Q&A With Dan Jenkins, Vol. 7 "His Ownself: A Semi-Memoir"

Dan Jenkins has published his 21st book, His Ownself: A Semi-Memoir (Also available in Kindle edition here).

There have been some super write-ups and reviews, including this one from Golf World's Bill Fields, this one from Grantland, this one from the New York Times and this one from Texas Monthly. Each is worthwhile if you're a Jenkins fan or wanting to learn more about the craft of writing.

Dan has participated in with six previous Q&As. In order: here, here, here, here, here and here.

So here goes, eight semi-questions for the masterful Jenkins, including an all important Downton Abbey season 4 inquiry.

GS: The most shocking revelation from the semi-memoir is that in your youth, you were a semi-Californian. And yet you became a smoker. On a serious note, do you think your love of cinema and exposure to it made you a better writer?

DJ: I only spent four summers in California as a kid, but I treasure every memory. For a prairie dog Texan, it was all so damn glamorous. I'd never even seen a double-dip ice cream cone before. And as S. J. Perelman said, "Hollywood is the place that gave us the shirt worn outside the pants." Movies had everything to do with me wanting to be a newspaperman. During those summers when my aunt was working in wardrobe at Paramount I'm quite sure I saw more stars than I mention in the book. There used to be a diner just outside the Paramount gates, and there were days when I would sit in there with my grandmother waiting for my aunt to get off work. She would have a coffee and I would have a piece of pie. One day a guy sat next to me on a stool and ordered a bowl of chili. It was Jack Oakie. I was stunned. All he said was, "How ya doin', kid?" File under Big Moments in Small Lives.


GS: You open the book lamenting the demise of writer apparel and the bar. Do you sympathize with today's media having to feed the 24/7 media machine and not having the luxury of hanging out?

DJ: The top writers and columnists don't have to feed the 24/7 machine today. They do what we always did. And the others are just doing what "the others" always did on newspapers, stay late to get the agate in and the notes and the fishing reports. You have to somehow make your own way in this business, strive to be better, don't turn down assignments, don't complain about days off, have typing machine, will travel, carve out a niche. Read. Read everything. Keep up with the world. And if you don't love the business, get out and do something else. End of lecture.


GS: You write on a computer now. How does it affect the end product compared to a typewriter? Anything you miss about the old manuals?

DJ: I was late to computers, but I certainly like them now. So much easier to correct and change stuff. I don't miss the typewriters so much as I miss the friendships and humor and cigarette smoke and clatter of the old city rooms. It was exciting. Every damn day.


GS: Could you get Semi-Tough or You Gotta Play Hurt published today? Or would political correctness have doomed you to self-publishing?

DJ: I think you could get Semi Tough published today. I haven't picked up a novel today that doesn't drop more f-bombs than I ever thought about. The charm or uniqueness of Semi was taking the reader backstage and into the locker rooms and hotel suites and bar rooms that I'd known---and then had sport with. Making friendships with athletes and keeping their secrets was most helpful. I wound up using it in fiction.


GS: You explain in the book some of your favorite media sources and writers. How much more are you getting news from the Internet vs. print?

DJ: I read as much as I can to keep up with the world. Newspapers, books, the net, all kinds of columns---sports, politics, show biz, all that. Too many sportswriters and "golf" writers don't seem to care about anything else. They're missing something, and possibly something helpful in their work.


GS: Is there any tool or trick in today's media world you wish you had when you were starting out?

DJ: Not that I can think of. I couldn't have had better teachers. They came on the printed page---John Lardner, Red Smith, Henry McLemore, Damon Runyon, Grantland Rice, Wolcott Gibbs, James Thurber, Dorothy Parker. As Red once said, "You start out lifting from your heroes and eventually you find your own voice." If I tried to imitate anyone, it was John Lardner and Red Smith, their smoothness, their tongue in cheek look at things. I always had an attitude about things, so I like to think I took what I could from Lardner and Red---the two greatest who ever lived ---and perhaps gave it an edge, or occasionally drew blood, but unintentionally at times. Couldn't help myself. I'll say this, and hope I can stand behind it: I hope I never sacrificed truth or fact for a joke, and I don't think I ever wrote a line I didn't believe.

GS: So is Bates a murderer?

DJ: I'm tired of Bates. I'm deeply concerned about who Lady Mary is going to wind up with.


GS: Ike's Tree is gone, everything else is about the same at Augusta. What excites you most about going back to Augusta besides getting to hear an update on Tiger's back?

DJ: What I love most about the Masters is the nostalgia. It's always a great event, sure, but I've never known a nicer sporting arena to live in the past. The Rose Bowl would be in that list. I don't know any other way to say this, but I have always been an old-fashioned, traditionalist kind of guy---even as a kid. What happens today wouldn't mean as much to me if all that other stuff hadn't happened in earlier years. We're all part of history---from Jones's hickory, to Hogan's white cap, to Tiger's back spasms. I hope a lot of this comes across in "His Ownself."