If You Mean ‘Shit’, Say ‘Shit’

by Melanie Thorne

The History of Vegas
Jodi Angel
Chronicle Books. July, 2005.
178 pages. $19.95

In her fearless debut collection, The History of Vegas, Jodi Angel leads her readers into heat-scorched deserts in cars without air-conditioning, cheap motels with jailbait hookers, and filthy trailer homes with pet ferrets. Her adolescent protagonists live in dirty worlds of booze, smoke, drugs and fear. Manipulation and abuse at every turn, adults have failed these young narrators, and though inexperienced and lacking guidance, they attempt to make the right decisions in an environment designed for them to fail. Jodi skillfully portrays the immense responsibility and very real danger her characters face in simply trying to survive.

These ten stories are intense. Jodi’s concise, descriptive, and often chilling prose exposes scenes of horrible violence, misguided assistance and the last ditch efforts of the desperate. She writes about exploitive teenage sex and sexual confusion; encouraged and enforced bulimia; smoking formaldehyde and torturing dogs; and incest. You might want to look away but Jodi won’t let you. “I am going to write even if it’s uncomfortable,” she says. “Even if it’s explicit, even if it’s a subject that people don’t want to talk about.” “It’s my truth,” she says. “I get to speak my truth and I’m not going to edit it.”

I had the opportunity to sit down with Jodi at the Naked Coffee Lounge in Sacramento, a Friends-esque atmosphere complete with couches, giant mugs and tables too small for anything but two cups of coffee. Plus, I think, an appropriately named venue for the discussion of Jodi’s new book with its extreme subject matter and graphic depictions. “I try to be careful,” Jodi says. “I am dealing with things that could be perceived as shocking and I don’t ever want them to extend into that shock value thing.” In her third story, “Supplement,” seventeen-year-old Jaycee has romantic moments with a forty-year-old Basque farm hand who splits lamb’s testicles with his teeth rather than a knife during castration; his beautiful, sensual, twenty-five year old wife; and Jaycee’s own younger brother. Each encounter is artfully rendered as both sweet and disturbing, even if startling. “’Supplement’ is really a story about misdirected nurturing, and nurturing and sexuality get confused a lot,” says Jodi. “I thought it was justifiable that [those events] could happen—how easily that line of sex can be blurred.”

It’s the writing that allows Angel to avoid the trap of shock for shock’s sake. Her honesty lacks a self-pity that could make some of these stories seem melodramatic; the tone is just right. These are observational, strong voiced narrators simply sharing their stories of abandonment and hopeless futures and revealing their lives in lonely apartments. Jodi tends not to spend much time in the minds of her characters, instead trusting her readers enough to let the actions speak volumes, and they do. Excellent dialogue, vivid attention to seedy locations, and a calm resignation to the genuine every day dreadfulness of these worlds gives the writing a subtly built tension without the affected staginess of tragedy.

Another of Jodi’s strengths is the force of these stories, the insistent forward momentum. This powerful movement might be in part due to Jodi’s writing process. “I like to throw it all down in one sitting,” she says. “I don’t like to work on it.” The opening story, “Portions,” was written in one late night session. “I wrote from 11pm to 4 am one night and it was done,” Jodi says. It hasn’t been changed since. “Minor adjustments, that’s it.” Most of the other stories were done the same way. Part of why Jodi writes her stories in one sitting is, she says, “Because I’m too lazy to want to do revisions. Pam [Houston] always told me I’ve got to learn to revise, she said it’s the best part of writing, but I don’t believe that at all.” She smiles. “I really hate revising.” Another cause for the one session narrative is that Jodi writes much of her stories beforehand in her head. By the time she physically sits down to write she’s already formed the trajectory of the piece. “A lot of the time I know how it’s going to end before I start,” she says. “It doesn’t always work out that way, but pretty close.”

Jodi starts with a character or an opening paragraph and shapes much of the story from that foundation. Armed with these building blocks in her mind, when she gets to the actual page, it becomes a matter of “filling in the details.” Each event in these stories, even when unexpected, retains the organic quality of emerging from the characters and/or their circumstances, rather than reading like a conscious choice of the author’s. “They were just supposed to be there somehow,” she says of the surprising turns some of her stories take. And though she may know how the story will end before she begins to write, she’s learned to be careful not to race to that moment, or to get there “by the straight path.” “That racing to the ending thing,” Jodi says, “everyone picks up on that in workshop.”

Jodi credits workshop and the writing community at UC Davis with helping her grow and mature as a writer. “Just being a community of people doing the same thing you’re doing,” she says. “How often in life can you say ‘I’m really stuck with my main character in this situation’ and somebody can empathize with you?” Through workshop Jodi also learned how to be a better reader, and “how to see when something is working and when it’s not working,” and perhaps even more importantly, being able to hear that in her own work. “Because once you’re out of the workshop…” she lifts her hands. “Now, I can’t hand my story to twelve other people and say, ‘Can you give this a read and send me some feedback?’”

After graduating from the UC Davis MA program in 2003, Jodi submitted her thesis manuscript “The History of Vegas,” to Jay Schaefer at Chronicle Books at the suggestion of Pam Houston. “She told me that if he didn’t like it, he’d at least give me some really good suggestions for how to fix it.” But that December he called and asked Jodi if she had any more material. “I told him, ‘Of course,’ and then I wrote ‘Whistle Pig’ that night,” in one sitting, of course. Only four of the original thesis stories made it into the collection and after writing more than half of these stories alone, Jodi was nervous about sending them to an editor without any outside comments. “This book was really hard for me because I had no one to bounce these stories off of,” she says. The worry was unnecessary however; having learned to hear the successful moments in her own writing, Jodi’s collection was officially bought by Chronicle books in January of 2004.

Jodi’s advice to young writers is, “Write your truth.” She continues, “When I taught 100F (the undergraduate fiction workshop) the one thing I wanted to pound into my students’ heads was: write your truth. Don’t back away or be afraid to say something. If you mean ‘shit,’ say ‘shit.’ Don’t say poo-poo.” She smiles. “I guess I’ve just reached that on a grander scale.”

Jodi’s truth is often apparent in these ten stories. Her willingness to step into dangerous territory, her courage in writing through the uncomfortable moments shows she takes her own advice. “Sometimes it’s hard,” she says. “You put that stuff out there like that and it’s an opportunity for people to judge you for it,” and that’s probably true. But despite the explicitness and horror of some of these stories, Jodi seems relatively average. She’s friendly and mellow, and completely gracious to the nervous girl asking her questions. “I’m pretty normal,” she says and shrugs. “I have a house and a family. I have two dogs. I mow my lawn once a week,” she says and it sounds so suburban. This woman writes about skinning deer; about girls who stomp rats to death with their boots; about abusive teen boyfriends, finding babies in alleys, robbery, drugs, molestation and cancer with amazing ease and yet on a Tuesday afternoon she sits in shorts and a T-shirt next to her daughter on a couch in a coffee shop, drinking an iced Chai and talking to me. She says, “Hopefully people realize that the writer is not the story and the story is not the writer.”

Jodi Angel graduated from the UC Davis MA program in 2003, where she is currently a guest lecturer. Her first collection, The History of Vegas was released by Chronicle Books this July. The story “Portions” appears in the summer issue of Zoetrope: All-Story. In October, Jodi will be reading and appearing on a panel at the Tomales Bay Workshops. In addition, Pam Houston will be teaching The History of Vegas to both her fall graduate workshop and her undergraduate seminar.

Since graduating, Jodi says her biggest challenge has been to persist in writing frequently. “Even now that I have a book, I still have a really hard time being motivated to write,” she says. “I don’t have a deadline, I don’t have a workshop due date.” And while she misses other aspects of the MA program as well now that she’s out, “It’s really hard to stay self-motivated,” she says. “I think it’s the hardest thing.”

Melanie Thorne is a second year fiction writer in the creative writing program at UC Davis. She was born and raised in Sacramento.

Melanie can be reached at msthorne@ucdavis.edu