Carter Sickels

It is rare that a book moves me as much as Carter Sickels' The Prettiest Star from Hub City Press. My wife, Linda-Marie, would often find me off by myself reading it, staring at nothing in particular as I contemplated what was happening to the characters of this, so very, very, moving, book. "Are you okay?" she would ask, concerned. "Oh, sorry," I remember answering once. "It's this book, this story, it's heart wrenching and so beautiful at the same time." Thank you, Carter, for writing a narrative that so moved me. Here are some examples of the attention The Prettiest Star is already receiving:

O Magazine’s 31 most anticipated LGBTQ books of 2020

Entertainment Weekly names The Prettiest Star one of 50 most anticipated books of 2020!

BookRiot’s “Most Anticipated LGBTQ Books of 2020”

Atlanta Journal Constitution’s “10 Southern Books We Can't Wait to Read in 2020”

A few blurbs and a quick review:


"Carter Sickels' characters are painfully flawed and wholly, believably human in their failings. This unflinching honesty, conveyed in finely crafted prose, makes for a memorable and unsettling novel. Powerfully affecting and disturbing."—Kirkus Reviews (Starred Review)


"This tragic story of AIDS and violent homophobia stands out by showing the transcendent power of queer communities to make their voices endure through art."—Publishers Weekly

"The Prettiest Star is a lyrical and compulsively readable novel about the intricate, tangled bonds of family and the way human beings can be both profoundly cruel and surprisingly wonderful. These characters are people we know, and they'll stay with me for a very long time. This deeply moving novel is much more than the story of one family dealing with the worst tragedy of their lives in a small Ohio town in 1986. It's the story of all of us—the story of America, then and now, how far we've come, and how far we still have to go." —Silas House, author of Southernmost

And now for my interview:

Carter, tell me about where you live and what you love about it.

I live in Lexington, Kentucky. There are a lot of writers and musicians in the area, and we all support each other and attend each other’s events. There are a lot of independent, local shops. The Kentucky Theater is a terrific little local movie theater, and we also have the wonderful Joseph Beth Bookstore. It’s a small, vibrant city.

Where were you living when you were 3 years old? Are they fond memories?

My family was still living in a suburb of Columbus, Ohio then, in a small house with a backyard that went right up to the railroad tracks. I have good memories of that place. 

3 year old Carter

My dad had a garden, and grew onions, beans, tomatoes. I spent my days reading or outside in the backyard. It was a different time. The kids all ran around the neighborhood, riding bikes and Big Wheels. 

Do you have a favorite teacher from your elementary or high school years? Are you still in touch with him or her?

I had several wonderful teachers in elementary school who encouraged my love of reading and writing. In high school, I had an English teacher, Ms. Gilbach, who was passionate about literature. She was tough and a lot of kids didn’t like her, but she inspired me. I took a creative writing class with her, and most of what we did was read. I believe we created our own book list. I was already a bookworm, but that class encouraged me to read widely and deeply.

 Is there a book that changed the way you look at life?

Many queer authors have been important to me, and their books inspired me to write without shame, to write about queer experiences and queer lives, including: Dorothy Allison, James Baldwin, Michael Cunningham, Thomas Page McBee, Garth Greenwell, among many others.

Recently, I read The Overstory by Richard Powers, and it changed the way I looked at trees.

Not just looked at them, but felt intrigued and awed and spiritually moved by them. I read it while I was at a writing residency at Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, and I’d walk around the grounds, studying the trees, or sit under an elm and watch the leaves move in the breeze. I felt transformed by that book.

Do you have a favorite children’s book?

I read a lot when I was a kid, and had many favorites. I read all of Beverly Cleary’s books. The Great Brain series.

and Harriet the Spy. When I was very, very young, I used to borrow these picture books by Patricia M. Scarry from the library called Little Richard and Prickles—it was a series about a rabbit and porcupine.

They were best friends and had adventures, and dressed in bib overalls. Sensitive little masculine figures. Each of the stories had a message. I have no idea why they spoke to me—cute, boyish animals in bib overalls? Maybe, since I was also drawn to other couples who were maybe just friends, maybe queer – Frog and Toad, Ernie and Bert.

Also, though they were picture books with wonderful illustrations, they contained quite a bit of text and white space. The illustrations were just tiny glimpses. Together, with the words on the page, they sparked a much bigger world in my imagination.

Is there any message you want to give to or anything you want to say to future generations when they read this interview?

Be kind and compassionate to each other, and to the earth and animals -- this is our only planet, and we’ve done such harm to it. Follow your passion, create art, tell your story and truth in all its complexity, and be an active citizen—and please, for the love of God, help this country move to the left. 

How did you meet your husband, Jose? How did your first date go?

We met in Portland, through friends, ten years ago. I was living in North Carolina at the time and was visiting the Pacific Northwest—I was planning to move there at the end of the summer. After I went back east, we started writing each other letters and long emails, and talking on the phone. Eventually, he came out to visit me, and then later joined me on the cross-country trip.

We packed up my little two-door Honda Civic and headed West. We stayed camped along the way, and I met his family in Kansas. It was a wonderful, wild, and life-changing trip. Because of our jobs, we’ve often had to do long-distance, but now we have a home in Lexington. With a garden. It’s nice, peaceful.

How would you say you are different now than you were in your 20’s.

In my 20s, I was figuring out a lot –about gender and sexuality, about moving away from home, about life, about writing. Later in life, in my 30s, I started to transition, and also started to publish. I’m more comfortable with myself, more settled in my own skin. I don’t worry so much what others think. I’m calmer, happier.

What would constitute a “perfect” evening” for you?

Before COVID-19, I would have said: reading a book, eating dinner with my husband, and settling in with our dogs on the couch to watch a movie or TV series. A quiet evening at home. But, now, as I’m writing these answers during COVID-19 and practicing social distancing, I would love to be with good friends at a bar or restaurant, surrounded by people, music, life.

How would you compare your childhood with Brian, the main character of your book?

We both grew up in small, rural towns in Ohio, and I think both of us, in different ways, dreamed about other places, about other ways of living. But Brian is a fictional character, and although I drew on elements of my experiences and emotions to create him, we don’t share the same stories. Brian is a baseball star and a popular kid in high school, but he feels most himself when he discovers the music of David Bowie. Bowie represented queerness and light and possibility. Brian moves to New York when he’s very young, where he finds community and support and freedom—before all that is taken away. 

Were there parts in The Prettiest Star that your editor cut that you hated to see go? If so, what were they?

No, once the novel found its home at Hub City, it had already been through many drafts. Brian’s sections, which are video diaries, took a while to figure out how to format.  In a much earlier draft, I also had these short sections in third person that were scenes from Brian’s films, and once I made the decision to cut them, I felt relieved—they were too fussy, and the novel was stronger without them. Typically, once I figure out what needs to be cut from a novel or a story, I don’t mourn the loss—I like making those kinds of cuts that will make the novel stronger, healthier, and leaner. 

And finally, Carter:

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME

to any period from before recorded history to yesterday,

be safe from harm, be rich, poor or in-between, if appropriate to your choice,

actually, experience what it was like to live in that time, anywhere at all,

meet anyone, if you desire, speak with them, listen to them, be with them.

When would you go?

Where would you go?

Who would you want to meet?

And most importantly, why do you think you chose this time?

This is a tough question, especially because right now, all I can think about is this terrible present. But I’ve been thinking a lot about the earth and climate change, how much damage humans have done, how we have not been good stewards of our planet. I would love to see what this country looked like before humans showed up—especially before Europeans arrived. 

To walk among the mostly untouched Appalachian forests, or stare up at the gigantic, majestic redwoods. To experience the diversity of trees, wildlife, birds, and witness this place before pollution, mining, deforestation. I would love to see that kind of wilderness.  I wouldn’t want to stay too long, just get a glimpse. Honor the trees. Thank them. 
 

Right now, I also wouldn’t mind returning to more recent pre-Trump years (remember those?). I don’t know what I personally could do, but maybe if I could shift or alter the future, to get people to understand the urgency of the 2016 election. Wouldn’t that be something? Or, maybe I would zip to the kind of future so many of us are dreaming of—a new president, more equitable distribution of wealth, high-quality and affordable healthcare available to everyone, for starters.

But here we are. There is no time machine. Here we are, and we must get through this—we must pay attention to the present, look to the past for information and to understand how we got here, and dream of the future. Maybe books are a kind of time machine. I’d like to think that they’re our guides out of this mess. Books and art will help us dream and imagine and create a future that is kinder, and greener, and more equitable and sustainable.

Thank you Carter for your candid comments and for writing such an incredibly moving book.

Readers, The Prettiest Star has been delayed because of the Corona Virus so please pre-order it from your local indie bookstore, they will be happy to send it to you when it is released. You will be so glad you did!