Pamela Steele
Pamela Steele holds an MFA in Poetry from Spalding University. Her books include Paper Bird: Poems and Greasewood Creek. She has been awarded residencies and fellowships by the Djerassi Resident Artists Program in Woodside, California; the Hindman Settlement School Oak Ledge, in Knott County, Kentucky; the Jentel Artist Residency in Banner, Wyoming; and Fishtrap’s Gathering of
Writers in Joseph, Oregon. She lives on a ranch in the high desert of Eastern Oregon.
Steele's new novel is In the Fields of Fatherless Children.
My Q&A with the author:
How much work does your title do to take readers into the story?Follow Pamela Steele on Facebook, Instagram, and Threads.
I didn’t commit to a title until my gut told me I was in the last few days of writing a complete draft for submission. In thinking about a title, I remembered that an early reader had remarked on how biblical the story is, which brought my mind to biblical references I’d used in the story: Bethel and Thomas, for example. When I got to the point where I knew I needed a title, I ruminated on Solomon, the novel’s primary antagonist and a character I’d actually named for a long-dead ancestor. I picked up a Bible and scanned Song of Solomon for an idea and then found myself backtracking to Proverbs. When I happened upon Chapter 23, verse 10 and read it aloud: Do not move an ancient boundary stone or encroach on the fields of the fatherless . . . I knew I’d found a title that fit one of the novel’s larger themes of family relationships and abandonment: In the Fields of Fatherless Children.
Initially, the editors at Counterpoint thought the title fitting but possibly in need of shortening. I couldn’t see how that could be done and still convey meaning, but I put my trust in them. In the end, we decided stick with the title I’d originally used.
What's in a name?
Character’s names are everything. As I wrote both my novels, some characters in early drafts came off as two-dimensional— lackluster—until I dispensed with placeholder names and renamed them. When I land on the right name, I can begin to see them for who they are and how they will fit into the narrative. Their entire world begins to open.
In naming June, my main character who is a sixteen-year-old-girl in Appalachia, I though back to my childhood summers spent in West Virginia. Many of the girls I knew, including myself, had the simple, standard names of my late-boomer generation: Kathy, Donna, Pam. I wanted the novel’s protagonist to be resourceful, pragmatic and determined, with a one-syllable name that strongly grounded her. I landed on June, after June Carter Cash. The name June also easily lends itself to recognizable nicknames that telegraph endearment from the characters who use them, for example, Junebug,
How surprised would your teenage reader self be by your novel?
My favorite books as a teen were Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Love Story and Mountain Man, the book on which Jeremiah Johnson was based. My current novel would probably come as a great surprise to a teenaged me, first of all because I knew I loved to write but didn’t see myself as a writer. Secondly, owing to the fact that I was raised on Goofus and Gallant of the Highlights magazines that came in the mail and as a Southern Baptist with fundamentalist grandmothers, I might not have envisioned the story at all and certainly would not have written it on paper for everyone to see. My granny once ordered Once is Not Enough from the Book-of-the-Month Club. A few pages in, she tossed it into the coal stove, completely disgusted, so I’m pretty sure she would have opinions on my book. Nonetheless, I’d like to believe I’ve done her proud.
Do you find it harder to write beginnings or endings? Which do you change more?
I began writing this novel as a workshop prompt to put two people together in a room who don’t want to be there. It became the scene in which June prepares a body for burial. The scene doesn’t occur at the beginning or the end of the novel, but somewhere between. I was taught by Jane Vandenburg, my mentor, that you begin by writing an episode, and then another and another until you hitch onto a narrative.
I’m not very good at outlining. Once I have a few scenes and know the characters a bit better, I can begin to think about where to begin the book. Although I know what I need to do to wrap up a narrative, I never know how a book will end until just before it happens. I didn’t figure out the end of In the Fields of Fatherless Children until the day before I wrote the last two chapters. Before I submitted my first novel, I literally printed and placed the collection of episodes on the floor and crawled around to arrange them, then I wrote sensible transitions. It worked, but it was a much shorter novel.
It took me twelve years to write In the Fields of Fatherless Children. I stalled during the process of writing the last two-thirds of the book, which at that time, was strictly written in third-person POV. Once I began to hear the voices of Bethel and Granny—especially Granny—I shifted the opening chapter into first person and in Granny’s voice and immediately felt that chapter grow roots to ground the book. Just as finding the right character name is important, getting the POV right is job one.
Writing the ending chapter came easily and went through very minor revision. The previous chapter dealt with the bad guy and had freed me up some to write the final scene, which was fun to write. Grace’s first-person perspective, and the only time wehear her voice, occurred organically. I had such a feeling of elation as I saw the narrative coming to an end. Even I learned things about the characters I didn’t know or foresee.
Do you see much of yourself in your characters? Do they have any connection to your personality, or are they a world apart?
I’d like to think I’m resourceful like June, and I’ve certainly been called pragmatic and stubborn. I grew up with a step-father in the house, as I lost my own father when I was young, so those experiences gave me a perspective on the dynamics of June’s relationship to Isom and longing for her father. I also have a two-years younger brother that is my person and who is currently undergoing cancer treatments, which terrify me. I drew heavily on our relationship to build June’s connection to Tom.
What non-literary inspirations have influenced your writing?
I use music as a jumping-off place for a writing session—a sort of ritual to get me in the right frame of mind. I call it opening the wound, as crazy as that sounds, because pain is a way into the core of a narrative. Incidentally, I built a soundtrack for writing the novel that contains 60’s and 70’s music, as well as songs that deeply affect me. I can only listen to Dylan’s "You’re a Big Girl Now" once a year, tops.
As for images, I relied heavily on Roger May’s book Testify. Roger shot the cover photograph for the novel, and I gave him a nod by naming a fleeting character after him.
Early in the writing process, I knew I wanted one of Roger’s photos on the cover, and the editor agreed with my request—not a common occurrence in publishing. While there are many photographers that capture the landscape of Appalachia, geography becomes character in Roger’s lens.
The Talmud says that a lion is made of all the lambs he has eaten. With all my soul, I believe that truth extends beyond metaphorical lambs to art. I can see the influence of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road in the latter half of the novel, just as I can sense echoes of the Boxcar Children, a book my granny read to me as a child. Resourceful characters abound in both. My novel contains many echoes of art I’ve consumed, some I didn’t realize were there until the final revision process.
When the original True Grit was released in 1969, I saw it with my brother, then returned to the theater in Springfield, Tennessee several times after to watch it again. I loved the story and the characters, particularly the memorable dialog. You won’t be surprised to find an extended reference to the movie in my novel.
My Book, The Movie: In The Fields of Fatherless Children.
--Marshal Zeringue

