Lynn C. Miller

Author

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Spotlight on Lynn C. Miller

Interview by Joan Schweighardt • Five Directions Press • December 31, 2019

Lynn C. Miller is a writer, a playwright, a performer, an instructor, the cofounder of a magazine, and so much more. Her life in the performing and literary arts shines a bright light not only on her own creativity but also on the creativity of the several women whose stories she has written and/or converted into stage adaptions. Hers is the kind of curious and empathetic mind that makes such feats possible—and such a pleasure for readers and theatre audiences.

What is your new novel about and when will it launch?

The new novel, The Unmasking, interweaves mystery, women’s history, and academic satire. Its main characters also appeared in two of my other novels, The Fool’s Journey and Death of a Department Chair. In this one, the characters journey to Silver City, NM to participate in performances of famous women from history: Gertrude Stein, Edith Wharton (here those two appear again getting back to your second question!), Virginia Woolf, Mabel Dodge Luhan, and Victoria Woodhull. Hanging over them is the suspicious death of their college dean, an event they conclude was a murder. Complications ensue when the dean’s widow and her lover attend the festival. The book is a lively twist on the locked-room mystery as the characters are thrown together in the close confines of the lodge. The figures in the past have conflicts that shadow the characters in the present.

[Read more…] about Spotlight on Lynn C. Miller

Lynn’s adaptation of a Gertrude Stein story

Lynn’s adaptation of Gertrude Stein’s “Miss Furr & Miss Skeene” will be part of the International Dublin Gay Theatre Festival in Ireland May 13 – 18, 2019. This word portrait is thought to be the first use of “gay” to mean homosexual in print (1922 in Vanity Fair).

Reading/signing for ABQ inPrint & bosque 8

Reading/signing for ABQ inPrint and bosque 8 in Albuquerque at Organic Books, our newest independent used bookstore. Local author Steve Brewer is hosting the reading at 3 pm, Sunday March 17, 2019. Organic books is in the heart of Nob Hill at 111 Carlisle SE, near the Herb Store.

Purple Camaro

A Short Story Excerpt

I first met Jack when I was sixteen and working as a carhop. He drove in one day in a purple Camaro. What a car! All curves and yummy lines. That purple car made me swoon.

“You like my wheels,” he said when I came to take his order.

“Yup.”

“What about me?”

“The truth?” I chewed on my pencil. “I didn’t even see you. Just the car. My favorite color. My favorite size.”

“Your favorite flavor too?” He was flirty as hell.

“Funny. What do you want to eat?”

His eyebrows shot up. I just knew he was going to keep going with the trite comments: a little of what you’re having or just you honey or how about a little sugar? I clenched the order pad. I was in a mood to let him have it.

“Just a milkshake.” He thought a minute. “Vanilla.”

“Good choice.” I spun around to head back to the kitchen. I stole a look back at that car. “Camaro,” I said aloud. Dreamy.

After that, he’d come by about once a week. Sure, he asked me out. But the car was a stumbling block. It was hard to even see what his face was like when he was in it—the purple swooped me up every time. I only saw myself driving that car.

The next year I headed off to college. I forgot about Jack but sure didn’t lose the car. I asked my dad for one that first fall. “When you get a job, you can have one,” he said, handing me the keys to the Impala he’d bought for me second hand. It was wide-bodied and blue, not my type at all.

Five years later, I was behind the counter of the pharmacy in Crookston when a tall lanky guy with a ponytail came up to the till. “Janice. Janice Straight?”

“Yes,” I was cautious. Seeing a woman who worked with drugs acted like an aphrodisiac to some men.

“Jack. Jack Bergstrom. Purple Camaro. We went to high school together.”

“Not exactly. You were two years older.” I squinted and saw that color, brighter than eggplant. “Mr. Camaro!”

“Yeah.” He sounded a little down.

“Still have it?” I thought I might offer him a good price for it.

“Nuh-uh. Totaled it in college. Icy road, not my fault.”

I rang him up and handed him the bag. A month’s supply of Valium. He looked hopeful as I handed him his change. Thing was, if you don’t stand out as much as your car, what kind of a man does that make you?