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I’m writing from Forrest City, Arkansas.
I’m at the Civic Center, preparing to give a talk about my writing career. There are card tables, finger foods, and fold out chairs. The setup is familiar. What makes this talk different, however, is the people.
Tonight’s audience is composed mostly of family and friends. Although I was raised in Russellville, I was born in Forrest City. My family made the move west when I was four. When I was in fifth grade, I wrote an essay for Mrs. Dane’s English I called, “Born in the Delta; Raised in the Valley,” a title that would go on to define my writing career.
After local lawyer Brad Beavers introduces me, I open my talk by mentioning that fifth-grade essay. I try to explain the differences between the Arkansas River Valley and the Arkansas Delta regions: rolling hills or flat farmland, creeks or sloughs.
The cultures are different, too. Dry counties or wet counties. Bluegrass or the blues. I once heard someone define the South as “anywhere kudzu grows.” That snaky climbing vine covers durn near everything in the Delta, yet it’s nowhere to be found in the River Valley.
Any time we went back to Forrest City, I’d notice more of these variances. It was through this lens that I came to know Arkansas, the setting for my life and every novel I’ve ever written.
My connection to Forrest City isn’t just surface level, though. Not only was that small, Delta town the magnifying glass through which I viewed my world, it was also home to some of the people I hold most dear, many of whom are in attendance tonight at the Civic Center.
The last time most of these folks saw me, I was a couple feet shorter and sporting a blond bowl cut. Staring out at that crowd felt like flipping through a photo album. I knew almost every face in the crowd, but I couldn’t recall many names. Yet there I stood, trying to bridge the gap between then and now with my words.
Which, in the end, is what’s asked of a writer. It’s my job, my responsibility, to whittle away at the extraneous details until only the truth remains. And here’s what I know about Forrest City, what was revealed to me that night at the Civic Center: the adage that “you can’t go home again” is wrong.
Although I was raised in the River Valley, I was born in the Delta, and no matter how far I venture from that place, those people, I’ll always consider Forrest City my second home.
(A heartfelt thanks to Robin Jayroe and Arlisa Harris for putting the event together)
| Books authored by Eli Cranor |
Broiler
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The troubles of two desperate families—one white, one Mexican American—converge rest in the ruthless underworld of an Arkansas chicken processing plant in this new thriller from the award-winning author of DON’T KNOW TOUGH.
Gabriela Menchaca and Edwin Saucedo are hardworking, undocumented employees at the Detmer Foods chicken plant in Springdale, Arkansas, just a stone’s throw away from the trailer park where they’ve lived together for seven years. While dealing with personal tragedies of their own, the young couple endures the brutal, dehumanizing conditions at the plant in exchange for barebones pay.
When the plant manager, Luke Jackson, fires Edwin to set an example for the rest of the workers—and to show the higher-ups that he’s ready for a major promotion—Edwin is determined to get revenge on Luke and his wife, Mimi, a new mother who stays at home with her six-month-old son. Edwin’s impulsive action sets in motion a devastating chain of events that illuminates the deeply entrenched power dynamics between those who revel at the top and those who toil at the bottom.
From the nationally bestselling and Edgar Award–winning author of Don’t Know Tough and Ozark Dogs comes another edge-of-your-seat noir thriller that exposes the dark, bloody heart of life on the margins in the American South and the bleak underside of a bygone American Dream. |
Don't Know Tough
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In Denton, Arkansas, the fate of the high school football team rests on the shoulders of Billy Lowe, a volatile but talented running back. Billy comes from an extremely troubled home: a trailer park where he is terrorized by his mother’s abusive boyfriend. Billy takes out his anger on the field, but when his savagery crosses a line, he faces suspension.
Without Billy Lowe, the Denton Pirates can kiss their playoff bid goodbye. But the head coach, Trent Powers, who just moved from California with his wife and two children for this job, has more than just his paycheck riding on Billy’s bad behavior. As a born-again Christian, Trent feels a divine calling to save Billy—save him from his circumstances, and save his soul.
Then Billy’s abuser is found murdered in the Lowe family trailer, and all evidence points toward Billy. Now nothing can stop an explosive chain of violence that could tear the whole town apart on the eve of the playoffs. |
Ozark Dogs
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In this Southern thriller, two families grapple with the aftermath of a murder in their small Arkansas town.
After his son is convicted of capital murder, Vietnam War veteran Jeremiah Fitzjurls takes over the care of his granddaughter, Joanna, raising her with as much warmth as can be found in an Ozark junkyard outfitted to be an armory. He teaches her how to shoot and fight, but there is not enough training in the world to protect her when the dreaded Ledfords, notorious meth dealers and fanatical white supremacists, come to collect on Joanna as payment for a long-overdue blood debt.
Headed by rancorous patriarch Bunn and smooth-talking, erudite Evail, the Ledfords have never forgotten what the Fitzjurls family did to them, and they will not be satisfied until they have taken an eye for an eye. As they seek revenge, and as Jeremiah desperately searches for his granddaughter, their narratives collide in this immersive story about family and how far some will go to honor, defend—or in some cases, destroy it. |
| Previous columns: |
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• Writing from “Jazz Beach"
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• Writing from my back deck
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• Writing from my office with two darts clenched in my left hand
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• Writing from the airport
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• Writing from my wife's Honda Pilot
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