[Post originally written in September. This is the purest evidence of how thoroughly this semester’s gotten away from me.]
So many happy things to announce that I don’t know where to begin. I won a prize! The complete story will appear in an anthology out from Mixer Publishing this year. I am particularly pleased because I very much like Paul Tremblay’s work, as well as the post-genre aesthetic that Mixer cultivates. 1.
Also, my work will be appearing in the September/October joint issue of Matter. I’ll post a link as soon as it goes live. 2.
Last night I went to a book launch party 3., and the weekend before I went to see Neko case. It’s been (much like this post) one thing after another. I’ve completed one round of physical therapy and am nearly through a second round; I’ve changed pretty much all of my writing routines so as to better protect my body 4. It seems to be working: I’m back to writing and revising consistently, on top of teaching (which is always a joy) 5. I have no idea where I’ll be or what’s I’ll be doing in the next few years, but I love when I get to do now, and maybe that’s enough? 6.
1. This really was thrilling. After exchanging a series of giddy emails, I wound up going out for coffee with one of the editors, Rebekah, and we had a fabulous conversation about the state of creative nonfiction, affirmative culture, and the backstory of how she and Steven Owen started up Mixer. They are good people. I’ll likely be giving a reading at AWP Seattle as part of a Mixer lineup. Can’t wait.
2. This piece has been out for a while now, and I’m terribly happy it found such a good home. Thank you to Virginia, Glenn, and Michelle for curating such an excellent and thought-provoking journal.
3. My friend and colleague Laura Krughoff’s book, My Brother’s Name, came out in September, and she’s been book touring like a mad thing. The book itself is brilliant. From a writeup that I posted over on Facebook: “The two POV characters are the caretakers of a schizophrenic, and the book explores how their lives are shaped by him, for good sometimes, but ultimately mostly for ill. He’s never given a POV of his own. Which is to say, I found the book to be extremely emotionally accurate to my experience. I was a well-intentioned but clueless wannabee caretaker of someone whose mental illness was far beyond my powers to help. I probably made things much much worse, actually. The book’s mostly about what it means to have your identity shaped by a desire to caretake someone who’s desperately ill. It spoke to my experience, and I’m grateful it exists.”
4. I completed two months of physical therapy and now have a rigid routine involving wrist braces, icing, painkillers, and timed breaks. The pain is mostly managed now, and I’m back to writing consistently. Three new stories drafted this semester (two of them already run through Luis Urrea’s workshop), plus revisions to older work. I’m relieved that the new routine seems to be working, and I’m slowly ramping back up to my pre-cubital tunnel rate of production.
5. I’m teaching a fiction workshop, and I’m in love. My students are phenomenal: hyper-engaged, thoughtful, willing to take risks, but also (and perhaps most importantly) able to offer kind criticism to one another. I’ve been putting more time in to my teaching than is probably reasonable, but who knows when I’ll get to teach fiction again? I’m going to savor every second.
6. I’m on the academic job market, which is a time-consuming endeavor, nevermind the paralyzing fear of the unknown that comes with it. My writing life has never been anything but a cobbled-together combination of hopes, dreams, fears, a barely livable wage, and a troughful of elbow grease. This process is just more of same.