SOVER SCENE: Woman on a mission The seasoned verve of author Elayne Clift

By ANNE LAWRENCE GUYON

It was called “Love Letters To Vermont” and it was the first book I’d ever opened in the sole Vermont bookstore I’d ever browsed through during the exploratory trip that my family and I made here years ago when we were considering moving to New England.

Insightful, bold, graceful and captivating, author Elayne Clift had put into sharp focus the place I’d heard so much about and that I have since come to cherish. From seasons to cemeteries, people to pastimes, her descriptions of life in Vermont — written from the perspective of a fellow urban refugee — were enticing, endearing and humorously blunt.

Also on the shelf was a book of Clift’s poems, “Other People, Other Lands.” Upon opening it, my eyes instantly fell upon a quintessentially northeast topic.

The good news is: It’s mud season.

The copious sooted snow

banked against the side of the road for months now; will soon melt into the warming earth.

The poem went on to exquisitely elucidate the budding of spring and then when I saw that the next stanza opened with “The bad news is: It’s mud season,” that clinched it — Vermont was for me. That singular amalgam of wry wit, staunch pragmatism and abiding tenderness was more than charming — it felt like home. And I already had a favorite local writer.

As serendipity would have it and in the spirit of full disclosure, Elayne Clift and I are now in a book group together and have become good friends. Her robust joie de vivre, rich intellect and glorious command of the English language never fail to inspire me, as a writer and a woman. Clift is not only a prolific author, she is also a forward-thinking feminist who constantly utilizes the immense wisdom she gained while on front lines of the first wave in order to champion the smartest choices for girls and women now. She is an eclectic, indefatigable powerhouse with an expansive, compassionate and refreshingly feisty perspective, who — per the unspoken Law of Tenacity in Vermont — wears many professional hats and has accomplished much.

In no particular order, she has degrees in English, psychology and health communications; taught at numerous distinguished academic institutions, including Yale, George Washington University and Emerson College; traveled the globe, lived on three continents and written about all of it; produced more than a dozen books of short stories, memoirs, poetry and nonfiction; been a guest expert for various media outlets, such as MacNeil/Lehrer and NPR; and contributed reportorial and opinion pieces to a long roster of publications, from The Washington Post to The Christian Science Monitor. She has also been happily married for 36 years and has two adult children.

When we sat down to talk about her work, my first quest was to find out what motivates her to accomplish so very much — and where I can get some of that mojo.

“The two philosophies that have guided me,” she reflected, “are ‘Change is the only reality’ and ‘To thine own self be true.’” Greek philosopher Heraclites and trusty W. S. would surely be proud to note that she has evinced their wisdom many times over.

On the topic of change, well, it has to be said, she wrote the book. Raised in New Jersey by Russian Jewish immigrants, Clift has endured great hardship and enjoyed hard-earned success, from caring for her gravely ill mother throughout her childhood and then working as a medical secretary to becoming program director at the National Women’s Health Network in Washington, D.C., being appointed to the FDA Consumer Consortium, testifying before Congress and serving as a Vermont humanities scholar.

Throughout all of it, one aspect of Clift’s life hasn’t changed and that’s writing, which became a steady drive early on and has guided her unquenchable thirst for new, meaningful experiences ever since.

“I’ve always written,” she attests. “When I was about 7, I remember going to a five-and-dime store in Woodbury, New Jersey, and telling the clerk ‘I want the biggest tablet you have … because I’m going to write a book.’”

Gloria Steinem once said “Writing is the only thing that, when I do it, I don’t feel I should be doing something else.” Clift concurs.

“I used to love term papers, to deconstruct how to write a paper, that’s how seriously writing appealed to me. The first thing I ever submitted was a poem to the Saturday Evening Post when I was 13. It got rejected.” With a robust chuckle, she adds, “But I still think it’s a good poem.”

Elayne didn’t let the rejection stop her and has an abundance of tomes to prove it, with fascinating titles such as “Telling It Like It Is: Reflections of a Not So Radical Feminist,” “To New Jersey, With Love and Apologies,” “Women, Philanthropy and Social Change: Visions For a Just Society,” “The Limits of Love” and “Demons Dancing In My Head.” They all reveal the breadth and depth of a remarkably varied life that is as diverse as ever these days.

Her latest book, “Achan: A Year of Teaching in Thailand,” describes in buoyant, nuanced and candid detail her experience living in Chiang Mai in the north while teaching courses on creative writing, oral presentation and gender issues at Payap University. Clift is clearly one of those travelers who squeezes all she can out of every adventure and who chronicles them with minute and broad strokes to convey the full flavor of a place.

“Achan” — which means teacher in Thai — is a resonant, satiating and intimate homage to the complexities and beauty of Thai culture, from her small flat with its outdoor kitchen and the constant tapestry of sounds wafting in from a bustling neighborhood to excursions through the lush, vibrant countryside outside Chiang Mai, all of which she diligently recorded throughout her stay.

“As we drive on, we see ‘the real Thailand.’ The hills are planted with corn and other crops, poinsettias grow wild, trees with yellow and red blossoms dot the winding road, villagers trudge up the hills in colorful tribal dress. Lanna-style houses built of teak wobble on their stilts and chickens, goats, and dogs congregate beneath them. Children with shiny black hair and ready smiles gaze curiously at the three strange women in the black car.”

In discussing Thailand, Clift is as impassioned about the philosophy as the inhabitants and landscape. “I was always attracted to the whole notion of impermanence and I really embraced that in Thailand,” she explains. “It’s like a deep mediation and really living in the moment and being able to let go, because nothing is permanent. I knew it wasn’t going to last forever, so I lived for the day, not in an excited, conscious way, but I just lived.”

I asked if she was able to bring those sensibilities back to Vermont with her. “To a certain extent, it has stuck with me, but I had a difficult adjustment because when you have an experience like that, living in a different culture, it’s really hard to come back. Same thing happened when I returned from working in England. I couldn’t adjust at first.”

That tough reentry hasn’t stopped Clift from revisiting what has become a sacred place where she forged precious friendships and a deep sense of belonging. She leaves for Thailand in a few weeks, where she will again become “Achan.”

Having read galleys of her first full novel, “Hester’s Daughters,” which is under review by publishers, I’m an even more avid fan of the engaging lucidity with which all her edifying observations are infused, whether in the form of creative nonfiction, sublime poetry, astute commentaries or vividly crafted fiction.

Clift is a woman with a great deal to say and, as far back as she can remember, she’s been opinionated and vocal. “In junior high, we had to take home ec and sewing and I hated sewing and couldn’t do it, so I got sent to the principal,” she laughs. “I’m outspoken, decidedly feminist and I refuse to be silenced or marginalized or have other women silenced or marginalized. I truly have always had a social justice thing. I have always been a crusader.”

Online: www.elayneclift.com

Annie: annieguyoncommunications.com

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