If the relationship of father to
son could really be reduced to biology, the whole earth would blaze
with the glory of fathers and sons.
--James Baldwin
Benji is the
narrator for Into This River I Drown.
You’re not going
to like him very much, at least at first.
Strange thing for
an author to say about their own creation, right? Yeah, I am aware of that. But I am also aware what happens in the book,
where it ends up, the secrets it has waiting for you. The twists.
The turns. The moments where
you’ll want to pull your hair out. The
moments where you’ll think I can’t
believe TJ just did that! The
tears. The heartbreak. One specific
moment I am pretty sure will have people calling for my tar and feathering. And ultimately, a sunrise.
But before all
that happens, you’ll need to know Benji.
Benji, Benji,
Benji. What can I tell you about him?
As most of you
know, I’ve kept the plot of this book under wraps, going so far as to threaten
any and all who’ve read it so far with bodily harm lest they attempt to release
any details. I have not provided any
excerpts, nor have I really given the names of the characters involved aside
from the leads. I think I mentioned the
character of Nina at one point, long ago, in one of my ramblings, only because
she is such an integral part of the book.
She is Benji’s aunt. She has Down
Syndrome. She is often the voice of
reason in all the dark. And she is my
favorite character out of the whole book (though the character of Abe runs a
close second; he’s an elderly dude who takes no shit from anyone).
Why all the
secrecy?
I could tell you
that it’s because of those twists and turns I mentioned before. That would be a good reason. This book shot off in directions even I
didn’t see coming, and I think there will be plenty of jaws dropped.
I could tell you
that it’s because I like to tease. That
is certainly true.
I could tell you
it’s because I’ve never attempted a novel such as this and I want everyone to
experience it equally for the first time at the same time. That is true, yes, but it’s not the real
reason.
The real reason is
because this book is an ode to my father.
But Tj! you ask. What
does that have to do with Benji and secrets?
Plenty.
Back in May 2012,
I wrote a longish post about my father who had died when was younger. You can read the post here if you haven’t
already by clicking http://tjklunebooks.blogspot.com/2012/05/thoughts-on-grief-and-drowing-in-river.html Fair warning, it is a tad
maudlin, but that is where I was at when writing this book.
To say Into This
River I Drown tore me into tiny little pieces would be something of an
understatement. I wrote obsessively on
this, to the point where I’d only be getting an hour or two of sleep a night,
going to work fifty hours a week, and then writing again until the wee hours of
the morning. It was cathartic, I guess,
at least as the end approached. The process leading up to the end felt like I
was ripping open old wounds for no reason at all but just to do them. And I learned something about grief, which
River is centered around. Naturally,
after substantial loss like that of a parent or loved one, grief will follow.
It’s meant to. It’s how we as humans
react. Without grief, we would just be
cold shells.
Grief is
necessary.
Grief is predictable.
Grief is expected.
But, if left to
fester too long, grief can become something else entirely.
It can be selfish.
It can be
consuming.
It can become
obsessive.
And, above all
else, it can cause you to drown.
And this is why
some may not like Benji. You might even
hate him, for a time. You see, he’s let
himself wallow in grief. He’s become
selfish and consumed and obsessed. He’s
dark and mournful. He’s drowning
metaphorically, much like his father did physically. Whether or not you can relate to Benji, in my
opinion, is largely based upon if you have ever known the obsessiveness of
grief. If you’ve let it get to the
tipping point where it’s all you know.
If you’ve been there, you know there’s a moment where a very clear
choice will come to you that you can either stop drowning, or you can let the
water close over your head. If you’ve
never been there, I am sure, at the very least, you can still imagine what it
is like.
Benji is at this
tipping point the moment the novel opens.
It’s been five years since Big Eddie died, and he’s at this tipping
point. He’s obsessed with the secrets of
his father, the death that was called an accident, the little town he lives in
that knows more that it shows on its pretty cobbled streets. I grew up in a small town. I know how secrets work in those little
forgotten places.
But know that not
all is dark: this is a love story after all.
But there are more kinds of love then one boy for another, though it is
there between Benji and the mysterious Cal.
This is also about the love one has for friends. Family.
The Trio, Benji’s aunts. His
mother. His friend Abe, who was Big
Eddie’s best friend.
Above all else
though, this book is about one man’s love for his father. That is something I know very dearly, even
though my father is gone. This book was
my way of telling my father how much I miss him, how much has happened in my
world since he’s been gone. Mixed into
the narrative of River are a few real life memories that I have of my dad, the
ones that I can remember most dearly.
Other memories are ones that I would like to think I could have had had
my father not died when his pickup crashed into the back of an abandoned
tractor trailer in the middle of the woods.
This book is for
my father, because above all else, I am my father’s son.
Is there humor,
though? Of course. I can’t write a full book without
interjecting that side of me as well.
Those moments help to chase away the shadows that come with obsessive
grief. 400 pages of nothing but moping
would probably drive even the most hardcore fan insane. You’ll never look at Lucky Charms the same
way, to be sure.
There is hope,
too. How can there not be? Benji may be at his tipping point, and the waters
may be closing over his head, but there’s still a chance. A chance that he could be pulled away from
the river. That, above all else, is
wanted I to wanted to write about: hope.
We are nothing without it. We can
be nothing unless it is there. Unless
there is that chance.
This is also a
complete story with a beginning, middle, and definitive ending. There will not be a sequel to this book. But,
there could be a chance for a…nah. I
won’t finish that. You’ll just have to
find out for yourself.
Out of everything
I’ve written, I am most proud of this story.
This is my definitive book on family, a subject I’ve seemed to have
carved a bit of a niche for myself in this genre. This is a way for you to meet my dad, as I
remember him, and as I would have hoped things could have been like. It’ll be a long road, a tough road, but in
the end, I hope you’ll think it’s worth it, because I promise you the sun will rise.
I’ll end this with
the dedication that is at the beginning of the Into This River I Drown. It summarizes everything I could ever hope to
say about this story. I’ll see you all
on the other side with a post-release blog that will include a short story, one
that I believe people are going to be clamoring for by the time they finish
River. Remember: things aren’t always
what they seem and the rabbit hole goes much further than you could ever have
imagined.
Love,
TJ
Into This River I Drown Dedication:
For my father,
John Edward Irwin
May 27, 1955—June 27, 1987
For all the things I can remember.
For all the things I have forgotten.
For all the things I never got the chance to say.
For all the things I'll say when I see you again.
Every word that follows is for you.
