Pinckney Benedict, A Gleeful Writer George Brosi Pinckney Benedict is a gleeful writer. He digs writing and takes a kind of boyish pride in the work he has created. His writing is deep and complex, yet the delight that goes into it is obvious to most readers. After all, he is a writer who recently claimed he was making comics at about the same rate as “legit stories.” The man who crafts a story whose main characters are Miracle Boy, Lizard, Geronimo, and Eskimo Pie, and who publishes that story in Esquire (1998) is obviously enjoying his craft. Sure, scholars can ruminate and analyze and expostulate about it all they want, but, fundamentally, Pinckney Benedict takes joy in his craft. “It fundamentally makes my day when something I’ve written gets up the nose of some stodgy academic or critic,” says Benedict. “That’s when I know I’m in the ballpark.” Benedict is acutely aware of his good fortune and quite humble about it. He has recently written on Facebook: The impulse to make up stories is a strange, largely worthless, self-aggrandizing, atavistic, and mostly ancillary function (I say this only about my own writing, which is self-evidently trivial—not about the writings of those . . . who are making vital, important literature) that I seem to be wired for, entirely without my volition or desire. That it has led to any kind of job or career or living or life is astonishing to me, and shows the true generosity at the heart of the world. Pinckney Benedict hasn’t had a very rough life. He is married to a beautiful, accomplished, and fun-loving wife, Laura Benedict, a successful writer in her own right, and is the father of two bright and beautiful children. He grew up on a 700-acre dairy farm in beautiful Greenbrier County, West Virginia. He enjoyed a splendid and prestigious education, and he has had great jobs throughout his career. As a boy, Pinckney Benedict’s favorite reading matter was a comic book series called “Weird War.” Even now, he claims he has been most influenced by comic books and science fiction and horror writing and also by television, movies, video games, and computer simulations. He still likes zombies and monsters and ghosts. He claims the main difference between his boyhood days as a reader and the present as a writer is that he now likes to throw in a little nudity and sex. The VS anthology published [End Page 18] by Press 53 this Spring includes a new comic by Benedict that pretty much incorporates all those elements—“Orgo vs The Flatlanders”—along with an over-layer of regional chauvinism. Orgo is the hillbilly king,” Benedict says, “and being a king of any kind seems like it would be fun and also difficult. When I think of Orgo, I think of Vercingetorix, the chieftain of the Averni who organized a revolt against the Romans under Julius Caesar. You know those guys seemed like hillbillies to the dominant culture, but they also kicked some serious ass. At the age of thirteen, Pinckney Benedict enrolled in The Hill School in Pottstown, Pennsylvania, which graduated him in 1982. In high school Benedict was into Greek and Latin and assumed he would grow up to be a classicist. “Reading Latin and Greek was like code breaking, so it kept my mind occupied. And then I discovered that classical literature is full of the things I like: bawdy jokes and sexual escapades and monsters and wars.” Then he attended his father’s alma mater, Princeton. There, as a freshman, he discovered the stories of fellow West Virginian, Breece Pancake, who committed suicide in 1979. “Pancake’s work changed my life. Reading his stories, I knew not only that I wanted to write; I also suddenly knew what I wanted to write.” During his Princeton career, Benedict took several classes with Joyce Carol Oates, and she directed his thesis, seven stories that became the core of his first book. He graduated in 1986 and then went on to the prestigious University of Iowa writing program, which granted him a Master’s of Fine Arts in creative writing in...