What are you reading these days? Do you love/hate/feel neutral about it, and why?

 

Because I’m trying to write a novel, I’m trying to read mostly fiction nowadays, although I still consider myself an essayist at heart. The last novel I read and really enjoyed was Madwoman by Chelsea Bieker. It’s a literary thriller, and the story is so masterfully crafted that the twists and turns are utterly believable. There’s a lot of humor there too, which contrasts nicely with the serious themes at the heart of the book. And the sentences are so clean! My most recent nonfiction read was Stay True, a memoir by Hua Hsu. It’s a beautifully earnest meditation on friendship, grief, and cultural connection and disconnection. 

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Have you read a passage of writing that deeply shifts something inside you, if so, please share it with us? 

 

My father (who, ironically, is the focus of my piece in The Champagne Journal) recently died, so I have been reading a lot about grief. The following passage is from Sloane Crosley’s memoir Grief is for People: “He is my favorite person, the one who somehow sees me both as I want to be seen and as I actually am…” Although Crosley is referring to a friend who died, that’s exactly how I felt about my father. 

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When you are working on a piece, what inspirations do you draw from?

 

Music and film. I have a novel playlist that I listen to on repeat. Nothing evokes mood and emotion for me like music does. Music can express so many intangibles that writing just cannot. So, music is the unreachable bar of expression that I strive for in my writing. I prefer atmosphere over action in films. I like my films gritty and dark, and a great soundtrack is nonnegotiable. Some of my favorites are The Last Showgirl (2024), The Iron Claw (2023), and Mulholland Drive (2001). 

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What craft elements are you most interested in/attached to within your writing?

 

I love the challenge of getting seemingly disparate ideas and concepts to fit together in an essay. Usually, the element tying these things together is a core metaphor. Writing like this is kind of like swirling the drain. It’s (sometimes frustratingly) a non-linear process. 

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Who/what are some of your writing obsessions, and why? 

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I don’t really write like this (although I aspire to try someday), but parataxis always grips me. I learned the name for this concept from T Kira Madden, during a writing workshop at The Juniper Institute. In my limited understanding, parataxis creates meaning through the accretion and juxtaposition of short clauses and sentences with minimal use of coordinating conjunctions. Here’s an example from an extremely paratactic novel, Animal by Lisa Taddeo: “It turned out he could not do without me. He likened his relationship with me to Icarus. He was Icarus and I was the sun. Lines like these, which I wholly believed and still do, made me sick to my stomach. What kind of a girl wants to be a sun over a country she doesn’t even want to visit.” I find that there is so much life in all the invisible connections the reader has to make. Each clause is like a little surprise puzzle piece that fits perfectly, yet isn’t always predictable. Parataxis keeps me engaged.

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What are some ways in which you remain productive/find time to be a writer? 

  

I do my best thinking away from the page, which is super helpful when I don’t have a lot of time to sit at the computer. I turn a problem over in my mind when I’m doing dishes or walking my dogs. If I think about anything long and hard enough, I always find a solution. 

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Tell us what your writing space looks like.

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I prefer to work away from my house—at libraries, coffee shops, etc. Places I can put my ear buds in and completely zone out.  

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What are some ways in which you get through a block in your creative work?

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Two things: 1) Consuming more art and literature and 2) “listening” to the writing I’ve already done on a project. Going back to the beginning and rereading usually leads me to a solution that is already set up, inherently. I think, too, something about rereading while thinking about how to move forward turns my brain off in a way that lets me stop overcomplicating a problem. 

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How do you navigate the experience of submissions/rejections/acceptances?

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I have a pretty good sense of whether something I write is up to par. If I really believe in a piece, I’ll keep trying until it lands somewhere. If I try for a year and nothing comes of it, then it’s probably time for a revision. Usually, though, by the time I submit, I’ve revised so much that I’m nearly sick of the piece. I also remind myself that editors have particular tastes. Just because a piece isn’t accepted somewhere doesn’t mean it’s bad. Maybe it’s just not the right fit. 

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Regarding your piece(s) in Issue 04, what does it mean for/to you and/or how did the creation of it come about? 

 

"The Man in the Moon" sprung from a time when I was bursting with anticipatory grief. I wrote this essay in January of 2024, and my father died in December of 2024. His health had been declining for over a decade at the time I wrote it, and I had reached a point where I could no longer contain the dichotomy between my love for him and my fear of his death. The aftermath of our every meeting was haunted by the specter of his imminent death. I needed an outlet, so I wrote the essay in a two-day burst. I hope this essay captures the immense influence my father, both despite and because of his complexity, had on my life. 

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Do you have a recent publication/project you would like us to highlight? 

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My most recent essay, "Dark Matter," was published in issue 21.2 of The Cincinnati Review. There is a sample available here, and the issue is available for purchase here. 

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What is something you would like to share with other writers out there? 

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You’re the first one who can give up on your work, and you’re the first one who can believe in your work. Let the belief lead you.