Last summer in Mankato, Minnesota at the inaugural LauraPalooza conference, the very first speaker on the podium was Kelly Ferguson, who read from her forthcoming book, My Life As Laura: How I Searched for Laura Ingalls Wilder and Found Myself, which was just released this month.
In honor of both the book release and Kelly’s birthday today, Beyond Little House caught up with her to find out more about this latest addition to “Little House” literature.
Q: Tell us about your Little House fandom.
A: “Obsessive” would not be too strong of a word. I was six when my mom gave the yellow box set for my birthday and not long after, I realized I could go back to Laura whenever I needed to be okay. I rediscovered as an adult that I could return to the books and get that “back to center” feeling when life was a mess. The same yellow box set I had as a child sits right next to me RIGHT NOW. So, yes. Obsessive.
Q: Synopsis of the book, in your own words?
“Woman in state of transition dons prairie dress and decides to retrace the pioneer journey of her childhood idol in the hope of figuring out herself for once and freaking all.”
Q: What was the hardest part about writing the book?
The first challenge was I had no idea how to write a book. I was mindboggled. Structure was the hardest part. I had all these ideas and I had written all these pages but had no idea what to do with them. For help, I analyzed other nonfiction books that could serve as role models (for instance, Candyfreak by Steve Almond and Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell). At some point I realized that the road trip itself was the structure, which now seems simple. I will also say that Chapter One was a beast and I have about thirty drafts.
Q: What surprised you the most in the process of writing?
That over four hundred pages of writing boiled down to two hundred after editing and revision.
Q: Where did your trip take you? Over how long?
From the book: “Two weeks, five towns.” Aside from Mansfield, Missouri, I only visited places that were settings for the books. I spent more time in the Camry than anywhere else, so it’s a good thing prairies fascinate me. I still haven’t been to Malone, or Spring Valley, or Burr Oak, but I’m scheming ways to get there.
Q: Where were you (in your life) when you began traveling?
I was in a tenuous but giddy state. My boyfriend and I had just gotten back together (hence, tenuous), and I was deliriously happy living in Missoula, Montana. I had just moved West after twenty years of waiting tables “back East” in the same town. In many ways I felt like a pioneer. I didn’t know what would happen, but I was high on expectations and opportunity.
Q: Had you always thought you’d write a book?
I had always dreamed of writing a book. I’m pretty sure most avid readers feel the same way. The problem was I suffered so much anxiety throughout my twenties that even thinking the word “book” put me to bed hyperventilating through a sheet. But (like Laura, probably because of Laura) I can be very determined. Around the age of 32 I began writing every day, even if it was just for myself. From there I wrote for the local weekly, then began writing short stories and essays. I loved it when I found out Laura first writing job was also as a columnist.
Q: How did the idea for the book come about?
I’d been writing about Laura for a while, working on this essay that kept spiraling out of control. The “A-ha!” moment for the road trip came about when I was driving through South Dakota on my way to Montana. I saw the brown sign for the Laura Ingalls Wilder Homestead and wigged out. I knew right then, as Liz Lemon would say, “Me want to go to there.” Events progressed from there.
Q: What did you learn about Laura in your travels that you didn’t expect?
The variety and complexity of small town Midwest culture. I’d always conceived of Laura’s towns as “West,” but a map quickly reveals the middling states. I’d always thought of the Midwest as the states one drives exactly 5 mph past the speed limit on the way to Yellowstone. But if you get on the two-lane highways, there’s a rural beauty that changes dramatically from South Dakota to Minnesota to Kansas. Every time I stepped out of the car I was in a new world.
Q: What did you learn about yourself?
I had always thought of myself as a weenie, but everyone kept saying “how brave you are!” until I realized I am brave. There’s a book called Feel the Fear and Do it Anyway, which I never read, but I have considered the title many times. This concept, of course, is a lesson I first learned from Laura. She always gulped and faced challenges no matter how difficult—physical, social and emotional. But this doesn’t mean she never had doubts.
Q: Where can people buy the book?
The short answer is online at Amazon, Barnes & Noble Online, or directly from Press 53, my publisher. The long story is since that I’m on a small press, it’s very difficult to get into bookstores—even local ones. With Borders closing and the general “sky is falling” atmosphere in NYC publishing, bookselling seems to be going the way of the Indie Music DIY (Do It Yourself) scene. I’m setting up readings at art galleries and coffeeshops and people’s houses, and basically, selling books out of the trunk. Look for a well-traveled Toyota Camry with three-year-old expired Montana tags near you.
Q: What part of the book resonates the most, do you think? With readers, with fans, with you?
I’ll be interested to find out what resonates. Or if the book resonates. I find myself thinking back to De Smet resident Elizabeth Schlosser, winner (at the time of my trip) of the LIW Society Middle School Essay Contest, who wrote, “Our lives may be different, but I think all little girls have a little prairie girl waiting to come out.”
Q: The book has taken a long journey from proposal to publication. Can you share some of that?
Well, I can’t give away the ending, since the last few pages reveal the important parts of that story. All I can say now is that when I first started out, I had no more idea of what would happen than the Ingalls family did when they loaded up and crossed a frozen Lake Pepin.
