Dannye Romine

Five years ago, novelist Wiley Cash sent 25,000 words of what would become his third novel, “The Last Ballad,” to his editor at William Morrow. On the basis of those words, the editor bought the book. But in an early morning telephone interview, Cash tells me not one of those words appears in the finished version.

I like to think of that moment a writer is struck with the idea of turning a real-life event into a fictional work. Intimidation? Exhilaration? One emotion after the other? Everything at once?Any writer would be comforted knowing there’s a framework of facts on which to build. Yet think of the thousand decisions still ahead. Invent characters? Stick with the facts?

Five years ago, novelist Wiley Cash sent 25,000 words of what would become his third novel, “The Last Ballad,” to his editor at William Morrow. On the basis of those words, the editor bought the book. But in an early morning telephone interview, Cash tells me not one of those words appears in the finished version. Reimagining the late ’20s, and what led to a woman’s death in a mill strike, where he grew up, author Wiley Cash says: “We’re talking about a culture where not everyone could read.