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• Article on Ms. Parks
• Ms. Parks talks to Tavis on NPR
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Tavis: When Suzan-Lori Parks was in high school, her teacher told her--get this--that she'd never become a writer. Remember that next time somebody tells you there's something you cannot do. The now-successful playwright, screenwriter, and novelist won the Pulitzer Prize for drama in 2002 for 'Topdog/Underdog.' Her most recent book is called 'Getting Mother's Body.' The book has been rereleased now and is out in paperback. Suzan-Lori, nice to see you.

Suzan-Lori Parks: Thank you so much for having me. I have been great. I have been great.

Tavis: I'm always fascinated--As many times as we talk, I always start with that story because of all the things you've accomplished juxtaposed against that story, it makes your success more remarkable. So, for those who've not heard the Suzan-Lori Parks story about this teacher--Do you know where this teacher is now? Is the teacher still alive? Do you know where the teacher is? Have you ever talked to the teacher? Have you said, "Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah"?

Parks: No, no. That answer may incriminate me. I'm not going to answer that question.

Tavis: OK. OK, so, I don't wanna incriminate you, but tell me the story about what happened when this teacher told you this.

Parks: At the time, she was an older woman, so my guess is that now she's passed on, um, perhaps not to another school system, though, if you know what I mean.

Tavis: I understand. Ha ha.

Parks: Yeah. Yeah. So, uh--So, uh, I was in high school, and I loved English. You know, reading and all that kind of stuff, right? Since I was--

Tavis: Were you good at spelling?

Parks: You know this story! No! No, I was really lousy at spelling. I was awful at spelling. Because I was--People told me that to spell, you had to--"Sound it out," they would say.

Tavis: A phonetic thing.

Parks: Yeah. That doesn't apply to the English language. But I was good at taking directions, so I would sound words out, and I would spell wrong. I was a horrible speller. When I told her that I wanted to be a writer and study English in college, she looked at my grade book and, you know, I--very poor grades at spelling. And she said, "You know, I don't think you should be a writer, you know"? And I said, "Yes, ma'am." Because, again, I was, you know--I was brought up to listen to and respect my elders. And so I went off to college and majored in science. Yeah! Whoo! Ha ha ha! No, I was good in science. I was really good in physics, and my dream was to be the first black woman in space, uh, but I got there another way.

Tavis: Made your own. Got you.

Parks: Exactly. But I got there another way, like a funkadelic way.

Tavis: I ain't mad at you. Don't hate on Parliament Funkadelic, now.

Parks: Ha ha ha. But, uh, so, she told me not to be a writer, and I took her advice until I realized that I loved writing and that I was gonna be a writer regardless.

Tavis: When did you realize that? After you started the science, obviously, but...

Parks: Yeah. I was in the chemistry lab, pouring, you know...

Tavis: Ha ha ha! Kind of realized, "This ain't for me." Yeah.

Parks: Ha ha! No, you know, it wasn't me. And literature, you know, I just so loved literature that it called me back to it and so...

Tavis: What do you--Edwidge Danticat was in that seat not long ago--another brilliant writer--

Parks: Yay! Oh, Edwidge! Oh, great, great.

Tavis: She's awfully talented. And I asked her the same question, and I wanna pose the same question to you now. What about the writing thing draws you? It wasn't science. It wasn't something else that it might've been. It was, in fact, this love of literature. Why the written word, why the spoken word for you?

Parks: Whoo. I don't know. Darn. I bet she had a really good--Did she leave it in the seat somewhere? Maybe? No. Um...I don't know. I know that it's a calling. There are voices in my head. And as I--I can feel, like, stories almost, you know, curled around like a snake around the staff, around my spine. So I can--It's a physical thing. I don't feel like I have something to say or something to tell people. I never feel like that, but I can hear the voices and feel the story.

Tavis: See, I was telling somebody the other day, I've written 7 or 8 books, but all of my stuff is nonfiction, though. And I'm always impressed--Sorry, all my nonfiction writer friends, who are gonna hate me for saying this, but I'm always impressed at people who do fiction. 'Cause with nonfiction, I get a chance to write a book about something, some issue, some real issue that exists in the world, and I get a chance to just share my thoughts on paper and what I think about a variety of issues, maybe something creative, how to advance the cause or whatever. But with fiction, you have to create something, like, out of nothing. There's nothing here. You just, like--You create something out of nothing. I'm very impressed with that.

Parks: Or you create something out of the great everything, which I think is more what fiction writers do.

Tavis: OK, you went too deep on me. Back up. Yeah, pull up out of there. You lost me on that one.

Parks: No, no. The everything, you know? The world, you know? You create a road map where there was--there is sort of, like--I don't know! I said it the first time. Something that--What I feel like I do--And when you go on book tour--Well, you know. You've been. You know. Folks come up to you and say, "Wow, you put into words things that I was always feeling." Or in this book--'Getting Mother's Body' is about family. So they say, "You put into words things about my family that I was feeling and that I could not articulate." So the thing is there. It's just not woven together, and that's what we do, in a way. We kind of...

Tavis: Weave it together.

Parks: Yeah. So maybe we're weavers. Maybe I should work in a hair salon, you know?

Tavis: Ha ha ha! It's unbe-weave-able. Uh, anyway--Ba-dum-dum. Since you mention 'Getting Mother's Body,' tell me more about what the story is.

Parks: It's set in 1963 in west Texas. It's the story of a family, a very poor family, the Beede family. They have no money. They're caught between a rock and a hard place and another rock and another hard place kind of thing.

Tavis: Sounds like me growing up.

Parks: Yeah, well--Yeah. So, it's real rough. They don't have any money. The main character is Billy Beede. She's 16, she is not married, and she's 5 months pregnant, or in the--As they say in the book, "She don't got no husband yet." So she's showing and, you know, no ring on the finger. And everyone in town is looking down on her. Her mother died 6 years before the beginning of the novel. Rumor was, her mother, Willa Mae Beede, was buried with a diamond ring and a pearl necklace. So Billy, this child with no money, decides at long last--figures, "I'm gonna go out and get mother's body. I'm gonna dig up my mother's body so I can get that jewelry, 'cause I need the money." So, basically--And when she decides this, the whole family jumps in the truck with her, and they race off to Arizona where the mother is buried, and they go and dig her up to get the money. So it's kind of like a family road-trip, treasure-hunt novel. Ha ha.

Tavis: We're gonna stop, because I don't wanna give the story away, the rest of it, at least. If my memory serves me correctly, it took you, like, 6 or 7 years to get mother's body, if I can put it that way.

Parks: Yes! Yes, it did.

Tavis: Took 6 or 7 years to birth this project and, like, 3 days to write 'Topdog/Underdog,' which won, like, the most prestigious award there is, the Pulitzer for drama.

Parks: So what are you telling me?

Tavis: I'm not saying nothing. I'm trying to ask you something. How did it take 6 years to do this and 3 days to do what has become your hallmark, that won you the Pulitzer Prize?

Parks: Uh...

Tavis: How do you explain that?

Parks: Well, there's fewer words in the play. OK? I don't know. No, no. 'Topdog/Underdog,' it was as if it got poured right into my head. You know? That's all I know. I was, you know--This was actually like a snake uncoiling. I had to really dig. You know, they go, and they dig up mother's body. I had to go and dig for this story, deep, deep, deep down in the sort of caves of my unconscious, in the caves of my imagination. 'Topdog' was sort of like--

Tavis: It was kind of there.

Parks: Yeah, it was kind of there. It's all there. I tell my writing students--I teach up at Cal Arts. I tell 'em, "It's all already written. You just have to get out of the way." So it took me a longer time to get out of the way. Ha ha!

Tavis: Yeah, you had to wait for a long time. What's the difference between, if there is one--between the adulation, the excitement you feel when you see folk lining up to get their book autographed as compared with folk lining up to go in to see something on Broadway. Is there a different something you get from those 2 different experiences?

Parks: Mmm. Oh, it's--Both feelings are really great and wonderful. It's a feeling of gratitude, gratitude toward the reader who would read the book, gratitude for the audience person who is going to see the play, but also this feeling like, this "us" moment, like, a coming together. Like people, all walks of folk--I mean, "All walks of folk"--but in 'Topdog/Underdog,' the folks who went to see the play on Broadway and who have seen the play around the country and in India--I was just over in India, and there were some university students--

Tavis: That sounds like fun, a trip to India.

Parks: Who loved the play! Loved 'Topdog/Underdog' and have so embraced 'Topdog/Underdog.' But there's a feeling of coming together, like, we're not just a bunch of different groups. We are actually--We are a bunch of different groups, but we are also--we have so much in common. And for both--Also, people who read the book, people who've shown up at these book readings just, you name it. They're out there, you know, lovin' the book. It's a really wonderful feeling. I'm so happy, 'cause that's what my work is for. It's to bring people together.

Tavis: Did the success of 'Topdog/Underdog'--I'm looking at your arms here, because there's a chunk that's been bitten out of your arm.

Parks: Oh, see, that's why I wore my jacket. 'Cause I got my jacket on--

Tavis: Did the bug bite you, take a chunk out of your arm?

Parks: What do you mean, the bug? What do you mean? The boll weevil?

Tavis: Broadway. Yeah.

Parks: Oh. Um, well, I think Broadway is appropriate for some plays. And, I mean, right after I--While I was on book tour last year, I wrote a play called '365 Plays, 365 Days,' which I wrote a play a day for a year. So I have this huge collection of 365 plays--

Tavis: Wait, wait. Stop. Hold the phone. Hold the phone. How do you write--It took you 3 days to do 'Topdog/Underdog,' and that's impressive. A Pulitzer comes behind it. But how do you write a play a day? Like, you did a whole, like, 4 or 5 acts, 4 or 5 scenes? You wrote a whole play a day?

Parks: Oh, right. Some scenes might be a minute long. I mean, you wake up every day, and you say--You recommit yourself to the fact that you're a writer. You say, "I'm a writer. I'm present. What shall I write?" It's that. So it's like a prayer, you know? It's like a way of praying or a way of being, um, grateful for an opportunity to be here.

Tavis: That's a lot of talent, though, to write a play a day.

Parks: It's a lot of, uh--

Tavis: That's a lot of gettin' out the way.

Parks: It's a lot of gettin' out the way, it's a lot of determination, and it's a lot of gratitude, and that's what I wanted to do. So last year, that's what I did. So that play, '365 Days, 365 Plays,' is not--I don't think is a Broadway play. A different kind of venue would be better suited for--

Tavis: Now, you know what I'm excited about. Word is--They say that you have adapted for Ms. Winfrey, or with Ms. Winfrey, Zora Neale Hurston's wonderful work 'And Their Eyes Were Watching God.' True?

Parks: True.

Tavis: Tell me where that is.

Parks: That is...I know they don't do this anymore--

Tavis: Yeah. They're filming already.

Parks: Yes! They're shooting.

Tavis: I didn't know they were shooting already.

Parks: No, no. Up in, uh--What's that town? Anyway, the town near Valencia, California. Disney Ranch. They're shooting. They're doing the--They've set up the whole town. They've done the Eatonville stuff.

Tavis: You've been out there to see it?

Parks: Ohh, it's great! It's--You can't--I mean, it's just a joy. And everyone in the cast and the crew and the producers and everything, everyone is so having such a great time. Darnell Martin is directing it. Wonderful director. Halle Berry, of course, is starring in it. And just a whole bunch of great people.

Tavis: So, Broadway and books and now movies.

Parks: Yeah, well...you know.

Tavis: I ain't mad at you. Do your thing, girl.

Parks: God bless you.

Tavis: Nice to see you. You're welcome back here anytime. Are you actually out on the tour doing this now?

Parks: I'm goin' to St. Louis, uh, day after tomorrow. Yep. So, I'm gonna, you know--I'm gonna run around a little bit more. Got some days tonight and tomorrow in L.A.

Tavis: Well, have fun on the tour, wherever you are. Nice to see you. Suzan-Lori Parks. Wonderful, wonderful writer, and when is--is there a--Before I bring up Dierks Bentley, right quick here. When are we gonna see the Zora Neale Hurston movie?

Parks: They say November, but I'm not sure.

Tavis: Well, I'm excited about that. So you'll come back and see us then. And bring Halle with you when you come back.

Parks: Yeah, and Oprah, too.

Tavis: Ha ha! And Oprah, too. Yeah. We could expand the stage.

Parks: We could get a couch. You need a couch.

Tavis: I got a couch over here. We can bring it out. You bring 'em back, and I'll bring out the couch. Dierks Bentley up next. Stay with us.