As much as Park Slope writer John Cummings loves his adopted home, a part of him will always reside in Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia, the beautiful and historic Blue Ridge town in the Blue Ridge Mountains where he grew up.
For seven years, Cummings tried to capture his experience growing up in the rural town made famous by abolitionist John Brown’s massacre on its armory, which accelerated tensions between north and south before the Civil War.
First, he tried a factual memoir catered to adult readers. After a disappointing draft, he decided to fictionalize it “in order to save it,” he said.
“Life is often boring and doesn’t make a good story,” continued Cummings, who had been successful as a short story writer but wanted to try into a longer form.
The result of this tweak is his newly released debut novel, The Night I Freed John Brown, a semi-autobiographical coming-of-age tale set amidst the historical backdrop of Harper’s Ferry.
Just as the controversial legacy of Brown haunts the United States – some view him as a hero, some as a precursor to modern-day terrorists – it also haunts Cummings’ semi-autobiographical book.
Josh Connors, the book’s 13-year-old protagonist, lives across the street from the John Brown Wax Museum (which really does exist), from which a wax figure of Brown glowers at him through a picture window.
With Brown’s righteous anger in one eye, Connors also has to contend with his father’s more arbitrary anger on the other.
A stern and restrictive man, Josh’s father is a man of rules: going to the Brown Museum or partaking in any of the town’s hokey Brown commercialization is off-limits. So are a lot of other things, like associating with the eccentric new neighbors next door.
Josh’s life is one of confinement: In short, he is enslaved, torn between the two poles of his father’s strictness and Brown’s homicidal indignation.
His negotiation of the two is the central conflict of the story. Along the way, the reader is treated to vivid character portrayals, loving descriptions of the mountainous West Virginia countryside, and no small amount of mystery and adventure.
Under the prodding of questioning, the naturally modest Cummings allowed that his book is “very rich and inspiring. It’s a very exciting mix of elements I think are stimulating for young minds.”
He is most proud of the insight and honesty with which he delves into the inner thoughts of his protagonist.
“Thirteen can be a horrendous age – you’re navigating the transition from childhood to adulthood. And in the case of this kid, he doesn’t have a supportive father,” he said.
“But he’s a very intelligent, imaginative, and thoughtful kid. That’s what I’m most proud of him about.”
Cummings’ navigation of his own childhood led him eventually to Brooklyn, which he believes is the ideal environment for a writer.
“I have a beautiful 11-window apartment on a Park Slope side-street. The sunlight, trees and birds are very good for the serotonin level,” he said.
“And I love Prospect Park. I can go into those trees and see a big canopy of maples. I can’t tell where I am – I could be in West Virginia. It’s amazing to be transported like that.”
Before coming to Park Slope two and a half years ago, Cummings and his wife lived on Manhattan’s Upper East side for seven years.
“Manhattan I found very noisy,” he remembered.
“For two years, when I was trying to write this book, there was always this pounding construction going on. My doorman knew I was a writer – he would always ask me: ‘How do you do any work up there?’”
Despite the obstacles presented by Manhattan’s ever-present noise pollution, Cummings managed to carve out an impressive resume.
He has published short stories in more than seventy-five literary journals over the past fifteen years including North American Review, The Kenyon Review, and The Iowa Review.
A two-time Pushcart Prize nominee, his short story “The Scratchboard Project” received an honorable mention in “The Best American Short Stories, 2007.”
Wherever a writer plies his trade, the key to success is hard work, Cummings believes. He can take or leave the Park Slope literary scene, embodied by the Tea Lounge on 7th Avenue.
