For Cheryl Strayed, writing ‘Wild’ was just the beginning | The Seattle Times
Spouse, Cheryl Strayed. Brian Lindstrom (born February 12, ) is a documentary filmmaker. In , Lindstrom Brian Lindstrom. Brian Lindstrom in Read the Cheryl Strayed interview on Telegraph Film. There's a pivotal scene in her memoir, Wild, when a twentysomething Cheryl Strayed is perched atop a mountain. . Strayed met her second husband, the documentary-maker Brian Lindstrom, Copyright of Telegraph Media Group Limited The first thing author Cheryl Strayed bought was a $2, piano for her two children. husband, Brian Lindstrom, also have a son, Carver, 10), and Strayed has a They met over the phone, after Strayed's agent sent the actress a copy of Seattle Restaurant Week · Newspapers in Education · Fund for the.
But what happened was amazing. But he sent me an email telling me he read Wild, he really loved the book, he thanked me for the way I wrote about him and us. He said he felt like we reached a new place of understanding.
Cheryl Strayed: the hike that saved my life
I saw my stepfather in Duluth when I was there on my book tour, and you know, there are some painful aspects of that relationship that I write about. And he hugged me and told me he loved me.
All of those people I just named, I wrote about them with love. But still, people get hurt. In the piece I mentioned on xojane.
I also reveal that I cheated—something I never told him. Oh, by the way, at the end of our marriage, I cheated. And I got a lot out of writing—and publishing—it. Somehow I seem to keep flying under the radar. Elissa Bassist once tweeted something about how she writes as if no one in her family knows how to read. I tend to write as if no one in my life knows how to Google, which is pretty much the case.
Things are going to come out in the work that are really important. But also, you say that so many people wrote to you because your work helped them, and I have that experience a lot as both Sugar and Cheryl. Some people are also just not fans of memoir and first-person writing. The whole idea of it makes them uncomfortable. You need to assess that. Like, is someone rightfully saying, why would you say such a nasty thing about me, or what right do you have to write about my cocaine addiction or whatever?
Part of me wishes I could just publish my memoir or collection of stories as a series of Rumpus Letters in the Mail.
It was such a good experience writing the one I did —partly because I knew I was writing to a very limited audience of 2, subscribers, none whom, as far as I knew, were related to me, or exes of mine. I felt like I could put some really personal stuff in there. I did this, and then I did that, and then I did the next thing. You build a sense of strength around it, and you also learn how to set boundaries. Maybe your secret is the Rumpus letters; you know, you write a collection of them, and see where it takes you.
That could be the way to at least frame it in my mind. Letters to two thousand and four hundred people. So, back to the idea of using pseudonyms versus writing under your own name. In April, you revealed yourself to be Sugar. Now Tiny Beautiful Things is out there with your name on it. When you first started writing that column, did it occur to you that you might at some point reveal who you are? Because you really reveal as much about yourself in Tiny Beautiful Things as you do in Wild, if not more.
Oh yeah, I knew from before I started writing the column that I was going to reveal my identity some day. There was never any question about that. I definitely always wrote it with the consciousness that you would know who I was some day. From the very first column, I wrote it with the consciousness that my name would be on it eventually.
No, I always wrote it as Cheryl in my heart, and I just put the Sugar name on it. And I knew I would step out someday. How does he feel about that? And were you concerned about that at all as you were writing? I asked him before if it was okay to write about it.
What I know about men: Cheryl Strayed
I knew that it was an important story to tell, and I was nervous about telling it, and he was nervous about me telling it. But we also thought that the greater good would be served. That it was a piece of our relationship that so many people could relate to and did. It makes me feel a little sick, but I trust you. Sugar, understands the work I do. That kind of truth telling in writing is not just about going online and blabbing everything that ever happened to you.
And I had a good reason to tell the story of what Brian and I went through with his infidelity before we got married.
The greater good was served, and so I did it. I have been there! He comes off well in the end of both pieces. Promiscuity, hard drugs and eventually divorce followed. Four years later she decided she had to save herself. And would always be gone.
Brian Lindstrom - Wikipedia
For the rest of my life. But eventually I realised that the real dishonour to my mother would be not to thrive. Courtesy of Cheryl Strayed Strayed has tried to make contact. Finally, when I was 39, we had a very nasty exchange and I realised I had to let him go. I learnt so much from having him as my dad — about the world, and about myself.
A mountainous hike through all climes and terrains, it would challenge anyone, let alone a novice with an 80lb rucksack. Some baggage she shed, the rest she learnt to carry. It was 17 years before she wrote Wild. In between, she published Torch, a novel about a family pulled apart by the death of a young mother, and Tiny Beautiful Things, a collection of essays from her online agony column, Dear Sugar. What took her so long? That anti-Hollywood transformation was the hike for me.
Not one big epiphany: And I was completely OK. I was better than OK. Which is not a narrative we hear often, especially with women. The anti-Hollywood aspect of Wild. How did a film about one woman and a backpack — with occasional flashbacks to domestic violence, casual sex and shooting up — ever get produced? Reese was the first person we sent it to. She loved it and called me immediately.
I met my first husband, Mark [Marco Littig], at We married young and should have just stayed boyfriend and girlfriend. In hindsight, even though there is a part of me that regrets taking marriage vows, I think we helped each other get through our childhood. Mark offered me a world of art and culture.
He was with me when my mother died.
We broke up to pursue other relationships. We were together for almost seven years and married for five and a half. I had many casual lovers between my marriages. I learnt that men sometimes get a bad rap about their ability to have emotional intelligence. I always found the men who have that. When Mark and I divorced, we decided to not be adversaries.
He has been very gracious about my book, Wild, and all the times I have written about him or talked about him. When Wild first came out, he wrote me the nicest email to say he was proud of me. He said I was too kind and generous in my portrayal of him. All through my life I have either been in a committed relationship or had fun flings. It wasn't about an emotional connection.
I was more interested in it being sexual in nature. I think women tend to want those things more than men, but I remember the men I hooked up with in between relationships telling me I was more like a guy, sexually. I met my husband Brian [Lindstrom] nine days after I finished the wilderness hike [that inspired Wild], in September I had a yard sale to raise some money and a handsome guy, Tom, came to it.
I flirted with him and we talked.