Down In The Roots:
A Review of Scott Blackburn's It Dies With You
(Followed by an interview with the author)
Review and Interview by Justin Lee
Small town fiction has always, and honestly, probably will always explore the weight of a family name. The depiction of that weight has changed throughout the years, but it's always been there. The low expectations a town can have for you all because of how your daddy, or his daddy acted can shape a life. The ways of the old encroach on the days of the new and try to find a way to cling on. Those old ways are ingrained early on. Most of the time: by family.
Scott Blackburn explores these strenuous connections in It Dies With You from a new, but ever gritty angle. The story is centered around Hudson Miller; ex-boxer, current bouncer, as he navigates the emotional aftermath of his father's murder in his small hometown of Flint Creek. While there, he discovers things are not as they seem. His father, Leland, left Hudson the family business, a salvage yard in his will. The police are slow to solve Leland's murder and soon after another body shows up it becomes clear Hudson cannot stand idly by. It's up to him, teenage firecracker Lucy, and Leland's former employee Charlie Shoaf to solve just what is going on in Flint Creek. The murder-mystery element is serviced well with the story, but to be honest, it's not what the book is truly here to talk about or explore.
It Dies With You looks at the ties that bind and how tentative those can be. Hudson was not all that close with his father and that void is shown not only from the obvious absence of Leland, but from how little Hudson knows about him and his current life. His connections to numerous, seemingly upper class townsfolk and the institutions they represent paint a picture of a man that was plugged into the political scene of this small town. A scene that has always functioned one way and benefited certain people, while coming down harder on others. The outsiders. The ones who don't go to church to gossip and don't look down on others. Hudson is labeled an outsider, but not at first. At first, he's Leland's boy and is greeted as such with all the old stories about his dad; but honestly, that's not how their relationship was. Leland was Hudson's father, but there was no real bond there. Just old wounds.
Blackburn tells the story of this town and all I can imagine is the small, southern town I grew up in and all the old ways things are done. The ways things have always been and how, the ones who don't fit, are urged to either conform or get out. The authenticity drips off the page.
Scott Blackburn is not interested in telling the same ol' stories about southern culture we've read time and time again. There's no labored descriptions of the ways the sun hits the hills. Just straightforward, gritty storytelling written in a way that respects what came before, but is beholden to no set course. If most southern literature talks about the weight of the family tree; Blackburn is here to pull up the roots and show us those old ways aren't gonna cut it anymore.
JL: Would you mind giving an introduction to the people who may be unfamiliar with you and your work?
SB: I’m a 40-year-old, happily married father of two that lives in High Point, North Carolina that supports his writing habit by teaching English at the high school and community college level. I’ve spent a great deal of my life training in various martial arts like ju-jitsu, boxing, and muay thai.
JL: Who are some of your biggest influences?
SB: Just to keep the list short and sweet: Michael Farris Smith, Wiley Cash, and Joe Lansdale.
JL: In It Dies With You, your writing is very spare. No long paragraphs describing how the sun falls on the mountains. No wasted words. Just muscular prose that really packs a punch without losing any layers. Is that a style that you aimed to have or was it a happy accident?
SB: Most of the stuff I’ve read the last several years has been pretty spare. As much as I appreciate the genius of folks like Cormac McCarthy and William Gay, I really struggle to finish their books due to how my brain is wired. My attention span is short, so short paragraphs, short chapters, and spare sentences are my go-to. In a nutshell, I try to write the things I’m most likely to read. Five to ten page chapters are the sweet spot for me.
JL: There are moments throughout your book where the contrast between Hud and his father could not be more stark. But, unless I'm projecting, there are moments that I see the father influencing the son. Are there echoes of Leland in Hud?
SB: The way I imagined Leland was somebody who didn’t put up with anybody’s bullshit, and also someone who didn’t dole out trust to any-old-body. I think Hudson definitely has some of that. The difference is that Hudson doesn’t keep his circle of influence to people exactly like himself, which Leland certainly did.
JL: I think writers like Mark Westmoreland, Jake Hinkson, Eli Cranor, and, well, you, are tackling 'Grit-Lit' from some new angles. Less bar room brawls and more dark nights (and days) of the soul. Y'all are very comfortable leaning into our world today. The inclusion of cellphones and other technologies are not excluded the stories you tell. What changes would you like to see from the genre in the future?
SB: I think the important thing with contemporary literature is reflecting the contemporary world accurately. It’s fun, and even comfortable, to lean into familiar old tropes, and to write like past Southern lit greats, but it can also rob your writing of authenticity. I did my best to paint the fictional town of Flint Creek as a modern town that still has some of the ugly claws of the past latching onto it. There are both good and bad influences from past generations, but there’s also a heavy social media influence of the younger generation. That, to me, keeps things accurate to the real world. I say all that to say this: If the future involves everyone in the South driving electric trucks and drinking tea that isn’t as sweet as pancake syrup, then literature should reflect that.
JL: You've mentioned how Joe Lansdale's Cold In July was a major influence on your novel in other interviews. What about that novel hit you so hard?
SB: On the surface, it’s a book about an everyday man being thrust into a really bad situation that he must learn to navigate on the fly. Of course many novels have a similar concept, but I think Lansdale pulled it off better than others. The book is serious at times and hilarious at others, and it has unforgettable, quirky characters. I feel like Cold in July (and Hap and Leonard) gave me permission to be funny as well as serious on the page.
JL: What writers have you been reading lately that have really blown your hair back?
You mentioned some young writers like Mark Westmoreland and Eli Cranor. I’m a big fan of both of those guys. I’m not sure many contemporary writers are writing place as well as those two. I’m also the self-appointed president of the Tiffany Quay Tyson Fan Club. Her novel, The Past is Never, is a superb nod to old school, Southern Gothic fiction. It’s downright intimidating how good she is. Some forthcoming novels I’ve read that really wowed me are Something Bad Wrong by Eryk Pruitt and Moonshine Messiah by Russell Johnson. If we’re talking desert island books, give me The Devil all the Time (Donald Ray Pollock) and She Rides Shotgun (Jordan Harper) all day long.
JL: What's next for Scott Blackburn?
SB: I’m 100% committed to finishing my current manuscript, The Less You Know, which is about a former high school teacher that accidentally gets tied up in some shady business dealings when he’s trying to raise money for his wife’s fertility procedures. Guys don’t typically write about things like miscarriage and fertility, especially in crime fiction. It’s time I changed that.
A Review of Scott Blackburn's It Dies With You
(Followed by an interview with the author)
Review and Interview by Justin Lee
Small town fiction has always, and honestly, probably will always explore the weight of a family name. The depiction of that weight has changed throughout the years, but it's always been there. The low expectations a town can have for you all because of how your daddy, or his daddy acted can shape a life. The ways of the old encroach on the days of the new and try to find a way to cling on. Those old ways are ingrained early on. Most of the time: by family.
Scott Blackburn explores these strenuous connections in It Dies With You from a new, but ever gritty angle. The story is centered around Hudson Miller; ex-boxer, current bouncer, as he navigates the emotional aftermath of his father's murder in his small hometown of Flint Creek. While there, he discovers things are not as they seem. His father, Leland, left Hudson the family business, a salvage yard in his will. The police are slow to solve Leland's murder and soon after another body shows up it becomes clear Hudson cannot stand idly by. It's up to him, teenage firecracker Lucy, and Leland's former employee Charlie Shoaf to solve just what is going on in Flint Creek. The murder-mystery element is serviced well with the story, but to be honest, it's not what the book is truly here to talk about or explore.
It Dies With You looks at the ties that bind and how tentative those can be. Hudson was not all that close with his father and that void is shown not only from the obvious absence of Leland, but from how little Hudson knows about him and his current life. His connections to numerous, seemingly upper class townsfolk and the institutions they represent paint a picture of a man that was plugged into the political scene of this small town. A scene that has always functioned one way and benefited certain people, while coming down harder on others. The outsiders. The ones who don't go to church to gossip and don't look down on others. Hudson is labeled an outsider, but not at first. At first, he's Leland's boy and is greeted as such with all the old stories about his dad; but honestly, that's not how their relationship was. Leland was Hudson's father, but there was no real bond there. Just old wounds.
Blackburn tells the story of this town and all I can imagine is the small, southern town I grew up in and all the old ways things are done. The ways things have always been and how, the ones who don't fit, are urged to either conform or get out. The authenticity drips off the page.
Scott Blackburn is not interested in telling the same ol' stories about southern culture we've read time and time again. There's no labored descriptions of the ways the sun hits the hills. Just straightforward, gritty storytelling written in a way that respects what came before, but is beholden to no set course. If most southern literature talks about the weight of the family tree; Blackburn is here to pull up the roots and show us those old ways aren't gonna cut it anymore.
JL: Would you mind giving an introduction to the people who may be unfamiliar with you and your work?
SB: I’m a 40-year-old, happily married father of two that lives in High Point, North Carolina that supports his writing habit by teaching English at the high school and community college level. I’ve spent a great deal of my life training in various martial arts like ju-jitsu, boxing, and muay thai.
JL: Who are some of your biggest influences?
SB: Just to keep the list short and sweet: Michael Farris Smith, Wiley Cash, and Joe Lansdale.
JL: In It Dies With You, your writing is very spare. No long paragraphs describing how the sun falls on the mountains. No wasted words. Just muscular prose that really packs a punch without losing any layers. Is that a style that you aimed to have or was it a happy accident?
SB: Most of the stuff I’ve read the last several years has been pretty spare. As much as I appreciate the genius of folks like Cormac McCarthy and William Gay, I really struggle to finish their books due to how my brain is wired. My attention span is short, so short paragraphs, short chapters, and spare sentences are my go-to. In a nutshell, I try to write the things I’m most likely to read. Five to ten page chapters are the sweet spot for me.
JL: There are moments throughout your book where the contrast between Hud and his father could not be more stark. But, unless I'm projecting, there are moments that I see the father influencing the son. Are there echoes of Leland in Hud?
SB: The way I imagined Leland was somebody who didn’t put up with anybody’s bullshit, and also someone who didn’t dole out trust to any-old-body. I think Hudson definitely has some of that. The difference is that Hudson doesn’t keep his circle of influence to people exactly like himself, which Leland certainly did.
JL: I think writers like Mark Westmoreland, Jake Hinkson, Eli Cranor, and, well, you, are tackling 'Grit-Lit' from some new angles. Less bar room brawls and more dark nights (and days) of the soul. Y'all are very comfortable leaning into our world today. The inclusion of cellphones and other technologies are not excluded the stories you tell. What changes would you like to see from the genre in the future?
SB: I think the important thing with contemporary literature is reflecting the contemporary world accurately. It’s fun, and even comfortable, to lean into familiar old tropes, and to write like past Southern lit greats, but it can also rob your writing of authenticity. I did my best to paint the fictional town of Flint Creek as a modern town that still has some of the ugly claws of the past latching onto it. There are both good and bad influences from past generations, but there’s also a heavy social media influence of the younger generation. That, to me, keeps things accurate to the real world. I say all that to say this: If the future involves everyone in the South driving electric trucks and drinking tea that isn’t as sweet as pancake syrup, then literature should reflect that.
JL: You've mentioned how Joe Lansdale's Cold In July was a major influence on your novel in other interviews. What about that novel hit you so hard?
SB: On the surface, it’s a book about an everyday man being thrust into a really bad situation that he must learn to navigate on the fly. Of course many novels have a similar concept, but I think Lansdale pulled it off better than others. The book is serious at times and hilarious at others, and it has unforgettable, quirky characters. I feel like Cold in July (and Hap and Leonard) gave me permission to be funny as well as serious on the page.
JL: What writers have you been reading lately that have really blown your hair back?
You mentioned some young writers like Mark Westmoreland and Eli Cranor. I’m a big fan of both of those guys. I’m not sure many contemporary writers are writing place as well as those two. I’m also the self-appointed president of the Tiffany Quay Tyson Fan Club. Her novel, The Past is Never, is a superb nod to old school, Southern Gothic fiction. It’s downright intimidating how good she is. Some forthcoming novels I’ve read that really wowed me are Something Bad Wrong by Eryk Pruitt and Moonshine Messiah by Russell Johnson. If we’re talking desert island books, give me The Devil all the Time (Donald Ray Pollock) and She Rides Shotgun (Jordan Harper) all day long.
JL: What's next for Scott Blackburn?
SB: I’m 100% committed to finishing my current manuscript, The Less You Know, which is about a former high school teacher that accidentally gets tied up in some shady business dealings when he’s trying to raise money for his wife’s fertility procedures. Guys don’t typically write about things like miscarriage and fertility, especially in crime fiction. It’s time I changed that.