and edited over twenty-five books, and is the founder and editor of Creative Nonfiction, the first and largest literary magazine to publish only narrative nonfiction. Gutkind has received grants, honors, and awards from numerous organizations including the National Endowment for the Arts and the National Science Foundation. A man of many talents, Gutkind has been a motorcyclist, medical insider, sports expert, sailor, and college professor. He is currently distinguished writer in residence in the Consortium for Science, Policy, and Outcomes at Arizona State University and a professor in the Hugh Downs School of Human Communication.
I had the privilege of hearing Lee Gutkind give an address to our Creative Nonfiction conference a few years ago at Point Park University in Pittsburgh. The author is an excellent communicator. I could listen to him tell stories for hours because of his clever delivery and attention to detail. As a writer and a memoirist, I’ve learned so much from his books, and this is his first memoir. I found myself sad about the number of obstacles he has had to overcome, both as a young person and as a senior citizen. The author repeatedly admits to the angst and stress his pessimistic outlook manifests. His inability to accept the aging process surprised me, and I had trouble relating since I’m a glass-half-full kind of person. Toward the end, there is a catharsis which was satisfying. And I can think of many people to whom I will recommend this book.
Noted nonfiction writer Gutkind -- known for looks at everything from MLB umpires to the world of transplant surgery and robotics -- explores the psychology of aging by turning his attention not on the outer world, but his own story. This is a memoir of sorts, with stories from childhood through Gutkind's time in the Coast Guard, his discovery of immersion-style research and writing as a vocation on down to his personal relationships; the connection to the theme of aging is sometimes murky, except insofar as the author is trying to work out how he got to be where he was at age 70, which was pretty unhappy with being age 70. Plenty of good storytelling, though the real payoff comes in the final third or so of the book, when Gutkind tells how in his eighth decade he figured out how to get out of his nostalgia-fueled rut and live more fully.
When the “Godfather of Creative Nonfiction” writes a memoir, you expect it to be outstanding. It is. It’s also a little disheartening to learn that your literary hero is as human as you are as he faces turning 70 and all the implications of growing older. The book is a mix of memoir, meditation, and the stories behind some of the books Gutkind has written. He tells some darned good tales here. Only a few years behind him in age, I could identify with many of his concerns and that fear that people will discount you simply because of how old you are. What does the title mean? You have to read the last chapter to find out.