Friday, February 12, 2021

Welcome to Davy Litwack's Locker

 
Thanks for stopping by and hanging out.
I'm David Litwack, author and musician.

I was raised in Kansas City, which is actually two cities. One on each side of the state line. Each abutting the Great River. One in a slave state; the other in a free state. The free state took the biggest beating in the civil war. The slave state produced Jesse James. And other outlaws. I mention this because we kids were bombarded with different prejudices and history depending on what side of the river we were on at that moment. Actually, depending on which side the teachers had come from. In short, our teachers often shared their “views” to our utter confusion. But helpful in giving us a depth of understanding in the long run. Particularly as regards race relations. I found myself straddling the same issues among tribes during my years in Africa. I guess I should write about it. Oh yeah, I have. My first try has been Land of the Sun, Land without Light.)

I went to Southwest High School which, at that time, was almost an academy. Literary societies and contests were part of the culture. My parents moved us to the neighborhood for the school. I didn’t realize that until it was too late to thank them. I won some silver writing medals and was president of the literary society, Excelsior, which had some great writers. I published a little in the college literary magazine.

I was competitive but too small, weak, and slow for ball games. So I read a lot. I remember reading War & Peace at seven. Yeah, that’s seven years old. (But not in the original Russian.) I’m not sure how much I understood. But that was what I did and what made me to want to be like Tolstoy. And London. And Hemingway. And Faulkner. And so on.



I studied them in high school and college. And I ended up with a PhD in literature from Boston University. While there, I gave famous writer John Barth a copy of my latest novel to review. His response was sadly typical. Silence.

Meanwhile, most of my other scribblings spent their time in a desk drawer. Until now. I guess that could make me a (very) late bloomer.