publication news!

Wanted to point out that I added a new widget in the column to the right: Publications.

But I can't do so unceremoniously.

The last several months without a full-time paying job have afforded me the chance to work full time on my writing. This work has included finishing new stories and honing and submitting stories I've had on reserve for years, which has paid off in a couple acceptances recently.

"Through the Viewfinder" will be published online at Bluestem Magazine in June. I stopped by their table at AWP in February and picked up a postcard for their postcard contest. Whatever you could write on the back and mail in would be entered, and my little flash fiction piece was selected as one of the winners to be published in their journal. I've had nothing but positive experiences with Bluestem. Some of my friends have had lovely pieces published there. When Roxane Gay was the fiction editor, she sent me a very kind and personalized rejection email for a story, including suggestions for improving it. If you're not a writer, you need to know that this in itself is cause for celebration.

A story that I've been holding on to for two years has finally found a home at Poplorish, the literary journal of the Old Growth Northwest literary organization. "The Rust Red Feather" was germinated in Massachusetts, hatched in Georgia, nurtured in Kentucky, and finally flew the nest in Washington. I'm a proud mama. Old Growth seems to have an ethos that I can get behind, supporting the arts and artists from the region.

I'll update the links to the right when my stories are live and add to the list as more stories are published. I've been fortunate for this time to focus on my writing more, and I hope to continue the practice as I look for and dive into more full-time (paying) work.

Chatting with the Postmasters

I had the pleasure of speaking with Audrey and Lacy of The Postmasters Podcast about writing, running, and writers' workshops. Our conversation was a bit of a kick in my own pants to get back to my neglected novel. If you know me or read this blog, you know I've been in a state of transition lately. I'm so ready to dive back into my writing.

Subscribe to this podcast on iTunes, or check out their website. The episode featuring yours truly airs December 2. In the meantime, catch up on all the other episodes to date. You won't be disappointed!

marriage thoughts from a short story

A marriage unraveled. Alix Ohlin's title story, "Signs and Wonders," follows a familiar middle-aged couple whose only son is grown and self-sufficient and they discover they've been unhappy for years. Kathleen and Terence are both tenured professors of English literature at the same university, where the only thing they have in common is their "desire to spite their colleagues."

What struck me about their early characterization was not only how selfish they are, but how much they feel like they own the other person. In departmental meetings, Kathleen believes she has to defend Terence's opinions; at home, she thinks he prefers her to be mute audience for his monologues: "Anything she said in response, even her agreement, was liable to piss him off, and he'd storm away from the table, never clearing or washing the dishes, to scour the cable channels."

And later, when they realize they both want out of the marriage, Ohlin reveals Kathleen's former sense of ownership: "Terence said he wanted to take early retirement and drive a motorcycle to Central America. What a cliché, Kathleen thought. Then, realizing his behavior no longer implicated her, that she didn't need to be concerned, she told him it sounded like a great idea."

Terence has a friend, Dave, whom Kathleen finds vulgar. "What Terence saw in him was a mystery, but she no longer—thank God—felt required to plumb its depths." Kathleen realizes with the relief of someone almost free from a miserable marriage, that she doesn't have to own Terence's silly behaviors or undignified friends.

Ohlin has hit upon the heart of a failed marriage with excellent marksmanship. She shows Kathleen and Terence's unhappiness in ways many married people can relate to. They are both deeply disappointed with the mundane ways in which their lives have diverged.

But reading about Kathleen and Terence got me thinking: the sense of ownership over one's spouse, which they both demonstrated, is antiquated and unfair.

I've felt it, though. It's all too easy to live this way. Person A feels person B's habits or hobbies or character quirks reflect badly on person A. Person B takes offense if person A expresses a different opinion. Why can't we let each other be our own people?

When two people marry, they are in love with a person + dreams, expectations, fictions they've told themselves about each other, yes. That's unavoidable. But at the start, they fall in love with another person. Someone who is interesting, refreshing, attractive to them precisely because they are not themselves. Why then do we try to shape the other person into our own image after marriage?

Once I realized this, somewhere in the last nine years, I became far less anxious and uptight. I realized that Andrew had the good sense to let me be my own person from the get-go. Sometimes now one or the other of us will look at the other person and say with fresh insight and a smile, "I just remembered that you're a different person from me."

It's been good to remember that as often as possible. And I think it might have helped Kathleen and Terence (I know they're fictional people). Ohlin's story is excellent; go out and find the book. Revel in the surprising way she explores the rest of Kathleen & Terence's marriage. Enjoy the fifteen other heart-breaking, hilarious, and perceptive stories in the book. And don't forget to let your loved ones be their own people.

weekend fiction podcasts

For the weekend, I thought I'd share two short stories (in audio version!) that I came across this week. I highly recommend subscribing to both podcasts--especially if you love stories. 

The first one, "They're Made Out of Meat" is a short story by Terry Bisson dramatized for "radio" by The Truth podcast.

The second is Jessamyn West's "The Lesson," which author Sherman Alexie read for the New Yorker fiction podcast.

What struck me about both "They're Made Out of Meat" and "The Lesson" is they're good stories. Even if you don't feel the way I do about veganism, you'll enjoy the stories just as much. What made them special to me was the way I heard them as an animal-lover. As a person who has chosen not to take part in a system that treats animals as objects. Both stories speak to this choice, but in different, subtle ways, and without being didactic (in fact, Terry Bisson says plainly he's not a vegetarian). 

What makes them good is that they re-frame, within the process of storytelling, our assumptions and expectations, challenging us to think differently about the subject than we might have before. This is true of all great fiction, and part of why I love it so much. Great fiction teaches us more truth than facts, statistics, polls, and sound bites ever can.

Happy weekend and happy listening!