1. Tell us about your CNF piece, “Weekly Specials,” in Volume 21. How did it come to be?

My family moves around a lot, and one of the discussions we have about that is over what stores are present and which are missing. I feel it brings a bit of stability to be able to buy the same comfort foods your parents cooked for you as a child.

I also think a lot about the stories hiding in overlooked places, and I think that’s why I’m attracted to unusual forms. I don’t believe in limiting stories to specific forms with specific rules that are only and always in books. If you get nosey enough about someone else’s shopping cart, you’ll find a story.

2. What excites you as a writer? What turns you off, makes you turn away or stop reading a piece of writing?

To paraphrase one of my favorite manga: I don’t write to escape reality; I write to face reality. I like stories that give me something to take back into reality, so if it doesn’t shift who I am, I’m not interested. I’m particularly uninterested in work that claims to be universal but is parochial, limited, and not for me to read, like Hemingway.

That said, I have a pretty broad taste. The Book of Night Women helped me see my ancestors as human and layered. My Hero Academia engages my earnest inner child and inspires me to pursue my dreams when I’m feeling burnt-out and jaded. Recently, I’ve been reading essays from The Collected Schizophrenias in order to better understand my mother.

3. How does the current political climate influence your art or creative process?

I used to feel panicked and urgent all the time because so many of my overlapping identities were under attack. (I’m a black woman who was raised Muslim, grew up lower-income, and identifies as queer). But I tried to really sit with the Toni Morrison quote that “The function […] of racism is distraction. It keeps you from doing your work.” Nowadays, I realize that just being myself to my fullest is resistance enough. My current form of rebellion is to let my work be as happily black or femme or Muslim or queer or lowbrow as it needs to be.

4. What does your creative process look like? How does the environment you are in shape your work or where do you like to write?

I never know what people want to hear when they ask about process. A method of drafting, editing, or creating ideas that others can emulate? I feel like everyone has to develop an individualized method that fits their goals, values, and lifestyle.

That said: I do a lot of preplanning in my head, so it looks like I write quickly. Sometimes, I draft on paper and edit as I transcribe to digital, but I always save in the cloud. I’m still learning how to revise, but I like to set drafts in the closet for a couple of months first. I use The Snowflake Method for longer works, and recommend Wonderbook: The Illustrated Guide to Creating Imaginative Fiction for general writing advice. I’ve written in notebooks while building trail in Montana and on Google documents during lunch breaks at a temporary job, so I want to say that environment doesn’t matter as long as I’m in the right headspace. A good playlist certainly helps.

5. What projects or pieces are you working on right now?

Too many, but that’s how I like it. I am trying to find an agent for a kids’ book, torn between revising another kids’ book or writing a new one, and I told the state of Minnesota that I would “write and revise a body of speculative short stories (50,000 words/ten stories minimum) as preparation for publication,” so I guess I’d better get on that!

Congratulations to Maya on being a 2019 Minnesota State Arts Board Artist Initiative Grant recipient! Visit Maya’s website here and follow her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

1. Tell us about your CNF pieces in Volume 21: “Punk House,” “Two Piece,” and “The Basin Set.” How did they come to be?

I wrote “Punk House” at a small poetry retreat up in Washington, on the coast. I went with two women I was only loosely acquainted with. There was something slumber-partyish about that weekend that reminded me of my youth, about sleeping in unfamiliar beds, falling in love with friends, semi-platonically, and becoming expeditiously intimate with near-strangers. “The Basin Set” evolved from a swatch of a longer essay I’d written after my parents’ house burned down in the October 2017 Northern California firestorm. Most of it is based on a photograph and a newspaper clipping, neither of which exist anymore. A couple of summers ago I was walking through my neighborhood and passed a twelve- or thirteen-year old girl in a tube top and lipstick. She reminded me of a specific time, an awkward time. That’s where “Two-Piece” came from.  

2. What excites you as a writer? What turns you off, makes you turn away, or stop reading a piece of writing?

I’m most drawn to language in writing—the diction and the syntax. Its music, its connotations, its ambiguities or precision. Form and content are important too, and I tend to favor those pieces that surprise me or even bewilder me. I am turned off by predictability. If I come across a cliché in something I’m reading I’m tempted to put it down. I don’t though. I want to be proven wrong.

3. What are some themes/topics that are important to your writing?

I read Christine Schutt’s A Day, A Night, Another Day, Summer on a flight to Philadelphia. I haven’t been the same since. Every sentence is so rich. She is a master of language. Virginia Woolf is the original risk-taker, my forever favorite. Maggie Nelson, Sarah Manguso, Noy Holland, Jorie Graham, Leni Zumas, Jenny Erpenbeck—I have so many favorites that all influence me in their different ways.  

One of the poetry classes I took in my MFA used Mark Doty’s The Art of Description as the textbook. It’s one of those slim, perfect Graywolf books. I go back to that time and time again. “To yoke,” Doty says, “within a single figure, the vegetal and the made, or the hard and the soft, or the tiny and the immense, is a means of bringing energy into language through the unexpected collision of elements that seem to meet only in the mind, in the framing field of thinking.” This energy is what I am after, an “unexpected collision” that engages the reader’s (and my own) mind by its syzygies, its disparate components that create tension that is outside of plot or point.  

4. Do you practice any other art forms? If so, do these influence your writing and/or creative process?

I sew and I’m not very good at it despite having studied apparel design for a year. I’m impatient and sloppy, I cut corners wherever I can. But I love doing it. I turn hideous cast-offs or discount fabric into my wardrobe. There’s such a joy in making the ugly pretty, in rescuing something destined for a landfill. I think there’s a related practice here, between my sewing and my writing. In the same way that an unlikely garment or a cheap material can surprise me in its applications, words, used new and unexpectedly, make me excited. This is all a metaphor for possibility.

5. What projects or pieces are you working on right now?

I am currently working on a memoir about wildfires and drug addiction and control and lack of control and god.

Follow Karleigh on Instagram.

The Association of Writers & Writing Programs (AWP)’s annual Conference & Bookfair is the largest literary conference in North America and one of the biggest events on the calendar for writers, publishers, editors, teachers, and students. It’s a feast of panels, book browsing, networking, readings, offsite events, and catching up with the workings of the literary world, but booking a full schedule each day at AWP can be overwhelming. Feeling slightly engulfed in the hubbub is to be expected, but if enthusiasm is fading to nerves and exhaustion, it’s time to get outside the convention center and out into the city.

After almost five years of attending AWP, I’ve resolved to make time for exploring the city as part of the conference experience next week. Having spent time in Portland over the past two years, I know I’m missing something special if I stay within the halls and walls––so for those who haven’t been to the City of Roses before, here are some easy ideas to get you out and about without needing to create another kind of conference schedule. Most locations are also accessible through the MAX light rail, streetcar, or bus systems.

NOURISHMENT FOR BODY AND SPIRIT

Portland is known for its coffee, and Stumptown Coffee is one of the classic roasters with multiple shops in Portland. The atmosphere in the Stark Street location is relaxing and chill, with the Ace Hotel’s lobby open for lounge-style seating. It’s also across the street from Living Room Theaters (341 SW Tenth Avenue), which offers coffee, wine, beer, popcorn, candy, and a mouth-watering menu for enjoyment in the café/lounge or from your seat during a movie. (I recommend the ‘Dial M for Mushrooms Melt’ with a side salad.) The food is great, the seats are comfy, and it’s a wonderful haven from the hectic nature of AWP.

If you are looking for donuts, Coco Donuts and Coffee’s Downtown location (814 SW 6th Avenue) offers a feast of sugary treats that woo the taste buds from the first bite. You can’t go wrong with any selection, but the lavender-glazed donut is the kind of treat you’ll remember with a smile for a long time. Be warned, though––donuts sell out quickly, so a morning visit is preferable.

BOOKS

I know, I know, AWP is all about books. Why go outside to see more? Well, Powell’s City of Books’s flagship store (1005 W Burnside St.) is a legend among bookstores and the city block of books is best appreciated from within.Yet it’s not the only one in the area the worth making the trek across the Willamette River to peruse. Floating World Comics (400 NW Couch St.) is both an impressive comic shop, book shop, small publisher, and zine haven. Local artists and writers often contribute their work directly to the store’s shelves, making the relatively small shop space a world apart. For a showcase of the creative and quirky spirit cherished in Portland, this is a must see spot close to the Oregon Convention Center.

MUSEUMS

For those who enjoy a good wander through museums, Portland does not disappoint. The Oregon Museum of Science and Industry (OMSI) (1945 SE Water Ave) has a number of exhibits, and currently features “The Science Behind Pixar.” OMSI is also home to the Kendall Planetarium and offers tours of the USS Blueback. The Oregon Maritime Museum (198 SW Naito Pkwy) is the closest museum to AWP’s venue, offering tours of Portland, the last operating sternwheel steam tug in the United States.

In addition, the Portland Art Museum (1219 SW Park Ave) has two big exhibits on display––Modern American Realism, offering highlights from the Smithsonian American Art Museum’s permanent Sara Roby Foundation Collection, and the map is not the territory, an inaugural exhibition featuring regional artists exploring place and boundaries. It is, in the words of the museum, “a generative conversation about our connections to the land, efforts toward decolonization, bringing indigenous values to the forefront, and a celebration of the region’s kinship.”

NATURAL SPACES

Portland’s nickname as the City of Roses comes in part from the International Rose Test Garden (400 SW Kingston Ave), the oldest official and continuously operated public rose test garden in the United States. The garden is home to over 10,000 rose bushes with over 650 varieties, but the real treat of the garden is the ability to walk along the bushes (for free) and admire the infinite range of colors and characteristics showcased with each rose. Take time to walk among the roses and admire the views of the city, before heading to the nearby Portland Japanese Garden (611 SW Kingston Ave).

The Japanese Garden is a place to go to with a generous stretch of hours and a spirit of pilgrimage, as the silence and peace of the gardens convey tranquility extending beyond natural beauty. Watching the koi fish in the Strolling Pond Garden, contemplating the swirling patterns in the Flat Garden and Sand and Stone Garden, and observing the twists of time in the bonsai trees on the Ellie M. Hill Bonsai Terrace will leave you feeling rejuvenated. By the time you depart the garden, you’ll be ready to return to the conference and take in the knowledge, ideas, and opportunities that will charge your work and writing long after those three days are done.

For more AWP tips, check out AWP’s official attendee guide and our list of contributor and editor panels at the conference, and be sure to stop by Booths #3062/3064 in the Bookfair to say hello!

Author:

1. Tell us about your fiction piece, “The Harlow Postcards,” in Volume 21. How did it come to be?

As an Iowan by birth I had always been interested in the actress Jean Seberg, another native Iowan, and created an imaginary interview with her. I knew nothing about the earlier Jean whose last name Harlow stands for the whole. An Old Hollywood sex symbol, the original blonde bombshell, I assumed she couldn’t compare to the trilingual, intellectual Seberg. A quick google search cued me to Harlow’s uniqueness, and then I read all the Harlow biographies I could find and was dumbfounded to learn that she too was a reader and achingly intelligent. In that era the ironic fate of the dumb blonde was to be brilliant. Before my research I had no idea she died at age 26 of uremic poisoning after acting in 42 movies, having had 2 abortions, having been twice divorced and once widowed. She suffered from a suffocating and manipulative mother, as well as her own passivity. I identified strongly with her passivity and set to work trying to open a conversation with a ghost.

2. What excites you as a writer? What turns you off, makes you turn away or stop reading a piece of writing?

Language, imagery, intensity are my holy three. I’m a reader in love with the power and beauty of words. It’s glorious to be in love with something that embodies the best in human culture. You can’t buy the talent to write Bonnie Jo Campbell’s darkly humorous American Salvage or the electrifying work Darcey Steinke has accomplished in Suicide Blonde. Sybille Bedford’s Jigsaw is infinitely more valuable than a gold train or a 1-percenter’s fortune. Nothing can buy an inspired poem, story, or novel.

Recently, I judged a regional contest for books (in the fiction category) published during the prior year. Some of the books had been published by major houses, one being a Pulitzer Prize finalist, others hailed from prestigious fine arts presses, and many were self-published. Three-quarters of the entries, both highbrow and lowbrow, could be classified as thrillers, and while some achieved excellence and deconstructed the genre, others followed the conventions, drearily. I wonder if even serious writers are so anxious for readers that they turn to the thriller genre. The category is a tricky one as the matter-of-fact language tends not to reach me and the descriptions are often too familiar. After finishing the best of them there is no desire to return to the prose again, whereas my fictional favorites I read and reread. The genre is comforting to many readers and sells, so there’s a great attraction in the world of literary writing where there are too many delicious offerings that suffer lack of readers.

The year a certain book excited the publishing world, I heard co-workers talk about it being the first book they’d bought and read in years. The subject matter of sadomasochism has been handled beautifully by a number of literary writers, so the subject matter can definitely be character-driven and fascinating. When a writer friend lent me her copy of the book, as she too wanted to see what the fuss was about, she called it an S&M Gothic romance. She managed to force it down and I tried but couldn’t persevere past the first chapter. The descriptions, the language, the dialogue, the everything fell flat as if a machine had written it and the only element allowed to live was the cliché. These are the kinds of things that cause me to stop reading.

3. What books, writers, art, or artists inspire you and your work? Do–or have–you had any mentors in your writing life?

I have books everywhere but my special shelf consists of about 30 favorites including Jill Hoffman’s Jilted, Cynthia Cruz’s The Glimmering Room, Stefan Zweig’s The Post Office Girl, Charles Bowden’s Blues for Cannibals, Jean Rhys’ After Leaving Mr. Mackenzie, and Rosalind Palermo Stevenson’s The Absent. My earliest mentor was the poet Philip Dacey, who I studied under as an undergraduate and who became a lifelong friend. William Packard, founding editor of The New York Quarterly and a truly overlooked American original, was also my teacher (albeit much later) and a mentor. His masterpiece, the “Ty Cobb Poem,” written in the long-form tradition, is a gift to literature. For years I’ve attended Mudfish editor Jill Hoffman’s salon-style Glass Table Workshop in the heart of Tribeca. Poet, novelist, and artist, her work integrates those previously mentioned three elements of language, imagery, and intensity. We meet on Wednesday nights, a close group often starting late and going to midnight. Most of us are longtime writers working in the jobs unrelated to literature. It’s wonderful to gather in Jill’s apartment where her art covers the walls and her enthusiasm and insights are transformative. The candles flicker over the bread and cheese. The world melts away and the interior world opens.

4. What does your creative process look like? How does the environment you are in shape your work or where do you like to write?

In the beginning of my writing life I smoked and drank coffee until I jittered. Now I make do with green tea and gum. I still jitter but not with a hard-edged caffeine high. On weeknights I write in the deserted office where the afterhours are hushed. My muse is a solitary one. Aloneness is her one requirement. Other writers have muses that appear to them best in the presence of others. I envy those who sit in the Olive Garden or at The Bean, hunched over their laptops and able to concentrate. Quiet isn’t easy to come by in Manhattan. On weekends I write in the red room of the East Village walkup I share with the poet Rob Cook and our feline Vallejo. The red room is stacked with books and stuffed with clothes, as it’s a closet too.

5. What projects or pieces are you working on right now?

I’ve been working on a hybrid non-fiction manuscript entitled Maximum Compound. Edna Mahan Correctional Facility for Women houses New Jersey’s female violent offenders. Two of the women imprisoned there, Krystal Riordan and Lucy Weems, are longtime correspondents. Their friendship is storied among the prisoners—almost a thing of wonder. I’m weaving lyricism into the harshness of that world. The two women eat mac n’ cheese, shower together after work, hold dance contests and laugh. On nights Lucy can’t sleep, Krystal swaddles her, wrapping her in sheets and blankets.

I’m also working on the prose poem fictions that will make up the Jean Harlow / Bessie Smith Postcards. The two icons represent two worlds, one white, one black, and two art forms, one an actress, the other a singer extraordinaire. I find myself thinking about the importance of friendship and its ability to enlarge and anchor us. In both projects friendship seems thematically central.

Visit Stephanie’s website, and check out the journal Skidrow Penthouse, which Stephanie co-edits and runs with Rob Cook, as well as the affiliated publishing collective Rain Mountain Press.