An Interview with Thom Jones

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FIGHTIN' WORDS: AN INTERVIEW WITH THOM JONES

Thom Jones writes of war, boxing, sickness and sorrow with a blunt air of familiarity and a cyclone of words. His characters -- much like the author himself, who suffers from epilepsy and diabetes -- have been pummeled by the world, but they refuse to be knocked out. His three short story collection -- The Pugilist at Rest, a National Book Awards finalist; Cold Snap and now SONNY LISTON WAS A FRIEND OF MINE (Little, Brown, $23) -- showcases a supreme writer in the throes of a thinking man's agony.

We spoke with Jones recently about his life, his stories and his passion for words. He will be signing and reading from his new collection at Off Square Books on Monday, January 25, at 5:30 p.m.

DR: Not so long ago you were christened a literary star. What was that like?

Jones: You used to hear these stories, overnight success. Out of nowhere. Who's this guy? Some a*** who lives in Washington. Every time I pick up a magazine the motherf***'s there. Who is he? He's some guy, some janitor or something. Once every five years a new writer will emerge like that. The idea is that it happened overnight. In truth, I paid my dues. It took a long time. I was writing those same stories 20 years ago, but they were just too much in those days. It wasn't until the Baby Boomers became editors that my voice was acceptable.

DR: Did that sudden attention affect your work?

Jones: No, not really. I was just reading a Flannery O'Connor book about writing short stories and novels. Flannery's one of my heroes. She was talking about how you're writing for the good of the piece. You're not writing for glory or fame or any of that. It's a very spiritual thing. You're looking for meaning in your piece. It's a quest, almost for God. She was saying in that form (short story) it's different from the novel, like the 100-yard dash as compared to the marathon. Things have to be a lot more dramatic in a short story, and they have to happen fast, and there's not room to fudge or write a bad line or lose your reader. And when it's all over, the person better go, "That did something for me." That's what Flannery did for me. I thought, yeah, she just expressed what I felt but couldn't articulate.

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