Kentucky author, Ed McClanahan died November 27, 2021. Known for his bawdy sense of humor, he was a character in his own right. After meeting Ken Kesey at Stanford, he became a “Merry Prankster,” which was depicted in Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. He was considered one of the Commonwealth’s best writers, but I knew him better as my first and only creative writing professor, in 1978, my junior year of college. It was dumb luck that I met Ed.
During that first class, I knew he was different from us common folk. He stood at least six feet tall, and his curly shock of blondish/brown hair made him seem even taller. His bushy mustache could not hide his perpetual grin, as if planning his next joke. I can still hear his explosive voice, ricocheting around the small seminar room and blasting its way into the hall. He claimed his volume was the result of dropping a lot of acid.
Usually he read stories aloud, primarily Flannery O’Connor and occasionally Raymond Carver, saying that reading informs writing, and I learned how to listen for the rhythm of the words on the page.
I’m not the first person to have praised him for his ability to create community and inspire other writers. The first words Ed spoke to me beyond roll call were very motivating – “Your writing reminds me of Larry McMurtry. Have you read The Last Picture Show?” In the 1970s, we could hang out with professors at one of the many bars that surrounded campus without a ruckus. Ed had a favorite, and would invite students to continue our discussions about writing over a beer and a bite to eat.
Fellow Kentucky writer and “Merry Prankster,” Gurney Norman came to class for a visit. Much to my surprise, Ed asked him to read aloud my first attempt at a short story. I received high praise for my attempt as well as discussion of strengths and weaknesses, mainly pointing out that I needed to “slow down and let the story tell itself.”
Ed also shared his own writing in class, starting with the short story, “Ennis the Penis,” published in Playboy. He also read parts of his work-in-progress, which would become the novel The Natural Man, a coming of age story of a high school basketball player where the game reigns supreme. That novel took 20 years from inception to publication, driving home for me that sometimes good writing takes more time and effort than we can imagine and that we shouldn’t give up on the stories we are driven to tell.
He didn’t put much stock in evaluations by students, saying we wouldn’t know for years how the course impacted us. I knew then the class provided me with fabulous learning opportunities, but it was quite a while before I realized how he inspired me to keep writing and helped me accept my Kentucky voice.
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