Tag: West

For Lola Kirke, writing a memoir wasn’t actually a part of her plan. But the pandemic ignited a surge of “creative energy” that radiated through her. “It was the first time in a decade that I wasn’t acting or on tour,” she tells PEOPLE over Zoom from her home in Nashville. “And I was allowed to discover this other part of myself through writing.”

Initially, she had considered penning a novel but writing fiction wasn’t something that came to her naturally. Instead, Lola decided to write what she knew. With her literary debut Wild West Village (out now from Simon & Schuster) she dissects her chaotic upbringing in an artistic family and the challenging but loving relationships with her siblings.

Throughout Wild West Village, Lola excavates how her unconventional upbringing — for better or worse — shaped her personality. Below, Lola opens up about the stories behind Wild West Village, including stories of sex workers, a cowboy who steals her heart, unknowingly interviewing Joan Didion about the Charles Manson murders as a teenager, that time Courtney Love lived with her family and working with Greta Gerwig.

What made you decide to write this book when you did?

It was the pandemic essentially, and I was out of the habit of working in the way that I had been for so much longer. My life, as I write about it in the book, was really, really shifting in so many ways. And so, while I do wish that it wasn’t the boring, “I wasn’t able to do what I normally do as an artist, so I started writing” answer, I do think that writing does have that incredible ability to help us.

The longer answer [is], I originally conceived [it] being a novel about a band like The Judds and I was going to fragment my entire family into the three Judd women. And then, I realized that I didn’t know how to write a novel.

That honestly sounds like a brilliant concept for a book. Are you still considering writing a novel? 

One of the things that kept on coming up with the book, especially because [of its] sensitive subject matter to a lot of the people that I talk about in the book, was like, “Why didn’t you fictionalize it?” I didn’t know how to write a novel at that time. That’s not an available practice of storytelling that I have. But I also think that a novel would’ve allowed me to really say there’s no boundaries because it’s fiction. You can say whatever you want. But now that I am kind of tired of the character of myself, I am curious about writing other characters, and I do think that there’s just a lot more research that you have to do. It’s kind of like acting. Like, if you’re not playing “girl, 34, lives in Nashville,” you might have to do a little bit more work. So, it’s a different kind of work that I now feel more excited to venture into.

You tell many candid tales about your family throughout the book. How did your family react?

One of the blessings of writing the book was developing a relationship with both my sisters — Domino Kirke and Jemima Kirke — that I talk about really not having within the book itself. Time, maturity and growing up has given me a sisterly relationship. When I stopped trying to be my sisters and I started really embracing myself, my sisters were like, “Yeah, we love you. We like you.” And as the consummate little sister, I just think I always wanted them to do that. So that’s been a real gift of this.

And the rest of your family?

Not everybody has had that reaction. There’s definitely been people that do not like the way that I experienced my life. That’s par for the course. I’ve been a people-pleaser. I’ve wanted people to like me, that’s been my goal. And through writing and discovering what I authentically think and feel, I have been able to value other people’s thoughts and feelings less. That’s not to say I’m not compassionate towards them — I try to be and am — but I found myself, and that meant letting go of a couple of other things along the way.

How has fame — and the varying degrees you’ve each experienced it — impacted your relationship with your sisters?

When I was much younger, [I] had hoisted my wagon to the vindication of silver-screen stardom. Then, seeing my sister kind of achieve that in a seemingly effortless way was really, really difficult. But ultimately, I think that there’s been a lot of beauty, particularly with me and Jemima about sharing a passion. Domino and I share music as well, and it felt much more like an ally than an enemy.

You mention in the book that Courtney Love lived with you for a time growing up. What was that experience like?

As wild as you can imagine. But also, part of that wildness is because it was normal. Courtney’s amazing. I absolutely love her. She was a joy. Besides the flooding and the light fire that she started, it was totally, totally just like having any of the other wonderful people that live with us, live with us.

In the book, you recount the time you interviewed your friend’s Aunt Joan about the Manson murders — only to realize years later she was Joan Didion. What was it like reflecting on that?

It was humbling, to say the least. Now that I’ve had to reread my own writing so much, I’ve been able to kind of locate where my humor is because my whole life, I wanted to be funny. And recently in the past five years, people are like, “You’re funny.” And it’s the kind of perspective of a person that grows up in the way that I did. It’s like [the show] Absolutely Fabulous. What those women think is normal is so not normal that it is funny on screen.

I had spent Easter at Joan’s house before, and she was just a frail old lady. But now, she is one of my favorite and one of the most beloved writers in the entire world and obviously spent much of her life not that. So when I’m a frail old lady, I hope that I have the luxury of a young writer meeting me and just thinking I’m that. Frail old ladies were once adventurous young women a lot of the time.

Very true. Why is this book decidedly “not a memoir”?

It’s obviously a joke. If you straddle kind of celebrity and anonymity in the way that I do, I’ve always described myself as “fame-ish” instead of famous. There is a sense that you can’t just write like a literary memoir the way that maybe Tobias Wolff or Mary Karr would. And if you are more squarely in the celebrity world, your memoir has to be an account of the extraordinary things in your life. I would be flattering myself to say that my writing is more literary in the kind of camp of the writers that I just discussed, but that’s certainly what’s more interesting to me in terms of the memoir.

I’ve read Jane Fonda’s My Life [So Far]. I love A Paper Life by Tatum O’Neal. Those are really fun ones. But I do think that my intention with writing [a book] was not to be like, “Look at all the things that I’ve done.” It was to write in a more literary way. So, I wanted to get out ahead of my own imposter syndrome.

In the book, you recall your sisters always swapping boyfriends over the years. How did that impact all of your relationships?

There was a strong emphasis on beauty in our home, which I believe was a result of my mother wanting us to thrive in the world. She’s not the only mother or woman of her generation who has created that value system. But I think that one of the downsides of placing such an emphasis on beauty in a family is it breeds a sense of competition. That feeling of competition between myself and my sisters ultimately just created a lack of safety and security, which is why having done a lot of work and my sisters also having done a lot of work now, I do think we’re able to actually love each other without fearing one another in quite the same way that we did as kids.

How did your want or need to fit in with American culture help you connect with country music?

Well, I don’t think there’s anything more American than country music. It’s maybe a little on the nose, but one of the things I don’t necessarily name in the book is that I think country also is synonymous with freedom, whether it’s the capital “F” freedom, that “freedom isn’t free” idea or this idea of like “I’m going out into the country, into the wild and the Wild West.” There’s a part of me that has craved freedom, whether it’s freedom from my own ego or freedom from the intense freedom that I think the privilege I grew up in smothers you in, almost. So beyond just the America that country sings about, it’s the freedom within the idea of America that I was really drawn to, if that makes sense.

Why was it important for you to conclude the book with your Grand Ole Opry performance?

I couldn’t believe, in a way, that performance and experience coincided with when I was writing the end of my book. The ending for the book actually was the chapter before. [Originally], it was like, I live in Nashville now [and] I realize it’s okay to like be me. And then I had my Grand Ole Opry debut, and I felt like I’d been run over by a truck. But after, my whole family descended upon Nashville and then left. And through writing this book, I really learned how much writing helps me not only understand the world around me, but myself, and how healing writing could be. So I was like, “What do I do with this experience?” And I wrote about it. This incredible circumstance [at the Opry] really got to articulate so much about what my life has become and where my life has been. That just felt like a really better ending.

What was your experience like working with Greta Gerwig on Mistress America?

Oh, it was fantastic. Greta is incredible, and it doesn’t surprise me at all that she absolutely has become one of the most sought-after and powerful directors. I certainly have continued to use some of her mannerisms. I mean, she’s just such an inspiration. And now that I’m 34, I can’t believe that she was 29 when she wrote that. I’m like, “Oh, f—, she was so driven and so talented even then.”

Have you discussed working together again?

We were supposed to do an ill-fated production of The Three Sisters in 2020 that then got postponed for like two years, and that ultimately [was] canceled. So, not since then. But I would love to.

How did working on Three Women reinvigorate your acting career, your spirit, or your love of acting?

I love Lisa Taddeo, and it was an honor to get to be part of bringing that book to life. Not many people I know saw [my performance in it], and I didn’t see it either because I have felt pretty insecure about my body. Honestly [I] haven’t seen the last four things that I’ve done because of the body dysmorphia that I developed. But I’m getting through that. A couple of people that I really care about have said like, “Your spirit’s there.” And I’m so happy because that’s the goal, and I’m glad that that came through.

I saw Jenny Lewis mentioned in the acknowledgments of the book. What’s your relationship like with her?

Oh my God. So, Jenny is kind of a psychic, among many other gifts that she has. And very early on in the pandemic, she texted me out of the blue when I was living in the two-room house with The Cowboy [my boyfriend] and was like, “Look, if you ever need a place to go, I have this house in Nashville and I’ll give you the code and you can go in and be there.” And so I started doing that every day for six months, and I would go, sit in her house and I would write. We weren’t that close at this time. Our friendship really, really blossomed after that. I said to her, “If I ever write a book, I will thank you in the acknowledgments because it will have started being written at your kitchen table.” And so [it’s] quite incredible to get to finish the book and get to make good on that promise.

Have you and Jenny ever collaborated on music together?

She very generously once opened one of my shows here in Nashville, but she’s always been a huge support, a mentor to me and dear friend. I love Jenny.

You just announced you have a new album on the way. What can you tell me about it?

Daniel Tashian produced it who did the last three Kacey Musgraves records, and I absolutely love him so much. It’s called Trailblazer. It comes out March 21, and I’m going on tour, which will all be announced. It’s a little less like down-the-middle country, but it’s definitely pretty country.

Tell me about the album’s lead single “Hungover Thinkin’.”

I wrote it with Liz Rose and Caitlin Rose, who’s her daughter. Liz wrote like the first couple of Taylor Swift’s songs, and both of them are two of my favorite people and writers, so I’m really excited that that’s my first single.

Wild West Village is available now, wherever books are sold.