Self-taught artist, writer and musician, Carol Es is
known primarily for creating personal narratives within a wide spectrum of
media. A native Los Angelina, she often uses past experience as fuel for her
subject matter. Writing on art, her articles have appeared in Huffington
Post, Whitehot Magazine, and Coagula Art
Journal; her prose published with small presses — Bottle
of Smoke Press, Islands Fold, and Chance
Press among them. Additionally, she makes handmade Artist’s books
which have been acquired for such collections as the Getty and the National
Museum of Women in the Arts.
Carol is a two-time recipient of the ARC Grant from the
Durfee Foundation, the Pollock-Krasner, and a Wynn Newhouse Award for her art.
She’s also earned grants from Asylum Arts and the National Arts and Disability
Center/California Arts Council for writing. In 2019, she won the Bruce Geller
Memorial Prize (WORD Grant) from the American Jewish University.
Blog: www.esart.com/blog
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/esart
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/carolesart
What’s inside the mind of a nonfiction or autobiographical author?
Inside the mind of this particular one is an insect that stings at me
and makes sure I’m truthful. But because I am a storyteller first and foremost,
I’m always looking for connection while weaving together a compelling
narrative. I try to be authentic in the way I tell a story, just as I would in
fiction. Art is art though, any way you slice it.
What is so great about being an author?
Nothing.
When do you hate it?
Probably most of the time.
What is a regular writing day like for you?
Twelve hours of sheer torture.
How do you handle negative reviews?
At first, I don’t care. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. Then, not
very well. But after a while I get over it.
How do you handle positive reviews?
Not very well.
What is the usual response when you tell a new acquaintance that you’re
an author?
Actually, I don’t tell people very often. If I do, I’m likely to mention
my short stories or poems. I find when I talk about the memoir, people don’t
think of you as a real author.
What do you do on those days you don’t feel like writing? Do you force
it or take a break?
If I’m working on something, I’ll write until it’s finished. Then I’ll
take a break.
Any writing quirks?
Like? Not sure. I tend to write and rewrite to an obsessive extreme.
It’s a bit sickening.
What would you do if people around you didn’t take your writing
seriously or see it as a hobby?
I feel like that’s the case a lot of the time. Some people do see me as
a writer and those are enriching relationships. Many other people don’t see me
that way, and most often I don’t either, and I suppose it makes me sad.
However, I can’t do anything about it. I think I can just keep trying to write
better, but is it to satisfy them, or me? I have to ask myself that sometimes.
Some authors seem to have a love-hate relationship to writing. Can you
relate?
Absolutely.
Do you think success as an author must be linked to money?
No. Not for me anyway, and not unless that was your motivation to write
in the first place. I can’t really say there are right and wrong reasons to
write. Success means different things to different people. But I definitely
don’t think happiness is linked to money.
What has writing taught you?
That I’m most likely delusional.
Leave us with some words of wisdom.
Be open to advice, but don’t let anyone push you off track.
About the Book:
Shrapnel
in the San Fernando Valley is a guided tour through a Tilt-A-Whirl life
that takes so many
turns that you may find yourself looking up from the pages and wondering how the hell one person managed to fit them all into 40-odd years. And many of them are odd years indeed. From a rootless, abusive childhood and mental illness through serious and successful careers in music and art, much of which were achieved while being involved in a notoriously destructive mind-control cult. Carol Es presents her story straight up. No padding, no parachute, no dancing around the hard stuff. Through the darkness, she somehow finds a glimmer of light by looking the big bad wolf straight in the eye, and it is liberating. When you dare to deal with truth, you are free. Free to find the humor that is just underneath everything and the joy that comes with taking the bumpy ride.
turns that you may find yourself looking up from the pages and wondering how the hell one person managed to fit them all into 40-odd years. And many of them are odd years indeed. From a rootless, abusive childhood and mental illness through serious and successful careers in music and art, much of which were achieved while being involved in a notoriously destructive mind-control cult. Carol Es presents her story straight up. No padding, no parachute, no dancing around the hard stuff. Through the darkness, she somehow finds a glimmer of light by looking the big bad wolf straight in the eye, and it is liberating. When you dare to deal with truth, you are free. Free to find the humor that is just underneath everything and the joy that comes with taking the bumpy ride.
Illustrated
with original sketches throughout, Shrapnel
in the San Fernando Valley is not just another survivor's tale, it’s a
creative perspective through moments of vulnerability where the most raw and
intimate revelations are laid bare. As an artist and a woman finding
self-worth, it’s truly a courageous, relatable story that will keep you
engaged to the very end.