Don't Tell Anybody the Secrets I Told You: A Memoir

by Lucinda Williams

There are all these stereotypes associated with being southern, which is a whole problem in and of itself. I think that’s why my dad instilled in me, “We are southerners, and we have to fight the people who think that all southerners are racist, all southerners are hicks, all southerners are stupid.” That’s how I was raised. That’s my South.

most important lesson he ever taught me, to be able to accept and move in both the world you were born into and the world you found on your own.

I believe that if you’re seriously to look into things—and if you’re truly able to see—you’re able to be wise and soulful. You don’t have to have a formal education to be good at whatever it is you do.

People think musicians are wild and crazy and drunk and fucking each other all the time. Musicians are nothing like writers, not even close, from what I’ve seen.

I was never able to repeat it, not even with all the musicians I knew. I missed the literary world, the heady talks, the cocktails, the humor, the warmth, the savvy qualities, and the beauty.

There’s part of me that wants to stay up all night and talk about philosophy and art and there’s another part of me that wants to be dragged into the bedroom. Bruce was another one of these guys who could do both.

Dennis Covington published a book on that topic in 1995 called Salvation on Sand Mountain. And

Lee Smith wrote a novel about the same subject, Saving Grace,

was always on the lookout for the next genius poet. That’s what I wanted, or what I thought I wanted. So I hung on.

My family wasn’t allowed to talk about problems out loud. Everything was held inside. I was never able to tell anybody that I was upset or pissed off. Looking back, I wonder if it would have been better if you could yell and scream and say, “Fuck you!” and slam the door and leave. Then the next day it’s all over with, and you start again. My

God is out there somewhere. Don’t worry. You’ll find out where soon enough.