A celebrated writer and celebrator of writers tells what has shaped her life and career
For the longest time, Teresa Miller wanted to get as far from Oklahoma as possible—to escape from her distant father and abusive stepmother, from the ache of her mother’s death, and from the small-town insularity of Tahlequah. She longed for New York and Hollywood, for all the glamorous settings that transcended grief—at least on television.
Miller never made it out of Oklahoma permanently, though she came to treasure the region that kept her heart anchored even as her spirit cast far and wide. In Means of Transit—A Slightly Embellished Memoir, Miller writes of journeys that turned into life-altering experiences as she learned to “story” her way beyond the impasses. Still other trips, begun with great promise, found her wandering through confusing back roads, relying on more seasoned storytellers for direction. Eventually she established a literary center simply by reaching out to such authors as Jim Lehrer, Maya Angelou, and Isabel Allende, fellow travelers who taught her as much about life as about writing.
The author takes readers from her early childhood, to a short stint in a New York acting school, to the writing of her first novel, and the painful decades of writer’s block that followed its publication. We also learn of the author’s terrifying encounter with a stalker, a dark sort of Everyman who personified her late-night suspicions about even the people closest to her.
Told with humor, candor, and the same haunting lyricism that distinguished her early work, Miller’s story is about learning the ultimate life lesson—that when we do lose our way, our hearts can guide us.
