Kelley, Beverly Merrill

PERSONAL: Married Jonathan Sharkey (a musician and city council member); children: Brendan, Trevor. Ethnicity: "Caucasian." Education: San Diego State University, B.A., M.A.; University of California, Los Angeles, Ph.D.

ADDRESSES: Office—Department of Communication, California Lutheran University, 60 W. Olsen Rd., Thousand Oaks, CA 91360. E-mail—kelley@clunet.edu.

CAREER: California Lutheran University, Thousand Oaks, professor of communication, 1977–, founder of communications department, 1980, department chair and director of forensics, 1977–84. KCLU-FM Radio, host of the program Local Talk with Beverly Kelley, 1994–99; Channel 21 Television, host of An Hour with …, 1997–98. Television for the Conejo, president, 1996–98.

WRITINGS:

(Editor and contributor) Reelpolitik: Political Ideologies in '30s and '40s Films, foreword by Steve Allen, Praeger (Westport, CT), 1998.

Reelpolitik II: Political Ideologies in '50s and '60s Films, Rowman & Littlefield (Lanham, MD), 2004.

Reelpolitik III: Political Ideologies in '70s and '80s Films, Rowman & Littlefield (Lanham, MD), 2007.

Opinion columnist and book reviewer for Ventura County Star. Contributor to other periodicals, including Los Angeles Times. Creator of a personal blog, Reelpolitik.

SIDELIGHTS: Beverly Merrill Kelley told CA: "Even though teachers from middle school to college remarked about my flair for writing, I didn't consider pursuing a literary career until I was well past forty. In adolescence, I gratified myself with various angst-ridden musings that never amounted to much. In graduate school, I learned how to write/speak 'academese' par excellence, but the practice provided no genuine satisfaction. As a communication professor, I penned the requisite journal articles in accordance with the 'publish or perish' dictum enforced at my university, but a yearning to reach an audience more sizeable than a handful of scholars in hot pursuit of either fodder or footnotes for their own labors continued to gnaw away at my soul.

"What I had come to know about myself, if I were to believe my evaluations, was that I had become a good teacher. I wondered if the attributes that nurtured excellence as an educator might likewise pay off in the literary world. When I took personal stock, I discovered that I possessed an insatiable curiosity about the world, a passion for words, the ability to concentrate for long periods of time, the desire not only to distill insights and lessons from life experiences but to pass them along to others, the drive to connect the dots among seemingly unrelated subjects, and an incurable case of perfectionism that might prove invaluable to the rewriting process. Most of all, university teaching provided me with a steady paycheck so I could afford to indulge myself in semi-professional scribblings.

"In 1996 I finally decided to take the plunge by agreeing to dash off monthly book reviews for the local paper. However, as my frustrated editor kept pointing out, my best-seller analyses began to look increasingly like opinion page pieces. She was right. In 1997 I was invited to write a column for the Ventura County Star, and the Los Angeles Times also asked me to comment monthly on Ventura County politics, a position I held until 2000. It was my radio and television shows, however, in which I interviewed a number of literary lights (Ray Bradbury, Robert Bly, Peter J. Gomes, William Knoke, and others), that firmed up my resolve to attempt a magnum opus of my own.

"The inspiration for the first 'Reelpolitik' book arose during a year-long centennial celebration of American film at California Lutheran University, I was asked to prepare a lecture and lead a discussion on the film Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Student reaction to the compulsory viewing of color-challenged (black and white) classics could only be characterized, in the most polite language available, as considerably 'resistant.' 'But these thirties movies are really old,' undergraduates would sputter.

"Once the students grasped that, not only were films made prior to 1990, but these films could also provide an engaging documentation of social, political, and economic history, then they opened their hearts and minds to the experience. Eventually word-of-mouth boosted enrollment in the 'politics in cinema' class. In fact, colleagues began to compete against one another in offering cinematic courses geared toward their respective disciplines, replicating a trend that was already occurring nationwide.

"Whenever I interviewed a best-selling author on television or radio, I couldn't help myself; inadvertently I peppered him or her with probes about the writing process. Interestingly, most of these highly successful scribes were clearly uncomfortable with such queries. In fact, many would have preferred discussing the most intimate details of their sex lives (and some did!) rather than honestly responding to my questions. Reactions to the questions varied from an abrupt change of subject to vague generalizations: I can't help myself. I simply have to write. If I don't understand how I wrote the last book, how can I ever expect to do it again?

"A Joseph Heller quotation affixed to my computer reads: 'Every writer I know has trouble writing.' Heller, I am told, only knows really good writers. I, however, can recall when I wasn't even good enough to comprehend how bad I actually was. In addition, whenever I allowed myself to fantasize about writing a 350-page volume, I could feel myself becoming incapacitated by what I am now calling 'pre-writer's block.' I could scarcely point the finger of blame at writer's block since I hadn't even been published yet.

"After I achieved a modicum of discipline—being forced to cough up an opinion piece every other week really helped—I realized that a book could be viewed as merely the equivalent of 100 columns, more or less. Actually my major writing difficulty isn't in producing too few words, but too many. I usually have to whittle away at least half—much like a deranged sculptor who hacks away at a piece of marble until what remains resembles a salable statue.

"I wish I could report a number of charming idiosyncrasies, but not only do I sit at the computer fully clothed, I don't employ a quill pen to record my thoughts, the contents of a Waterford whiskey tumbler to loosen my inhibitions, or the inspiration of a handsome muse. I just write.

"When the work is going well, six to eight hours can elapse before hunger, thirst, or other urges intervene. When things are not going well, my husband doesn't even have to ask. He can usually deduce the answer by the empty cookie box on the table or the chocolate smear on my chin. I am pleased to report that, these days, Oreos are no longer an endangered species at our house. As far as my literary career is concerned, I count no regrets—only learning experiences."