18-10-15

Nic Pizzolatto

 

De Amerikaanse schrijver Nic Pizzolatto werd geboren op 18 oktober 1975 in New Orleans, Louisiana. Pizzolatto komt uit een arm, katholiek en Italiaans arbeidersgezin. Op de leeftijd van vijf jaar, verhuisde het gezin naar Lake Charles in het westen van Louisiana, waar hij in 1993 zijn middelbare schooldiploma behaalde aan deSt. Louis Catholic High School . Met de steun van een beurs was hij in staat te studeren aan de Louisiana State University en hij behaalde het Bachelor of Arts (BA) in Engels en filosofie. Daarna verhuisde hij naar Austin, Texas, waar hij werkte in verschillende beroepen. Hij studeerde aan de Universiteit van Arkansas, waar hij afstudeerde met een Master of Fine Arts (MFA) in het jaar 2005. Pizzolattos eerste publicaties waren twee korte verhalen die werden gepubliceerd in het tijdschrift Atlantic Monthly. Hij publiceerde in 2006 en 2009 nog meer korte verhalen en doceerde tot 2010 aan de Universiteit van North Carolina in Chapel Hill, de Universiteit van Chicago en de DePauw University in Greencastle (Indiana) de vakken fiction en letterkunde. 2010. Na de publicatie van zijn roman “Galveston” verhuisde hij met zijn vrouw en dochter naar Ojai in Californië, waar hij zich sindsdien alleen maar aan het schrijven wijdt. Als scenarioschrijver werd Pizzolatto in 2011 bekend door de crimeserie voor televisie “The Killing”, in 2014 gevolgd door de tv-scenario's voor “True Detective”, waarbij hij ook als co-producer betrokken was. Het tweede seizoen van “True Detective” kwam met nieuwe spelers en nieuwe peronages in juni 2015 bij HBO op het scherm.

Uit: Galveston

“A doctor took pictures of my lungs. They were full of snow flurries.
When I walked out the office all the people in the waiting room looked grateful they weren't me. Certain things you can see in a person's face.
I'd felt something was wrong because days before I had chased a guy up two flights of stairs and I'd had trouble breathing, like there was a barbell on my chest. I'd been drinking pretty hard for a couple weeks, but I knew it was more than that. I'd gotten so angry about the sudden pain that I broke the man's hand. He spat teeth and complained to Stan that he thought it was excessive.
But that's why they've always given me work. Because I'm excessive.
I told Stan about the chest pains and he sent me to a doctor who was into him for forty large.
Outside the doctor's office now I took the cigarettes from my jacket and started to crush the pack in my hands, but I decided this was no time to quit. I lit one up there on the sidewalk but it didn't taste good and the smoke made me think of cotton fibers weaving through my chest. Buses and cars cruised slow and daylight flashed off their glass and chrome. Behind my sunglasses it was kind of like I was at the bottom of the sea and the vehicles were fish. I imagined a much darker, cooler place, and the fish became shadows.
A horn jolted me awake. I'd started to step off the curb. I flagged down a taxi.
I was thinking about Loraine, a girl I'd once dated, and how one night I'd stayed up talking with her till dawn on a beach in Galveston, from a spot where we could watch the plump white exhaust from oil refineries unroll in the distance like a road into the sun. That would have been ten, eleven years ago. She was always too young for me, I guess.
Even before the X-rays I was already foul with anger because the woman I had thought of as my girlfriend, Carmen, had started sleeping with my boss, Stan Ptitko. I was on my way to meet him at his bar. Not much point today. But you don't stop being who you are just because there's a blizzard of soap chips in your chest.
There's no getting out alive, but you hope to avoid a deadline. I wasn't going to tell Stan or Angelo or Lou about my lungs. I didn't want them hanging out at the bar, talking about me when I wasn't there. Laughing.”

 

 
Nic Pizzolatto (New Orleans, 18 oktober 1975)

18:30 Gepost door Romenu in Literatuur | Permalink | Commentaren (0) | Tags: nic pizzolatto, romenu |  Facebook |

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