12 or 20 (second series) questions with Josh Denslow

Josh Denslow is the author of Not Everyone Is Special (7.13 Books), Super Normal (Stillhouse Press), and the upcoming collection Magic Can't Save Us (UNO Press). His most recent short stories have appeared in Electric Literature's The Commuter, The Rumpus, and Okay Donkey, among others. He is the Email Marketing Manager for Bookshop.org, and he has read and edited for SmokeLong Quarterly for over a decade. He currently lives in Barcelona.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

My first collection was plucked from the slush pile at 7.13 Books, and it changed my life for sure. Because after years of trying, it showed me that it was actually possible to publish a book. So I continued writing them. In that first collection you can see the formation of how I employ humor in my writing, and nothing sounds less funny than using the words “employ humor.”

2 - How did you come to short stories first, as opposed to, say, poetry or non-fiction?

I came to fiction in general first because that’s all I knew growing up. There were tons of novels in our house, and I read them all. I didn’t come to short stories until much later when I started writing my own stuff and was excited to learn I didn’t have to dive directly into a novel! For me, they were like novels with training wheels. But of course, short stories became much more profound for me later.

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?

Starting a short story can be the hardest part because I will rewrite the first paragraph dozens of times until I find some magic alchemy that gives me the tone of that particular piece. Then it tends to flow much faster after that, though I do rewrite quite a bit as I go.

Everything is about flow for me so I’m constantly rereading, especially that first crucial paragraph, to keep me on track. Tweaking is happening throughout so by the time I get to the end, it’s pretty close to what the final will be.

That’s for short stories.

For novels I do something similar, but the difference is that when I finish the first draft, I basically start over and write it again with what I learned in the first pass through. My second published book was a novel, and I wrote it from scratch four times until I got to the version that Stillhouse Press published.

4 - Where does a work of fiction usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?

For my newest collection, MAGIC CAN’T SAVE US, I purposely wrote each of the stories with the idea that they would form what I was calling a “thematically” linked collection. Every story features a couple whose relationship is falling apart in some way, and then a magical creature comes along and makes things worse. It was a really exciting way to work, and I would do it again! In fact, I already have some ideas for a “science-based” collection of stories.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I don’t enjoy doing readings. I don’t necessarily enjoy going to readings either. But I’m very supportive, and I can disregard my own personal enjoyment as long as the reading is not hours long. Then, as it turns out, I had other plans that night.

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?

No matter how fantastical things become, I’m always in search of ways to make the characters more human. More real. More relatable. And I want to carve out a bigger slice then just my limited worldview. The questions I want to answer are the questions that plague human beings no matter the background. I’m looking for that ooey gooey center core. And a lot of the time, those questions are the ones we ask ourselves regarding our place in the world and how we can do better on an individual level. To be a better mother or father. A better daughter or son. A better friend. A better citizen. Better.

But I typically make things pretty difficult for my characters. Maybe now is a good time to apologize to them!

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?

This is tough because I don’t think writers are necessarily obligated to do anything other than write. But then on the flipside of that, I think as humans we have an obligation to learn more about the world. To be curious about life outside our circle. And one way to do that is to read. And if all the writers are tasked with this when they write, and the readers are looking for this when they read, then it’s a pretty amazing circle where the writer helps the reader build empathy.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

I think having an outside editor is a gift and should be cherished. In all my publishing experiences (MAGIC CAN’T SAVE US is my third book), the end product is infinitely better because of the time spent with my editors. It’s the best way to see where you’re falling short. Where you can dive deeper. Where you can find hidden treasures. And I haven’t only edited my work. Some of the notes I’ve received have given me the tools to edit myself. To become an actual better person and a better writer going into the next project. It’s amazing.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

I think if I paid attention to advice I would not have ended up where I am now, and that would be an epic tragedy.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to music to film)? What do you see as the appeal?

Music takes up a lot of real estate in my mind. I’m obsessed with finding and listening to new music. I also have been playing the drums for decades now (!!!) and had a bit of local success with the band Borrisokane which I started with my wife and her brother. I think my love of music is what gives me that obsession with “flow” which I literally can’t define but I spend most of my time trying to capture in everything I write.

I also have a degree in film from Columbia College Chicago, and I spent ten years in LA working on film sets and writing and directing my own short films. I hear a lot that my stories have a filmic quality, but I have no idea what I’m doing to give that impression, other than I just steeped myself in film and now it’s coming out in my dialogue. On a side note, whenever anyone says that about my work, I take it as the highest compliment even if it wasn’t intended as one.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?

I have no writing routine. What I have instead is a full-time job as the email marketing manager for Bookshop.org as well as three children and an incredible wife and we all live an incredible life that I don’t want to miss. I just write when I can! Luckily for me, I have no shortage of ideas and things slowly find their way out into the world.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

Reading. Always reading.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

A cake in the oven.

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?

I’m incredibly influenced by music and film, but as I said, it’s an immersion in those forms and then that manifests itself naturally in my work.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

My life experiences influence my writing the most. But, of course, reading is why I love writing. Here is a smattering of writers who have been important to me in one way or another over the course of my life to now: Ellen Raskin, Kazuo Ishiguro, George Saunders, Ursula K. LeGuin, Fernanda Melchor, Olga Tokarczuk, Margaret Atwood, Kelly Link, Charles Yu, Marlon James, Isaac Asimov, David Foster Wallace, David Mitchell, and Yōko Ogawa.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

I would like to direct a feature length film and play drums in a band that goes on a world tour.

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?

I would have loved to be a professional drummer doing session work and playing shows every week.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

If I don’t write, I feel like something massive is missing in my life. And that feeling can loom heavy over everything. So I write to keep the beast away! Writing make me feel like me. 

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

The last great book I read was It Lasts Forever and Then It’s Over by Anne de Marcken. One of my favorite movies lately was that Dungeons and Dragons one with Chris Pine. My wife and I saw it twice in the theater and then watched it again at home!

20 - What are you currently working on?

I have a completed 540-page beast of a novel that I’ve been shopping for the last couple of years, but sadly, I think everyone is scared of it. I’m doing a fourth pass on a middle grade book that I’m really excited about that might have better luck in the next few months. Also, I just started two new novels, one leans more science fiction than I’ve ever done and the other is a bit more existential and influenced by some of the stuff I’ve been reading lately. I’m waiting to see which one finds its flow first. As for short stories, I have just begun a series of small stories influenced by physics and some of my science obsessions.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Amy Stuber

Amy Stuber’s writing has appeared in The New England Review, Flash Fiction America, Ploughshares, The Idaho Review, Witness, The Common, Cincinnati Review, Triquarterly, American Short Fiction, Joyland, Copper Nickel, West Branch, and elsewhere.

Her short story collection, SAD GROWNUPS (Stillhouse Press) was published October 2024.
 
1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
I'm publishing my first book, SAD GROWNUPS, a short story collection, in October of this year. I am going to be 55, so it's kind of late to "debut," but I've been writing and publishing for a lot of years, sometimes more off than on, though, especially around the time I had kids. This book mainly contains stories written in the last five years, though a few are a little older than that. I've tried in various ways to publish a book for the last ten years (small press contests, working with an agent who tried to sell a novel I wrote alongside a collection that was pretty different from this one, etc.), so getting a book feels like the culmination of a lot of years of work. I'm sure when the book actually comes out in October, I will feel a blend of excitement and anxiety. Though I've been writing for a long time, I always feel like a fraud when it comes to talking about my writing or reading it to other people, so I think -- though I'm incredibly grateful for this book -- it's going to be a weird few months of putting myself out there in ways I'm unaccustomed to. And second part of your question: I think this is different from work I published ten years ago in that it's slightly more experimental or plays with form and structure more than I might have ten years ago.

2 - How did you come to fiction first, as opposed to, say, poetry or non-fiction?
As a college student a lot of years ago, poetry was my first obsession. Then I remember taking a fiction class and being introduced to a few writers I loved and then proceeding to read all the Best American Short Stories and O. Henry collections my college library had. Then I read Joy Williams, Toni Morrison, Amy Hempel, Denis Johnson, Raymond Carver, Lorrie Moore, Sandra Cisneros, Louise Erdrich, all these fiction writers whose work just altered me. I still love poetry so much and the poetic compression of a good short story.
 
3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?
Most of my stories that actually work come quickly, in a day or a few days for a full first draft. I usually know if I'm laboring over a draft of a story for weeks (not fine-tuning but just the initial writing and setting pieces in place) that it's never going to really come to fruition. But for stories that come out fairly intact in a few days, I do revise a lot - at the line level and moving parts and pieces around and trying to change phrasing and eliminate overused words and make an ending stronger and change tense or perspective. This is all with regard to short stories. Novels are entirely different. I wrote two novels in three years, and I don't recommend that. It's such a different process, and I think it requires a lot more planning, thinking, mapping, and revision (at least for me).

4 - Where does  prose usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?
Oh I've done both. I tried to do a novel from short pieces - a couple of stories that became part of a larger work. And I've also tried to write a whole book from the very beginning. Neither fully worked, ha, but I will probably try to go back to them and revise in the next year or so. I don't think I've abandoned those books completely. But for a short story collection, SAD GROWNUPS came together from pieces, but I was pulling from about 60 flash and short stories to decide what this book should be. Initially, it was a blend of flash and short fiction, and then I decided the flash didn't fit, made the book feel too elliptical and stop/start. So I made it just short stories and culled a lot of them that felt stylistically or thematically dissimilar until I had a book of pieces that I think works together.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
Absolutely not. I'm relatively introverted. It's why I quit teaching many years ago. That said, as I've gotten older, I think I've gotten more comfortable with readings. There's an element of acting that I can kind of lean into. I just did a podcast and actually really enjoyed it. I'm also doing a reading with a bunch of other debut authors via Books Are Magic (but at Wild East Brewing Company) in Brooklyn in October that I'm pretty excited about. So maybe my answer is not "absolutely not" but more: I'm giving them a chance. Trying.
 
6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?
I don't know if this is really theoretical, but for the last few years, I've really been trying to push myself around what a story can do and be. For the last few years, that's meant consistently trying to add another element to a story, sometimes meta, sometimes another POV. I am really interested in writing that experiments without letting the experiment subsume character and emotion. It's such a hard balance.
 
7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
We're all completely beholden to each other, and we should all try to take care of and protect each other. Writers, or anyone with any platform, should speak truth to power. It's hard to do sometimes because doing so means compromising livelihood for many people. Lately, I've seen people losing opportunities because they've chosen to speak up about Palestine, which I think shows how much our institutions have leaned more toward being about money or a kind of monoculture than being about creativity and people.  

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
Essential and not that difficult. I usually love getting edits and tend to take most of them. Every now and then, I'll think, "What are you talking about/that's not what I meant at all?" defensively at first, but then after a few days realize the editor is right. 

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
I constantly think of this quote, which I believe is Wordsworth: "Getting and spending, we lay waste our hours/ little we see in nature that is ours." It's kind of fundamental so not really a lightning bolt, but it's centered me throughout my life and reminded me not to get bogged down in material objects and material success when concerns about those things creep in too much.  

10 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?
I do not have a writing routine, though when I was trying to write a novel, I did write every day. I have a full-time job and work as a volunteer editor for a lit mag on top of that. So finding time to write is always a struggle. I have the time on some days but feel exhausted or uninspired. Many people I know are in the same boat. If I write 5-6 stories a year, I feel pretty good about it! But I feel like maybe I'm coming into a more productive time in terms of creative output, where I think I might have a more regular writing practice, and that feels exciting. But I think no one should force themselves into a writing routine that makes them feel bad or doesn't help their practice.  

11 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
Poetry, music, walking, people watching.  

12 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Well, my current home: unfortunately a kind of fall leaves/old house smell that I don't love! But if I were being idealistic, maybe lilacs. Their smell seems kind of transportative - it's very childhood for me.  

13 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?
Definitely being in nature, observing places and people and structures. I also love photography and paintings, any museum, nature preserves, wild places in general, and music.  

14 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
I love books, obviously, but literary magazines have been hugely important to me in the last few years. I've edited for Split Lip Magazine and have met some of my closest friends there. I also just think some of the most interesting and innovative writing is happening at litmags. They are able to exist outside of some of the capitalist concerns that tend to affect big publishing. If I'm feeling like I want motivation or want to really admire writing, I tend to go to literary magazines, both online and print.

15 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Writer answer: write a novel I'm proud of and feel good about

Non-writer answer: drive across the country back and forth (I've done so many long road trips, but I've not gone from coast to coast as one solid venture - and I'd like to do that). A bit of an environmental nightmare, but with the right car, maybe less so. I'd also like to walk across a state by cobbling together nature trails (I do not want to be one of those people walking on highways because that sounds miserable, and I don't really want the competitive thru-hiking like the PCT).

16 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?
Vagabond! Not sure this counts as an occupation.  

17 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
At the beginning of college, a long time ago, I got some positive feedback about my writing from a teacher I loved. I was, at the time, a journalism major and wanted to be some kind of international journalist. I probably would have kept in that direction had I not struggled with a statistics class, dropped it, realized statistics was required for the journalism major, switched to English, and then continued on to grad school. I've quit writing a few times for long stretches, but I always go back to it. When it's going well, it's the best thing.  

18 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
I just finished Blue Light Hours and loved it. My neighbor produced the movie Fancy Dance, and I loved that, and I also recently watched The Rolling Thunder Revue for the first time, and I really enjoyed that, the way it was so immersive and you felt like you were completely in the 1970s for a brief period.  

19 - What are you currently working on?
I'm working on a sort of novel-in-stories about a family in the aftermath of their middle child's mental health struggles and his unexpected death. There's a Walden-esque reality show, a mother and adult daughter who have a relationship with the same person, and other familial unraveling and coming together. I don't know if it will work, but that's what I'm doing right now.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Phil Goldstein

Phil Goldstein is a poet, journalist and content marketer. His debut poetry collection, How to Bury a Boy at Sea, was published by Stillhouse Press in April 2022.

His poetry has been nominated for a Best of the Net award and has appeared in The Laurel Review, Rust + Moth, Two Peach, 2River View, Awakened Voices, The Indianapolis Review, Linden Avenue Literary Journal and elsewhere.

By day, he works as a senior editor for a content marketing agency, writing about government technology. He currently lives in Alexandria, Va., with his wife, Jenny, and their animals: a dog named Brenna, and two cats, Grady and Princess.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

I’m still figuring that out, since How to Bury a Boy at Sea is my first book and it’s just been published. I can say that already it’s afforded me the opportunity to connect with a wide range of people and groups interested in preventing and helping others heal from child secxual abuse, which the book reckons with. That includes survivor groups, abuse prevention organizations, mental health professionals and others. And that’s been very rewarding. It’s also been incredibly heartening to hear from people who have purchased a copy – or who have passed along info about the book to others in their lives – who are also survivors of abuse, and tell me that it’s helped them feel less alone. That’s a huge goal of the work.

In terms of how it compares to earlier work it’s hard to say since almost all of my previously published poems are in this book. It’s definitely been the most intense and difficult and rewarding creative experience I’ve had in my life up to this point. 

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?

I started writing poetry when I was in seventh grade and wrote it through high school and into college, with my work in my college years being more of the slam poetry/spoken word variety. And then after I graduated and got a job it basically fell off and I was consumed with my writing for work, which has been business and technology journalism. I was always an incredibly avid reader of both fiction and non-fiction growing up, but poetry always spoke to me in a way that other forms of writing never did. My mom got me this anthology of American poetry aimed at kids when I was 11 or 12, which actually coincided with when I was being molested, and poetry as an art form just really stayed with me, as a way to express really complex feelings. 

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?

My writing comes in bursts or spurts, I would say. I’ll be walking the dog or in the shower or making dinner and an image or a line will pop into my head and I’ll write it down, and sometimes start jotting down the first draft of a poem on my phone. And there are weeks or months where that happens and I write half a dozen poems in a pretty short period of time. And then there are times where I’m not writing anything creative for weeks or months at a time because things are busy at work or in our household or in the world – there’s still a pandemic raging! – and that’s frustrating.

I would say there are a few poems in my book that came out relatively fully formed and required very minimal edits before they became their final form. But I think, like most writers, the vast majority of my finished work is the byproduct of multiple rounds of revision.

4 - Where does a poem usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?

Poems always begin for me as an image. And then I build the architecture of the poem around or leading up to that image. Since I’ve only had one book published so far I can’t say that I’ve really written with a larger project in mind over a long period of time, except for this book. I think once I had written a dozen or two dozen poems dealing with the abuse that my then-girlfriend and now-wife really encouraged me to think of this as a potential book, so I have to give such immense credit to her for that. 

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I’ve always been a bit of a performer and did musicals in high school and slam poetry in college, so I really enjoy doing public readings. I enjoy reading poems on the page, sometimes aloud to myself, but I am definitely one of those poets who thinks that poetry was and is intended to be spoken out loud, hopefully in front of a decently sized audience of people. I think that poetry is obviously meant to evoke emotions in people who are reading or hearing it, and so I see public readings of poetry in the same way that I see public performances of music or people gathered in a movie theater. They’re all there to experience art and will all be influenced or affected in unique ways. I think that’s wonderful and as COVID-19 hopefully becomes more of an endemic disease over time and cases go down I really hope there is this burst of public readings. I love public readings.

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?

I wouldn’t say there are theoretical poetry concerns that I’m preoccupied with, but I think a deeper question my work confronts is, What does it mean to survive a trauma? Anyone who has experienced trauma in their lives has their own individual response to that trauma. And there’s no one “right” way to respond or heal from trauma. Everyone’s response is so particular and multifaceted, and so I want to explore that kaleidoscope of emotions and experiences. A corollary is, What does it mean to live a full life? No one is or should be defined by the worst thing that’s ever happened to them. There is obviously pain and suffering in life but there is joy, love, intimacy, connection, wonder. What does that look like in connection to the darker aspects of our existence?

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Does s/he even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?

I think writers at large continue to play the role of interpreting and explaining the human condition to others. Whether or not that is understood or appreciated by the public at large is an entirely open question in a world where the culture is so fragmented and atomized and our politics are so polarized. I think poets, in particular, have a responsibility to address and illuminate aspects of the human condition that do not get a lot of attention in other aspects of the culture, whether that’s TV, movies, the news media or anything else.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

Editors are and will continue to be absolutely essential in my mind, whether that’s friends serving as informal editors or editors you are working with for a project that is under contract. My work would not look and sound the way it does without the incredible insight of editors. Sometimes one might disagree with their perspective, but those perspectives are totally essential.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

Pare down your writing to the essential elements and lose the unnecessary ornamentation. What is it you are trying to convey with this one particular image or series of lines?

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to essays)? What do you see as the appeal?

I enjoy writing both and find it relatively easy to move between both since I write and edit news articles and narratives for living. I think poetry allows you to address emotions, thoughts and experiences in an abstract way and essays are appealing because they enable you to build an argument in a more straightforward way.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?

I honestly do not have a set routine for creative writing. I write so much during the week for my job that I try to snatch time whenever I can in the evenings on the weekends to work out poems or other creative work. 

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

The work of poets I either know or am just discovering whose poetry makes me feel electrified. A long walk in the woods or along a body of water also always helps.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

For where I grew up: chicken wings (from my favorite restaurant in my hometown). For where I live now: the perfume and hand lotion my wife uses. 

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?

Music is definitely a big influence for me. I listened to a lot of music while writing the poems that became my book and I even created a Spotify playlist to celebrate those songs and instrumental pieces that I think really resonate with the book’s themes or emotions I want to evoke. And being out in nature always inspires me and reminds me of the precious beauty of this fragile world.  

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

This could go on for a while so I will try to name just a few: Louise Glück, Walt Whitman, Adrienne Rich, Nikki Giovanni, William Faulkner, James Baldwin, Jericho Brown, Rainer Maria Rilke and Lucille Clifton. Whenever I read their work I am blown away.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

I’d love to spend a significant period of time in a place that’s pretty disconnected from civilization, deep in nature. I’d also like to go skydiving at some point.

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?

I think maybe a nature or news photographer. I like taking photos on my phone but it would be amazing to get paid to take photos.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

I’ve always been writing in one form or another, going back almost as far as I can remember, so I’m not sure.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

The last great book I read is hard to pick! The last great novel I read is The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead. I’ve also read some fantastic poetry collections in the past year, including Rachel Mennies’ The Naomi Letters and Catherine Pond’s Fieldglass. The last great film I watched was The Power of the Dog, which I watched at home with my wife. It’s such a beautiful, intriguing film. The director, Jane Campion, is a genius.

20 - What are you currently working on?

I’ve been trying to work on some new poems where and when I can, but it’s honestly been tough lately amid my day job and work I’ve been doing to promote How to Bury a Boy at Sea. Hopefully I’ll encounter another burst at some point soon.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Anita Felicelli

Anita Felicelli is the author of CHIMERICA: A NOVEL and the story story collection LOVE SONGS FOR A LOST CONTINENT. CHIMERICA appeared on The Millions’ Most Anticipated: The Great Second Half of 2019 Book Preview, Fiction Advocate’s What to Read in September, and Ms. Magazine’s Hidden Gems of 2019. It was an Alta Fiction Pick for Winter 2020. LOVE SONGS won the 2016 Mary Roberts Rinehart Award.

Anita’s stories have appeared in The Massachusetts Review, Alta Journal, Midnight Breakfast, Terrain, The Normal School, Joyland, Kweli Journal, Eckleburg, Catapult, and other places. She’s regularly contributed to the San Francisco Chronicle and Los Angeles Review of Books. Her nonfiction has also appeared in Slate, Salon, The Rumpus, PopMatters, Bustle, Babble, Brain Child, Publishing Perspectives, and the New York Times (Modern Love).

Anita’s work has been nominated for Pushcart Prizes, won Greater Bay Area Journalism awards, placed as a finalist in several Glimmer Train contests, and received a Puffin Foundation grant. She graduated from UC Berkeley and UC Berkeley School of Law. She grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, where she lives with her spouse and three children.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
I wrote Chimerica before I wrote most of the stories in Love Songs for a Lost Continent. They are very different books. Love Songs is a postcolonial short story collection about memory, love, and loss. Many of the stories ask who can reinvent themselves and what the limits of that are. Chimerica is a postmodern novel, a surrealist legal thriller, that experiments with found texts and is a little provocative, mostly because of the point-of-view character. I think that observing how readers received Love Songs, a more understated and formally conventional text, made me acutely conscious of the potential pitfalls of writing about another culture. Greater consciousness is not a bad thing, but it's changed how I approach certain problems in my current work-in-progress. Chimerica is a far bolder and more audacious text by design— I didn't know how it would be received when I wrote it back in 2010. I wrote it a little bit more freely than anything I've written since.

2 - How did you come to fiction first, as opposed to, say, poetry or nonfiction?
I've been writing all three my whole life, though I saw myself as a fiction writer first. I came to fiction with the greatest dedication because I read more of it than anything else and all the time. It got to the point that my father worried about my excessiveness and instituted a rule that for every fiction book I checked out from the library, I had to also check out a nonfiction book. I had a high propensity for make-believe and stories as a child. I used to play games about imaginary lands and make up stories with my closest friends—no other endeavor has felt so natural to me.
 
3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?
My work comes out of notes made over years and my first drafts are often very different from the final shape. A first draft typically comes very quickly because I often think about a story for a long time before writing it down. I'm thinking about stories while cooking, washing dishes, or doing other organizational or administrative tasks. However, every project is different and has its own needs and I try to honor those, whatever they are.

4 - Where does a work of prose usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?
I start working on fiction when I become obsessed with the what-if of a potential real or theoretical conflict. I turn thoughts over and over until they coalesce into a story. Life is very short — I won't write about something if I can't get excited about it. At the point of obsession, I can usually tell whether I'm working with a large, complicated story that would best be served by a novel, or a smaller idea. I'm working —at least purportedly —on a book from the very beginning of my process at this point in my life. That wasn't always true. Chimerica started as a novel— the fourth novel I ever wrote—but I'd written two unpublished and failed different books about similar subjects prior to it, which is why I approached Chimerica knowing it would be a novel. But Love Songs for a Lost Continent includes stories from as far back as 1998 that I never considered might become part of a collection when I wrote them.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I love talking to people about books, mine or other people's, and doing spontaneous Q&As. I don't necessarily like to give readings. I find the performative aspect potentially stressful.

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?
I do have theoretical concerns behind my work —my education was very theory-driven and I can't really leave it behind when I write — but those concerns vary dramatically from project to project. I don't consciously make decisions about what to be interested in. If I were to try to pull away from all of my projects and take a birds-eye view, I'd say that I'm repeatedly preoccupied by ambition, outcasts, nonconformists, social division, and how society's structure reinforces itself among ordinary people. The particular questions and themes of each book are different, though. Love Songs asks, for example, to what extent people are constrained by their identities and memories, and what happens when they try to reinvent themselves by crossing boundaries? My two current projects have themes of time, memory, love and mortality.

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
I believe the role of a writer is to tell the truth as he or she sees it.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
It's essential to have an editor. Editors are a godsend—it's seriously amazing that they want to spend time on someone else's work of imagination. They do so much to improve and sharpen stories and novels.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
I received some advice from Chris Abani years ago and I return to it again and again. He told me to take the long view of my writing career. When you take the long view, no one book is "it" and so you can always keep going with your work, even if you receive harsh criticism, no support, rejection, or come to believe you failed in a particular project.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (novel to short story to critical prose)? What do you see as the appeal?
I follow my interests at all times, whether I'm writing or reading. It's easy and natural to move between genres — I don't force anything when I write under my own name. There are sufficiently restrictive constraints on me in my ghostwriting for work and as a parent — and previously, as a litigator—that I can't spend what time is left over on things that aren't interesting to me. I think different types of stories call for different genres and voices. With enough practice, you have a fairly good idea of whether you have a novel, short story, or nonfiction on your hands.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?
In the past, I've written in the morning before the kids got up, or after they went to sleep. During the pandemic, my time is a bit of a mess. I'm snatching time here and there wherever I can, but mostly after my kids go to sleep or when they're playing peacefully or in the midst of screen time and it seems like I'm not going to have to mediate a quarrel.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
I turn to art or music or other books on a regular basis. But far more often, I need to settle down, not get inspired. My mind is almost always in a state of excitement about something  — I'm intense and have far too many ideas at once. Baking or listening obsessively to certain albums helps relax me enough to get back to work in a more focused way. I think my imagination works better when I divert my focus to something other than the writing problem at hand, if that makes sense.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Spices like asafoetida, curry leaves, cinnamon, and cloves.

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?
Music and visual art strongly influence my work. I'm eclectic in my tastes, but I'm always looking at what musicians or artists are doing in terms of pattern or technique that I could somehow transform for use in my own work. For instance, I'm fascinated by cross-genre blending and sampling in hip-hop, and I think a lot about how similar effects might be achieved by blending genres in fiction. I'm also fascinated by symbolist and surrealist paintings, installations and found art, and I've borrowed techniques from those, too.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
I read very widely so there are many, many writers who are important to my work for different (and sometimes competing) reasons. Some of these writers, just off the top of my head, are Elena Ferrante, Kelly Link, Helen Oyeyemi, Adolfo Bioy Casares, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Arundhati Roy, Jonathan Lethem, Toni Morrison, Danzy Senna, Percival Everett, and Yoko Ogawa.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
I want to raise my small children to be kind, resourceful, and capable adults. I also hope to travel to Antarctica and Easter Island and I want to see the Northern Lights before I die.

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?
I've been a ghostwriter to support my fiction for ten years. I was a litigator for eight years before that. Before that, I had several different jobs —secretary, graphic designer, data entry worker, live-in nanny, and babysitter. The only thing I've done consistently in all that time was write fiction.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
It seems to surprise people, but I never really wanted to do anything else in a serious way. I studied law because it came easily to me and I thought I might make a social difference with regards to human rights or civil rights. I didn't get how difficult it is to get properly paid for this type of work in our society. And when I gave up on making a career out of social justice concerns, I underestimated how time-consuming and taxing it is to be a litigator. When I was young, I had an ambitious idea that I could do it all — write fiction, make a living as a lawyer, help change society, and also have children. I've had three of those, but not more than two at the same time.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
The last great book I read at the time of this interview was Ron Nyren's superb and elegant historical novel The Book of Lost Light, which is about a wildly ambitious photographer and his relationship with his son and his niece. It's set in San Francisco around the Great Earthquake last century. It's so beautifully put together and weaves in Finnish mythology. The last great film was Charlie Kaufman's I'm Thinking of Ending Things.

20 - What are you currently working on?
I'm revising a novel and intermittently writing surreal short stories that revolve around the theme of time.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Megan Merchant

Megan Merchant lives in the tall pines of Prescott, AZ with her husband and two children. She holds an M.F.A. degree in International Creative Writing from UNLV and is the author of three full-length poetry collections with Glass Lyre Press: Gravel Ghosts (2016), The Dark’s Humming (2015 Lyrebird Award Winner, 2017), Grief Flowers (2018), four chapbooks, and a children’s book, These Words I Shaped for You (Philomel Books). Her latest book, Before the Fevered Snow, is coming into the world in April 2020 with Stillhouse Press. She was awarded the 2016-2017 COG Literary Award, judged by Juan Felipe Herrera, the 2018 Beullah Rose Poetry Prize, and most recently, second place in the Pablo Neruda Prize for Poetry. She is an Editor at Pirene’s Fountain and The Comstock Review. You can find her work at  meganmerchant.wix.com/poet. 

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

It took ten years of submitting before my first book, Gravel Ghosts, was picked up for publication by Glass Lyre Press. That acceptance opened a door of permission that I didn’t even know I was waiting for—one that allowed me to move forward in creating my second book, The Dark’s Humming. The work came quickly after that, in a relieved rush. However, Before the Fevered Snow wasn’t created at that same pace. Those poems demanded that I hold them longer. They took a different shape in my mind and in conversation with what they needed to be (mostly because I wrote them as my mother was dying). I shared the book with a friend the other day, when she held it in her hands she said, “These poems are different, they feel different”. I think it will take me awhile to understand exactly how—I am still so close to the work.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?

When I was younger and kept diaries, they were always in poem form. I had no idea what I was doing, without any reference for how to do it beyond the elementary school exposure to the stiff and starched texts that my teachers offered. But there it was. My tween and teenage angst expressed itself in free verse.

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?

Almost all of my chapbooks have come out whole, in order, and require little editing. It’s a weird thing to tell people that I spent the day writing fifteen poems in one sitting. When that happens, it feels like a miracle.

My full-length collections are slower to come together, and usually go through a few incarnations before I’m ready to send them into the world. That’s my favorite part though, sitting with the poems, pulling threads, connecting and developing themes, trying to weave them into a whole.

4 - Where does a poem usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?

Some poems began as a sound, others a line that tugs something deeper, or a feeling of urgency that’s unlike anything else. That, for me, is the most human feeling—holding those poems until I can sit down long enough for them to take shape. While Gravel Ghosts was a collection that spanned years of work, my second book, The Dark’s Humming, came together during six months of my son’s nap times. It started as a joint project (with Comstock Review Editor John Bellinger) about madness--we were exploring all the soft and sharp edges of it and when I started writing poems about postpartum depression and motherhood, I knew that I had been swept into another book. Writing Grief Flowers was a very similar experience.

At the time that I was writing Before the Fevered Snow, I didn’t know that it was a book, I just knew those poems were saving me. When it did come together, it was an entirely different manuscript I had titled Paper Mother. That was actually the manuscript that the editors at Stillhouse Press accepted. But in the months between submitting and the acceptance, I kept writing, and noticed that the newer poems were stronger, more focused.  So, when I got the phone call to discuss publication, I had to find the courage to tell them that Paper Mother had been dismantled. Somehow I managed to ask them if they would be willing to read a whole new manuscript.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings? 

I view the opportunity to share my work as the reward. I love connecting with the audience, allowing those poems that I labored over to have their moment. Sitting down to write, showing up to the page, and being present with the poems = the work.

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?

I am always looking critically at the perspective that I have to offer, in authenticity, at how I relate to the world, at how specific language can create or destroy, can be inclusive or exclusive, at how I am representing the themes that I address (motherhood, autism, cultural violence, grief). I have had to closely examine how much of my truth I am willing to put into a poem with regards to my family members who might read that work, and how much I am willing to risk. When I do write about my children, I try not to write about their experiences directly, but about my experiences with them as I watch them navigate this world and all of the challenges they face.

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Does s/he even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?

To create. The framework of the artist/writer in terms of their role in our culture is dynamically unfolding and so many artists and writers are contributing in powerful and meaningful ways—sharing their voices, stories, and gifts. I think the main responsibility for the creative soul is to create—for their own integrity and well-being, as well as for the ripple effect of their contribution to our world. Each offering is so much more than just adding beauty, or making a statement—when we have the opportunity to listen, or hold, a perspective or story that is different than our own, then we can start to open into empathy.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

Essential. I have had the great privilege of working with tremendous editors (those at Glass Lyre Press, Cindy Sostchen-Hochman, and Tommy Sheffield at Stillhouse Press), but have had radically different editing experiences. So far, my experience with Stillhouse Press has been the most intense. I spent weeks working directly with Tommy via phone calls, going line-by-line through each poem in Before the Fevered Snow. He is amazing! I would make a suggestion and he would instantly come back with something to the tune of, “Well, you already used that word in the fourth stanza on page twenty-three, so …”. It was a giant refresher course in grammar, and I learned new ways to think about and look at my work by engaging so closely with the poems, how they moved, and why they worked (or didn’t). I started to understand more about the choices I had intuitively made along the way. I learned how to dance between defending my work and letting go. The book is stronger because of his insight and effort.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

Go where you are loved.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to translation to children's books)? What do you see as the appeal? 

My children’s book is really a poem, so there was little transition there. I am working on fiction these days though. And that is a whole new world. It’s so appealing because my brain doesn’t speak that language fluently—I struggle to think in terms of character development and plot. It’s a challenge, which keeps it interesting.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?

I work at home, writing and editing, while raising children (one with special needs), so I have learned to create in the slips of time that aren’t accounted for. Now that both of my children are in school, there is a wider breadth, but the majority of my books were written at a desk in the corner of the kitchen, sitting next to the tub while my children bathed, in the car waiting to pick someone up from school/a music lesson/therapy/or swim practice. I learned how to be present with life and the needs of those around me while holding the poems until I could find enough time to give them shape on the page. I didn’t apply any guilt to the process, or an expectation that I would write every day and in that way, when I could carve out the time, it felt like a gift.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration? 

I try to engage with new experiences, conversations, adventures, and as much nature as I can without having an allergic reaction. I am also learning how to have patience for the wisdom and perspective to come into view. I see a poem as having two parts—the container (language, shape), and the wisdom/heart of it. I view the periods of quiet as spaces for that wisdom/understanding to grow, and then when it does, I get to play with the right way to express it.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

The smell of ponderosa pine after the rain.

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art? 

I have been learning how to play musical instruments (ukulele and guitar) along with some music theory and everything in my world has shifted. Also, I spend a lot of time outside in our yard, communing with the ravens and hummingbirds. They have taught me a lot and I have found that when I am able to sit quietly with them, I can begin to hear the poems.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

I am deeply grateful for the community of writers and editors that I have been able to connect with via social media, AWP, readings, etc. Somewhat recently I connected with Connie Post, former Poet Laureate of Livermore, CA and fellow Glass Lyre Press author. She has been a remarkable mentor and friend in terms of all things writing, navigating raising a child with autism, and general life advice. Regarding books, there are a few I keep close by—Collected Poems (Jack Gilbert), Love, an Index (Rebecca Lindenberg), The Carrying (Ada Limón), and Our House Was on Fire (Laura Van Prooyen).

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

Sleep in a houseboat in Amsterdam.

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer? 

In another life, I would want to work for the CIA in forensic linguistics to solve mysteries and fight crime.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

When I traded a promising career in marketing for my MFA in International Creative Writing, I learned how to follow a path simply because it made me happy.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

I have a long-standing love affair with the movie Wonder Boys and am currently reading Pema Chödrön's Welcoming the Unwelcome, which is pretty great.

20 - What are you currently working on? 

Happiness. Healing. Balance. And also, I am writing ukulele songs for kids on the spectrum that are fun and instructional—my favorite so far is called “Appropriate Shoes”.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;