The Big Break

I'm waiting for something exciting to happen on the writing front. Something to give, you know? Something I can celebrate, toast over, and I'm thinking more champagne than bread. Universe, are you listening? Won't someone bring it on, please? I'm ready. I'm long ready.

Thoughts Of A Tuesday

Another killer interview over at PANK, this time (ever more aptly) with the mysterious editors of >kill author. I just love these guys/gals. There’s an earnestness to everything about >kill author that I so appreciate and admire — it’s a total turn-on. Thanks again, mysterious editors, for allowing me to grace your first issue.

I highly recommend John Amen's poetry collection MORE OF ME DISAPPEARS. On its cover there's a gorgeous photograph of a bright yellow armchair under a cherry tree in full blossom. Reading Amen's poems I felt like I was right there in that chair, under that tree, showered in petals. More, I felt like I had disappeared into his book. I don't pretend to know much about poetry in any scholarly sense, but I do know how this collection made me feel. In MORE OF ME DISAPPEARS, John Amen's remarkable gift for rendering imagery, language, truth, and emotion becomes ever more apparent.

There's yet another exciting new magazine in our mist: matchbook journal. Editors Edward Mullany and Brian Mihok are doing great things. Check out the wonderful works and writers they've published to date. Submit!

I have a story "Lost" live now over at All Things Girl. Thank you Deb Smouse, editor.

The High of A Great Read

I think I'm starting to get something akin to that runner's high on reading something so good it can give me goosebumps. It's a rush, you know? That quickening of pulse and sitting up straight and feeling that tingle throughout and reading so fast you feel like you're devouring the work. I love that feeling. I love the stories and the kind of writing that can do that to me.

During my six years of college at Mills (BA and MFA) I couldn't get any enjoyment out of reading. I didn't fully appreciate it at the time, but looking back I see of course that I was stressed, depressed, and run ragged. I was the over-achieving straight-A student, had two complicated pregnancies spaced three years apart, and at last delivered two daughters that I breastfed, the first for a year, and the second for fifteen months.

I felt sucked dry, literally and figuratively. I'd read stories and novels and for the most part felt nothing. It was a slog to get through the pages. I wondered where all the good stories and writers had gone? What the hell was I doing writing if I couldn't even find anything I cared about reading? Desperate, I returned to Raymond Carver and Flannery O'Conner and found solace, remembered why I was in this crazy game. Although, at that time, the solace was all too fleeting.

I graduated from Mills in 2004. After graduating, I mothered and I battled depression, my demons. Both were full-time jobs. I'm in a much better place now. I'm in the best place of my life. My writing's back, and so is my love of reading. My smile comes from deep inside now, you know?

That's a long-winded way of explaining just how excited I feel having started my day with yet another terrific story from one of our very own: Roxane Gay. Read her story "Gravity at the End of the World" over at Knee-Jerk Magazine. I'm just coming down from the rush of that read. Congratulations yet again, Roxane.

Great Reads

This morning, I had the great pleasure of reading Angi Becker Steven's latest stories in Storyglossia and (So New) Necessary Fiction. These stories are oh so good. They gave me goosebumps. Read, enjoy, and let Angi know she rocks.

Congratulations also again to Steve Himmer and Steven J. McDermott. You know how to pick them! Seriously.

I also read Tai Dong Huai's story "Kisssed by Johnny Depp" in Annalemma. It's another wonderful story from this seriously talented writer, and another great issue of Annalemma that's yet again packed with excellent writing and gorgeous artwork. Congratulations, Tai Dong Huai and Chris.

Now, I gotta go write some fiction. I'm oh so inspired.

Sparrows and Bears

Grey Sparrow Journal's Issue 2 is out and it's really something! Treat yourself to the read. From its photography to its state-of-the-art aesthetics to the outstanding writing it's truly setting the bar ever higher for online journals.

The issue includes Elizabeth Creith, Frank Dahai, Timothy Gager, Howie Good, Meg Pokrass, Michelle Reale, Bill Frank Robinson, and the editor's choice for this issue, Joe Young, among many others. The issue also introduced me to the work of Iris Macor. I especially enjoyed her second flash "If It's All The Same To You." Very nicely done, Iris.

Congratulations all round to the editors and contributors alike, stellar stuff.

I have a blog essay up today at PANK. You can read "Motherhood, Writing, And Wrestling Bears" here. There's also essays from Teresa Houle and Angi Becker Stevens. Thanks PANK for giving us the space to sound our voices.

A Sum Greater Than Its Parts

Courtesy of PANK’s generous giveaway, I received Sean Lovelace’s HOW SOME PEOPLE LIKE THEIR EGGS. I read it in one sitting. I read it again, carefully. I read it a third time, savoring.

I am a narrative writer, and hold a preference for traditional stories and writing. They’re the biases and prejudices I bring to my reading. Yet I also have a healthy respect and admiration for writing that doesn’t make so much sense as makes art, makes meaning.

This collection holds deep meaning. It recalled for me Beckett’s work: sometimes arbitrary in construction and always threaded through with the agnostic’s rage against the arbitrary cruelty of life.

I must also admit that I don’t like eggs. I don’t think that affected my reading of the collection’s title story. Still, “how some people like their eggs” was my least favorite work here. While it left me luke-warm, I did appreciate its imagination and inventiveness.

I loved “Meteorite,” the collection’s first story. It’s a narrative about friendship, love, leukemia, and loss. It rails against the arbitrary cruelty of life. It also testifies to the strength and endurance of the human spirit.

I like how “Meteorite” opened. I like how it introduced the two main characters. I like how we see our narrator struggling to find the right words even as he knows there are no right words. I like how Lovelace uses the 10 Commandants for Cancer Survival. I like how Paige reacted to the crushing news, twisting expectations. I like the art of selection here, what’s left in and what’s left out. I love the last paragraph, its imagery and that last heartbreaking, breathtaking line.

I like how HOW SOME PEOPLE LIKE THEIR EGGS felt in my hands and played in my head. It is a sum greater than its parts. Get it here from Rose Metal Press. Enjoy.

Congratulations, Sean.

Getting Genuine

Randall Brown over at Flashfiction.net kindly invited me to write a post for his Monday Guest Blogger spot. It went live this morning. Thanks, Randall, for the opportunity, and more importantly for providing Flashfiction.net, an excellent and ever expanding resource for our flash community.

Third Eye

The Editors at Foundling Review kindly asked me to be the first contributor to their "Third Eye" feature."Third Eye" offers commentary on the current issue (Issue 4). I felt thrilled to be asked, and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Thank you, Ajay and Anupama. I hope you enjoy my commentary and the entire issue, and just hope that no one thinks I wrote that glowing introduction myself!

Necessary Fiction

I'm thrilled to have my short "Rocket Into A Pocket" go live on (So New) Necessary Fiction today. I so enjoy and admire this first-class magazine. Steve Himmer, Editor, is TTT: tireless, talented, and terrific. He gets my standing ovation and virtual hug. Thanks, Steve.

All Hail

All Hail To All Things PANKish
How exciting is this: PANK’s first Chapbook contest. Need I say more? Check it out here, and enter. Good luck everyone.

All Hail to Randall Brown
Another exciting and ambitious venture that’s of enormous benefit to our flash community is Randall Brown’s website flashfiction.net. Congratulations, Randall, and thank you.

All Hail to Duotrope Digest
Staying with incredible, generous, and diligent people Duotrope Digest are in the red. Please help them out by donating NOW.

All Hail to Art that Makes us Pause, Think, and Feel
Through Adam Robinson’s latest blog post I discovered the stunning sculptures of Heather Jansch. Enjoy, and thanks, Adam, for sharing.

There’s also something to hail here:



And here:



And here:

The Dixie Chicks

Saying What I Need To Say

Fear is such a small word, and such an awful emotion. I feel frightened right now, bordering on panicked. I’ve just finished writing a short short that’s left me trembling. My jaw and stomach are clenched, and I have that sickening sensation that something is scraping the back of my throat.

I want to submit this short short because I think it’s good and genuine, but it’s scandalous. I think Pindeldyboz for one would accept it. I’ve long wanted to publish with Pindeldyboz. But do I have the courage to allow this piece into the world?

Much like my piece “Snatches” in Storyglossia 33, I think this one would scandalize many. I’m afraid of that type of exposure, judgment, and criticism. I thought I’d die after publishing “Snatches.” Seriously. Because of the explicit nature of much of my work I’m afraid people will think less of me, and most terrifying of all, of my young daughters.

Sometimes I feel frightened and ashamed of my work because so much of it is around sex, sexuality, and abuse. The writer in me is so much braver and fiercer than the rest of me. There’s so many I can’t share my writing with. This makes me feel sad and confused.

On Monday, Monkeybicycle (online) will publish my short “Under Water.” After “Snatches” produced gasps and fingerpointing from some, I felt mortified and withdrew “Under Water” from consideration at three magazines.

Once I recovered from that wound, I felt compelled to resubmit “Under Water” and am thrilled that Jessa Marsh at Monkeybicycle accepted it. Yet the fear is also there. That “can I really publish that?” terror.

I could use a pseudonym, I know, but that seems self-defeating. Throughout my childhood, I kept secrets and felt that no one, least of all my parents, truly knew or understood me. It’s damaging. I’m still trying to come out of hiding. What, though, will writing what I need to write cost me and my family? And why do I need to write about all that anyway?

Some of my favorite writers in this community are fierce and fearless, and some of their best work centers on these very themes. Is it at all frightening for you? Do you feel comfortable with your subject matters? Proud? Defiant? Or is there a part of you that also quakes? I'd love to know.

For me, exposure and the why and what of my writing is an ongoing battle. Meanwhile, I’m saying what I need to say and hoping I’m doing the right thing.

Mid-August Marvels

There's an incredible amount of great writing about at the moment, what with the launch of The Collagist, and new issues from kill author, DecomP, PANK, NOO Journal, DOGZPLOT (Flash), and more. Another excellent online literary magazine to watch is Staccato Fiction. Check out their fine aesthetics and even finer fiction.

There's the usual stellar work in these issues that we've come to expect from such writers as Lauren Becker, Matt Bell, Mel Bosworth, Jimmy Chen, Kim Chinquee, Kathy Fish, Erin Fitzgerald, Heather Fowler, Roxane Gay, Steven J. McDermott, Laura Ellen Scott, Beth Thomas, William Walsh, Kevin Wilson, and Bonnie ZoBell, and many, many more. Wow!

What's more, kill author Issue 2 introduced me to Emma J. Lannie. I so enjoyed her short "Proxy." It reads fresh and inventive and is thoroughly satisfying. Here's snippets: "The corridor is long and full of too many chances to turn back." "I wear all grey, like skin when the heart stops." "He kisses me and it feels like a car crash. Something you know you shouldn't enjoy, but you can't help it." There are so many more lines I could quote, but out of context they lose their power. Congratulations, Emma. I look forward to reading more of your work.

What a line-up of writers and great works! Please read these wonderful magazines, and let their editors know how much you appreciate their extraordinary efforts and the gifted writers they are publishing.

I'm proud to be a part of this terrific community. Thank you.

A Trio of Things

Stopped Cold

Yesterday, my seven-year-old daughter invited a friend over to play at ours. I made ice-cream cones, and we sat outside on the deck, the wood hot under our bare feet, sun broiling the backs of our necks.

My daughter's friend licked her double-scoop of mint-chip and rolled her eyes: "This is to die for."

My daughter stopped mid-lick, and also rolled her eyes: "You mean to live for?"

Thatta girl.

The Floodgates

To Facebook or not to Facebook? I'm leaning toward the former. I'm tempted by the networking opportunities, but wary of the distraction and exposure. SO many would be SO appalled.

Permanent Ink

There seems to be a lot of talk about tattoos lately. The fabulous Jimmy Chen has called them "permanent bumper stickers." The equally fabulous Roxane Gay has "six or eight depending on how you look at it."

Here's mine, on my back, copyrighted :-)

The Beauty And The Wonder

Tai Dong Huai keeps a low profile, and has no blog or website that I could find. Her work stands alone, and it’s really something. I’m a long-time fan of her writing, and enjoy returning to her stories again and again. Read one of my favorites here.

There seems to be some affinity between Irish and Chinese writers and their diaspora? I’m also thinking of Yiyun Li, a formidable woman and writer. She often credits Irish writers, William Trevor in particular, as being major influences on her work.

Country and family are central to Irish and Chinese stories. Our stories try to force answers and demand accountability from both. The Irish and Chinese also share haunted histories and reticent cultures. We try to unlock all of that too in our work.

The Irish reticent? We’re largely known for our hospitality, merry-making, smooth-talking, and wicked sense of humor, but that’s a persona. At heart, we’re a reticent culture. I point to my recent attempt to hug my dad on first seeing him in Ireland last month. He met me at his front door, and as I reached for him, he turned away and continued down the hall. I’d have felt hurt, only I knew his reaction had nothing to do with me and everything to do with his inability to show affection. And he’s the norm versus the exception, at least of his generation. A garrulous generation, but never about matters of the heart.

Years ago, at the end of another visit, I summoned the courage to tell my dad that I loved him. He said: “you’re living in America too long.” Now that delivered a sting, but again I knew not to take it personally. He loves me (as best he can). Yet I will never hear him tell me as much. That’s just the way it is.

Not sure how I got from Tai Dong Huai to my dad, but isn’t that the beauty and the wonder of writing?

Speaking of beauty and wonder, PANK just announced their Best of Net 2009 nominations, a list that is delightfully poet-heavy, and which also includes the rocking writers Tania Hershman and Tim Jones-Yelvington. Fantastic. Congratulations one and all.

Random, And The Need For A New Pillow

I’ve only pages left to read in The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. I don’t want it to end, and wouldn’t let myself finish it last night, wanting to draw it out for as long as I can. The little games we play …

I just received in the mail Short Story Month: A Collection of Essays and Reviews on the Art of the Story from Dzanc Books. Get your copy here. The first post directed me to Aaron Gwyn’s story “The Gray” in Esquire’s online fiction. I loved the story, its much lauded fight scene is indeed skillfully drawn, but I felt especially moved by the protagonist’s torment post-fight, such a refreshing shift from (my personal peeve) the “becoming-a-man” through violence narrative. Bravo.

Dzanc’s Best of the Web series are now accepting nominations for inclusion in Best of the Web 2010, with the fabulous Kathy Fish serving as Guest Editor. How exciting! Get nominating, editors, and good luck everyone.

I’ve fast become a fan of Jessa Marsh’s writing. Jessa is Monkeybicyle’s new Web Editor. Congratulations, Jessa. Check out her stories here.

I also loved PANK’s interview with Jensen Whelan, Hobart’s Web Editor. Read it here.

Now, I’m off to buy myself a new pillow. Last night, my old one offered as much comfort as a deflated pool toy.

In The Ring

I’m back in the ring, throwing punches. Shortly after writing my last post, I returned to the book I’m currently reading: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, by Mary Ann Schaffer and Annie Barrows. It’s a surprisingly wonderful read (a book in letters?) and my mood immediately lightened.

Later, I returned to my emails, rereading all the mail I’d received while in Ireland, and updated my submissions log (rejected, rejected, rejected). However, there was heartening mail also: a email from a writer and editor I greatly admire and respect inviting me to submit to a journal she’s guest-editing; a rewrite request from an excellent magazine I’d love to place work with; and the excellent and encouraging edits and feedback from Matt Bell (via Dzanc Creative Writing Sessions) on a story that I know has the potential to be great. Okay, I thought, there’s something, there’s light.

I returned to my blog, thrilled to receive a comment from Tanita Davis. Tanita always seems to know just what to say to put me back on my feet, dusting myself off and getting going again. Next I decided to update my list of published works on my blog, citing what went live during my absence. My latest work is in PANK, Bound-Off, Up The Staircase, The Northville Review, The Shine Journal, Southpaw Journal, Ocho # 25, Cantaraville Magazine, & LitNImage. And there’s more coming. Not too shabby, I thought, brightening more.

Then, surprise, surpise, Eric Beeny also commented on my latest post, words and a sense of solidarity that I deeply appreciated. It hit me then that, really, I’ve no idea who reads my blog and my work, no real sense of how much my words impact others. But the possibilities are endless, and that’s deeply humbling and gratifying. So bolstered, I returned to my work and started revising first one story, then another, and finally a third. I felt the load lifting.

Word by word, I thought. That’s all I have to do. Go word by word, and try to do my best each and every time. I am a writer. I should never have allowed any person, place, or circumstance to interfere with that. I need to write, otherwise I’m miserable. I also need to embrace the writer’s life, there’s a lot to celebrate and feel grateful for, and just suck-up its perils and pitfalls.

So I’m back in the ring, realizing that my opponent, the one in blue, is my internal critic, that voice that torments me with “you’ll never make it, you’ll never be good enough, you don’t have what it takes,” and rather than following my first instinct and slugging the bitch, I hold her in a bear hug until she quiets down and then I tell her in a firm, but calm, voice, to step aside and get out of my way, because I’m coming through. She’s not holding me back any longer. Watch out, folks.

And thanks, friends. You all know who you are.

I Blue It

After a thirty day stay, we returned home from Ireland yesterday. In Ireland, it showered every day. Yes, every day. We moved constantly amongst my and my husband’s family, staying a couple of nights here, a few nights there, packing and unpacking suitcases, sharing beds, skipping showers, and cleaning-up after ourselves. It was a mixed bag of fun, laughter, love, tension, and grief, the kind that only family can bring.

I ate and drank too much, and was around other people constantly. I neglected to get time alone and to exercise enough. I need both. Hence I’m wearing a virtual “I survived” tee-shirt. I’m also tired. It’s not just the “jet-lag” kind of tired, it’s a defeated kind of tired. I’m feeling the need to cry. Yet the tears won’t come.

I didn’t write in Ireland. Not a word. Thirty days without writing. Maybe that’s why I’m hurting so much? Yet I’m not sure I have the energy to pick up where I left off, to revise all my stories that need saving; write the new stories that peck at me; log onto Zoetrope Virtual; check out Duotrope; catch-up with all the blogs and writers I follow. What of the novel(s) and story collections I want to write and publish? The energy required feels overwhelming.

I received an unprecedented number of rejections during the past thirty days, a battering amount and not a single acceptance. I tried to go a different direction in my latest stories. I tried to deliver what Randall Brown calls the “emergent precious thing.” Obviously, it’s not working.

I feel angry and frustrated. You know that physical feeling where something inside you just wants to get out, to move up through your stomach and throat and wrench out of you? I feel like I’m banging my head off the wall, like I’m trying to force something into existence that’s just not there, like I’m going to run myself ragged trying. Like I need to stop. Just stop. Like I blue it.

Where The Grass Is Greener

I don't know the science, and doubt there is any beyond perspective, but the grass truly does seem greener in Ireland. I'm going. To Ireland. For three weeks. And three days. The dates just came out that way. My two daughters are ecstatic. They love Ireland. It's a little more complicated for me. I'm going with a good attitude, though. That can only help.

I can't wait to see my two sisters. They're twins. We're going to get away together for two nights, just the three of us. Like old times. Only better. We're adults now. We're staying at The Four Seasons in Carlingford Lough. I've never visited Carlingford Lough. I've never stayed at a Four Seasons. The rate for two nights with breakfast and an evening dinner is 99 Euro per person (that's about $130). I think there's been some mistake. Shhhhhh. I hope we get away with it. I'm bringing my swimsuit and sneakers. I'll probably just end up in the bar.

My access to the internet will be spotty over there. I'll miss Zoetrope, Fictionaut, and Blogsville. I'll miss my writing desk and writing every day. Maybe absence will be good :-) Mostly, I'll miss all of you. Feel free to contact me, especially with any submission acceptances-- sorry I couldn't resist that.

I have work going live this week at PANK Magazine (thanks, Roxane); The Northville Review (another class act, thank you, Erin); and Cantaraville (thrilled, Cantara Christopher, go raibh mile a maith agat). I'm also (ahem) on display now at OCHO 25 (the print companion to MiPOesias Magazine) edited by Blake Butler extradonaire. Thanks, Blake.

I'm back in San Francisco August 5th. Until then, take care, be well, and happy writing and living.

Long Live The Short Story Online

Slush Pile Magazine just launched Issue 3 featuring Billy Collins, Rick Rofihe, Marian Brunn Smith, and David Thorpe, among other wonderful writers, editors, and poets.

Roland Goity's--Editor, LitNImage-- story "Green Lake" is a must read. A story that is as much a wonderful portrayal of place as it is of people. More, its narrator has such a vivid and compelling voice I literally couldn't look away.

"Green Lake" is packed with wit, humor, and excellent dialogue, and is also quite moving. The work explores issues of rivalry, friendship, creativity, fame, success, everyman, love, loss, urban versus small town America, and striking out on one's own. Phew! It accomplishes a lot, and I challenge anyone to read it and still claim that longer stories are not suited to online magazines and its readership. Congratulations, Roland. I thoroughly enjoyed the read.

Indeed, I enjoyed the entire issue -- truly impressive works. Congratulations also go to M. R. Branwen, Slush Pile's Editor, an incredibly savvy, accomplished, and admirable young woman. Kudos also to her wonderful editorial team. It takes a village, right?

Speaking of LitNImage, their Summer Issue just launched. My story "Zero To Sixty" is included. Thanks, Roland.

Update on the Universe and me: at the start of the month, my birthday month, I asked the Universe (quoting from a Roxane Gay story) to "please come and get me," i.e. to show up for my writing and me. Seven days into the month I've had acceptances from Keyhole Magazine (online), Southpaw Journal, and Up The Staircase, sweet! Thank you, Universe. Please keep the acceptances coming. Did I also receive rejections? Mais d'accord.

This And That

I finished The Field Guild To Writing Flash Fiction (Rose Metal Press), and highly recommend it. It's packed with excellent essays, exercises, and example stories. I'm almost finished PANK's exquisite # 3, and am just about to dive into keyhole Issue 7.

Have you subscribed to your favorite lit mag lately? As writers and contributors, we need to support the publications that nourish and publish us. Also have you pre-ordered Molly Gaudry's novella we take me apart from ml press yet?

My short "The Fat Lady Sings" came out of the first exercise in The Field Guide and is currently live at Everyday Genius. Adam Robinson, Editor, sent me one of the nicest acceptance letters I've ever received. Thanks, Adam! We love Publishing Genius Press and Everyday Genius.

I'm in Keyhole (online) too, thank you Universe and Peter Cole. I'm psyched.

I also have work currently in mud luscious, Writers' Bloc, The Oddville Press, and The Houston Literary Review.