Observations: January, 2017

With the new year comes possibility. Sure, many of us are afraid for the health of America's states. We worry about the integrity of our new administration, we worry about basic human rights, we worry that families won't be able to afford basic healthcare and that our educational systems are broken beyond repair, but 2017 could surprise us. Our mistakes and complacency and greed are being amplified, and this can teach us a lot.

We got here together, to a time of disbelief and propaganda-fueled beliefs. We need to listen to each other more than ever before, and we need to talk to each other more than ever before. Things may seem dark, but I believe real change will come from it. In the words of the late Leonard Cohen: "There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in."

In 2016, I learned:

• Family is everything.
• Fear can either be turned into energy or it can sap energy.
• The weak and uninformed follow anyone who gives them a common enemy and an excuse, but there is no enemy greater than hate and division. #resist #listen
• If there was an award for person who places as a finalist in the most contests, I'd win in 2016. (Or be a finalist.)
• I wrote that last bullet point before I got the good news below.
• The word elitist seems to fit as many republicans as it does democrats. 
• When you help someone to achieve their dreams, yours are more likely to come true.
• It's OK to say NO.
• It's not OK to avoid answering questions you don't want to answer.
• I'm getting old. ("I don't understand why these young people don't look people in the eye...")
• Transparency is fine, so long as you're a willing participant.
• With all the loss of talented artists this year, we have a lot of powerhouse angels.
• Art is more important than ever.

In 2017, I will:

• Write unapologetically and as often as I can.
• Stand up for what I believe and listen to those I do not agree with.
• Buy my first home.
• Eat well.
• Exercise well.
• Try new things.
• Call those I love, even when things are going well or I have nothing big to announce.
• Support my writing friends.
• Learn from my students.
• Support my family.
• Tackle big problems one angle at a time.
• Run on my own terms.
• Find the perfect computer bag.
• Age gracefully.
• Drink more water.
• Travel every chance I get.
• Say NO to what is too much without guilt.
• Say YES to what I want but scares me.
• Post to this blog monthly.
• Listen to everything and make the best decisions I can.

I'm excited to announce that my unpublished short fiction collection, The Glass City, won the 2016 Americana Prize for Prose. I'm hoping the book will find its way to print soon. I also received word that my short story "Running Toward the Sun" got finalist status in the Aestas Short Story Competition 2016 and will be published in Fabula Press's Aestas Anthology soon.

Prompt: Write a short story or poem that begins with the line "The curtain parts, and..."

Observations, December: Part 15

The best way to reach out is to look within. Sounds good anyway, right? It definitely seems the basis for meditation and the theme of Westworld, so how can it not be true?

I've been taking a break from social media, specifically Facebook, to focus on a few writing projects. In a way, looking within through art. Or maybe I'm just strategizing about how to live in a less-than-ideal reality.

Whatever the answers... here are my observations from the last month:

• Don't take HVAC systems for granted.
• Internet advertisers: Send me a coupon, get a click. Send me twelve coupons, I'll block you.
• Most of us are dehydrated (drink some water).
• Cold weather = increased coffee consumption.
• Basic civics, logic, and humanities curriculums need more attention in America. Too many people are under-informed and easily manipulated. 
• Art saves. Action saves. Bitching is just bitching.
• There are way too many dystopic films for my comfort. (*cough* education)
• One can resist respectfully. Love regardless. Love relentlessly.
• House hunting is equal parts fun and a PITA.

Prompt: Your character is living The American Dream. What's his or her day like?

I published a few interviews at Black Fox Literary Magazine and Superstition Review, both on writing/the writing life. Check 'em out!!

Love, Jen

Observations, November: Part 14

I've had trouble distilling my thoughts since November 8th.

I have worries surrounding the future of our nation, including the very real loss of my rights as a woman. I am worried about the economy, foreign relations, a racist police state, and illogical and emotional responses to real threats.

I saw this morning that the president elect said something positive in regards to the thousands who are protesting his presidency. Something about how their passion for country is a positive thing.

I can only hope this small bit of positivity, if genuine and not written by an intern, grows. I did not vote for Trump, and I do not feel he is fit for the position. He is not my choice, and quite honestly, I am terrified. I am acting, in what small ways I can to reroute. In case we cannot, however, I do hope I'm wrong.

I am thankful that good people surround me, people who give me hope. They remind me that in the darkest of times, the light shines brightest. It is Veterans Day, and today I will be going to an event at an elementary school in which our writers-in-communities program has been coaching young people how to write poetry and personal essays. Our students have been working hard and having fun exploring their creative voices. They remind me that people are resilient and strong. Tomorrow's generation may still be about unity and inclusion. Today, the children will perform a poem in tribute to our vets. I am eager to see their light. I think we all need it.

I hope to be back to my normal self next month. Right now, I'm just too sad.

Thank you to all who served and serve. Thank you to those who are shedding light during a time of division.

In solidarity,

Jen

Observations, October: Part 13

I'm writing this after the second presidential debate. This, the town hall debate between Donald Trump, reality television star turned presidential candidate, and Hillary Clinton, former New York Senator and Secretary of State. The debate was painful to watch, and I won't dwell on it here, but I will say that I think our country needs the arts more than ever. We need a Renaissance, a wave of innovation and insight to offset what seems an increasingly uninformed and divided country. We need to grow, not devolve.

A few other observations from this past month:

• This election engages. It engages because it infuriates, much like a bad script. I hope the nation does not condemn itself. I hope those who take the trouble to self-educate and read widely vote. 
• Locker room talk is still talk. This is still a story. It will continue to be a story until November 8th.
• People who go all-out with Halloween decorations are just good and fun people, in general. 
• Westworld is reflecting some scary truths.
• Clowns are just fine. Scary clowns are not. Not all clowns are scary. (Logic!)
• The news today feels like the bad day-time TV of my youth.
• The first few cool days in South Texas are divine.
• Teaching is one thing, teaching well is another.
• There is nothing as gratifying as a good story.
• Marginal utility should be practiced with all food and drink. It just makes sense.
• Loosing the internet at home for an evening can lead to unexpected peace.
• Reading is good for the soul, so check out my new short story, a ghost story: FORTUNE IN SMOKE at SFWP Quarterly.

Ahti watching Westworld

Creativity: Write about or draw a clown who is a hero, a champion of all things good. By doing so, you may write a fantastic short story/create good art and restore balance to the world.  

xoxo

Jen

Observations on Mood, September: Part 12

Here's the overview of my day so far (if I survive, it might be comical): illness kept me up in pain all night; in the morning, I purchased the wrong item at the grocery, so I had to go back; rain flooded my neighborhood; lunch looked good but wasn't; I finally got reimbursed for a extraneous charge from a company but ended up having to pay more than that for my prescription because I haven't yet met my deductible; I got backed up on work; I took a pain reliever that gave me hives; I logged on to gmail to find that everyone who hasn't gotten back to me in the last two weeks decided to email me today; I had trouble concentrating because I was tired; I responded to a personal email after misreading it, so had to respond again, but the person had already responded to my response, so it kept on; my leg fell asleep when I tried to meditate, then I fell asleep and almost hit my head on the wall (still trying to meditate); I found it difficult to exercise; and so on.

This day makes me want advice, but instead of asking someone, I'm thinking about all the advice I'd give someone else who is having a bad day. Are you having a bad day? Ordinarily, I'd say...

• Meditate
• Read
• Exercise
• Eat well
• Talk to a friend
• Be grateful for what you have
• Drink lots of water (I say this to people no matter what's wrong)
• Take a bath
• Take a long walk
• Hang out with your dog or cat or bird

I didn't drink that much water today, but I tried most of this other stuff at some point. Now, I'm brooding. I'm dwelling in my misery, digging deep into it and adding up all the factors. In fact, I'm starting to feel a weensy bit better with each word I type, so maybe the secret to being in a bad mood is to just own it fully. Maybe when we try to fight the bad feelings, they fight back.  

Creativity prompt: Write or paint or sketch something inspired by a truly horrible day. (The book above is fantastic, by the way.)

Recent publications (short stuff): Polygon in Chicago Literati, Lottery Days in Literary Orphans.

Reflections from Marfa: 2016

The drive from San Antonio to Marfa is full of snaky roads and rock fall warnings. Taking I-10 through the hill country toward West Texas, the landscape is marked by rampart and cacti; the radio station options go from a few dozen to two. My husband and I listened to horse raising commentary interspersed with a sort of country music free-styling session. Our dog sat in the backseat, at first upright and ears perky, then alert and curious, and finally slouching and timid. Erm … where are you taking me?

The winds hit as I heard the hook “if you’re gonna play in Texas, you gotta have a fiddle in the van,” and things got Hunter S. Thompson weird from there (sans mind-altering support). We stopped at just about every gas station we could find as we made our way further west. If driving to West Texas, remember that bathrooms are an opportunity to seize, not a guarantee.

As the roads twisted higher and the mountains surfaced along the horizon, we noticed fewer road signs and more border control vehicles. Marathon, TX was is a ghost town on the Sunday we drove through, but we were able to find gas and grab a picture from the base of a hill before setting sights on Alpine, home to Sul Ross State University. The town, at about 6K, hosts a few food trucks and a coffee shop with a laundromat attached and a scrabble board ordering menu. Dogs were welcome everywhere, it seemed, and “everywhere” could be exhausted in a few hours with enough motivation and mobility. We walked and soaked in the beauty of the mountains in the distance, and we looked for people, figuring they must be hiding somewhere. We walked.

About twenty minutes away (if you drive hella fast), Marfa waited in all her divine dissimilarity.

Population of approximately 2K, Marfa was once home solely to ranchers but now houses artsy folk from Los Angeles and New York, thanks to the foresight of minimalism without motion. To find art in life and not spend endless conversations debating art philosophies and trying to navigate the ever elusive art circles, Donald Judd moved to Marfa in the seventies thanks to a fellowship that allowed him to expose the small city’s heartbeat with the construction of markers that shone light on the contrast that occurs in life.

Walking around Marfa felt like a large-scale treasure hunt. Unlike geocaching, I didn’t have to move rocks or climb mountains to find my treasures, however. Instead, I needed only pay attention. The barren landscape was dotted with brilliant, clean, minimalist art that seemed to both complement and conflict with the city that it housed. While venturing to Marfa restaurants and bars on a Sunday and finding only two of the seven Yelp suggestions to be open, Chris and I wound up at the one open bar.

This bar could have easily been in a small Ohio town or, really, any small town, but instead of a surly or worn-looking bar tender - someone whose life choices, situations, and work history have been etched into her face, this bar, replete with sticky floors and two-three patrons who looked as though they were there daily, was tended by a woman whose cherubic features and angular style suggested adopted, rather than inherent, struggle. She was clean and smooth skinned and unworn.

After chatting with some of the locals, who were descendants of locals, I came to understand that there is a generations-deep feud between Marfa and Alpine that dates back to ranchers who used to own all of the land. I also came to understand that guests in Marfa are welcome and hospitality is almost a competitive sport. After exploring the outside bar area, which contained a street light and a swing above the gravel floor littered with American Spirit butts, we walked in the cool desert air toward Hotel Paisano, the site of the Elizabeth Taylor Movie, Giant. On the way, we passed a gas station (food!) and a few other small shops and stores that were open only Thursday through Saturday. We ended up eating dinner at the hotel, which was rather good. Though I don’t recommend the fish tacos, everything else was divine.

The thing I noticed most about Marfa was a sort of pervasive peace. Everyone we spoke to was kind in an unrushed way. I caught myself having conversations and feeling an ephemeral tug of the chin downward, as though I had a text to answer or an email to send. What an odd and strung-out sort of feeling. Though I admittedly spent the first day taking a shit ton of pictures and posting them to Instagram, the second day was about accepting that quiet wholeheartedly.

Marfa reminded me how much I crave such time. To be with one’s self and one’s loved o

nes in silence is a gift rarely allowed in our transparency-above-all age. As though planted, a Marfa rainbow greeted us at an art school as we walked around, bellies finally full, noticing the number of cars (mostly trucks, actually) we saw could all fit in a doughnut shop parking lot with spaces to spare. The quietude was mesmerizing and important to me.

When we went to the lookout to see the famous Marfa Lights, we weren't disappointed to see only a few car headlights coming up the road. Each set contained promise, then the emotional equivalent to a shrug of the shoulders. Not indifference exactly, something nearer understanding. We stared out at the mountains, until we began to yawn. A local later told us that you don't always get to see them, and that he thinks they're staged. Perhaps. Some people beg to differ. To us, it didn't matter. 

“Marfa is the place people go to disappear,” a friend said before our trip. I only wish I could’ve kept the invisibility cloak on a bit longer. I turned 37 in Marfa, and I am going to remember the city's influence, artistic and inherent. I will attempt to carry some semblance of its odd peace and simplicity with me this year.  

Creativity prompt: Go somewhere quiet. No coffee, no food, no books, no computer. Just bring a pen and paper. Write.

A Month of Observations, August 2016: Part 11

Some thoughts in August...

• The best way to not write is to talk about what you're writing.
• If you want to feel better about your decision-making skills, put your chess app on Level 1.
• Name changes are a PITA. 
• When you have 4 teachers and and only 1 student, that's one lucky student. #truestory
• You shouldn't sip espresso. If you do, you don't get it. I'll show you how it's done.
• The right lighting is everything.
• The right friends are everything.
• The right place at the right time is cool.
• The right direction without GPS is genius.
• The right decision can't be over-analyzed.
• Adjuncts don't get paid enough. 
• Nonprofit workers don't get paid enough.
• The cannabis industry, globally, is something that people like to wave off, then secretly invest in. #truestory
• If no one listens to you, that's permission to say whatever the fuck you want.
• When you can get comfortable out of your "zone" and sit well with embarrassment, you're a rock star. 

*Creativity prompt: Write a story in a genre that you never ordinarily read. Just try it. Then read a bit in that genre and see how close you came. 

A Month of Observations, July 2016: Part 10

The last two weeks have been confusing. Human behavior is confusing. It's why we need art and meditation, poetry and stories. I'll just dive right in today and see where this goes.

• Serrano peppers are hotter than they look. Take note.
• Trends move so fast now that you can wait pretty much anything out without much effort.
• Patience is not passivity.
• Orange is the New Black is a great show (I really didn't think it would be).
• People buy more guns when there are shootings, and more guns mean more shootings. That's math. 
• Pokemon Go is all the craze, and a million copycat apps will be there to claim similar appeal when it fizzles (it's a good idea, and I suppose this is more of a prediction than an observation).
• When your ceiling caves in on your couch, you can see it as a horrible thing or an opportunity to get a cuter couch (see: cute red couch).
• Going home is unpredictable. I spent ten minutes looking around, trying to show my husband the way to a park that had been replaced with condos over a year ago.
• Serrano peppers are burning my lips right now. Excuse me...

Check out my new essay in Black Fox Mag about community and writing. And writing communities.

Creativity Prompt: Write about an unlikely craze. It can be something as simple as gold pants or as complex as a new doctrine that has taken hold of the collective psyche.   

A Month of Observations: Part 9

As the world seems caught in a maelstrom of violence, I've been spending as much time as possible at the gym or park, listening to Thich Nhat Hanh's Peace Is Every Step and other similar books. In other words, I've been trying to find my center. Or hold on to it. This pervasive sadness and anger can seem too much to handle some days. I know that I'm not the only person who feels this way.

One way I've found that helps is by being in nature. The heat in Texas sometimes intervenes, but I get out there when the sun is taking a break. It doesn't bring full balance, but it helps. Speaking of nature, I have one new piece out entitled OUR SKY, THE OCEAN (written a while ago). It's based on a true story. Loosely. And it's categorized as YA fiction here. If you read it, let me know what you think.

So. In interest of maintaining some consistency in this blog, here are a few observations I have for the last month:

• Violence invites more violence, which only leads to further violence. We are NOT all the stars of our own action movies, as some will have us believe. 
• Getting "revenge" on animals is about as productive as getting revenge on the weather. 
• Many of the people of San Antonio are gracious and compassionate, even in the face of pure hatred. 
• Conversely, the service at TxDPS and DMV sites can be a litmus test for calm and tolerance.
• When it comes to long-form writing, starting small is the way to reach the finish line (the paragraph-long goal beats the few-page goal and usually results in just as much writing)
• Sushi is fun to make and so incredibly cheap. 
• According to this article in Electric Lit, the top earners in writing can bring in more than I expected (and less than I made as a bagger at an Ohio grocer): https://electricliterature.com/what-writers-earn-money-c109bfb04d3d#.h3hwh6fq7
• Piggybacking on that last one, it often seems that the more noble the profession, the less one is paid, but I think this will have to change because do-gooders/teachers/social workers know how to make shit happen with few resources and no time. Watch out! 
• Varying a diet is better than eating the same thing every day. (Obvious one, but I need to remind myself.)
• Reading YA is surprisingly gratifying as an adult. (Just finished Pigman and Made You Up - Recommend both.)
• Taking one's own advice can seem damn-near impossible sometimes.
• I could discuss The Lobster for days on end and get nowhere, so don't try to discuss it with me. 
• Small acts of kindness, even as small as a smile, can stick with others. Kindness is just as contagious as violence. 

Have a peaceful week.

Prompt: Stop watching the news for a full day, then free-write. Free-write again after a day you've been following all the news (internet or TV).

xo Jen

Reflections from Prague: 2016

At the airport on the way home:

Prague Castle

“Would you like anything else? Beer?”

“No.”

“How about a beer?”

“No thanks.”

Sighs. “200 CZK.” Looks to husband. “Beer?”

So ended our trip to Prague. I’ll miss the city so much it hurts, and I don’t even drink beer. Meanwhile, I now know more than I ever thought I would about the four-ingredient intoxicant that was once made of a mere three ingredients (yeast being the late-arriver). I know that those in the Czech Republic drink more beer per capita than anywhere else in the world (though this isn’t tinkered with craft brews made for potency alone). I know that most restaurants in Prague serve beer two ways: light or dark, and in two sizes: big or bigger. Again, I don’t drink beer, but I have a new appreciation for its rich history thanks to the beer museum.

Me at the John Lennon wall, post-goulash

If you're considering going to Prague and you happened upon this blog, do it! Do it now! Do it for the following reasons: the clothes, the odd fascination with Culture Club, the thirty-year old music videos constantly playing, the Powder Tower, the Roman bathhouse style of fitness clubs in the basements of hotels, the beer, the architecture, the artisans on the Charles Bridge, the view from the Astronomical Clock, Slav Island, the history, the food (no diets allowed, unless you're like seven feet tall), the chocolate museum, the black light theaters (I only made it to intermission, but the experience is burned into my brain), the puppets, Kafka everything, the goulash, the portions, the conversion rates, the conversations, the castles, the bridges, the views, the John Lennon Wall, and the walking. I clocked about 25K steps a day (the one part of my phone that worked in Prague was my pedometer app) and I willfully ignored the rest of the world as I drank this city in. I suggest you do the same if you can, if only for a few days.

Other suggestions, more on the practical side: bring good walking shoes; have your hotel call your car; try Airbnb (I have a specific recommendation if you'd like, just drop me a note); try to get off the beaten path a little; the best words to know are: ano, ne, prosím, and and děkuji (yes, no, please/check, and thank you); your money can go far, but the redundancy of the shops increases odds of impulsive purchases (and they can add up); eat goulash (have I mentioned this one already?); enjoy the other tourists as they're part of the scene; go to the top of the Astronomical Clock - it is worth it; and the tours are fine but you can also explore the city on your own. It's very easy to get around.

As a writer, my favorite part of the whole experience was just people watching. Prague attracts tourists from all over the world. In fact, there were very few Americans (a break from American politics!). Whether you can travel or not, other lands make for great settings for fiction, so...

Creativity Prompt: Research or travel to a place you've never been. Find an outdoor place to sit and people watch. People watch for at least twenty minutes before you even pick up a pen or open a computer. Then go at it. Write/draw/create for as long as you'd like.

Till next month, folks! Let us carry on with this craziness called life. In the meantime, please check out my new fiction in Sequestrum, "The Glass City."

A [Month] of Observations, April 2016: Part 8

So here I am posting after a few extra weeks away. I realize how much I miss blogging! I miss you!!

I recently got back from Los Angeles, where I stayed with a good friend and commuted to AWP, a massive writing conference, to meet other Writers in Communities program directors as well as thirteen thousand or so writers who share my love of writing in one way or another.

I probably interacted with about sixty of those thirteen thousand, but it was enough to put my introverted brain on sensory overload. So, after a reading, a signing, and a few amazing panels, I returned to hike at Sherman Oaks then hang out with my friend and try to debrief as we ate Cheerios and listened to her pet pig snore (they can really snore).

At the Black Fox Literary Magazine Table. Thanks, Black Fox!!

Ordering sweet potato fries with my new friend

Sara Fitzpatrick Comito and my long-time (mid/long-time) friend, Isie.

It was fabulous. I enjoyed LA a lot. As such, I came back with some new observations about life. So, alas, here's Part 8:

• Tarot card readers will not always tell you what you want to hear.
• Food is fantastic in LA.
• Reading can be more dramatic when you need to make a quick exit after.
• Uber works in a pinch.
• Writing when overwhelmed is not a good idea (journaling for personal use only is).
• Chicago has great taste in short stories (see: recent acceptances in Chicago Tribune and Chicago Quarterly Review).
• I am not (you are not) who I know (who you know), but it's good to know good people nonetheless.
• I need to revisit the memory palace - I'm horrible with names. And faces. Geesh.
• Walking is medicine.
• Comparisons are usually destructive. Then again, they also motivate. Use with care.
• Cheerios are really great with banana and a pinch of sugar.
• Starbucks employees are far nicer in LA than they are in San Antonio.
• Acting is a fabulous ambition. Odds smodds. Go for it!
• Writing: Same!
• If you tell someone they're not going to like a thing, there's a good chance they won't like the thing. Contrarians are rare, precious creatures.
• This list is getting too long.

Three new story links this go-round:

"Help Wanted in the Midwest: On the Bus Line" at Cosmonauts Ave. Basically my memoir in 500 words

"War Muse" at Cheap Pop - a dystopic presidential story

"Gather the Ingredients" at Chicago Tribune's Printers Row (ask me for a link)

Monthly prompt:

Use yourself as a character. Only reverse everything. If you're shy, make your character gregarious and assertive; if you're skinny, give your character more volume; if you're afraid of spiders, give your character a pet spider. Just write like that for 20 minutes. It'll be fun.

The Living Museum

I'm thrilled to debut "The Living Museum" in Cleaver Magazine. The piece is odd. Fair warning. I wrote this story as part of a compilation I'm putting together on natural and unnatural disasters. I've done a lot of research, then thrown all research out the window to delve into a totally fictional world. Fun stuff.

I hope you enjoy it: http://www.cleavermagazine.com/the-living-museum-by-jen-knox/

Image credit: amira_a on Flickr

Story link: http://www.cleavermagazine.com/the-living-museum-by-jen-knox/

If you're a writer or artist, I recommend that as a prompt. Do a lot of research on something, then write something from the center of knowledge that is 100% fiction, that breaks all the rules and blends the absurd, the fun, the crazy, with what you choose to include from what you've learned. It can be a lot of fun.

Have a beautiful week! xo Jen

Complete creative work

One of my writing coach students sent me a note today that he got his first publication. I'm so excited for him, and I wanted to piggyback on this success by posting a lecture. Some writing coach notes.... at Fiction Southeast. Read up!

http://fictionsoutheast.org/save-your-abandoned-art/

Writing Prompt: Finish that draft!

xo Jen

New Story Link

"The Shape of Loss" is up at Change Seven Magazine. Gratitude to Sheryl Monks and Antonios Maltezos.

Click to Read

A Month of Observations, Feb 2016: Part 7

I am focused on my fiction like never before. This is the primary reason I haven't had much of a chance to blog here between our fantastic interviews. I realized that these lists are like a lazy person's diary, however, which I consider therapeutic. So here's my weekly therapy. A few observations from the last week:

• Chocolate placed in a common area that isn't heavily monitored will disappear at the speed of sound (this is an approximate calculation).
• Political debates are about as enlightening as old episodes of Flavor of Love.
• I think the reason many people like to be told what to do and think is because they are exhausted.
• Novels are lethal.
• Writer and reader can connect through story, but it doesn't happen just because the book is entertaining.
• Coming to the end of a good book, or series, is like losing a friend. Or having that friend move away to, say, Texas - if you don't live in Texas - where you will probably never visit her.
• All medications have side effects, even if they're not immediately evident.
• Unexpected and unsolicited praise is likely the only genuine praise.
• You can add $30 to each plate of food if your restaurant spins and you have a decent happy hour.

My book recommendation: My Brilliant Friend (and then the rest of the Neapolitan trilogy) by Elena Ferrante.

Prompt: I stole this one from one of our WIC notebook assignments, but it's great. Write about a cactus that wants to live inside of a balloon. Interpret this literally or figuratively (probably figuratively would work better - but I'd love to read what you come up with if you actually write about the cactus).

Writers in the Spotlight: Susan Tepper

                                         

Welcome, Susan Tepper! Thank you for taking the time to answer a few questions. I am eager to discuss your new flash collection, dear Petrov, launching February 2 by Pure Slush Books. Congratulations on the new release!  I can’t shake these stories. They’re haunting and masterfully written.

The narrator in your book often writes to Petrov in a manner that depicts her reverence for the natural world and all its strange magnificence. Were there specific places that inspired these vivid descriptions?

ST:  To my mind the natural world is a spectacle that is unsurpassed.  I feel it in the everyday, and also when I see it in the great art of the museums. I’ve travelled extensively since I was a kid and I think the natural world, the varying countries, invaded me.  There was no particular place for this writing.  Other than what my mind perceives as old Russia.

  

In many ways, your narrator is as mysterious as Petrov himself; the complexity of their relationship steers the line toward larger, philosophical questions and examines the complexities of love and longing in a delicate but powerful way. I wonder how the concept of this book originated. Did you begin writing these stories with the narrator in mind, or with Petrov in mind? 

ST:  One day I sat down blank at the screen and Petrov emerged.  Or, should I say the narrator who loves Petrov emerged first.  The stories began after one of the worst personal times of my life.  My mother who is elderly had an apartment fire.  I moved in there, and lived with her under those conditions, putting the place back together and helping my mother get well.  It was grueling.  I never stopped working unless it was meal time or bed time.  I went about the tasks without any conscious awareness of my own personal suffering.  In a sense I became a soldier with a job to do.  I had no help, no doors opened from adjoining apartments to lend a hand.  Then a few days before I was to return home, I was assaulted in a Post Office by a deranged woman.  Again, people heard my screams and no one came to my aid.  Petrov, I believe, sprang from this feeling of intense aloneness.  After those experiences, my unconscious mind decided to set the story in war time.

  

The individual stories in dear Petrov, as well as the collection as a whole, allow the reader a certain amount of freedom to attach meaning or expand on the narrator’s exploration. As a teacher, this struck me as the sort of text that would be good to teach because I imagine it evoking lively discussions in the classroom. Was this intentional?

ST:  This is good to hear.  But nothing was intentional.  Each piece was written from the place in my brain that writes poetry.  In fact, the collection has been termed cross-genre by some people, since segments have been published as both poetry and fiction.

  

Which piece was written first, and how did the larger story collection evolve?

ST:  Dear Petrov was the very first story, and published by Cheryl Anne Gardner in her zine Apocrypha and Abstractions.  Then I wrote Floods which Richard Peabody took for Gargoyle.  The work seemed to flow out of me, nearly every day.  It was an outpouring of the pain and emotions I kept hidden from my mother during the fire.  I had to get her back on her feet so I couldn’t indulge myself.  I often write things that have no basis in reality, but come from an emotional stem in my brain that holds things.  (I wish I could release easier, it would make my life better!). 

Thank you so much for indulging me, Susan. Now for the writing practice questions… What attracts you to the flash fiction form?

ST:  Actually I’m attracted to all forms of writing.  I love the long flow of novel, and have written several which are not yet published.  Flash fiction is fun because you can get it all done in bite-sized pieces and it’s challenging.  I love a good challenge.

Who and what inspires you to write?

ST:  Jen, nobody inspires me to do anything.  I’ve always been intensely stubborn and self-motivated.  Plus I have a high interest level, a curiosity that doesn’t quit.

Do you ever get blocked creatively?

ST:  Nope.  I like to talk to people.  I like hearing their stories.  I like telling mine to them.  Writing is an extension of that.

  

Do you ever use prompts?

ST:  Only if someone presents them in a journal challenge that could lead to publication.  But on my own, never.

  

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received (writing related or no)?

ST:  A brilliant man once said the following to me:  “It doesn’t matter whether you win or lose as long as you don’t quit.”

Thank you so much for taking the time to swing by. I would love to know what you’re working on currently, and where readers can find your work.

ST:  I’ve written some short stories that have been picked up for the spring.  One is coming out in Thrice Fiction Magazine, it’s pretty wild and entirely different from ‘dear Petrov’. I’m also going to start a revision on a novel that’s been pending for a few years.  That should be fun, I’m really looking forward to re-working that one.

Susan Tepper is the author of five books of fiction and a chapbook of poetry.  Awards include Second Place Winner in story/South Million Writers for 2014, and 7^th place winner in the Zoetrope Contest for the Novel, 2006.  She has been nominated multiple times for the Pushcart Prize, and once for a Pulitzer Prize in fiction for her novel ‘What May Have Been’ (co-authored with Gary Percesepe).  Tepper writes the column ‘Let’s Talk’ at Black Heart Magazine where she also conducts author/book interviews.  FIZZ her reading series at KGB Bar, NYC, is ongoing these past eight years.  

The Slope of a Line

My current writing is tackling everything leading up to this scene, and everything after it:

The Slope of a Line

(New fiction in Litbreak)

New interview coming up soon! And maybe some thoughts...

The Migration

A new story is up at Midway Journal Volume 10, Issue 1. Thanks to Editor, Ralph Pennel, for posting my work. I completed the draft for this one at The Art Farm (keeping my process transparent since 2009) and revised it last year. 

*The Migration*