GO FORTH (VOL. 37)

Shya Scanlon’s books are ingeniously crafted and then deliberately broken, leaving readers with puzzles, false memories, and an array of sharp, glittery pieces to reflect upon. Here’s an example of an item of reflection: The title of Scanlon’s 2009 book of poetry is In this alone impulse,. What is the “alone-impulse” he refers to? Writing? Is writing an urge to communicate, or an urge to shut oneself away? Or does the author mean we should we rely on impulse alone? That last one grabs my heart, repeats in my head.

I keep turning the pieces this way and that as I go about my day.

Scanlon’s latest book and third novel, The Guild of Saint Cooper (Dzanc, May 2015), has many such moments. It’s a deconstructed adventure story following a writer named Blake as he attempts to cope with events in a post-eco-collapse Seattle that’s been infested with aliens, giant rhododendrons and the spirit of Twin Peaks. Fittingly, in the first scene, Blake steals a television rather than doing anything useful, cleverly foreshadowing that storytelling itself will be a significant part of the adventure. The later narrative jumps around in time, providing Blake with alternative past stories to influence his present.

Scanlon is also the curator of The Twin Peaks Project, a series of essays on the show’s influences running in various venues during the year of its 25th anniversary (and possible revival). None of this quite tells you how funny his books are, or how successfully he uses distortion to fuel character development. To break something is to know it. Or as Scanlon once wrote in poem, “The floor by steps and splinters, the rug by pulling yarn.” Funny and true.

—Valerie Stivers

I. FREEDOM IS LONELY WORK

THE BELIEVER: Shya, I didn’t know you before you became a reader of my blog and I became a reader of your work, but now we’ve met at AWP. Do you remember that mysterious open door we saw, somewhere late at night on the street in Minneapolis, leading to a brightly lit emerald green stairway, and ever wonder what was at the top of it?

SHYA SCANLON: As it happens, I know exactly what’s at the top. The summer between my junior and senior years of college, my girlfriend and I worked in St. Paul as resident counselors at a suburban house lived in by three adults with various physical, psychological, and emotional disabilities, one of whom was autistic. He didn’t speak, but loved animals, and was preternaturally gifted at picking winners in horse racing. It was something he did for fun, and no money was involved except for once. One...