'Angela's Ashes' author visits Basalt

BASALT, Colorado - When fans talk to Frank McCourt, so often they want to know how to become a great writer.

He doesn't pretend to have the answer.

"I don't have any messages for anybody," he said, flatly. "I don't have any advice for anybody. I don't preach."

The best he can suggest is to just start "scribbling."

"Nobody can tell you how to write," he stressed. "I just tell people, 'Go scribble. Don't write, scribble. And something might come out of those scribbles.'"

It certainly did for him. Since his first memoir, "Angela's Ashes," flashed to prominence in 1996, McCourt, 78, has taken home a Pulitzer and topped several best-selling lists. He's written two other autobiographies, "'Tis" and "Teacher Man," and has been the subject of a movie. His stories, from his dirt-poor youth in both America and Ireland to his 30 years of teaching, have become known by millions.

He didn't want talk about his notoriety much, though.

"You get tired of yourself," he said, adding, "I'd like to talk about Chinese water polo or something, rather than myself."

And it was hard to tell if he was joking.

What he was ready to discuss was his work. He might be famous, well-paid, a big name, but that almost can't go to his head. He feels too focused.

"It doesn't affect me at all, because all I know is that I have to write another book," he said. "That's all I think about."

It's been that way for years, too. Throughout his life, he was jotting down his memories in bits and spurts. It wasn't cohesive, but his writing was always there, changing and growing, never letting up. Unlike other people who dream of putting together some best-selling book, he had no expectations - just a need to tell his story.

When he retired, he got to work.

"There was no question, I had to do it. That's all. That's the one thing I wanted to do with my life," he explained. "And if I hadn't done that, I would have died howling."

All those words came out of him simply, matter-of-fact. He didn't sound full of himself and, instead, downplayed the epic quality of his life. He guessed that readers enjoy his books because they're so universal. Poverty, a drunk father and a put-upon mother - maybe those are themes that many people can understand. He feels that there are others with bigger stories than his, though. Those who come across the border illegally, who don't know English, who have to hide all the time, have pasts that are "much more heroic than mine," he insisted.

But McCourt's story is the one that America knows and loves.

On Tuesday, he'll be here, in the valley, talking about it. He'll take questions and meet his legion of local fans. They'll probably be clamoring to hear more about his life first-hand, and surely he'll regale them with what they want to know. The crowd will most definitely applaud and smile and appreciate him. Every year, he does gigs like that all over the country.

Still, where he likes being the most, he said, is "home."

That's where his work is, and that's what he loves.

So, after such success, what's the most important thing in McCourt's life?

He answered the question quickly, as if frustrated by its obviousness.

"To keep writing. To write honestly," he said. "And that's it."