I grew up in an Air Force family, moving
seven times in my first thirteen years. I attended the University of Florida
(BS journalism, MA English, MEd education) and taught at Gainesville High for
four years before attending a seminary near Boston. I subsequently lost my
faith and began writing creatively. My stories have appeared in the Tampa
Review, Mad Hatter’s Review, Eunoia Review, flashquake,.Vestal Review, and Kennesaw
Review. My novel Wire Mother Monkey Baby comes out in
November from outpost19, a small, independent publisher in San Francisco.
From our brief
conversation I find a thread of similarity in that as a writer you want
attention, but “not too much attention.” This is something I find many writers
share in common. Maybe it’s related to the exhibitionist/introvert impulse, a
pull both ways that creates creative tension perhaps. Can you speak to this?
Having my work recognized is attention enough for me. It’s too
tempting for writers to want the limelight on themselves rather than the work.
Our celebrity-oriented culture is all too willing to provide it. The ideas for
my novels came to me in dreams, and much of my other work is influenced by
things outside of conscious control. It would feel dishonest to take too much
credit. I mostly sublimate my exhibitionist leanings into my writing, mostly
through humor – though occasionally a manic side sneaks out in real life.
Do you set
goals for yourself as a writer? If so, what kinds of goals?
My only goal is try to write every day. I’m not very good at
keeping it. Still, I find that if
my writing time has been productive, being away from it for a few
days is often productive, too. That deeper place where a story originates has
had time to ruminate, and it weighs in. I end up having a better sense of where
the story is going, what it’s about, or an answer to a specific problem I
didn’t have before.
Is writing for
you a solitary process? Again, the writers I know who are also extraverts
struggle with the solitary aspect, yet are driven to write, which is by nature,
solitary. Are you as comfortable in your writing space as you are reading in
public? Do you feel the same person writes who also reads in public? If not,
please elaborate on any persona you feel you have had to evolve as a writer.
The act of living feels like a solitary process to me. I’m an
introvert, probably even more anti-social and reclusive than most. I don’t work
a real job, so I struggle to find meaningful time around people. I go to cafes
to write in order not to overdo the isolation. I’ve only read in public a
couple of times, but that will change when my novel comes out. I’m hoping to
channel my Inner Clown, my more extroverted side, and bring to life some of the
humor that comes out in my writing.
Where, if
anywhere, do you see the role of spirituality in your writing today? I
understand you were religious at one point in your life. How has spiritual
progression/transformation affected your work as a writer?
I’m attempting to convey something more spiritual in the novel I’m
writing now. There’s a lot of anger in my first novel. It holds a mirror to
some disconcerting trends in our society, courtesy of advanced technology and
an increasingly unfettered capitalism. My new work reflects my advancing age,
and distance from a disillusioning experience at an Evangelical seminary. I try
to show an individual who, although flawed and suffering, manages to find
purpose and meaning by tapping into something higher. It’s more hopeful.
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