Quintessential Cork

Cork Millner 1931-2013

I met Cork Millner in his writing class over 30 years ago, but our first encounter might just as well have been at a wine tasting, on a tennis court, or at a polo match. This was a man who lived everyman’s dream of retiring early and having a long second career living his many passions and writing about them all.

My hope back then was to make a career of writing and selling magazine articles, and lo and behold, there was an adult education course taught by Cork on just that. The classroom was packed. I sat in the back where I wouldn’t have to do anything but listen.

Cork looked as if he’d just come from a fashion shoot for GQ. And he could skewer us all with his repartee and sophistication.

I was fresh off the farm and was lucky to make it to class in something spiffier than overalls. I wasn’t sure this class was a good fit for me, but I figured if I stayed, I’d learn something.

Every week Cork brought examples of magazine articles he’d written and sold -- celebrity interviews, reviews of wineries, tales of being on TV game shows, to name a few. The official bio on his website states that he wrote and sold over 400 articles during his lifetime, but I think that number must be modest, because he showed us at least that many that first term.

Cork was a fine teacher, and I learned much about freelancing. Writing is tough work. Marketing is tougher. And if you don’t have a repertoire of passions and creative ideas, you have nothing to write about.

When the term was over, after the final class, I put away my typewriter (because that’s just how long ago it was) and decided to get a real job where I was paid money for doing something odious. And meanwhile all the things I’d learned in Cork’s writing class brewed in my mind.

Over the months of his teaching, I’d heard much about the life and times of Cork Millner. He’d been a navy aircraft carrier pilot. I could only imagine the nerve it took to take off and land on a vessel even once, much less 850 times.

As I toiled away at my day job, I tried to imagine something equivalent in my short, boring life. Well, once on a dare from a fellow 7-year-old, I hopped on the back of a pig and rode it for two or three feet before it dumped me into the mud. Funny, yes, but that stunt required more stupidity than nerves of steel.

No, I was convinced I had nothing at all to write about, and I should leave the writing of clever magazine articles to the likes of Cork Millner. He had the lifestyle and the moxie to make a freelance career work.

It turns out the desire to write doesn’t just go away. It took me 10 years to work myself back toward being a writer. To learn more about the craft, I signed up for the Santa Barbara Writers Conference. I was still nervous and shy, but I was happy to see Cork Millner’s familiar face. He was a right hand man to founders Barnaby and Mary Conrad, as well as teaching nonfiction writing at the conference.

In that workshop Cork mentioned that when he lived in Spain, he’d become an aficionado of bullfighting, a bent he had in common with the one-time matador, Barnaby Conrad.

I learned that at times, under the stress of keeping the conference running smoothly, Cork could be a bit irascible and bull-like. But, in the end, it was his sense of humor that always won out. He was a man of relentless wit as well as being a damn good teacher of writing.

After a week of writing workshops, we all unwound at the SBWC talent show. I was surprised when Cork got up and performed a word-perfect Shelley Berman routine, complete with Berman’s exquisite timing.

I can only guess at the number nonfiction writers who got good starts in a workshop taught by Cork Millner. After 30-some years of teaching, this number has to be huge, and we all owe him for his help.

I like to imagine Cork at the Pearly Gates. He’s dressed in a white Armani suit. The brim of his hat’s at a dapper angle. He pours St. Peter a glass of fine vintage wine, and the gates open wide.

Let’s drink to that.