Singer/Songwriter Mary Gauthier Talks New Book ‘Saved By A Song,’ Advice From Guy Clark & More (INTERVIEW)

Mary Gauthier is an inspiration. Having built careers in two of the most challenging professions to break into: a working songwriter and now a published author, Mary’s tale is epic. Forged in real, hilarious, fucked up, and perfectly vulnerable experiences, Gauthier’s ability to draw parallels and weave memories is beyond impressive. She came into songwriting in her late 30’s, through open mics and writers’ circles, through sheer destiny one might gather. Now the Grammy-nominated songwriter has gifted us her story in a concise and fluidly penned expression.

Glide was honored to catch up with Mary Gauthier about Saved By A Song, sobriety, family, getting advice from Guy Clark, and she even offers a bit of songwriting advice.

When did you start writing Saved By A Song?

It’s been such a long journey and been through so many manifestations. It’s been years and years, maybe five, six years ago.

Your recall of these experiences is unreal. How did you get back into all these memories in such detail? 

Yeah… it’s weird isn’t it? It’s funny… it comes one little image at a time. For example; the scene where I’m standing in the hallway and waiting on my brand new friend to get the dope. I remember the trash overflowing, then I remembered, oh yeah! Spencer’s Gifts and black lights and there was tinfoil on the windows. That’s how Elvis did it, tinfoil on the windows is better than black curtains, no light gets in. It came back to me, one thing led to another, led to another, and rebuilt the scene.

That’s really cool.

I didn’t expect that, having never written this way before. It’s a reconstruction that happens one imagine at a time.

That’s really inspiring. Memory is such a strange, mysterious thing. I feel like I don’t remember so many things. 

It’s all weirdly there. It’s kind of hanging out, like cicadas or something, just buried down in there. It’s not done, it’s just not conscious. It’s weird.

How does it feel to open yourself up like this in such depth? Songs can be so left up to interpretation, but to tell your story in a novel, in such detail,  how does that feel?

So far so good. I know that you can’t write a good book without being vulnerable. So far people are responding well. Everyone has their struggles, everyone has things that they have gone through. My big concern was my family. They haven’t read the book yet so check back in after I get through it. (both laugh) I expect my mother will probably be upset, I expect my sister to push back a  little, and I don’t know what to expect from my brother. They are scared to death of it. They know from my songs that I am likely to tell stories they probably don’t want me to tell. Hopefully, they’ll still love me. I didn’t focus on any of their dysfunction, I really just focused on my own. Hopefully, they will forgive me for my humanity. I didn’t blame them. I tried not to tell their story. That is where the boundary is: to tell my story not theirs.

My dad is 20+ years sober and a lot of your story really resonated with me. Growing up going to meetings with my dad and witnessing the vulnerability in him sharing his story. He always says, getting to share his story and experience with others is the greatest gift. Does that resonate with you? 

Absolutely. That sense that if I tell my story and it helps one other person with their pain, it’s worth it. You don’t want to just go through all this shit and have that be the end of the story. You hope to go through it, learn something, and flip the story into something that’s useful to other people, and maybe even gain some redemptive qualities because of the ability to get sober, and to change your own ending. The ending to every addict and alcoholics story should be jails, institutions, and death. We’ve defeated that somehow one a day at a time. We’re living a different ending. To me, that is a big deal and a reason for hope. It’s a reason to tell the story.

You started writing songs in your mid-thirties. That is so inspiring. I’d love to hear about your experience and finding your songwriting voice in your thirties.

I came to Nashville at 40 years old, openly gay in 2001. The entire human race would have said, ‘Mary, that’s a bad idea.’ I had to work with what I had. I didn’t even know that I was a songwriter when I got sober. I had no idea that I was going to be a songwriter until I had some weird, crazy emotions hearing Indigo Girls. The best I could come up with was that this was the pain of an unlived life. It was eating away at me and when I heard the sound of those two voices – and saw what to me was obviously two gay women –  they were doing something new. They blazed a trail for so many people. Their success said to me, ‘if your excuse is that your too gay to make it, well you can erase that.’

We all have our excuses. I wasn’t fully aware of why this experience was so emotional for me. I hadn’t even written a song yet. I wasn’t awake enough to know that it was even in me. Mostly it just felt like a deep, deep pain. I was full of a life unlived.

After I got arrested and got sober I was somehow able to be brought to that open mic. I had to cimb so many mountains of self-loathing. We’re all sold this bill of goods that in the music business you need to be young, gorgeous, white shining teeth and have the voice of an angel, and then maybe you have a shot at making it. That’s not songwriting, that’s something else. I really started to make sense of the calling when I went to the open mics and saw people who kind of looked like me, who sang okay, who played okay, we were all just working on getting good songs. Lori McKenna was there for god’s sake. She had no idea either that she was going to end up with a closet full of Grammys and international recognition. We were all in it together.

 

When you came to Nashville did you have an idea of how to infuse yourself into the scene?

I had a booking agent in Nashville and he had put me out on tour with Guy Clark.  I wanted to go to Austin so I asked Guy why he had left Austin. At the time Nashville was the buckle of the bible belt. I said, “Guy, why are you in Nashville? He told me, if you ever want to get your songs cut by somebody else you gotta be in Nashville. I was really scared of homophobia here (in Nashville).

I played wherever they would have me, wherever I could play I would play. That didn’t add up to much. What ended up happening was I had a representative at ASCAP, Ralph Murphy, he’s gone now, god bless his soul. I said, “Ralphy, can you hook me up with some publishers? I’d like to play songs for publishers.”

I gave him a list of what I thought might work. I ended up playing songs for Melanie Howard. That ended up culminating in a relationship. Melanie played my songs for Luke Lewis who ran Universal and that ended up getting me a record deal on Lost Highway. I think by mixing around in Nashville and finding the right match up, there can be a person in this town that can really change your life.

What a journey that “I Drink” has been on.. 

I know, I still can’t believe it.

Recalling that story. Is that a story you have been telling for years? 

I don’t really tell that story. I’ll just say I was arrested for drunk driving on July 13, 1990. That’s the story I tell when I speak in meetings. But I don’t go into the, laying on the floor, leaving my body, my girlfriend coming to pick me up with her new girlfriend. That shit is movie-ready. Actually, it’s funny in retrospect. Now that I’ve written the details of it I am really in touch with the gratitude that I survived this shit. I was rudderless.

Do you have advice for songwriters that are feeling stuck creatively? 

You know, I’m a little stuck myself. When I work with songwriters I say: just write your truth. If your truth is that you’re stuck and you feel empty and you don’t know how to articulate all that emptiness? Write about emptiness. My guidance is always to go to the truth. There is no need to make up fantastic shit, the truth is always more interesting.

What’s in your tape deck? 

That’s a good question. I seem to be listening to music fast. I’m reading like crazy but I haven’t been listening to music lately and I don’t know why. Apparently, I am in the word world right now. I guess being an author has fascinated me with how people do this job. It is so much work. Can you imagine a song taking six years to write? Then you put it in the world and people may or may not like it. I am reading a lot of songwriters booked. I’ve got the Christy Moore book on my table, and a Brandi Carlile book which I am really enjoying. Brandi is a fucking force. It’s not just her voice but her spirit. There is only one Brandi Carlile.

When you get back into music there is an artist I think you would really dig, S.G. Goodman. She’s down in Kentucky. A true powerhouse. If you have the chance, check her out. 

I will. Gonna be flying to New Orleans tonight, I’ll put her on tonight so I don’t have to listen to people’s bullshit at the airport. (Tommy laughs) – I’ll check out S.G. and let you know.

So good talking to you. I really appreciate you taking the time. Your story is so inspiring. 

Thanks for spending the time and helping me get the word out there. Pleasure talking to you.

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