I’m in the New F(r)iction Issue!

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My lifelong writing goal has always been simple: walk into a Barnes and Noble and see my name on a book. Well, I’m almost there 🙂

Instead of seeing my name on a book, I can see my name in one. F(r)iction’s newest issue, Oceans, is out, and unlike every other print magazine I’ve been published in—which were only available online—F(r)iction is stocked in Barnes and Nobles stores across the country! They already sent me my contributor copies, but I still had to go see my name in person.

As you can see, F(r)iction is not your ordinary literary magazine. Each issue is themed, and each piece has custom art created for it. I got a behind the scenes peek at their whole process and it is crazy cool.

I first saw F(r)iction three years ago at AWP in Seattle, and I knew immediately that if there was any magazine that I wanted a piece in, it was F(r)iction. I didn’t realize the issues were themed initially, and the first piece I sent in got rejected. But when I saw the Oceans theme coming I knew exactly what story I wanted to tell. It was mere days after submitting that they responded and wanted to work with me.

I don’t want to give any spoilers, but the story is based on a character from a novel I’ve outlined. I changed him a little so it made sense for a short story, but the novel’s character is a marine geologist who makes a world changing discovery near some thermal vents. For the short story I took the implications of his discovery, shaped them into a character, seasoned them with relationship drama, then let it simmer until the story was fully cooked.

I do have to thank Nate and Helen over at F(r)iction. Especially Nate. Without their input this story wouldn’t have the same oomph. We writers always have blind spots and they did an amazing job shining a light on what I was overlooking.

So head to your local Barnes and Noble and find it in their newsstand section (You may want to call first to see if they have it, the only location in my area that did was the Mall of America location). Or order it online if that’s easier. My story isn’t the only fun read in the issue either. You’ll find my story alongside work by Charlie Jane Anders, James Bradley, Dr. Ocean, and other brilliant contributors. It’s a gorgeous issue—go check it out.

Publication Announcement!… A Poem?

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I’ve always said poetry and I don’t get along.

Unless we’re talking about Shel Silverstein or Lewis Carroll. Maybe some Wallace Stevens.

Anyway, poetry wasn’t something I ever wanted to write.

But this spring, I was at a reading and heard someone (apologies for forgetting exactly who) perform a poem about Kobe Bryant—and I got inspired.

Around the same time, Ichiro Suzuki had just been elected to the MLB Hall of Fame. And for some mind-boggling reason, one voter decided not to check the box. Ichiro missed a unanimous induction by one vote. One. Vote.

I won’t go on a rant about how idiotic that is (because you’d be reading for the next half hour). Instead, I’ll share the poem I wrote about that travesty—hot off the press as of this morning.

It’s a short read. I hope you enjoy it.

https://www.underreviewlit.com/new-blog/unanimous

The End is in Sight…. Farewell Hamline

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This is it. One more day and I’ll have my MFA in hand and a noticeable amount of time now available to write things of my choosing. I don’t want that to sound like I’m complaining about the work I did in the MFA—many of my published short pieces came directly from assignments. But I do have drafts of four different novels that I haven’t had time to go back to, so this summer will include a fair amount of editing and revising.

But I’m just about done. Tonight I’ll read a portion of my thesis to what’ll probably be a medium-sized group of people, and then commencement is tomorrow. I even get one of those fancy hoods. Ooooh. 🙂

It’s crazy to think about what’s happened since I enrolled in the program. The plan was always to do one class a semester, but then covid hit and lockdown plus a two-year-old makes all plans go out the window. When I started, my son was one. He turned seven last month. When I started, I was working at a finance job I’d been at for over a decade. Now, three jobs later, I’m interviewing for teaching positions. When I started, Trump was president. Now… oh. Shit.

My first published piece resulted from one of my classes making me write creative non-fiction. Several fiction publications followed, and just a few days ago I heard that a poem—yes, a poem—of mine was accepted into a magazine. I didn’t write it as part of MFA coursework, but I did so while surrounded by MFA people.

I doubt I’ll divorce myself entirely from the program. Reading for Water-Stone will hopefully be a thing this winter, and the MFAC (children’s lit MFA) program has lecture passes that I’ve already made use of. Not to mention the people.

There aren’t many places where you can find people who can give good, quality feedback on your writing. I was lucky enough to find some in my wife and best friend, but they are just two people, and, as I learned after writing a horror story, they can’t be good readers for everything. But when you leave with your MFA, you also leave with a community.

I’m hoping life both will and won’t change. I hope it will so I can get those books finished. 🙂 I hope it won’t in that I might stop by Hamline’s Creative Writing house and chat with Meghan or I could attend events at which alums and students are reading. However it works out, the MFA was a wonderful experience and has transformed me from a person who sometimes writes into a writer.

Accidental Inspiration

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Hey all. This’ll be a quick one. While at AWP I was talking with a horror writer and we were sharing setting ideas. We both have personal history in rural settings, and after I described my setting and a general idea to go with it, he full body shivered and told me to write the story. ASAP.

Now that thesis is in, I think that’ll be a good mental reset before I finish drafting the novel. I’d been thinking about the theme of it, and the tone, and my mind went back to a Stephen King story I’d read ages ago, The Girl who Loved Tom Gordon. In my mind it was a short story, probably because I’d read the pop-up book version. Lo and behold, the actual book was on my bookshelf. Points for being a book collector.

So I grab the book, stick it in my bag for the hotel (my wife has a work event in Kentucky and I’m on baby duty), with the expectation to carve out some time to work on it. Then I see this in the hotel:

It’s not exactly the Overlook Hotel, but the vibes are definitely there. Here I am, planning to read Stephen King, and I walk into this hotel. To top it off, I go into the bathroom, and the shower looks a lot like the one Rosamund Pike uses in Gone Girl to wash off all the blood.

I wanted to write a horror story. Looks like I’ve got plenty of inspiration to work with. Maybe instead of sitting in the lobby downstairs or at the desk in the room, I’ll just camp out in the hallway, cross-legged, and let the periphery mess with my head as my fingers work.

Until next time.

Also, what’s with these libraries in Kentucky?! I feel like they’re doing them very right, or very wrong.

On the Streets in Santa Monica, and Thesis too.

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Two weeks ago I flew to LA to attend this year’s AWP Conference and Bookfair. AWP itself was about the same as usual: some good panels (yay Juan Carlos Reyes), some not-so-good panels (I’m too nice to name names), and too many books finding their way into my backpack (who’s excited for Gods?!).

A few AWP firsts:

  • Someone asked if I’d be interested is doing a reading next year 🙂
  • One of the people I split a hotel with head-butt me in their sleep 😦
  • I wrote and submitted a piece while at the conference 🙂
  • I took an extra day strictly for research 🙂

I mentioned in an earlier post that I had a conundrum with my current project. It takes place in LA and I started writing the pieces before last year’s fires. I had no idea how I should address them in-story. So I took the opportunity to talk with locals and get see what the fire was like for them, how it affected the areas I was writing about, and from there I had to make my decision.

One thing that worked in my favor, specifically regarding the ability to talk to people uninterrupted, was that it was overcast and a little drizzly in the morning. That meant I only had to try a little to not bump into people as I walked on the Santa Monica pier. I talked with one of the employees there, because the tourists outnumber locals 99 to 1, and he said on nice day everyone on the boardwalk is shoulder to shoulder the whole way through.

From the pier I needed to head to Montana Avenue, which wasn’t too far away. This was, of course, after walking a fair amount to find the bus to Santa Monica and walking along and around the pier. I’d read up on the area online, but seeing it in person was incredibly beneficial. One, I didn’t realize how much foot traffic there’d be. I’m used to Grand Ave in St. Paul, where parking is a nightmare because nearly everyone drives there and so much of the walking is to and from vehicles. Not the case on Montana Ave.

As with the pier, nearly everyone was a tourist. The only locals I found were employees of the stores, old people sitting outside of coffee shops, and shoppers at Whole Foods. I made the rounds, stopping at a few specific locations that I plan on incorporating into the story, and got a much better idea of the pulse of those dozen or so blocks.

The most interesting thing I found wasn’t something described online at all. Approaching from the west, the shops spring up almost out of nowhere and look new and fancy. Approaching from the east is the same experience. But there’s a little section in a middle, only a few blocks long, where the buildings, though still nice, have a distinct ma and pa shop feel to them. I didn’t feel like they were tailored to the trendy elite of the area.

My exploration kept me going for a while. A long, long while. At one point I checked my steps and swore out loud when I saw it read 20000 steps. By the end of the day, I’d walked nearly fourteen miles.

Those who personally know me know I’m not in bad shape. But they also know I’m not in walk fourteen miles in one day out of nowhere shape. Oh man did I hurt afterward. But it was worth it. I got home, used my research to update my thesis, and dropped off the printed copies this past Monday. I may have killed a tree in the process of printing them, but it’s for a good cause.

Now I wait a month until my thesis defense. I’m not worried, but waiting that long for anything can be a bit much. So maybe I’ll take a mental break and write a short story. Horror sounds good…

Until next time.