Now that my memoir is in the editing stage I've returned to a project that's been coalescing for awhile, a crime novel about Detroit that on one level just tells a good story and on another chronicles the spirit of the city's residents. This feels like a return. Nothing inspires me like Detroit. Back in the mid-'90s I began my writing career here, working as an intern at the alternative news-weekly, the Metro Times, when it was edited by Desiree Cooper. Over the years I've been itching to do something about the place and now, with this idea for a novel, I think I've figured out the way to do it.
I took these pictures as I drove around downtown. Some are from east Detroit, some from the west side. The city feels unlike any place I've been. "Ghost town" doesn't quite fit. In fitting with the latest scheme to turn the city centre into one grand urban farm, Detroit's downtown feels more rural than urban. Many intersections feature traffic lights gone dark, presumably to save on their operating costs, and because the decreased traffic means a traffic light is unnecessary. Other times, the traffic lights just flash yellow or red. And as I was driving around, the radio stations were discussing a statistic--the school board here has closed 100 schools since 2000, and just released plans to close another 45 in the next few years.
By posting these pictures, I'm not beating up on Detroit. We get it, the city's got problems. I'm not saying, look at all these empty houses, isn't that messed up? My intent is a little more complex. I think these homes have a beauty to them. They are empty, perhaps, but they are still standing. They have an energy, and a pride. They are defiant in spite of their failed occupancy, just like the city where they stand.
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