PHIL COMER INTERVIEW by Candice Dyer

Candice Dyer

North Georgia-based journalist and iconic free-lance writer Candice Dyer's work appears in anthologies and periodicals including Georgia Trend, Atlanta Magazine and Garden and Gun. She is author of Street Singers, Soul Shakers and Rebels with a Cause, a history of music in Macon, Georgia. A popular speaker, her exploits can be followed on her blog, "Antics in Candyland".

On a recent visit to Sandtrap, Candice paused on the dove porch to brandish her sharpened quill over mimosas and fuzzy navels, the latter being Phil's. 

Peepers, dove muse

Candice: What's the meaning of life?

Phil: Good Lord! I thought this was gonna be easy.

Don’t be fooled by my reputation. 

Do I get a "do over"?

OK, you are a Southern writer in a long tradition of Southern writers. The wellspring of your creativity -- describe your Muse, please. And I don’t mean his abs.

Yes, my muse comes shirtless, generally posing as one of the Village People. He forces me to pantomime "YMCA" to the doves' amusement. Creativity comes in dreams. My subconscious works overtime. People I meet in the supermarket inspire me. I'll talk to anybody. Reading, but rarely TV. Off-the-cuff exchanges that "click."

Is that where your Sandtrap sketches come from?

Yeah, often. Sandtrap is that fictional place that never existed, but should. It taps into growing up in a rural community within a drive of urbanity. Country folk seem more rooted in common sense. As a teen whatever I needed to know about sex -- animal, vegetable or human -- I counted on country peers, not the clueless urban Einsteins.

Agreed. Country folk are closer to the Earth; basic biology does not make them blush. Forget 'Sex & the City' -- I'm waiting for 'Sex & the Country.' Manolo, meet Carhartt. So, you write about sex?

Did I say that? If so, I was quoting Gertrude Stein. She said, "Literature unconcerned with sex is inconceivable." Something like that. And here's to "show, don't tell."

Why do you write?

Three reasons. To engage the voices inside my head in conversation as opposed to chatter, to connect with the stories of those who've gone before and to give myself the illusion of triumph over life's absurdities.

Phil Comer, Home place, Sandtrap, Jawja

You've certainly honed a unique Southern "voice." What sort of things do you write?

I'm a scientific writer and editor by training. By avocation, I write all manner of stuff, fiction long and short, slice of life essays, novelty poems. Those are where that "voice" kicks in, slightly snarky, ironic. I've finished my first novel Ruby Cheeks, the initial installment of a comic Southern noir saga. Humor and the human condition are integral to my work. I find it hard not to be funny.

INTERVIEW WITH PHIL COMER by Alicia Caldwell

Award-winning, Utah-based writer Alicia Caldwell interviewed Phil Comer for the Write-Brained Network's December, 2010 Spotlight. (original here) The Write-Brained Network is a great online community of writers, should any be looking for an online home.

Alicia Caldwell

December '10 WB Spotlight Interview by Alicia Caldwell:

This month, say hello to Georgia writer Phil Comer.

Meet Phil Comer, fellow WBer, blogger, and all around fantastic writer. Phil lives in rural Georgia with dogs, cats, chickens and spousal unit. He has led writing teams for corporations, trade associations and has in excess of one million words ghosted in worldwide corporate dossiers.

Early on, he was owner/operator of The Last Resort, a venerable folk, jazz and blues venue in Athens, Ga., characterized in the press as "a local bohemian nightspot catering to the avant-garde." A popular speaker, he writes scripts and leads cemetery and historical rambles. His hobbies include international home stays, an outlet affording power naps in 30+ countries on six continents.

Phil Comer

AC: When did you first discover you loved to write?
 

PC: Writing is hard. I don’t love to write; I write because I have to. Sounds schizophrenic, but I started creative writing to engage the voices in my head, to discipline their cacophony. It’s like taking dictation; I write what they say. I use a lot of dialogue---sometimes can’t type fast enough to keep up.

The end result is gratifying. But, writing is exhausting work. Writing is re-writing. Layering. Revisiting. Constant switching, left to right brain---the creative versus the analytical.

When I was a kid, my mother had a manila pocket stuck to the wall. Every Friday I had to have a new little story or poem in it. I guess Mom invented blogging.

AC: You recently started a blog (and one of your posts was given a shout-out on the Guide to Literary Agents blog. Wow!) Can you tell us about it and, besides your crazy rants, what kinds of things we can expect to see there?

PC: I don’t censor myself. I’m sure I’ll offend. I realized recently, that’s because I’ve never had kids. Parents learn early to put on the kibosh. Consequently, I’m sometimes shocking unintentionally, but never mean-spirited. I’m not obscene.

I launched the blog on Nov. 1, 2010. The shout-out in Guide To Literary Agents came on Nov. 8. Talk about instant feedback and gratification!

Ricki [Schultz] blogged about Chuck Sambuchino’s gnome book. He’s editor of Guide to Literary Agents. He used a bunch of gnome puns in his book. I started thinking in “Gnome”---gnomenclature as he and Ricki call it---and this silly gnome rap popped out. Chuck read it, liked it, and he blogged about it. Yea!

One of the first things I blogged was my Stalker Poem ["My Darling"]; it’s something I perform at open mics. It’s meant to be fun. A number of people commented how it channels insanity. Anyhow, the blog’s had several hits from a Danish psychiatry site. Not sure the connection. When I click back on their link, it’s in Danish. Can’t read a word.

[Editor's note: Click here to see a YouTube video of Phil performing it!]

BTW, the story behind Stalker Poem is, a friend was deliberating a restraining order against her former boyfriend. I started the poem to help her see his point of view. By the time I finished, I was like, “Nah. Get the restraining order.” But, that’s where art comes from.