The old saw about literature is, it doesn’t make anything happen, people just read it to be entertained. Here’s Wes Edens (creator of Brightline). I was dumbstruck when he said, ‘If I hadn’t read this book by this guy Les …’ When was the last time some billionaire gave somebody else credit for one of their bright ideas? I can use it with my writing students to say, look, what you’re doing is important. The arts are just as influential in making things happen.
It was a good thing I had started as a novelist. I had this mountain of material and started writing. I was boring myself to tears. And then it occurred to me: wait a minute. The story here is one of the richest men in the world undertakes the engineering challenge of the century and the worst storm in history blows it all away. You couldn’t make up anything better than that. Just tell it that way — as if Henry Flagler were a character in a novel, except everything has to be true, of course. I almost called the book The Man Who Invented Florida.
My parents were blue-collar factory workers. Being a writer didn’t seem very practical. I went to law school, and I dropped out of law school. This was at Columbia. And then I went to grad school. While I was in graduate school for social psychology, I go into the catalog for spring semester and I see creative writing. That’s where the light went on.
I did an interview with Fox Business News. We were talking about Flagler and talking about Carnegie and about Mulholland. I had written about these business visionaries. Nothing mystical about it. Being a visionary means you’re able to envision what you want to make happen, what you want to do with your life, what you want to do with your business. And what do I need to do to make that vision come true. And that’s what these guys had in common. It’s not about being able to read the future.
I’m very happy that I kind of stumbled into nonfiction. People read these books on history because they think there’s something interesting in the subject matter. That, to me, is liberating. I no longer have to worry about somebody’s friggin’ subjective notion of whether or not I’m a hot item.
I came here as a visiting writer in 1981-82 at FIU. That’s where I met Kimberly. Her mother was in my class. Kimberly and I became friends. Kimberly and I were both invited to her mother’s Thanksgiving dinner that year. I said, we live close by one another, why don’t we drive out, ride together? That night was the beginning of a relationship that grew out of a friendship and now 42 years later...
There’s something about South Florida. It can be intimidating, the size, the traffic, the pace of life in Miami, I guess. And then some people don’t like the culture. I love the diversity. I love the student body. When I’ve gone back to Ohio in the winter and the trees are bare and the sky is leaden, I can’t wait to get back to Florida. My children are happy here. Hey, when I came to Miami, I hadn’t published any books. Now I’ve got 25 books.
Of everybody I’ve hired, nobody has ever left the writing program, which I’m more proud of than anything. Because that must mean that I foster a good working environment. Somebody asked me once, how do you manage creative people? I said you hire really good people and then you get the hell out of the way.
Spill got made (into a movie). Brian Bosworth the ex-football, the Seahawks guy, starred in it. It still has a kind of cult following for reasons I can’t understand. I tell people it’s like staring into the sun for 106 minutes. That’s how bad it is.
But The Man Who Invented Christmas (movie), it’s good. We get to the airport in Dublin. Guy’s looking at my papers. ‘So Mr. Standiford, what brings you to Dublin?’ ‘I’m here because they’re making a movie of my book, The Man Who Invented Christmas.’ He looks at me, says, ‘Truly?’ Sea of people. He turns to the guy in the other line. ‘Hey, Fred, guy says he’s here because they’re making a movie out of his book.’ Fred is, ‘No kidding. Congratulations.’ The whole place erupts in applause. Almost as good as Wes Edens.
Dickens had to fight through hell and high water in service of his belief that [A Christmas Carol] just absolutely had to be published. Look, the book turns out to have sold the most copies of any novel in all history. What if he had faltered in his confidence? I tell my students, there’s an object lesson here. You, above all people, have to believe in your work because if you don’t, who else can you expect to?
I love what I do. Writing to me is like breathing. When I’m not working on something, I suddenly realize, how much golf can you play? I get itchy, I get nervous. Writing is what gives me a sense of meaning and purpose.
There’s no other reason to write except for the pleasure you come away with at the end of the day. Writing is its own reward. Publication, money you make, any accolades you get — it’s always nice. The only thing you can count on is your own sense of satisfaction of having given it your all. And that’s enough, that really is.