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What's the truth and what's a lie? What's a memoir, what's a novel, and what if both are just a series of “prose blocks”? This conversation between Sarah Manguso and Tess McNulty takes up questions of writing and veracity, trauma and memory. Sarah Manguso is the author of nine books, including three memoirs. Her first novel, Very Cold People, was named a finalist for the PEN/Jean Stein Book Award, and her second novel, Liars, is forthcoming. Tess and Sarah discuss how the threshold between truth and fiction is often used to minimize writing by women and how characters can achieve escape velocity against the pull of violence and abuse. We learn that Sarah doesn't imagine an audience when she writes—instead, writing articulates something felt in the body, something that remains “uncomfortable until it is so articulated.” From the Yankee thrift of book design and the writing of front matter, acknowledgements, and Sarah's brilliant titles, we move to 70s-era typography and wordplay with the answer to Season 7's signature question. Mentions: By Sarah Manguso: Very Cold People, 300 Arguments, Ongoingness: The End of a Diary, The Two Kinds of Decay and Hard to Admit and Harder to Escape in One Hundred and Forty Five Stories in A Small Box by Deb Olin Unferth, Sarah Manguso, and Dave Eggers Hilary Mantel Lord Byron, “If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad,” from an 1821 letter published in Volume 8 of Byron's Letters and Journals, edited by Leslie A. Marchand. Ellen Raskin, The Westing Game Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network
What's the truth and what's a lie? What's a memoir, what's a novel, and what if both are just a series of “prose blocks”? This conversation between Sarah Manguso and Tess McNulty takes up questions of writing and veracity, trauma and memory. Sarah Manguso is the author of nine books, including three memoirs. Her first novel, Very Cold People, was named a finalist for the PEN/Jean Stein Book Award, and her second novel, Liars, is forthcoming. Tess and Sarah discuss how the threshold between truth and fiction is often used to minimize writing by women and how characters can achieve escape velocity against the pull of violence and abuse. We learn that Sarah doesn't imagine an audience when she writes—instead, writing articulates something felt in the body, something that remains “uncomfortable until it is so articulated.” From the Yankee thrift of book design and the writing of front matter, acknowledgements, and Sarah's brilliant titles, we move to 70s-era typography and wordplay with the answer to Season 7's signature question. Mentions: By Sarah Manguso: Very Cold People, 300 Arguments, Ongoingness: The End of a Diary, The Two Kinds of Decay and Hard to Admit and Harder to Escape in One Hundred and Forty Five Stories in A Small Box by Deb Olin Unferth, Sarah Manguso, and Dave Eggers Hilary Mantel Lord Byron, “If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad,” from an 1821 letter published in Volume 8 of Byron's Letters and Journals, edited by Leslie A. Marchand. Ellen Raskin, The Westing Game Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/literary-studies
What's the truth and what's a lie? What's a memoir, what's a novel, and what if both are just a series of “prose blocks”? This conversation between Sarah Manguso and Tess McNulty takes up questions of writing and veracity, trauma and memory. Sarah Manguso is the author of nine books, including three memoirs. Her first novel, Very Cold People, was named a finalist for the PEN/Jean Stein Book Award, and her second novel, Liars, is forthcoming. Tess and Sarah discuss how the threshold between truth and fiction is often used to minimize writing by women and how characters can achieve escape velocity against the pull of violence and abuse. We learn that Sarah doesn't imagine an audience when she writes—instead, writing articulates something felt in the body, something that remains “uncomfortable until it is so articulated.” From the Yankee thrift of book design and the writing of front matter, acknowledgements, and Sarah's brilliant titles, we move to 70s-era typography and wordplay with the answer to Season 7's signature question. Mentions: By Sarah Manguso: Very Cold People, 300 Arguments, Ongoingness: The End of a Diary, The Two Kinds of Decay and Hard to Admit and Harder to Escape in One Hundred and Forty Five Stories in A Small Box by Deb Olin Unferth, Sarah Manguso, and Dave Eggers Hilary Mantel Lord Byron, “If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad,” from an 1821 letter published in Volume 8 of Byron's Letters and Journals, edited by Leslie A. Marchand. Ellen Raskin, The Westing Game Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/literature
our eco module continues with barn 8 by deb olin unferth as we shift our focus from trees and water toward animal rights. shreds starts the pod like it's the end of the pod as he explains why this book found itself in the module in this location. we talk about all we need (as a people) for the earth to be okay. we discuss how barn 8 aligns with (and differs from) more traditional heist narratives, and how the story subverts expectations about what these narratives typically include. we talk about barn 8 as a book about (chicken) language and (chicken) religion. we rank our favorite fast food chains. (next week, we talk deb olin unferth about her book, her research process, and much more.) reading list for season nine land of milk and honey by c. pam zhang the overstory by richard powers something new under the sun by alexandra kleeman barn 8 by deb olin unferth fever dream by samanta schweblin square wave by mark de silva the glacier by jeff wood the man with the compound eyes by wu ming-yi the deluge by stephen markley drive your plow over the bones of the dead by olga tokarczuk
Notes and Links to Sarah Rose Etter's Work For Episode 223, Pete welcomes Sarah Rose Etter, and the two discuss, among other topics, her early relationship to the written word, formative and transformative writers and writing, her love of writing in translation, her and Pete's shared love of Hemingway's short stories, and seeds for and salient themes related to Ripe, including housing and economic inequalities and realities, depression and anxiety as represented by the book's “black hole,” parental/child relationships, and grief. Sarah Rose Etter is the author of RIPE (published by Scribner), and The Book of X, winner of the 2019 Shirley Jackson Award. Her short fiction collection, Tongue Party, was selected by Deb Olin Unferth to be published as the winner of the 2011 Caketrain Award. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in TIME, Guernica, BOMB, Gulf Coast, The Cut, VICE, and more. She has been awarded residences at the Jack Kerouac House, the Disquiet International program in Portugal, and the Gullkistan Writing Residency in Iceland. In 2017, she was the keynote speaker at the Society for the Study of American Women Writers conference in Bordeaux, France, where she presented on surrealist writing as a mode of feminism. She earned her B.A. in English from Pennsylvania State University and her M.F.A. in Fiction from Rosemont College. She lives in Los Angeles, CA. Buy Ripe Sarah's Website New York Times Review of Ripe by Alexandra Chang NPR Interview At about 2:00, Sarah shouts out the literary landscape and physical landscape At about 2:45, Sarah talks about her childhood relationship with the written word At about 4:30, Pete and Sarah exchange formative stories and writing that opened up analytical and emotional taps, including Hemingway's “Hills Like White Elephants” and “Cat in the Rain,” as well as Plath's “Metaphors” At about 5:40, Sarah talks about how and why she started writing with short stories At about 6:50, Sarah reflects on ideas of obsession with subject matter when writing At about 7:22, Sarah shares a few examples of chill-inducing writing for her as a reader At about 8:55, Sarah discusses contemporary writers who thrill and challenge her: Carmen Maria Machado, Hallie Butler, Kristen Arnett, Melissa Broder, and many works in translation, like Olga T At about 15:00, Sarah discusses seeds for Ripe, including how her personal life and the world's recent issues informed the book At about 19:00, Pete and Sarah talk about grief and sharing At about 22:10, Pete sets the book's exposition, and Sarah gives background on the powerful and meaningful first line of the book At about 25:30, Sarah and Pete compare notes on first draft and heavy editing At about 27:15, The two discuss the black hole, a common symbol in the book At about 29:50, Pete compliments the ways in which Sarah presents the narrator Cassie and the frenzied Silicon Valley lifestyle At about 30:55, Sarah discusses the ways in which Cassie is the person she is due to her parents' influences At about 33:00, Sarah charts and breaks down a bit of her writing outlook and style and schedule At about 34:30, Sarah references Parasite and Uncut Gems as examples of storytelling and escalating tensions as so powerful At about 35:50, Sarah talks about her black hole research and earlier permutations of the black hole and its place in the book At about 37:50, Sarah responds to Pete's questions about a possible history of depression within Cassie's family and without At about 40:10, Sarah discusses the strengths and beauty of Cassie's relationship with her father, as well as some of his toxic qualities At about 41:20, Sarah discusses the issues revolving around money and the high cost of living At about 43:10, The two discuss the book's title and the symbolism of the pomegranate and ideas of mythical connections and underworlds At about 45:25, The two shout out Stephanie Feldman and connections between Ripe and Stephanie's Saturnalia At about 46:05, Pete references some cringy and skillful scenes involving the workplace At about 47:10, Sarah speaks on the often-unchecked CEOs and bigshots in tech companies At about 50:05, Pete cites a few moments worthy of Cassie's “crystal jar” At about 50:40, Pete reads and heaps praise upon a particularly profound and apt passage At about 52:20, Sarah reacts to Pete's question about the staying power of her book At about 54:45, Pete and Sarah discuss the book's ending At about 59:00, Sarah talks about exciting new projects You can now subscribe to the podcast on Apple Podcasts, and leave me a five-star review. You can also ask for the podcast by name using Alexa, and find the pod on Stitcher, Spotify, and on Amazon Music. Follow me on IG, where I'm @chillsatwillpodcast, or on Twitter, where I'm @chillsatwillpo1. You can watch this and other episodes on YouTube-watch and subscribe to The Chills at Will Podcast Channel. Please subscribe to both my YouTube Channel and my podcast while you're checking out this episode. I am very excited that starting in February with Episode 220 with Neef Ekpoudom, I will have one or two podcast episodes per month featured on the website of Chicago Review of Books. The audio will be posted, along with a written interview culled from the audio. A big thanks to Rachel León and Michael Welch at Chicago Review-I'm looking forward to the partnership! Sign up now for The Chills at Will Podcast Patreon: it can be found at patreon.com/chillsatwillpodcastpeterriehl Check out the page that describes the benefits of a Patreon membership, including cool swag and bonus episodes. Thanks in advance for supporting my one-man show, my DIY podcast and my extensive reading, research, editing, and promoting to keep this independent podcast pumping out high-quality content! This is a passion project of mine, a DIY operation, and I'd love for your help in promoting what I'm convinced is a unique and spirited look at an often-ignored art form. The intro song for The Chills at Will Podcast is “Wind Down” (Instrumental Version), and the other song played on this episode was “Hoops” (Instrumental)” by Matt Weidauer, and both songs are used through ArchesAudio.com. Please tune in for Episode 224 with Peter Coviello, a scholar of American literature and queer theory, whose work addresses the entangled histories of sex, devotion, and intimate life in imperial modernity. He's also the author of six books, including Is There God After Prince?: Dispatches from an Age of Last Things, which was selected for The Millions' “Most Anticipated” list for 2023. The episode will air on February 20.
Notes and Links to Andrew Leland's Work For Episode 222, Pete welcomes Andrew Leland, and the two discuss, among other topics, his early balance of technology and art and creativity that continues to govern his writing and careers, early formative reading, the philosophy of “going blind” versus “becoming blind,” the spectrum of blindness, and salient themes in his book like intersectionality, ableism, and differing ideas of how society sees the blind and disabled, and how this affects Andrew and others in similar situations. Andrew Leland is a writer, audio producer, editor, and teacher living in Western Massachusetts. His first book, The Country of the Blind: A Memoir at the End of Sight, about the world of blindness (and figuring out his place in it), was published in July 2023 by Penguin Press. He has produced audio for a range of entities, including an interview with the DeafBlind poet John Lee Clark for the New Yorker Radio Hour; a story about disabled astronauts for Radiolab; and a story about reading technologies for the blind for 99 Percent Invisible. From 2013–2019, he hosted and produced the Organist, an arts-and-culture podcast, for KCRW. He has taught nonfiction writing, radio, and “digital storytelling” (?) at Smith College, UMass-Amherst, and the University of Missouri, he's been an editor at the Believer since 2003, and he's edited books for McSweeney's and Chronicle Books. Buy The Country of the Blind Andrew's Website New York Times Review of The Country of the Blind NPR Article on The Country of the Blind At about 3:15, Andrew details his background with reading and writing, including how he was influenced by his parents in different ways, as well as how he was indirectly influenced by his uncle, the playwright Neil Simon At about 6:25, Andrew talks about a towering gift from his aunt that really energized his reading and writing journeys At about 9:30, Pete and Andrew discuss David Foster Wallace, his lasting literary legacy, and his marred legacy outside of writing At about 11:15, Andrew responds to Pete's questions about how his background in audio engineering, and how it has affected his writing At about 15:15, Pete reflects on the reading experience and Andrew reflects on how the book moved along due to his audio background, and Andrew shouts out Rachel Cunningham at Penguin Random House as being extremely helpful with structuring his book At about 17:10, Andrew discusses seeds for his book At about 21:00, The two lay out some exposition of the book and discuss the book's opening lines and contradictions; Andrew expands upon Will Butler's ideas of “going blind” vs. “becoming blind” At about 25:20, Andrew gives background on the book's title, and how it's based on a HG Wells' book At about 27:30, Andrew talks about long-held ideas or stereotypes of blind people and the consequences of same At about 30:05, Andrew discusses the myriad ways in which blindness has been used as metaphor, and shouts out a book that explores these tropes, There Plant Eyes, by M. Leona Godin At about 32:45, Andrew explains the difficulties he had with a meetup in Missouri that is featured in the book, as well as some immediate and later revelations that came from this At about 37:30, Andrew delves into his travels and conventions attended that adjusted his mindset and provided many beautiful moments and learning moments At about 41:55, Andrew discusses genetic testing for his medical condition, and how he and his wife decided whether or not to have their son tested At about 44:00, The two discuss ideas of intersectionality and in Andrew's research and reporting and what he found regarding racism and the strong work put forth by queer women of color in disabled communities At about 48:10, Andrew and Pete reflect on the history of the Bay Area in the fight for disability justice At about 51:00, The two discuss the medical advancements and artificial sight that are coming to the forefront and the ways in which Andrew writes and thinks about them At about 54:20, Andrew details the importance of Ben McFall, the legendary bookseller, and how his obituary connects to how Andrew feels as he started to use a screen reader At about 58:25, Andrew juxtaposes the Carroll Center for the Blind's philosophy versus that of other organizations that work for and with the blind At about 1:01:10, Pete and Andrew analyze an important set of encounters with a fellow guest at The Colorado Center for the Blind and the implications of their attitudes and philosophies and experiences At about 1:05:30, Andrew talks about exciting new projects You can now subscribe to the podcast on Apple Podcasts, and leave me a five-star review. You can also ask for the podcast by name using Alexa, and find the pod on Stitcher, Spotify, and on Amazon Music. Follow me on IG, where I'm @chillsatwillpodcast, or on Twitter, where I'm @chillsatwillpo1. You can watch this and other episodes on YouTube-watch and subscribe to The Chills at Will Podcast Channel. Please subscribe to both my YouTube Channel and my podcast while you're checking out this episode. I am very excited that starting in February with Episode 220 with Neef Ekpoudom and this episode, I will have one or two podcast episodes per month featured on the website of Chicago Review of Books. The audio will be posted, along with a written interview culled from the audio. A big thanks to Rachel León and Michael Welch at Chicago Review-I'm looking forward to the partnership! Sign up now for The Chills at Will Podcast Patreon: it can be found at patreon.com/chillsatwillpodcastpeterriehl Check out the page that describes the benefits of a Patreon membership, including cool swag and bonus episodes. Thanks in advance for supporting my one-man show, my DIY podcast and my extensive reading, research, editing, and promoting to keep this independent podcast pumping out high-quality content! NEW MERCH! You can browse and buy here: https://www.etsy.com/shop/ChillsatWillPodcast This is a passion project of mine, a DIY operation, and I'd love for your help in promoting what I'm convinced is a unique and spirited look at an often-ignored art form. The intro song for The Chills at Will Podcast is “Wind Down” (Instrumental Version), and the other song played on this episode was “Hoops” (Instrumental)” by Matt Weidauer, and both songs are used through ArchesAudio.com. Please tune in for Episode 224 with Sarah Rose Etter, the author of 2023's Ripe, and The Book of X, which was the winner of the 2019 Shirley Jackson Award. Her short fiction collection, Tongue Party, was selected by Deb Olin Unferth to be published as the winner of the 2011 Caketrain Award. The episode will air on February 13.
We're excited to share this excellent interview about the art of running a reading series from Index for Continuance, which is produced by the CSU Poetry Center and hosted by Hilary Plum and Zach Peckham. In this conversation, Hilary Plum speaks with novelist Sarah Rose Etter about reading series and their place in the literary landscape. From practical tips surrounding running a series—gleaned from Etter's time hosting TireFire in Philadelphia—to advice for writers stepping up to the microphone to give readings of their own, this episode offers a crash course in literary community, performance, and citizenship. Index for Continuance is a podcast focusing on small press publishing, politics, and practice by engaging editors, writers, publishers, critics, booksellers, and organizers involved in independent, small press, DIY, and community literary work in conversation. Index for Continuance aims to build an archive of grassroots knowledge that can serve the future of publishing. Learn more about the CSU Poetry Center, which produces Index for Continuance. Sarah Rose Etter the author of the novels Ripe (Scribner, 2023), a New York Times Book Review Editors' Choice and a Time Must-Read Book of 2023, and The Book of X (Two Dollar Radio, 2019), winner of the 2019 Shirley Jackson Award. Her short fiction collection, Tongue Party, was selected by Deb Olin Unferth as the winner of the 2011 Caketrain Award. On a related note, listen to Unicorn-Level Books with Two Dollar Radio, Page Count's interview with Two Dollar Radio editors Eric Obenauf and Eliza Wood-Obenauf. Page Count returns with a new episode on January 2: the recording of an in-person conversation with Ross Gay and Alison Stine at the Youngstown Fall Literary Festival.
Join co-hosts Annie Liontas and Lito Velázquez in conversation with LitFriends Lucy Corin & Deb Olin Unferth about their travels in the Sahara, ancient chickens, disappointments, true love, and why great books are so necessary. Our next episode will feature Melissa Febos & Donika Kelly, out December 22, 2023. Links Libsyn Blog www.annieliontas.com www.litovelazquez.com https://www.lucycorin.com https://debolinunferth.com LitFriends LinkTree LitFriends Insta LitFriends Facebook Transcript Annie Lito (00:00.118) Welcome to Lit Friends! Hey Lit Friends! Lito: Welcome to the show. Annie: Today we're speaking with Lucy Corin and Deb Olin Unferth, great writers, thinkers, and LitFriend besties. Lito: About chickens, the Sahara, and bad reviews. Annie: So grab your bestie Annie & Lito: And get ready to get lit! Lito: You know those like stones that you can get when you're on like a trip to like Tennessee somewhere or something, they're like worry stones? Like people used to like worry them with their thumb or something whenever they had a problem and it would like supposedly calm you down. Well, it's not quite the same thing, but I love how Deb describes her and Lucy's relationship is like, “worry a problem with me.” Like let's, let's cut this gem from all the angles and really like rub it down to its essential context and meaning and understanding. And I think essentially that's what like writers, great writers, offer the world. They've worked through a problem and they have answers. There's not one answer, there's not a resolution to it, but the answers that lead to better, more better questions. Annie: Yeah, and there's something so special about them because they're, worry tends to be something we do in isolation, almost kind of worrying ourselves into the ground. Lito: Right. Annie: But they're doing it together in collaboration. Lito: It's a collaborative worry. Yes, I love that. Annie: A less lonely worrying. Lito: It's a less lonely place to think through these things. And the intimacy between them is so special. The way I think they just weave in and out of their lives with each other, even though they're far away from each other. I think there's a romantic notion that you're tuned into about Lucy and Deb's trip to the desert. Do you want to say something about that? There's a metaphor in it that you really love, right? Annie: (1:52) Yeah. Well, so I remember when we first talked about doing this podcast and invited them, we were at a bar at AWP, the writer's conference. And they were like, oh, this is perfect. We just went to the Sahara together. And I was like, what? You writers just decided to take a trip together through the desert? And they said, yeah, it was perfect. And they have adorable photos, which we of course are going to share with the world. Um, but it felt like such a, I mean, the fact that they would go on that kind of adventure together and didn't really plan ahead, I think it was just Deb saying, I really want to go to the desert. And Lucy saying, sure, let's go. Which feels very much a kind of metonym of their friendship in some ways. Lito: Absolutely. Annie: (2:42) Yeah. That they wandered these spaces together. They come back to art, right? Art is a way for them to recreate themselves and recreate their friendship. And they're doing such different things on the page. Lito: Oh yeah, no, they're very different writers but they do share a curiosity that's unique I think in their friendship, then unique to them. Annie: Yeah and a kind of rigorousness and a love for the word. Lito: (3:10) Oh and a love for thinking and reading the world in every capacity. Annie: Tell me about your friendship with Lucy because you're quite close. Lito: I was at UC Davis before it was an MFA program. It was just a Master's. After undergrad, I went to the master's program because I wasn't sure if I wanted to be an academic or do the studio option and get an MFA. I loved how Lucy and the other professors there, Pam Houston, Yiyun Li, showed us the different ways to be a writer. They couldn't be more different, the three of them. And, I particularly was drawn to Lucy because of her sense of art and play and how those things interact. Lito: (03:59) And here was someone that was extremely cerebral, extremely intelligent, thinking through every aspect of existence. And yet it was all done through the idea of play and experimentation, but not experimentation in that sort of like negative way that we think of experimentation, which is to say writing that doesn't work, but experimentation in the sense of innovation. And. Lucy brought out my sense of play. I got it right away, what she was going for, that there is an intellectual pleasure to the work of reading and writing that people in the world respond to, but don't often articulate. Lucy's able to articulate it, and I admire her forever for that. Lito: (4:52) And perhaps I'm not speaking about our friendship, but it comes from a place of deep admiration for the work that she does and the way she approaches life. You have a special relationship with Deb. I would love to hear more about that. Annie: (5:04) Yeah, I think I've been fangirling over Deb for years. Deb is such a special person. I mean, she's incredibly innovative and has this agility on the page, like almost no other writer I know. Also quite playful, but I love most her humanity. Deb is a vegan who, in Barn 8, brings such life to chickens in a way that we as humans rarely consider. There's an amazing scene which she's like with a chicken 2000 years into the future. Also, I know Deb through my work with Pen City, her writing workshop with incarcerated writers at the Connally Unit, a maximum security penitentiary in Southern Texas. Lito: How does that work? Is it all by letter or do you go there? Annie: (5:58) Well, the primary program, you know, the workshop that Deb teaches is on site, and it's certified. So students are getting, the incarcerated writers, are getting now college credit because it's an accredited program. So Deb will be on site and work with them directly. And those of us who volunteer as mentors, the program has evolved a little bit since then, (06:22) but it's kind of a pen pal situation. So I had a chance to work with a number of writers, some who had been there for years and years. And a lot of folks are writing auto-fiction or fiction that's deeply inspired by the places they've lived and their experiences. It's such a special program, it's such a special experience. And what I saw from Deb was just this absolute fierceness. You know, like Deb can appear to be fragile in some ways (06:53.216), and it's her humanity, but actually there's this solid steel core to Deb, and it's about fortitude and a kind of moral alignment that says, we need to do better. Lito: We have this weird connotation with the word fragile that it's somehow bad, but actually, what it means is that someone's vulnerable. And to me, there is no greater superpower than vulnerability, especially with art, and especially in artwork that is like what she does at the penitentiary. But, can I ask a question? Annie: Sure. Lito: Why is it so special working with incarcerated folks? Annie: (7:27) Oh, that's a great question. I mean, we need its own podcast to answer it. Lito: Of course, but just sort of the... Annie: I think my personal experience with it is that so many incarcerated writers have been disenfranchised on all levels of identity and experience. Voting rights, decent food, accommodations, mental health, physical, you know, physical well-being. And we can't solve all those problems necessarily, at least all at once, and it's an up, it's a constant battle. But nothing to me offers or recognizes a person's humanity like saying, "tell us your story. Tell us what's on your mind. We are here to hear you and listen." And those stories and they do come out, you know, there have been other programs that have done this kind of work, they get out in the world and there's, we're bridging this gap of people we have almost entirely forgotten out of absolute choice. (8:27) And Deb is doing that work, really, I mean she's been doing that work for a long time and finally got some recognition for it, but Deb does it because she's committed. Lito: That is really powerful. Tell us your story. Tell us your story, Lit Fam. Tell us your story. Find us in all your social media @LitFriendsPodcast or email us at LitFriendsPodcast@gmail.com Annie: We will read all your stories. We'll be right back with Lucy and Deb. Lito: (09:00) And now, our interview with Lucy Corrin and Deb. Lucy Corin is the author of two short story collections, 100 Apocalypses and Other Apocalypses and The Entire Predicament, and two novels, Everyday Psychokillers and The Swank Hotel. In addition to winning the Rome Prize, Lucy was awarded a fellowship in literature from the NEA. She is a 2023 Guggenheim Fellow and a professor of English in the MFA program at UC Davis. Annie: Deb Olin-Unferth is the author of six books, including Barn 8, and her memoir, Revolution: The Year I Fell in Love and Went to Join the War, which was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award. Deb is an associate professor in creative writing at the University of Texas at Austin. She founded and runs Pen City Writers, a two-year creative writing certificate program at Connally, a maximum security prison in southern Texas. For this work, she was awarded the 2017 Texas Governor's Criminal Justice Service Award. Lito: (09:58) Annie and I thought this up a year ago, and we were talking about what is special about literary friendships and how writing gets made, not as we all think, totally solitary in our rooms alone, but we have conversations, at least I think this way. They're part of long conversations with our friends, our literary friends and living and dead, and you know, all times, in all times of history. But the idea here is that we get to talk to our literary friends and people we admire and writers who are close friends with each other and friendships in which literature plays a large role. Annie: (10:37) Yeah, and I'll just add that when we first floated the idea of this podcast, you know, your names came up immediately. We're so in awe of you as people and practitioners and literary citizens, and we love your literary friendship. I mean, I really hold it dear as one of the best that I know of personally. Lucy, I think of you as, you know, this craftsperson of invention who's always trying to undo what's been done and who's such an amazing mentor to emerging writers. And Deb, you know, I'm always returning to your work to see the world in a new way, to see something I might have missed. And I just, I'm so moved by your generosity in your work and in your life's work with Penn City and elsewhere, which I'm sure we'll have a chance to talk more about. Annie: (11:30) But I think I recall the first day I realized how close the two of you were when Deb told me that you all were taking a trip to the Sahara. And I was like, oh, of course, like, of course, they're going to have desert adventures together. Like, this makes so much sense. So I hope we'll, you know, we'll talk more about that too. Annie (11:53) But we're so grateful to have you here and to have you in our lives. And we're going to ask you some questions to get to know a little bit more about you. Deb: Sounds great. Lucy: Thanks. Deb: It's great to be here. It's really great to see everybody. Lito: Thank you so much for being here. Deb, will you tell us about Lucy? Deb: (12:16) I mean, Lucy's just one of my very favorite people. And I feel like our friendship just started really slowly and just kind of grew over a period of many years. And some of the things that I love about Lucy is she is, well, of course, she's a brilliant genius writer. Like, I mean, no one writes weird like Lucy writes weird and no one writes like more emotionally, and more inventively and some of her books are some of my favorite books that have ever been written. Especially her last two books I think have just been such just major literary accomplishments and I just hold them so dear. (13:05) And as a friend some things that I really love about her is that she will worry a problem with me that's just bugging me about like literary culture or about writing or about, you know, just it could be anything about aesthetics at all. And then she'll literally talk to me about it for like five or six days straight without stopping. Like we'll just constantly, dinner after dinner, like, you know, if we're on a trip together, just like all day, like I'll wake up in the morning and I'll be like, here's another piece of that pie. And then she'll say, oh, and I was thinking, and then we'll like go off and work and then we'll come back at lunch and be like, "and furthermore," you know? And by the end, I remember at one point we were doing this and she said, this is a very interesting essay you're writing. And of course, like it wasn't an essay at all, but it was just like a way of thinking about the way that we were talking. (14:06) And then she is hilarious and delightful and just like so warm. I don't know, I just love her to pieces. She's just one of my favorite people in the whole world. I could say more, but I'll stop right there for a minute. Annie: Lucy, tell us about Deb. Lucy: (14:24) Yeah, I mean, Deb, I mean, the first thing, I mean, the first thing you'll notice is that Deb is sort of effortlessly enthusiastic about the things that she cares about. And that's at the core of the way that she moves through the world and the way that she encounters people and the way that she encounters books. (14:44) I'm more reserved, so I'll just preface what I'm going to say by saying that like, my tone might not betray my true enthusiasms, but I'll try to list some of the things that I think are special and extraordinary about my friend Deb. One is that there's this conversation that never stops between the way that she's thinking about her own work and the way that she's thinking about the state of the world and the way that she's thinking about the very specific encounters that she's having in daily life. And so like moving through a conversation with Deb or moving through a period of time with Deb in the world, those things are always in flux and in conversation. So it's a really wonderful mind space to be in, to be in her presence. (15:35) The other thing is that she's like the most truly ethical person that I am close to and in the sense that like she thinks really hard about every move she makes. The comparison I would make is like you know Deb is like at the core like, the first thing you might notice about Deb's work is that she's a stylist, that she works sentence by sentence and that she always does. But then the other thing she does is that she's always thinking hard about the world and the work, that it never stays purely a love of the sentence. The love of the sentence is part of the love of trying to understand the relationship between words and the world. (16:15) And, and they're both an ethics. I think it's an ethics of aesthetics and an ethics of trying to be alive in as decent way as you can manage. And so those things feed into the friendship where she's one of the people who I know will tell me what she really thinks about something because we can have a baseline of trust where then you can talk about things that are either dangerous or you might have different ideas about things or you may have conflict. (16:47) But because of my sense of who she is as a person, and also who she is with me, we can have challenging conversations about what's right about how to behave and what's right about how to write. And that also means that when the other parts of friendship, which are just like outside of literature, but always connected, which, you know, about your own, you know, your other friendships, your, the rest of your life, your job, your family, things like that, that you wanna talk about with your friends. Yeah, I don't know anybody better to sort through those things than Deb. And it's in part because we're writers, and you can't separate out the questions that you're having about the other parts of your life from who you're trying to be as a writer. And that's always built into the conversation. Annie: (17:40) I knew we asked you here for a reason. Lito: We'll be right back. Lito (17:58) Back to the show. Annie: I'm hearing you, you know, you're both, you're sort of really seeing one another, which is really lovely. You know, you're, Deb, you're talking about Lucy wearing a problem with you, which I think conveys a kind of strength and... Of course, like I'm quite familiar with Deb's like strong moral anchors. I think we all are and truly respect, but I'm just wondering, what do you most admire about your friend? What do you think they give to the world in light of this portrait that you've given us? Deb: (18:28) Lucy is a very careful thinker, and she's incredibly fair. And I've just seen her act, just behave that way and write that way for so many years and it just the quality of it always surprises me. Like I mean, there was a writer, most recently there was a writer who's been cancelled, who we have spent an enormous amount of time talking about and trying to figure out just exactly what was going on there. And I felt like Lucy had insights into what had happened and what it was like on his end and what about his culture could have influenced what happened. Just all of these things that were. (19:36.202) It was so insightful and I felt like there's no way that I could have moved that moved forward that many steps in my understanding of what had happened. And in my own like how I was going to approach what had happened. Like there's no way I could have done that without that just constant just really careful thought and really fair thought. Just like trying to deeply understand. Like Lucy has an emotional intelligence that is just completely unparalleled. That's one thing I really love about her. Another thing is that she's like up for anything. Like when I asked her to go to the Sahara with me, I mean, she said yes in like, it was like not even 12 seconds. It was like 3 seconds, I think, that she was like, yeah. Annie: You need a friend who is just gonna go to the Sahara. Lucy: Deb, I don't even know if you actually invited me. The way I remember it is that you said something like, Lucy, no one will go to the Sahara with me. And I said, I would go to the Sahara with you. Lito: That is lovely. Lucy: (20:53) It's in Africa, right? Lito: Was there something specific about the Sahara that you need to go over for? Deb: Yeah, I mean, there was. It's a book I'm still working on, hopefully finishing soon. But it's mostly it's like...I just always wanted to go to the Sahara. My whole life, I wanted to go to Morocco, I wanted to go to the Sahara, I wanted to be surrounded by just sand and one line. You look in 360 degrees and you just see one line. I just wanted to see what that was like so badly, stripping everything out, coming down to just that one element of blue and beige. I just wanted that so much. And I wanted to know that it just went on and on and on and on. (21:48) Yeah, and you know, people talk a big talk, but most people would not go. And so at one point I was just kind of rallying, asking everyone. And then Lucy happened to be in town and I just mentioned to her that this is happening. And then she said, yeah, and then we went for like a long time. Like we went to Morocco for like over three weeks. Like we went for like a month. Lucy: A month. Deb: Yeah, crazy. But she's always like that. Like whatever I want to do, she's just up for it. I mean, and she called me up and she's like, hey, we want to come to Austin and like, go to this place that's two hours from Austin where you can see five million bats, right? Five million bats? Or was it more? Was it like 20 million? Lucy: That's right. Deb: It was like 20 million bats and a lot of them are baby bats. It's like mama bats and baby bats. Lucy: Yeah, like it's more when there's the babies. Deb: (22:46) And yeah, and you were like, I want to come with them as the babies. Yeah, we like went and she just like came and Andrea came, and it was just absolutely beautiful. Lucy: Well, you were just right for that adventure. I knew you would want to see some bats. Lucy: Well, I could I could say a couple of more things about what Deb gives the world. Annie: Sure. Love it. Lucy: So some of the things that Deb gives the world and though when I listen to you talking about me, I realized why these things are so important to me, is that you have a very steady sense of who you are and a kind of confidence in your instincts. That I know that some of the ways that I worry things through are really productive and some of them are just an ability to see why I could be wrong all the time, and that can stymie me. (23:48) And one of the things that I love about you and the model that you provide for me in my life is an ability to understand what your truth is and not be afraid to hold onto it while you're thinking about other people's perspectives, that you're able to really tell the difference between the way that other people think about things and the way that you do. And it doesn't mean that you don't rethink things, you constantly are, but when you have a conviction, you don't have a problem with having a conviction. And I admire it enormously. And I think it allows you to have a kind of openness to the world and an openness to people who are various and different and will challenge you and will show you new things because you have that sense that you're not gonna lose yourself in the wind. Deb: Mmm. That's really nice. Lito: I am in awe of everything you've said about each other. And it makes me think about how you first met each other. Can you tell us that story? And why did you keep coming back? What was the person like when you first met? And why did you keep coming back to each other? Do you want to tell Lucy? Lucy: Yeah, I'll start and you can add what I'm missing and... (25:06) tell a different origin story if you want. But I think that what we might've come to for our origin story is that it was one of the, one of the early &Now Festivals. And the &Now Festival is really great. Lito: Could you say what that is? Yeah, say a little bit about what that is. Luch: Oh, it's a literary conference that was started to focus on small press and more innovative—is the term that they used at the time anyhow—innovative writing as a kind of response to the market-driven culture of AWP and to try to get people who are working more experimentally or more like on the edge of literary culture less mainstream and give them a place to come together and have conversations about writing and share their work. So it was one of the early ones of those. But I think it was, I think we figured out that there were like, yeah, there were three women. It was me, you, and Shelley Jackson. But it was, there were not that many women at this conference at the time. And we were, and I think we were noting, noting our solidarity. Yeah. And that, that's what. That's like some of the first images. But I knew we were like aware of each other because in some ways we have tended to be up for the same jobs—Deb gets them—up for the same prizes—Deb gets them first, I'll get them later. And so I see her as somebody who's traveling through the literary world in ways that are... I mean, we're very different writers, but as people... You know what I mean? But I still... We still actually...come from a lot of the same literary roots. And so it makes sense that there's something of each other in the work that makes us appeal to overlapping parts of the literary world. Deb: Yeah, I definitely think that there was in our origins, not only do we come from the same sort of influences, and just things that we admired and stuff, but I also feel like (27:28.018) a lot of our early work would have appealed more easily to the exact same people. As we've gotten older, our work isn't quite as similar. We're a little more different than we used to be. But there's still enough there that, you know, you can see a lot of the same people admiring or liking it. But I was remembering that first time that we met, you playing pool. And we were, so we were like at a bar and you were like, and you were playing pool, and you had like just had a book out with FSG, I think, or something. I don't know if I even had— Lucy: FC2. Very different. Deb: FC2. That's right. FC2. And the FC2 editor was there. And I don't think I even had a book out. I don't remember what year this was. But I don't think I had any kind of book out. All I had was I had nothing, you know. And I was just so in awe of FC2 and the editor there, and you there, and like you could play pool, and I can't play pool at all. And it was just, it was— Annie: Lucy's so cool. Yeah, she was cool. She was cool. And Shelly Jackson was cool. And it was like all the cool people were there and I got to be there, and it was great. And then, yeah, and then I think how it continued, I don't know how it continued, we just kind of kept running into each other and just slowly it built up into a really deep friendship. Like at some point you would come through town and stay with me. (29:25.782) And we moved, we both moved around a lot. So for a while there, so we kind of kept running into each other in different places. We've never lived in the same place. Lucy: No, never. Lito: How have you managed that then? Is it always phone or is it texting, phone calls? Lucy: Well, we'll go through a spate of texting. Deb: Yeah, we do both. I think I like to talk on the phone. Lucy: Yeah, I will talk on the phone for Deb. Annie: The mark of a true friendship. Lito: (30:01) Time for a break. Annie Lito (30:12.43) We're talking with Lucy Corin and Deb Olin Unferth. Lito: How has literature shaped your friendship then? Despite being cool. What kind of books, movies, art do you love to discuss? You can name names. What do you love talking about? Deb: Well, I remember the moment with Donald Barthelme. Lucy: That was what I was gonna say. Deb: No, you go ahead. Lucy: Well, why don't? Deb: Oh, okay, you can tell it. Lucy: I mean, I'll tell part and then you can tell part. It's not that elaborate, but we were, one of the things that Deb and I do is find a pretty place, rent a space, and go work together. And one time we were doing that in Mendocino and Deb was in the late stages of drafting Barn 8 and really thinking about the ancient chickens and the chickens in an ancient space. And we went for a walk in one of those very ferny forests, and Deb was thinking about the chickens and among the giant ferns. And I don't know how it happened, but Deb said something with a rhythm. And we both said to each other the exact line from Donald Barthelme's "The School" that has that rhythm. (31:34) Is that how you remember it though? You have to tell me if that's how you remember it. Deb: That's exactly how I remember it. Yeah. And then we like said a few more lines. Like we knew even... Lito: You remember the line now? Lucy: I mean, I don't... You do. If you said it, I could do it. I'm just... I was thinking before this, I'm like, oh God, I should go look up the line because I'm not going to get it right, like under pressure. It was just in the moment. It came so naturally. Deb: It was one of those lines that goes... (32:03) Da da da-da da, da da da-da-da. There's a little parenthetical, it's not really in parentheses in the story, but it might be a little dash mark. But it has, it's something like, "I told them that they should not be afraid, although I am often afraid." I think it was that one. Deb: I am often afraid. Yeah. And then it was like, we just both remembered a whole bunch of lines like from the end, because the ending of that story is so amazing. And it's, so the fact that we had both unconsciously memorized it and could just like. And it was something about just like walking under those giant trees and having this weekend together. And like we're like marching along, like calling out lines from Donald Barthelme. And it just felt really like pure and deep. Annie: It's I mean, I can't imagine anything sounding more like true love than spontaneously reciting a line in unison from Barthelme. And, you know, you both are talking about how your work really converged at the start and that there are some new divergences and I think of you both as so distinct you know on and off the page. There's like the ferociousness of the pros and an eye towards cultural criticism and I always think of you as writing ahead of your time. So I'm just wondering how would you describe your lit friends work to someone, and is there something even after all this time that surprises you about their writing or their voice? Lucy: I mean, what surprised me recently about Deb's voice is its elasticity. I came to love the work through the short stories and the micros. And those have such a distinct, wry kind of distance. They sort of float a little separate from the world, and they float a little separate from the page. (34:10) And they have a kind of, they have a very distinct attitude and tone, even if the pieces are different from each other, like as a unit. And that's just really different than the voice that you get in a book like Barn 8 that moves through a lot of different narrators, but that also has just a softer relationship with the world. Like it's a little more blends with the world as you know, it doesn't stay as distant. And I didn't know that until later. Vacation is also really stark and sort of like has that distinctiveness from the world. And so watching Deb move into, you know, in some ways like just more realistic, more realistic writing that's still voice-centered and that still is music centered was a recent surprising thing for me. But I'm also really excited about what I've read in the book that in the new book because I think that new book is sort of the pieces that the bits that I've read from it are they're marking a territory that's sort of right down the middle of the aesthetic poles that Deb's work has already hit I mean the other thing is that you know Deb does all the genres. All of the prose genres. Every book sort of is taking on it is taking on a genre And the next one is doing that too, but with content in a way that others have been taking on new genres and form. And so... Lito: I love that. And I like that it's related to the music of the pros and sound. I feel like musicians do that a lot, right? There's some musicians that every album is a new genre or totally different sound. And then there's artists who do the same thing over and over again. We love both those things. Sorry, so Deb... Deb: So I love how complicated Lucy can get with just an image or an idea. I just feel like no one can do it the way that she can do it. And my like her last in her last book, which I love so much, we're just brought through all these different places and each one is sort of (36:31.29) dragging behind it, everything that came before, so that you can just feel all of this like, pressure of like the past and of the situations and like even like a word will resonate. Like you'll bring like, there's like a word on maybe page like 82 that you encountered on like page 20 that like the word meant so much on page 20 that it like really, you can really feel its power when it comes on page 80. And you feel the constant like shifting of meaning and just like the way that the prose is bringing so much more and like it's like reinterpreting that word again and again and again, just like the deeper that you go, like whatever the word is be it you know house or home or stair or um you know sex, whatever it is, it's like constantly shifting. (37:40.952) And that's just part of like who Lucy is, is this like worrying of a problem or worrying of a word and like carrying it forward. And so yeah, so like in that last book, it just was such a big accomplishment. And I felt like it was like her best work yet. Lucy: So I will say, try and say something a little bit more specific, then. (38:09) Like I guess in the sort of 10 stories that I teach as often as possible in part because I get bored so easily that I need to teach stories that I can return to that often and still feel like I'm reading something that is new to me is the title story from Wait Till You See Me Dance and that story is a really amazing combination of methodical in its execution, which sounds really dull. But what it does is sort of toss one ball in the air and then toss another ball in the air and then toss another ball in the air. And then, you know, the balls move, but you know, the balls are brightly colored and they're handled by a master juggler. So it's methodical, but it's joyful and hilarious. And then, and then, and you don't And the other thing is that Deb's narrators are wicked and like they're wicked in the way that like… They are, they're willing to do and say the things that you secretly wish somebody would do and say. That's the same way that like, you know, in the great existential novels, you love and also worry about the protagonists, right? They're troubled, but their trouble allows them to speak truthfully because they can't help it. Or they can't help it when they're in the space of the short story. It's that like, you know, the stories are able to access—a story like this one and like many of Deb's—are able to access that really special space of narrator, of narration, where you get to speak, you get to speak in a whisper. Annie: You get to speak in a whisper. That's beautiful, Lucy. You get to speak in a whisper. Lito: We'll be right back. Lito: (40:15) Welcome back. Annie: I'm wondering about what this means, you know, how this crosses over to your own personal lives, right? Because of course, literary friendships, we're thinking about the work all of the time. But we're also, you know, when I think of my literary friendship with Lito, I think of him as like a compatriot and somebody who's really carrying me through the world sometimes. I'm wondering if there was for either of you, a hard time that you went through personally, professionally, you know, whether it's about publishing or just getting words on the page or something, you know, um, you know, family related or whatever, where you, um, you know, what it meant to have a literary friend nearby at that time. Lucy: I mean that's the heart of it. Deb: Yeah, I mean for sure. Lucy: One happened last week and I'm sort of still in the middle of it where you know my literary mentor is aging and struggling and so that's painful for me and who gets that? Deb gets that. The other one, the other big one for me was that the release of my last novel was really complicated. And it brought up a lot of, it intersected with a lot of the things going on in my family that are challenging and a lot of things that are going on in the literary world that are challenging. There were parts of that release that were really satisfying and joyful, and there were parts of it that were just devastatingly painful for me. And, you know, Deb really helped me find my way through that. And it was a lot, like it was a lot of emotional contact and a lot of thinking through things really hard and a lot of being like, "wait, why do we do this? But remember, why do we do this?" And Deb was the person who could say, "no, you're a novelist." Like things that like I was doubting, Deb could tell me. And the other thing is that I would come closer to being able to believe those things because she could tell them to me. Annie: Lucy, can you talk a little more about that? Like what did that? (42:27.126) What did that look like, right? Like you talked about resistance to phone calls, and you're not in the same place. Lucy: It was phone. Right, it would be phone or it would be Zoom or it would be texting. And then, you know, when we would see each other that would be, we would reflect on those times in person even though that wasn't those immediate moments of support and coaching and, you know, wisdom. Annie: And that requires a kind of vulnerability, I think, that is hard to do in this industry, right? And I'm just wondering if that was new for you or if that was special to this friendship, right? Or like what allowed for that kind of openness on your part to be able to connect with Deb in that way? Lucy: I mean, I think I was just really lucky that we've had, like even though we have really, I think, only noticed that we were close since that Morocco trip. Like that was a little bit of a leap of faith. Like, "oh my gosh, how well do I know this person and we're gonna travel together in like circumstances, and do we really know each other this way?" But the combination of the years that we've known each other in more of a warm acquaintance, occasional, great conversation kind of way towards being somebody that you, that you trust and believe and that you have that stuff built in. And, you know, that over the years you've seen the choices that they've made in the literary world, the choices they've made in their career, when they, you know, everything from, you know, supporting, you know, being a small, being small press identified and championing certain kinds of books over other kinds of books. And like those, just like watching a person make choices for art that you think are in line with the writer that, watching her make choices in art that are in line with the writer that I wanna be in the world makes it so that when you come to something that is frightening, that's the kind of person you wanna talk to because she's done that thinking. Deb: Yeah, I mean, I feel like there are like so many things that I could say about that. Like one thing is that the kind of time that I spend with Lucy is really different from the kind of time that I spend with most people. Like most people, (44:51) they come to town and I have dinner with them. Or I go to like AWP or whatever and we go out for dinner. Or maybe I spend like one night at their house like with their partner and kid or something, you know. But Lucy and I, we get together and we spend like four days or something all alone, just the two of us, you know, or a month or whatever. And we don't spend a ton of time with other people. And so there's, but then we also do that, but just like not very much. And so there is something that just creates, like that's a really good mode for me. It's a, that's like the way that I make really deep friendships that are kind of like forever-people in my life. And I've always been like that. And so, but not a lot of people are willing to sort of do that with me. Like, I have so many acquaintances, I've got like a million, I feel like I could have dinner with someone just about any night, as long as it's only like once every few months or something, you know, but I don't have people who are willing to be this close to me, like spend that kind of time with me one-on-one. And the fact is like, they're not that many people that I really feel like doing that with. And you know, every time Lucy and I do one of these, I just come away feeling like I thought about some really important things and I talked about some really important things and I saw some beautiful things because Lucy always makes sure that we're somewhere where we can see a lot of beauty. And so that just means so much to me. And it's like, and so for me it creates like a space where, Yeah, I can be honest and vulnerable, and I can also tell her, if I can tell her things that I don't tell other people, or I can be really honest with her if I feel like, if I'm giving her advice about something, I can just be honest about it. And so it's really, really nice. (47:07) I mean, the other thing is like, we're so similar. Like we've made so many similar life choices. And we've talked about that. Lucy and I have talked about that. Like, you know, we both chose not to have kids. We live pretty, like we're both like kind of loners, even though we have partners. Like I think our partners are more like, they just kind of would, they would prefer that we. I don't know, I shouldn't probably say anything, but I know that Matt would prefer if I was not quite as much of a loner as I am. Yeah, so I look at Lucy and I see the kind of person that I am, the kind of person I wanna be, so if I have a question, I mean, it happens. Lucy mentioned a couple of things. I have... You know, she's had some pretty major, major things. I have like little things that happen all the time, and they just like bring me to tears. Like there was this one moment during the pandemic when I was like driving across the country by myself. I was like in Marfa, and I was trying to get to California and I had like a toilet in the back seat. Remember when we were all doing that kind of thing? Lucy: It was really amazing. Deb: It was so crazy. Lucy: But Deb, not everybody had a toilet in their back seat. Annie: I know. I need that now. Deb: It still comes in handy. Annie: I'm sure. Deb: (48:43) And I was in, and yeah, Lucy is amazing. She'll talk to me on the phone, but Lucy will do because I love to talk on the phone and I love to Zoom. Lucy does not. So she'll tell me in advance, okay, I will talk to you, but it's gonna be for like 20 minutes or I'm gonna have to get off like pretty soon. But she Zoomed with me and Marfa and I just didn't realize how upset I was about this one rejection that I'd gotten. And it was a really small rejection, I don't know why it bothered me so much, but I just like started crying and like I was like way out in like so many miles from any so many hours from anyone I knew and you know the world was going to shit, and I'd gotten this like tiny rejection from a magazine like a little like I had it was the page was it was like a piece that was like a page long or something, and Lucy just like knew exactly why I I was so upset, and just was able to talk to me about what that meant to me. And just refocus me to like, "look, you don't have to write those. You don't have to be that writer. You don't have to do that." And it was so freeing to know that I didn't always have to be, I don't even know how to describe it, but it was meant a lot. And things like that happen all the time. Annie: (50:15.265) That's such a wonderful model of mutual support. Lucy: We'll be right back. Annie: Hi Lit Fam. We hope you're enjoying our conversation with Lucy Corin and Deb Olin Unferth, and their love for the word, the world, and each other. If you love what we're doing here at LitFriends, please take a moment now to follow, subscribe, rate, and review our podcasts on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts. Just a few minutes of your time will help us so much to continue to bring you great conversations like this week after week. Thank you for listening. Back to a conversation with Lucy Corin and Deb Olin Unferth. Annie: I'm also aware that we're working in an industry that's a zero-sum construct. And, you know, Lucy, you were sort of joking earlier about... Deb winning all of the awards that you later got. But I am curious, like, what about competition between literary friends when we're living in a world with basically shrinking resources? Lucy: I feel competition, but I don't really feel it with my literary friends. Does that make sense? Like, I'll feel it with my idea of somebody that I don't really know except for their literary profile, right? But when someone like Deb gets something, it makes the world seem right and true, right? And so that's not hard to bear, right? That's just a sign of a good thing in a world that you're afraid isn't so good. Deb: I guess I feel like if Lucy gets something, then that raises the chances that I'm gonna get something. I'm gonna get the same thing. Because if we're kind of in the same, like we both published with Grey Wolf, we both have the same editor, so we've multiple times that we've been on these trips, we've both been working on books that were supposed to come out with Graywolf with Ethan. (52:16.3) You know, so I feel like if Lucy gets something, then the chances go up. Like there was just, something just happened recently where Lucy was telling me that she had a little, like a column coming out with The Believer. And I was like, "oh my God, I didn't even know that they were back." I'm like, "man, I really wanna be in The Believer. Like, I can't believe like, you know, they're back and I'm not in them. I gotta be in it. I said that to Lucy on the phone. And then, like the very next day, Rita wrote me and said, "Hey, do you want to write something?" And so I wrote to Lucy immediately. I was like, did you write to Rita? And she was like, "no, I really didn't." So it's like, we're in the same— Did you, Lucy? Lucy: No, I didn't! Rita did that all by herself. Lito: You put it out into the universe, Deb. Annie: Lucy did it. Hot cut, Lucy did it! Deb: So we're like, we're like in the same, I feel a lot of the time like we're kind of in the same lane and so that really helps because like, I do have writer friends who are not in the same lane as me and maybe. Like I'm not as close, but maybe that would be, but if I was as close, maybe that would cause me more confusion. Like I would be like, you know, "geez, how can I get that too? Or it's hopeless, I'll never get that, you know? So I just don't do that thing," or something. So that's really comforting. Lito: What are your obsessions? Lucy: Well, I mean- Lito: How do they show up on the page? Lucy: I feel like it's so obvious with Deb that like, you know, Deb got obsessed with chickens, and there was a whole bunch of stuff about chickens. First there was a really smart, brilliant Harper's essay where she learned her stuff. And then there was the novel where she, you know, imagined out the chickens (54:19) to touch on everything, right? Annie: Then there was a chicken a thousand years in advance. Lucy: Right, and then there's a beautiful chicken art in the house, and there's, you know. And I'm sure that she's gotten way more chicken gifts than she knows what to do with. But then the Sahara, like, you know, she was obsessed with the Sahara and you'll see it in the next book. It's gonna be— It's not gonna be in a literal way, right? But it'll be like, you'll feel the sand, you'll feel that landscape. So I don't know, like I feel like the obsessions show up in the books. I mean, are there, I mean, this is a question like, Deb, do you think you have obsessions that don't show up in your work? We both have really cute little black dogs. Deb: (55:07) Oh, not really. I mean, but I do get obsessed. Like I just get so, so like obsessed in an unhealthy way. And then I just have to wait it out. I just have to like wait until I'm not obsessed anymore. And it's like an ongoing just I'm like, OK, here it comes. It's like sleeping over me. Like how many years of my life is going to be are going to be gone as a result of this? So I'm always like so relieved when I'm not in that space. Like Lucy's obsession comes down to that, with her language, that she's like exploring one idea, like she'll take an idea and she like worries that over the course of a whole book and that she'll just it's like almost like a cubist approach. She'll be like approaching it from so many different standpoints. And that is like, I mean, Lucy is so smart and the way that she does that is just so genius. And so I feel like that's the thing that really keeps drawing me to her obsessions, that keeps bringing me back to that page to read her work again and again. And yeah, and that's how she is in person too. Lito: Why do you write? What does it do for the world, if anything? Lucy: (56:37) I know I had a little tiny throat clear, but I think it was because I'm still trying to figure it out because I feel like the answer is different in this world order than it was in earlier world orders. Like when I first answered those questions for myself when I was deciding to make these big life choices and say, "you know, fuck everything except for writing," like I was answering, I was answering that question a different way than I would now, but I don't quite have it to spit out right now, except that I do think it has something to do with a place where the world can be saved. Like, writing now is a place of respite from the rest of the world where you can still have all of these things that I always assumed were widely valued, that feel more and more narrowly valued. And so I write to be able to have that in my life and to be able to connect with the other people who share those kinds of values that are about careful thinking, that are about the glory of the imagination, that are about the sanctity of people having made things. Annie: Lucy, I need that on my wall. I just need to hear that every day. Deb: I mean, I feel like if I can think about it in terms of my reading life, that like art changes my mind all the time. Like that's the thing that teaches me. Like I remember when I was a kid, and I lived right near the Art Institute of Chicago, and I remember going in, and they had the Jacob Lawrence immigration panels, migration panels up there that was like a traveling exhibition. And I had none of that information. I did not know about the Great Migration. I just didn't know any of that. So I just remember walking from panel to panel and reading and studying it, (58:47.952) reading it and studying it and just like getting like just getting just it was like a It was such a revelation and I just learned so much and like changed my mind about so many things just in that moment that it was like I'll never forget that. And I feel like I, I totally agree with Lucy that the reasons that I write now and the reasons that I read now are very different than they were like before, say 2015, or something. But that, that maybe it has its roots in that sort of Jacob Lawrence moment where, you know, just I read these things and it's, I like, I love sinking deep into books that are really changing my mind and like teaching me about the world in ways that I never could have imagined, and I love that so much and I… I don't know if I have that to offer, but I really try hard, you know. Like I tried that with the chicken book. I'm kind of trying that, I hope, in this book that I'm trying to finish and— ha finish!—that I'm trying to get through. And so I think that that's why I think that art is so important. I don't know if that's truly why I write though. I feel like why I write is that I've always written, and it's like I love it so much. Like I just, sometimes I hate it, sometimes I hate it for like a whole year or whatever, but it's just, it's so much a core of who I am. (01:00:39) And I just, I can't imagine my life any other way. It's just it's just absolutely urgent to me. Annie: Yeah, urgent. Yeah. I think we all feel that in some way. Annie:(01:01:04.374) Thank you both for talking to us a little bit about your friendship and getting to know a little bit more about how you started and where you're at now. We're going to move into the lightning round. Lito: Ooooo Lightning round. Annie: (01:01:16) Deb, who were you in seventh grade? Who was I in seventh grade? In one sentence, oh my God, the pressure is on. I was unpopular and looked, my hair was exactly the same as it is now. And I wore very similar clothes. Lucy: (01:01:44) I was a peer counselor, and so I was like the Don who held everybody's secrets. Lito: Beautiful. Lucy. Lucy: It saved me. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had a place in that world. Annie: Makes so much sense. Lito: Wow. Who or what broke your heart first, deepest? Lucy: I mean, I would just say my mom. Deb: I guess, then I have to say my dad. Annie: Okay, which book is a good lit friend to you? Deb: Can I say two? The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas by Gertrude Stein and The Known World by Edward P. Jones. Annie: Excellent. Lucy: My go-to is White Noise. Still. Sorry. Lito: No need to apologize. Lucy: Yep. Annie Lito (01:02:27) Who would you want to be lit friends with from any point in history? Lucy: For me it's Jane Bowles. Deb: Oh, whoa. Good one. She would be maybe a little difficult. I was gonna say Gertrude Stein, then I was like, actually, she'd be a little difficult. Lucy: What a jerk! Deb: I think Zora Neale Hurston would be fun. Lucy: Well, yeah, of course. For sure. Annie: We were gonna ask who your lit frenemy from any time might be, but maybe you've already said. Lucy: Oh, right. I accidentally said my lit frenemy instead of my lit friend. Annie: Yeah. Lucy: Mm-hmm. Deb: (01:03:08) A frenemy from any time? Annie: Any time. Yeah, it doesn't have to be Jonathan Franzen. I feel like most people will just be like Jonathan Franzen. But it could be any time in history. Deb: I mean, if you're gonna go that route, then it would probably be, um, like... Lito: Kierkegaard. Deb: I don't know, maybe Nietzsche? If you're gonna go that route, if you're gonna go like, like existential philosophers. Annie: (01:03:34) That's great. Lito: That could be a podcast too. Annie: Just like epic frenemy. The most epic frenemy. Lito: (01:03:35) Well, that's our show. Annie & Lito: Thanks for listening. Annie: We'll be back next week with our guests Melissa Febos and Donika Kelly. Lito: Find us on all your socials @LitFriendspodcasts Annie: And tell us about an adventure you've had with your Lit bestie. I'm Annie Liontas. Lito: And I'm Lito Velazquez. Annie: Thanks to our production squad. Our show was edited by Justin Hamilton. Lito: Our logo was designed by Sam Schlenker. Annie: Lisette Saldaña is our Marketing Director. Lito: Our theme song was written and produced by Roberto Moresca. Annie: And special thanks to our show producer Toula Nuñez. Lito: This was Lit Friends, Episode 2.
In the first episode of Season 1, co-hosts Annie Liontas and Lito Velázquez speak with LitFriends Angela Flournoy & Justin Torres about their enduring friendship, writing in a precarious world, and chosen family. Links https://sites.libsyn.com/494238 www.annieliontas.com www.litovelazquez.com https://linktr.ee/litfriendspodcast https://www.instagram.com/litfriendspodcast/ https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61553436475678 https://justin-torres.com/ https://www.angelaflournoy.com/ https://www.asalisolomon.com/ Transcript Annie & Lito (00:01) Welcome to LitFriends! Hey LitFriends! Annie: Welcome to the show. Lito: Today we're speaking with the great writers and LitFriends, Justin Torres and Angela Flournoy. Annie: About chosen family, the dreaded second novel, and failure and success. Lito: So grab your bestie and— Both: Get ready to get lit! Lito: That's so cute. Annie: It's cute. It's cute. We're cute! Lito: Cute, cute… So you had a question? Annie (00:29) I do. I have a question for you, Lito. Are you a cat or an ox? Lito: I mean, I would hope that the answer is so obvious that it almost bears not asking the question. I'm a cat. Annie: Okay, so Asali Solomon at The Claw asked us all, are you an ox or a cat? Lito: That's a great question. Annie: And as a writer... You know, the oxen are the people who work every day in the field, clock in, clock out, pay themselves a quarter an hour. I'm literally talking about me. The cats are people who are playful, exploratory, when the mood strikes them… Lito: Why are you looking at me when you say that? Annie Lito (01:26) So are you an ox or a cat? Lito: I'm a cat. I think anyone who's ever met me would say I'm a cat. Annie: How does that show up in your writing? Lito: Well, I mean, play is so important to me—she'll be on the podcast in a couple of episodes, but when I first...was studying with Lucy, that was one of the first things that she spoke about in our class, and it kind of blew up my whole world. I had been writing for a long time already, but I hadn't thought of it as play, or there was some permission I needed or something. So the idea of play is really central to what I do and love. You wouldn't necessarily know that from the novel that I'm writing, which is sort of a dark book. Um, but it did start out with a lot of play and, I'm also, as you could probably just hear, my cat is coming into the room. Annie: Your cat is like, yes, Lito is us. RiffRaff is like, "Lito is cat." Lito: My cat Riff Raff, yes. Smarty pants. Um, he needed to join in on this conversation. Anyways, I'm a cat. I, I'm fickle when it comes to my work. Um. I don't want to work on my novel all the time, which is great because life has found so many ways to prevent it from happening. So in the new year, in 2024, it will be 7 years since I've started writing this book, and it's still, it's going to take a few more months at least. And what about you? Annie: (03:09) I'm four oxen pulling a cart carrying all of my ancestors. I am very much the immigrant who says, get up, go do the work, come back, go do the work. And believe it or not, for me, there is a lot of joy in that. It's a... It allows, you know, it's Csikszentmihalyi's Flow, actually. So it doesn't feel like drudgery, usually. It does feel like joy. And I'm actually curious for all you LitFriends out there, if you're an ox or a cat. Lito: Yes, that's such a great idea. Please email us at litfriendspodcast@gmail.com, and tell us if you're a cat or an oxen or share on all your socials. Annie: Yeah, maybe we should poll them. That would be fun. Lito: That's a good idea. #LitFriendsPodcast. Annie: The reason I'm asking is because, of course, both Justin and Angela, who we speak with today in this episode, talk about what it's like to go for 10 years between books. "A banger a decade," is what Angela says. Lito: It's so funny. Annie: And you, you know, part of that, they have this very rich conversation about how, when you put everything into the first book, it takes a lot to get to the second book. But I think also there's a lot of play, right? And there's a lot of understanding that writing appears in different forms. And it might be the second novel, but it might be something else. Lito: For sure. I really like how they talk about— that the practice of writing is actually a practice of reading. And I think that any serious writer spends most of their time reading. And not just reading books, but texts of all kinds, in the world, at museums, as Justin points out, art, television, even the trashiest TV show has so much to offer. Annie: (05:12) And there's such a generosity to the way they think of themselves as artists, and also generosity in how they show up for one another as friends, and acknowledging when they fail one another as we as we see in this episode. And I remember my introduction to Justin when I was a grad student at Syracuse. I read We the Animals and fell in love with it, asked him to come do a reading at Syracuse, which was wonderful. And my wife who, at that time was my Bey-ancé, she was turning 30. We had no money. I couldn't buy her anything. Not in grad school. So I asked Justin if he would autograph his story, "Reverting to a Wild State," which is about a breakup in reverse, for Sara. Lito: Oh, I love that story. Annie: And he did, and he thought it was so beautiful, and I was like, "let me send it to you." He's like, "no, I've got it." He just shipped it to me. He didn't know me. We didn't know each other. Lito: He knew you because of books. He knew you because he loved literature. Annie: Yeah. And I remember that in it. I held on to it at a time when that act really mattered. Lito: One of the things I love about our interview with Justin and Angela is how much all of us talk about generosity, and how Justin and Angela display it in their conversation with each other and with us. And I'm just curious, how do you see that coming through also in Angela's work? Annie: (07:00) You know, I remember her talking about how the idea for the book began with this image of people moving around a house at night. This is The Turner House. And she says this image opens up a lot of questions. And one of the things that really stays with me about that book is how masterful she is at shifting perspective, particularly between siblings, which I find to be such a challenge for writers, right? Like your siblings are the people who are closest to you and sometimes also the farthest away. And she gets that so intimately on the page. And of course, in our conversation with Angela and Justin, one of the things they talk about is being family, essentially being siblings. And that's one of the most powerful echoes of the conversation. They talk about being a chosen family and having to choose again and again and again. And that spirit of consciousness and connection, I feel that very much in Angela's work, and of course in Justin's too. Lito: Oh Annie, I choose you again and again, I choose you. Annie: Oh, I choo-choo-choose you! Lito: So stupid. Annie: (08:05) After the break, we'll be back with Justin and Angela. Annie: (08:24) And we're back. Lito: I just wanted to mention, too, that we spoke with Angela and Justin in October during the writer's strike in Hollywood, and just before Justin's new book, Blackouts, was released. And just last week, as you're hearing this podcast. Annie: Just last week. Lito: Just last week! He won the National Book Award for a book that took him 10 years to write. Annie: Absolutely. Annie: Justin Torres is the author of Blackouts, a novel about queer histories that are hidden, erased and re-imagined. Blackouts won the 2023 National Book Award for fiction. His debut novel, We the Animals, has been translated into 15 languages and was adapted into a feature film. He was named National Book Foundation's Five Under 35. His work appears in the New Yorker, Harper's, Granta, Tin House, Best American Essays, and elsewhere. He lives in Los Angeles and teaches at UCLA. Lito: Angela Flournoy is the author of The Turner House, which was a finalist for the National Book Award, won the VCU-Cabel First Novel Prize, and was also a finalist for both the Center for Fiction First Novel Prize and an NAACP Image Award. Angela is a contributing writer at the New York Times Magazine, and her nonfiction has appeared in The Nation, the Los Angeles Times, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. Angela is a faculty member in the low residency MFA program at Warren Wilson College. Lito: (10:36) I'm so grateful that you guys found time to meet with us today, and I've thought about you two as friends since I think this is like the first time you've done something like what you did in 2017, the "Proper Missive"—do you remember that—you published in Spook? And it stuck with me. I was like a big, nerding out, and I bought it and I have it still. And I thought about that. And Justin, you know that you're very personal— there's a personal connection with me because I found your book on my way to my first master's program. No one had said anything about it to me where I was coming from, and it was really great. And Angela, I first found your book. I was so amazed and moved by the talk you don't remember at Syracuse. Angela: I don't remember the lunch. I remember being at Syracuse, and there being a talk, yes. Lito: You inscribed your book, "Here's to Language," which I think is hilarious and also really sweet. And I think we must have said something about language at some point. But anyways, thank you so much both for being here. Justin: Thank you for having us. Angela: Very happy to be here. Lito: So let's start. Why don't you tell us about your friend in a few sentences? So Angela, you can go first. Tell us about Justin. Angela: (11:23) Justin is the first person that I met in Iowa City when I was visiting and deciding if I was going to go there, but was I really deciding no? I'll let you go there. But that I could like, deciding whether I would be miserable while I was there. And so Justin was the first person I met. And feel like Justin is five years older than me. It has to be said. Justin: Does it? Angela: When I think about people, and I think about like mentors, I have other like amazing mentors, but like, I think that there's really something special about somebody who some people might think is your peer, but like, in a lot of ways you've been like looking up to them and, um, that has been me with Justin. I think of him as like a person who is not only, he's a Capricorn, and he has big Capricorn energy. I am an Aquarius. I do not want to be perceived— Justin: I don't agree with any of this. But I don't know. I don't follow any of this. Angela: But Justin is in the business of perceiving me and also gathering me up and helping me do better. My life is just always getting better because of it. I'm grateful for it. Annie: That is beautiful, all of that is beautiful. Justin, tell us about Angela. Justin: I can't follow that, that is so... Angela: Acurate! Justin: You're so prepared! You're so sweet! I'm so touched! Angela: Only a Capricorn would be touched by somebody saying that you perceive them and gather them up and make them feel better. Ha ha ha! Justin: I like that, I do like that. Let's see, yeah. I mean, I think that when we met, I had already been in Iowa for a year, and within two seconds, I was like, oh, we're gonna be friends, and you don't know it yet. But I knew it intensely. And yeah, I think that one of the, I agree that I think we keep each other honest, I think. I think that one of the things that I just so appreciate about Angela is that, you know, yeah, you see my bullshit. You put up with it for like a certain amount of time, and then you're like, all right, we need to talk about the bullshit that you're pulling right now. And I love it, I love it, love it, love it, because I don't know, I think you really keep me grounded. I think that, yeah, it's been really (14:09) wonderful to have you in my life. And like, our lives really, really kind of pivoted towards one another. You know, like we've, it was not just like, oh, we were in grad school and then, you know, whatever, we have similar career paths, so we stayed friends or whatever. It's like, we became family. And, you know, every, every kind of major event in either of our lives is a major event, a shared major event, right? And that's like, yeah, I don't know. I can't imagine my life without you. I honestly can't. Angela: Likewise. I gave birth in Justin's home. Annie: Oh! Sweet! Justin: In my bathroom, over there. Right over there. Lito: Whoa, congratulations, and also scary(?)! Angela: It's in a book I'm writing, so I won't say so much about it, but it was a COVID home birth success story. And yeah, like family. Lito: Was that the plan or did that just happen? Angela: Well, It wasn't the plan and then it was the plan. Justin: Yeah, exactly. COVID wasn't the plan. Angela: No. Justin: The plan was Angela was gonna sublet my place with her husband and she was pregnant. And then, COVID happened Angela: There were a lot of pivots. But we did, it was like enough of a plan where we got his blessing to give birth in his home. Justin: It wasn't a surprise. Angela: It was a surprise that it was in the bathroom, but that's a different story. Annie: You blessed that bathroom is all I can say. Angela: Yeah. Lito: We'll be right back. Back to the show. Annie: (16:22) Well, I want to come back to what Lido was saying about proper missives. I love the intimacy. I mean, I know you weren't writing those to one another for kind of public consumption, but the intimacy and the connection, it's so moving. And I was thinking about, you know, Justin, you, you talk about Angela as kind of pointing the way to beauty and helping you see the world anew or differently. And Angela, you talked about how Justin encourages you to take up space as a political act. I'm just wondering what else you all have taught one another. What has your LitFriend taught you? Justin: Yeah, I mean, we did write that for public consumption. Angela: Yes, it was the editor-in-chief of Spook, Jason Parham. Spook is relaunching soon, so look out for it. He just told me that, like, the other day. And he's moving to L.A. So many things are happening. But he reached out to us and was really interested in—he's a big archives guy and like how—he thought it was valuable the way that writers of past generations, they have these documents of their letters to each other, to their editors, to their friends, to their enemies, and how this generation, because we're just texting through it, we don't really have that. And so that was really just the extent of the assignment, was to write letters to each other, which, of course, we still ended up using email to do. But we really tried to keep it in the spirit of a letter and not just something you kind of dash off. Justin: And we were not living in the same place at that time. Angela: No. Justin: So it was, it did feel kind of— Angela: I was in Provincetown, I think. Justin: Yeah, I remember I was on a train when I was, when I was doing— I can't remember where I was going or, but I remember a lot of it was— or a few of those correspondences— because it went over days, weeks. Lito: Yeah, you were going to Paris. Angela: Oh. Glamorous train. You were on the Eurostar. Justin: Wow. Annie: You basically said the same thing then, Angela. Call him out. Justin: (18:32) Yeah, and I think that what I was saying was that one of the things I loved about that was it really forced us to dive deeper, right? To kind of— Sometimes we can stay very much on the surface because we talk every day. And so it was really nice to see, not just what was kind of on your mind in the background, but also how you were processing it, how you kind of made language and meaning out of it. I was just like... I don't know, it's like, I know you're so deep, but then we also love to be shallow. And so it's so nice to be like, to connect from that deep place. Annie: One of the things that I'm so drawn to about both of your work is how you write about family, the way it shapes us, the way it wounds us, what it means to watch family members suffer. You talk about it as the question of the donut hole in "Proper Missive. Angela, I remember you were writing about your father. When you were writing about him, you talk about, "the assumption that a flawed person should be subject to anyone's definition." And Justin, I'm thinking quite broadly in terms of, you know, chosen or logical family. One of my favorite pieces that I teach in my creative non-fiction class is "Leashed," and you write there, "my friends, those tough women and queers were all too sharp and creative for their jobs. If I'm nostalgic, it's not because I was happy in those precarious years, but because I was deeply moved by our resourcefulness." I'm just wondering how you think about, you know, (20:09) family, logical family, and how your lit friendship fits into this? Justin: Who's going first? Angela: You. Justin: Let's see, I think that it's such a great question. I actually like, I use that little short kind of tiny little piece that you referenced. I use that in my book, in Blackouts, that's coming out. I think that, which is a book about chosen family as well, and lineages, and what do you do when you feel there's some kind of disruption, right? That like if you're estranged from your biological family or you know or you just need these connections, these kind of queer connections to and other ways of thinking about family that are not related to (21:06) bloodlines. Like we said earlier, we are family, and we've known that for quite a while. It was something that, I don't know. You know, it's like something that I don't think you ever really need to say. It's just you know who your people are. And I think that, and I think that it's a choice that you make and remake again and again and again. And that is something that is, I don't know, it's so exceptional, right? Compared to bloodlines and biological family, which can be hugely important and bring a lot of meaning to people. But that you're choosing this again and again. Like almost like the kind of past tense chosen family is like, it's like a little bit inaccurate, right? It's like the family you choose, and keep choosing, and you're choosing right now, you know? So I love that. Yeah. Angela: Just that the continuity of it, not in the sense that it's always going to be there, but that like you are, you're like an active, uh, engager like in it. In it, I just think about, I think about that, like, uh, at this point we know each other for 14 years. And the way that there's just necessarily we're not the same people but you have to keep, and you have to keep engaging, and you have to keep figuring out how to navigate different things and I think particularly as like LitFriends there's the huge thing you have to navigate which is especially if you're friends before that you're just like some kids who got into this program that people think are fancy, but you're just like, anything can happen, right? From there to being the capital— going from just like lowercase w, "writer," to capital A, "Author." And like what that, I mean, I've seen many a friendship where that is the rupture. And so particularly figuring out, like, how are you going to navigate that, and how are you going to still be in each other's lives. (23:16.33) Um, one thing I think about, as a person who thinks about family a lot is, with your family, sometimes you can like harm one another, and you'll just take some time off, or you'll just be like, that's how they are. But with the family that you continue to choose, you have to, ideally, you gotta do something about it. You have to actually have the engagement, and you have to figure out how to come out on the other side of it. And that is something that is harder and really in so many ways, all the more precious because of it. And it requires a kind of resilience and also just like a trust. And again, because Justin, you know, likes to gather me up, there's been a few times when I was like, "Oh, no, like, we've got beef, what's gonna happen?" And Justin is like, "we're family, what's gonna happen is we're gonna have to talk about this beef, and then move on." Justin: Yeah. And I think that I think that also you have, you're really good at reminding me to be responsible, right? That just because I've made this commitment, in my mind, right, Like we're committed forever. Like we're family. Like we can't, we can't break up, right? Like it's just like, that's just the way it is. It doesn't get me off the hook of showing up in other ways and being responsible and like, you know, that I can be quite flaky. Angela: I mean, that's just, you've been in L.A. long enough. It's just, you're just becoming native. Justin: I think I always don't, I don't wanna disappoint you. I don't want you ever to feel like you were looking around for support, and I wasn't there. Angela: Do people cry on this podcast? Annie: We time it. Right at the half hour. Justin: There's been a few moments when I feel it, when I've felt (25:21) maybe that wasn't there enough, you know? And, you know, and if, you know, and like, I don't know, that's when you know it's the real stuff because it like keeps me up at night. You know, I'm just like, wow, you know, what does she need? What can I give? How can I be there? And yeah. Angela: Wow. There you are. Justin: Here we are. Annie: Lito and I are also family, and it sort of feels never too late. But what you're saying about kind of the like renewing your vows, renewing your commitment over and over, it feels very, very true. Lito: Very true. Yeah yeah yeah. Annie: And life-saving, you know, like life affirming. Lito: It feels real. Justin: Yeah. Look at us. I'm proud of us. I'm proud of you guys too. Lito: It's a love fest over here. Angela: Thanks for having it. Annie: We'll be right back. Annie: (26:26) Welcome back. Angela: Also, particularly again, thinking about a lot of the friends that you have, they're not necessarily also sometimes colleagues. And I think that one thing that Justin really modeled, because I didn't have anything to be transparent about, was just transparency about things. Not just how much he's getting paid for things, but just like what was worth it, what's not worth it, like what is just the way something is and you can like take it or leave it. And I think that in the beginning it was more of me kind of taking that information because I didn't have anybody offering me anything. But now I feel like it's really an exchange of information. And I think that there are people who I love, like, in this industry, if you will, who that's just not our relationship. That doesn't mean we don't have great friendships, but like that is something that like if I'm broke, he knows I'm broke. I never feel the need to pretend and hide or like, you know, and likewise, like if he don't got it, I know he don't got it. It's not, it's just, it just, and I feel like that is something also that is a, it's, um, I think it's important. Especially because you write a book, you know, it does well. And then there are some years in between before you write another. Some of us in this room, maybe take a decade. All of us in this room, maybe take a decade. But yeah, so just really being able to be, to feel like you can still show up at any point in whatever you're doing creatively. Justin: (28:16) Because this is about literary friendships, I think that it's, yeah, there's those two sides, right? There's the business side, which can cause a lot of friction, especially if, you know, things go differently for different books and people have different trajectories. I mean, you're like, you know: you've surpassed. Angela: I don't know if that's true. Justin: But there's that like business side of it. And then there's the literary side as well. And I think that sometimes if it just slides too much into talking about—it's like we could both be selling sprockets, right? There's so much minutiae. It's like we could talk about contracts and whatever and like gigs and da-da-da ad nauseam. And we have to remember to talk about literary side, the literature, the work, the sentences, what we're reading in order to kind of sustain the literary quality of a literary friendship, right? Angela: One thing I remember you told me, I don't know, ages ago that I thought at the time like oh he's gassing me he's practicing things that he says his students tell me—but now I realize that it is also one of the reasons why our friendship has sustained is you were like ,you know, we can talk about whether a book is successful in 800 ways, but we have to try to remember to just be fans, to be fans of books, of literature, of people writing. And I think that is something that I not only try to practice, but that's something that I think is really foundational to relationship. Everyone can be a hater, and it can be fun sometimes, but like… (30:08) We really do like want to put each other on to the books that we're like excited about. Like I remember when you read or reread Seasons of Migration to the North by Tayeb Salih, and I hadn't read it before. I mean, it's like a, it's a seminal or really a really famous African text, but I had never read it. Or like Maryse Condé, like I hadn't read it as like a real adult and being able to just like talk about that and know that there's a person who's, you know, you could be in polite conversation with somebody who you think is really smart and then you're like you know what I decided I wanted to reread—I don't know—something a person might wanna reread and they're like, Oh, what are you gonna do next? You gonna read a Moby Dick? And you're like, Oh damn, they just shamed me. You know, they just shamed me for being a nerd. But that's not gonna happen here. Yeah, beautiful. Yeah, yeah, absolutely. Annie: I do wanna go back to something you were alluding to. Angela, you were talking quite openly about it, too, which is shifting from writer to capital A author and the pressure that comes with that. For the two of you, you had incredible well-deserved success early in your career, but I imagine that doesn't come without a lot of sleepless nights, right? I'm thinking about an interview I heard with Ta-Nehisi Coates where he talks about his friends not reaching out thinking, like, He's good, like, You blew up, you're good. And talking about actually what a lonely position that can be. I'm just wondering, you know, how you've both managed to take care of one another through those highs and lows, or being on that track alongside one another. And even, you know, competition between lit friends. Justin: (32:13) Yeah, I mean, I think that we're just kind of, like our dispositions: we're very lucky in that I think we, before we met, it wasn't something that we like decided on. It was just before we met, I think we're just boosters, right. We're like, The people we love, their success is our success, right? And I think that's one of the reasons to where we are such good friends, it's because we share that, right? So that I think makes it slightly easier as far as like the competition side of things goes. I think that if it really does feel like you're a family and you're community and like you understand that this is a kind of shared win. I don't know, it's hard to talk about though because we both got really lucky. Angela: Yeah. Justin: You know, I mean, who wants to hear from people who got really lucky with their first books talking about how hard it is? You know what I mean? We just, we didn't have, we didn't have any kind of that disparity between— Angela: Yeah, I'm sure, but—I would say even so—if we had different dispositions, we might be trying to split hairs about who got what. But I think for me—and Justin and I grew up very differently in some ways, but I think we grew up from a class background similarly, and we're both like, We're not supposed to be here, like, what can we get? Like, what can we get? And like, who has the information to help us get it? And so I've never been like, why is he in that room when I'm not in that room? I'm like, give me the intel about the room. That might be the closest I ever get to being in there, but I need to know like what's going on in there. And that has, I think, been the way that I just view any success of anybody that I know. that I feel like I can ask those questions to is like, not necessarily like, oh, can you put me on? Like now that you have something, can I have some of it? But just like, just information, just like, what's it like? And that to me is really useful. But also I think that one thing, when you have people, not just Justin, but like other friends and mentors of mine, when you have people who are honest and upfront about whatever kind of success they've had, you… you just realize that there's a lot of different ways to feel successful, right? Because I have friends who, to me, I'm like, they made it, but they're not convinced they have. And I have other friends that, like, to the outside world, they'd be like, wow, they have a little book, nobody cares. But they feel like they did it, you know? And so I realized it's so much about disposition also. Lito: Do you feel that a lot about being each other's boosters? I mean, obviously it's about your personalities and who you are as people. I'm also curious how much of that, like Angela, you said you were a gatecrasher. You feel like a gatecrasher a lot. I don't know. What are your thoughts on intersectionality? How does it inform your work and your friendship? How does it affect how you boost each other? I'm also curious if there's something particular about lit friendships that intersect with intersectionality and those categories, especially for people who form intimate relationships with men. Justin: Wait, say more. Like how do blowjobs come in? Angela: (36:01.171). I was like one thing we have in common is— Lito: More like, less blow jobs, more like having to deal with men and the various ways they, you know, respond to patriarchy. Justin: Yeah, I think you kind of said it, right? I think that there's something about hustling and figuring out, like, how am I gonna find some stability in this world. And I mean we have nominated each other for every single thing that there is. If either one of us gets a chance. Angela: Till the end of time. Justin: Till the end of time, right? And it's just, and I think that, and we've shared all information about everything. There's no, and I think that that's kind of like that quote that you read before, right, about this nostalgia and feeling nostalgic, not for the precarity, but for the way that it bonds people, right? The way that the precarity, like you pull, you share resources, you pull resources, you come together and you talk shit and you don't let people get too down in the dumps and depressed. And you're like, no, we're going to do this. We're going to get ourselves out of this hole and we're going to pull each other up. And, and that I think is like, that's, that's the secret, I think. Angela: Are you answering the question about men? Justin: Oh, men! Angela: And dealing with men. Justin: I love that I was just like, oh, you're talking about blow jobs. But no, you were talking about patriarchy. Lito: Same thing, really. Annie: In the room I'm in, we do not think there's a difference. Justin: It's fascinating, right? Because when we were at Iowa together, I remember some of the critiques I got from some of the men, some of the straight men, some of the white straight men, was about a kind of provincialism to my writing, right? That what I was writing about was small and minor and just about particularities of identity and that it wasn't broad and expansive and it wasn't universal. That was expected. That was the kind of critique that was expected. The world has changed so much and so quickly in the last 15 years. It's hard for me to kind of wrap my mind around because that kind of thing, I wasn't, I didn't feel indignant. Maybe I felt a little. Angela: Yeah, you just, but you just like knew you were going to ignore them. Like, you know, like, but no, but you didn't feel like you were going to, like it was worth, except there were some instances we're not going to get into details, but like, it didn't feel like it was worth spending, like unpacking it or trying to call them out. You just were like, Oh, boop, you're over here. Like, you're not. Justin: Yeah, yeah. Like, I've been hearing this shit my whole life. Like, it wasn't like, there's no space for this kind of thing in the workshop. I was like, this is the world. This is unexpected. But now I don't think that would fly, right? Angela: No. I think maybe in like 70% of workshop spaces that I have been in. Well, I guess I've been running them. But like, I just don't, but like also just the disposition of the students is that they assume that somebody is going to like say something or push back on that. But also I guess maybe more broadly the idea of when you say intersectionality, what do you mean exactly? Lito: I think I wanted to keep it open on purpose. But I think I mean the ways that all of these different identities that we take up and that are imposed upon us, how they intersect with one another, race, class, et cetera. Yeah. Angela: I think one of the reasons why Justin and I gravitated toward each other probably in the beginning and why we ended up in Spook is because I think that—which maybe is also not happening 15 years from then—there is a way that back then, there was a way that even your identity could be flattened, right? Like you're Puerto Rican, which means that you are like a lot of things, right? One of those things like, one of it's like we're both diasporic people, right? But that's one of the things that I think a lot of people would not necessarily think is like a kinship between us, but like I've seen pictures of Justin's cousins. I know I'm giving Primo over here. Like I know what I'm doing. And like that's one way that I think that our relationship feels like, like we just felt like kin when we first met because of that. I think that there's just a lot of ways that in a lot of spaces in this country, you're just not allowed to like have all of those parts of you in the room because people just don't understand it or they do, but they just don't want you to be that also. Justin: It's not convenient. Angela: Right. Which is why I was like, of course, Jason would ask you and I to be in Spook, which is a magazine that's a black literary magazine. Cause Jason gets it. Shout out to Jason again. Justin: I can't believe he's moving to L.A., that's so exciting. Angela: Supposedly like any day now, he's just gonna arrive. There's just ways that when you find your people, you don't have to always separate these parts of you and you don't always have to keep reminding them also, they sort of understand. But also parts of you change obviously and the way that you feel about your identity changes and your people will embrace that and keep, you know, keep making space for that too. Justin: Making space. Annie: We'll be back in a moment with Angela and Justin. Lito: (42:22) Hey Lit Fam, we hope you're enjoying our conversation with Justin and Angela. We are quite awed by their thoughtful discussion and moved by their deep love for each other and their art. If you love what we're doing, please take a moment now to follow, subscribe, rate, and review the LitFriends Podcasts on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and wherever you listen to podcasts. Just a few moments of your time will help us so much to continue bringing you great conversations like this week, after week. Thank you for listening. Annie: (42:59.178) Back to our interview with Justin Torres and Angela Flournoy. Lito: Justin, you have your sophomore book. How do you feel about it? Are you going to write a sequel for We the Animals like you talked about at one point? Angela, same question. Are there sequels coming forth for you, Angela, to Turner House, or are you moving on to something else? Or you sort of briefly mentioned another book about, uh, I remember you mentioning at some point a book about friends, four female friends, if I remember correctly. Anyways, what's coming next? Annie: Yeah, and I wanna know about the dreaded second novel because I feel like that's where I'm at. I feel like that's where a lot of writers get stuck. Jutin: Second novel's awful. I mean, you think the first one's bad. You think it takes everything that you have inside of you and then you're like, oh, I've gotta do it again. And yeah, I don't know. I really had a very hard time with it. And I mean, nobody knows better than Angela. I really, really didn't feel like I was up to the task. I knew that I wanted to do something different. I knew I wanted to kind of change the way I write and be a different kind of writer, but I just felt like I was falling on my face. Even after it was done and out until like last week, I was just, I just felt anxiety about it, and I felt really neurotic and I was being really neurotic. And I remember the other night we were hanging out and drinking and maybe there was some mushroom chocolate involved. I was just, like I was just on my bullshit and Angela was just like stopped and she was just like, What is it gonna take to make you happy? Like what is it gonna take? Like look around. And it was like, it was a really good intervention. But then it also led to this conversation about happiness, right? And about like whether that is the goal, right? Like feeling kind of tortured and, and feeling like this gap between what you want for your book and your own capabilities. And that never goes away. You just live in this, in this torturous phase. And like, maybe it's about just coming to acceptance with that, rather than striving for happiness. I don't know. But it's still ringing in my ear. What is it gonna take? Lito: It's a great question. Angela: Maybe some projection, I don't know, on my part. I am still working on that novel. It's due at the end or at the beginning of next year. It's gonna come out in 2025. You know, God willing. And... similarly the second novel, I think it depends on your disposition, but I think both of us are very interested in and task ourselves with having real skin in the game with what we right. That means sometimes you got to figure out where you get that skin from. Lito: There's only so much. Angela: Like, if you played yourself for the first book, then it's gonna take a while. And when I think about, like, when I try to count for the years, I don't know I could have done it any quicker. Like, I just don't know. And I don't think that's gonna be the case for every book, but I do think between that first and that second, especially, were you 30? Where were you? I was 30, yeah. And then I was 30, too. I was 30 also when my book came out. You're just a baby. You're just a baby. Lito: Do you fall into the trap of comparing yourself to other people? Well, they wrote a book in two years and I— Justin: (47:07) Yeah, sure. I mean, I also like compare myself to people who took longer like that feels good. That feels good. Angela: Listen, I'm like Deborah Eisenberg. Just a banger every decade. That's it. That's all I owe the world. A banger a decade. Lito: A banger a decade. I like that. I like comparing myself to Amy Clampitt, who wrote her first collection of poetry, like in her 70s or something and had some success. Justin: I generally wish people would slow down. I mean, I get that sometimes there's just like an economic imperative, right? But if you're lucky enough that, I don't know, you get a teaching job and you can slow down, why not slow down, right? Like, I don't know, sometimes I feel like there are a lot of books in this world. And the books that somebody spent a lot of time over, whether or not they are my tastes—I'm just so appreciative of the thoughtfulness that went in. You can feel it, right? That somebody was really considering what they're building versus dashing it off. They should slow down, if they can. Angela: But I also feel like we need both kinds. There are people who I appreciate their books, their kind of time capsules of just like, this is the two years, this is where I was. I think of Yiyun. We need an Yiyun Li and we need an Edward P. Jones. Edward P. Jones, you're gonna get those books when you get the books. And Yiyun Li, every couple years, you're gonna get something that, to me, I still, they still feel like really good books, but they're also just like, this is where she is right here, and I respect it and I appreciate it. Everybody can't be one or the other, you know? Justin: You're right, you're right, you're right. It's much fairer. Annie: She's someone who, I mean, you know, seems to have changed so much even within that time period. And we had her on a couple of episodes ago and yeah, she's just on fire. She's amazing. Justin: (49:06) And people speed up as well, right? Because her first couple of books, there were big gaps. And then same thing with like Marilynne Robinson, right? She had massive gaps between books. And then suddenly it starts to speed up. And they're coming out every year, every two years. Yeah. Annie: It's the mortality. Lito: Well, and life, well, I think lifestyle too, right? Like what you do, how busy you are and what you do out in the world. Like going out and meeting people and being gay in the world, that takes up time. Annie: And your work has had other lives too. I mean, I'm thinking about how We the Animals was adapted to film in that beautiful, intimate portrait. And I know, you know, Angela, you've been working with HBO and some projects as well. I'm just, just wondering if you want to talk about your work in these other media, how it's been, and even thinking about the strikes, right? Like the WGA-SAG strikes and how that has been on the ground too. Angela: Very happy that the strike is over. Solidarity to our SAG-AFTRA brothers and sisters still out there. I passed them on the way here on Sunset. I did honk, wish I was out there today. But I think that for me, it's just like a bonus. Like I, especially now, there's a way that right now writers will say things that are a little snobby like, Oh, I could never be in a writer's room, the group project, man. But like when now that I know so many TV writers living here and I've met so many over the past 146 days on the line, I realized that it is, you just have to be so nimble and agile and you have to also be so not precious about story. But no less smart. A lot of things might end up on TV dumb, but I don't want to blame the writers for that. Now that I really have a real understanding of just how the sausage is made and just how big of like a game of telephone it is—and how much you have to relinquish control because at the end of the day it's like you're making this text, it's literary, but it's also like an instruction manual. It's a completely different way to think about writing. And I don't know how long I live in LA or how many like of those kind of projects I will do but I'm really grateful. And one reason I'm really grateful is because doing those projects and having those years where people thought I wasn't doing anything, but I was actually writing so much and like doing so many revisions. It helped me realize that there is a way that I blame MFAs for making us like feel very siloed. And like, if you're supposed to be a fiction writer, that's the only thing that you do that's like an output that anyone cares about. But it's so new—like, how many screenplays did Joan Didion write? Like James Baldwin wrote screenplays. Before, it was just like, you're writing, you're writing. Like it's all, it all is the job. And I think every time a poet friend of mine like puts out a novel, sends it to me, read, sends it for me to read—first off, they usually are very good. But then also I'm just like, yes, fiction writers, I think, I don't know who did it. I blame graduate programs, but they have put themselves in this small box. Justin: But yeah, I mean, it's like the MFA, a lot of them feel like teacher training programs and that the next step is teaching. But if you don't want to teach the old models, definitely like you just write for TV. Angela: You write for film, you write for magazines, newspapers, you just do the thing. And that has felt very freeing to me, to just see meet more people who are doing that and also to allow myself to do that. Justin (52:49) Yeah, I mean, I really enjoyed the process of having my film—the book made into a film. I think I had an unusual experience with that. Like a lot of times the author is cut out or, you know, is not deferred to in any way, or nobody's inviting you in. I think because it was such a low budget film, and the director is just a really wonderful person who is incredibly collaborative. He wanted me involved in every single part of it, and so I loved that. I think, I don't know, I think I might wanna adapt Blackouts for a play. I've been thinking about it lately. Angela: You should. I mean, in so many ways, it is kind of like a two-hander. Yeah. I could see it. Yeah. Justin: A two-hander. Look at you ready to lingo. No, that's some biz lingo. Lito: That's going to be the title of this podcast. It's a two-hander. How has art shaped your friendship? And I mean, art, like other genres, we've talked about getting out of the box of fiction, but what movies or art or music do you love to talk about or do you just talk about everything or anything that you're watching and how have other genres affected your work? Like, do you listen to music? Are you influenced by visual art? Angela: You wanna talk about things you watch on television? You ready to come out in that manner? Justin: No. Lito: You watch lots of TV? No. Are you a Housewives person? You're a Housewives watcher, aren't you? Justin: Housewives is too highbrow for me. I have like a…I have a secret fetish that is mine. Angela: You have to keep some things for yourself. Justin: Yes. But it's just like, that's how I turn my brain off when my brain needs to be turned off. Annie: I will wait another decade for that story. Justin: I also like culture and high art as well. You write about art a lot. You do profiles. Angela: I do. I wish I did it more. It's just everything, you know, takes time. I think for me, like when I think about—I just am learning different ways to make a life out of, you know, out of your mind and out of art. And one thing that I've learned when I talk to, like visual artists, particularly, is this idea—I think poets also have this—but fiction writers, a friend of mine actually, a poet, recently asked me, like, how does a fiction writer get a practice, like a practice of writing? Practicing their craft in a way that like a visual artist, you know, they go to the studio practice or poet might have a practice. And I don't believe necessarily that sitting down to write every, you know, three hours every day is the same thing. Because like if you don't know what you're writing, but I really do think that practice is more grounded in reading. Justin: And reading, I think reading literature for sure, but also reading the world, right? And that's what you do when you go to an exhibit or you go to a museum or you go to a concert or whatever, right, you're like reading, you know, and you're reading the experience, you're reading for other things. Lito: Is there anything you're both fans of that you both talk about a lot? Any artists or musicians or movies? Justin (56:26) You know, I think that we have some lowbrow sharing tastes. But I think that our highbrow, I don't know. We don't talk a lot about our pursuant— I think I'm into a lot of, like when I was looking at, when I was putting together Blackouts, I was looking at a lot of archival photos and like the photos of Carl Van Vechten, I just, I'm obsessed with… I've been spending a lot of time with them, thinking about him and his practice. I think that, you know, I like all kinds of stuff. I'm like a whatever, what's that horrible term? Culture vulture? Angela: I don't think that's what you wanna say. But I know what you mean, yeah. Justin: Yeah, I am democratic in my tastes. I'm just like, I like everything. We don't have a lot of shared tastes, I don't think. Angela: Um... No? Justine: No. Annie: I sort of love that. I mean, it, um, the friendship, belies, that, you know, it's only a bonus in that way. I think Lito and I also have very different tastes. There's something kind of lovely about that. Lito: I remember Annie making fun of me for not being hardcore enough in my taste in hip-hop. Annie: I guess we're putting our dirt out there too. Lito: We'll be right back with the Lightning Round. Annie: Ooh, Lightning Round. Annie: (58:12) Thank you both for talking with us today. This was really wonderful. We really feel the honesty and warmth in your friendship and we're so appreciative that you're sharing that with us today and with all of our LitFriends. We're excited for both your books and we're so grateful you spent the last hour with us. Angela: That was a pleasure. Justin: Thank you. Lito: All right, we're gonna we— wrap up the podcast with a Lightning Round, just a few questions. We will ask the question and then I guess we'll do it this way. When I ask the question, Angela, you can answer. And when Annie asks the question, Justin, you answer first. Sorry, first answer first. You're both going to answer the question. What is your first memory? Angela: My sister roller skating through sprinklers and falling and hitting her head. Justin: I literally have no idea. I, yeah, I don't know. It's a blackout. Angela: How many times have you said that? Lito: Very on brand. Angela: You've had a long book tour. Justin: I'm practicing. Annie: Who or what broke your heart first? Angela: Is it too deep to say my daddy? I know. Justin: I was going to say my daddy. Angela: That's why we're friends. Justin: I know. It's so sad. Angela: (59:37) Daddy issues. Lito: Who would you want to be lit friends with from any time in history? Angela: Toni Morrison. Justin: Yeah, maybe Manuel Puig. He seemed really cap and hilarious. And also a brilliant genius. Angela: I need Toni Morrison to tell me how to raise my child. And to still write books. Someone help me. Annie: What would you like to see your lit friend make or create next, maybe something collaborative or something different or a story they haven't told yet? Justin: I mean, I think I would love to see you actually write something kind of ekphrastic. Like I'd love to see you write about art. I love when you write about art. I love your thoughts about art and art makers. So maybe, like, a collection of essays about culture. I'd love that. Angela: Besides this two-handed, this play, which I would love for you to write. Maybe there's more, I mean, there's more voices in the book than two, though. So it doesn't have to be. Justin is a poet. I have said this since the beginning. I'm ready for this collection. Justin: Never occurred to me in my life. Angela: That is not true. Justin: Well, writing a collection. Angela: Okay, well, I would love for you to write a collection of poetry. Justin: Maybe I will. Maybe you just gave me permission, as the children say. Angela: Mm-hmm. I know. Lito: If you could give any gift to your LitFriend without limitations, what would you give them? Angela: I would give him a house with a yard and a pool. Justin: That's what I want. Angela: In a city he wants to live in. That's the key. Lito: That's the hard part. Justin: (01:01:35) Um, I would give Angela time to be with her thoughts and her craft. I guess what does that involve? Angela: This is because I call myself a busy mom all the time. Justin: You are a busy mom. Angela: (01:02:08) Thank you, that's a nice gift. Time is the best. Justin: I mean, it's not as good as a house with a pool. Angela: I know, because I can use my time as wisely as possible and yet—no pool. Lito: Well, that's our show. Annie & Lito: Happy Friendsgiving! Annie: Thanks for joining us, Lit Fam. Lito: We'll be back next week with our guests, Lucy Corin and Deb Olin Unferth. Annie: Find us on all your socials @LitFriendsPodcast. Annie: I'm Annie Liontas. Lito: And I'm Lito Velázquez. Annie: Thank you to our production squad. Our show is edited by Justin Hamilton. Lito: Our logo was designed by Sam Schlenker. Annie: Lizette Saldaña is our marketing director. Lito: Our theme song was written and produced by Robert Maresca. Annie: And special thanks to our show producer, Toula Nuñez. This was LitFriends, Episode One.
Show Notes On our inaugural episode, co-hosts Annie Liontas and Lito Velázquez introduce LitFriends, a podcast. Each week, we welcome two literary friends to discuss the writing life, how literary friendships get us through tough times, and what they love about their literary bestie. Join Annie and Lito for Season One as they speak with today's most engaging literary talents and their lit friends. Coming up this season, conversations with: * Justin Torres & Angela Flournoy * Lucy Corin & Deb Olin Unferth * Melissa Febos & Donika Kelly * Yiyun Li & Edmund White * George Saunders & Paula Saunders * Liz Moore & Asali Solomon * CJ Hauser & Marie-Helene Bertino * and more! Links https://sites.libsyn.com/494238 www.annieliontas.com www.litovelazquez.com https://linktr.ee/litfriendspodcast https://www.instagram.com/litfriendspodcast/ https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61553436475678 https://justin-torres.com/ https://www.angelaflournoy.com/ https://www.lucycorin.com/ https://debolinunferth.com/ https://www.melissafebos.com/ https://www.donikakelly.com/ https://georgesaundersbooks.com/ https://paulasaundersbooks.com/ https://www.lizmoore.net/ https://www.asalisolomon.com/ https://cjhauser.com/ https://www.mariehelenebertino.com/ Transcript Annie & Lito: (00:01) Hey, LitFriends! Annie: Thanks for joining us for episode zero. This episode is a little special because we'll introduce you, our LitFam, to the LitFriends podcast. We'll talk about our origins, our season one guests, and how much I love Lito. Aww, and how much I love you, Annie. Annie: This is Annie Liontas. Lito: And I'm Lito Velázquez. Welcome to LitFriends, a podcast in which we speak with novelists, poets, memoirists, writers, and thinkers of all kinds about the great work that they do in the world, on and off the page, and about their great literary friendships. Annie: This show has everything, British nicknames, e-flirtations, picking up fam when they're down, literary competition, rooting for one another, and more. Lito: And much, much more. Join us this season as we welcome the amazing writers: Annie & Lito: * Marie-Helene Bertino and CJ Hauser * Liz Moore and Asali Solomon * George Saunders and Paula Saunders * Yiyun Lee and Edmund White * Melissa Febos and Danika Kelly * Deb Olin-Unferth and Lucy Corin * Justin Torres and Angela Flournoy Annie & Lito: Get ready to get lit! Lito: Welcome to the show. I'm so glad we're here, Annie. It's been a long time coming. We've been thinking about– Annie: Ages! Lito: …making this show for over a year and a half, pretty much since the pandemic, though. So maybe more like two or three years. Annie: Yeah, I feel like I've waited my whole life to do this show with you, Lito. Lito: I know I've been wanting someone to collaborate with, and you're the perfect friend to do this with. A show about two of our greatest loves, writing, literature— Annie: Friendship! Lito: And friendship. Yeah, I guess that's three things. Annie: The more the merrier. Lito: The more the merrier. Every week we're going to have writers on the show who we admire, whose work has moved us deeply, and whose friendships we think are really impressive and interesting. Annie: Yeah, we're going to talk about literary competition between friends, hardships, how you pick one another up when you're down. Heartbreak. Lito: Big wins, like celebrating things. It's amazing the stories that have come out of these conversations because people get to talk about their friends, and how great is that? Annie: They really talk about parts of their friendship that they don't even talk about with one another. Lito: That's right, because when do you get a chance to really talk to your friend about them. Annie: (02:20) When do you say to your friend, I love you? Lito: I love you. But beyond just I love you, like, here's all the reasons why I love you. Here's what you do in my life. That's really great. Here's why you're beautiful, not just in the work that you do, but how you show up as a person. And that's not how writers get portrayed. We were looking for a project to interview people who we thought were great and interesting. And you were already doing that, right? Annie: Yeah, I was doing that with the Gloss interview series with Marie-Helene Bertino, and a number of others, through Electric Lit, Bomb, The Believer. That really arose out of pandemic, when I saw all of these amazing writers who weren't really able to share their work because of the pandemic. Lito: So, one day we were sitting at your house, Annie, I don't know if you remember this, on your couch and we were talking about writing podcasts and making podcasts. I've been wanting to do one for a really long time and I've been writing for a long time, and I've spoken with different people about it, and it's never quite worked out. This is the first time when we both came up with a great idea. I said, "I think it would be really great to talk to people about their friendships, because no one really does that enough." And then you said, I don't know if you remember, you said, "what if we got literary friendships? Because they're so special, like ours." Ours is a friendship on a deep, deep level, but we're like family, but we're also in this very unique world, which is the writing world. Annie: In the struggle. Lito: In the struggle! Annie: In the never ending struggle! Yes. In the never ending struggle that is writing. We know a lot about the industry. We both got our MFA at Syracuse University, though at very different times. And we love people, we love friends, and we love great writing. And so it made perfect sense to make a podcast about it. Annie: You know, and I don't think I could do this with anybody else. I have a lot of lit friends—making this with you is has been so special. It's something I'm going to hold on to forever. Lito: It's such a pleasure and a joy. Annie: One of the great similarities and worldviews that we share. I mean, we're both queer. We both have the immigrant experience. Lito: That's right. Annie: (04:39) And I think that a lot of what literary friendships are, are in fact quite queer, right? Like there is a there's a queering of the experience simply in recognizing. This is chosen family and this is how we get through. Lito: The thing that surprises me the most and you'll see when you hear these interviews is the material that comes out. It's like nothing else. And people want to get so intimate and so comfortable because they're speaking about their favorite person who's intimate in their lives, but in a special way that has to do with writing. Annie: Yeah. You know, and this for me came out of thinking a lot about the function and the role of literary friendships. I mean, we can all remember back to Bad Art Friend and other pieces that were run in places like the New York Times, maybe unnecessarily glorifying and dramatizing the kinds of drama, just straight drama between former friends, right? And there's a whole lot of, I mean, there's an entire lineage and inheritance of this. And the writer, Isle McElroy writes about this in Esquire and talks about, you know, there are like all those great historical feuds, usually between straight white dudes. Like— We're not wrong. Like when Mailer headbutts Gore Vidal or Gabriel Garcia Marquez gets punched out by Mario Vargas Llosa because he told his wife to divorce him. You know, and so that's what we remember culturally. That's sort of what we glorify. But the reality, and what we're hearing in all of these conversations is what feeds us and what nourishes us is actually these friendships that pick us up when we're down, that celebrate us when we have these successes, without limitation or inhibition, really allow us to rise to our better selves to put our egos and fears and insecurities about our own writing success down so that we can do that for one another. And so for me, this podcast is actually the reality. This is the reality of how writers get by, and how they get through. Lito: (07:02) That's right. I think we have this idea in our cultural imagination that writers sit in a room by themselves in the dark or with a candlelight and a pencil, and they just, from their brain, pull out a story out of nowhere because they are "inspired to." Whereas actually all writing is generated, I think from lots of conversations with people living and dead, but especially close literary friendships in which the intimacy revolves around writing. It's a community practice, but it's a friend practice. We don't show our work to just everyone. We show it to our literary friends, our first readers. And we talk about literature in a certain way with other writers who we admire and whose work we think is somehow symbiotic with our own, even if we're doing completely different practices. Annie: Yeah, it's about sharing the work, but it's also about sharing the vulnerabilities. I'm thinking about Asali Solomon and Liz Moore, who will have later this season, who are both part of the Claw, a writer's salon for women and non-binary writers in Philadelphia. And, you know, they don't necessarily share work, but they share experiences. They commiserate, they talk about their anxieties, they talk about their successes. And it really makes me think about the industry necessity of having mutual knowledge like this. When publishers want to keep us really divided as writers and artists, right? If we are quiet in our corners and not collaborating, then we actually don't have the kind of collective understanding of how to advocate for ourselves, how to protect our work, and how to support one another. Lito: Yes, and I'm thinking of Angela Flournoy, whose first novel was shortlisted for the National Book Award, and Justin Torres, who just won the National Book Award. And their conversation with us, in which they really get into the boostering of each other, the promoting of each other, the helping each other through, the counseling each other through, that happens in these quiet spaces between friends on the phone, like with Lucy Corin and Deb Olin Unferth. I think you'll join us for an incredible season of inspiring conversations in which we talk to some of the best thinkers of our time. Both: Happy Friendsgiving LitFam! Lito: In our first episode, we speak with Justin Torres and Angela Flournoy, available for download on Friendsgiving, Friday, November 24th. Join us. Annie: Find us on all your socials at LitFriends Podcast. Annie & Lito: (09:24) Thank you to our production squad for all their hard work. Our show is edited by Justin Hamilton. Our logo was designed by Sam Schlenker. Lizette Saldana is our marketing director. Our theme song was written and produced by Robert Maresca. And special thanks to our show producer, Tula Nunez. Annie: This was LitFriends, Episode 0.
In Episode 63, Matt and Dave talk to Deb Olin Unferth—author of the fantastic novels Barn 8 and Vacation, short story collections Wait Till You See Me Dance and Minor Robberies, and the memoir Revolution—about her writing, research, and creative writing teaching. Contact Deb about Pen-City - pencitywriters@gmail.com Deb's Instagram -https://www.instagram.com/debolinunferth Deb's Shipman Agency page - https://www.theshipmanagency.com/deb-olin-unferth Wikipedia - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deb_Olin_Unferth Contact Matt and Dave: Email - concavityshow@gmail.com Twitter - https://twitter.com/ConcavityShow Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/concavityshow/ Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/concavityshow/ Patreon - https://www.patreon.com/concavityshow Threadless Merch Store - https://concavityshow.threadless.com/
di Matteo B. Bianchi | In questa puntata andiamo al mare, sulla splendida isola di Procida dove Natalia Ambrosini ci parla della libreria Nutrimenti. Usciamo poi dalla coda lunga di traduttori specializzati in area anglofona per conoscere Fulvio Ferrari, professore e traduttore di lingue germaniche e del nord Europa. Infine, lo scrittore Piersandro Pallavicini ci dà il suo personale consiglio di lettura. -Libri citati in questa puntataL'ARTE DI LEGARE LE PERSONE di Paolo Milone, EinaudiL'ACQUA DEL LAGO NON È MAI DOLCE di Giulia Caminito, BompianiCAPANNONE N.8 di Deb Olin Unferth, SURLa libraia Natalia Ambrosini della libreria Nutrimenti di Procida ha consigliato:BERTA ISLA di Javier Marías, EinaudiTUTTO SARÀ PERFETTO di Lorenzo Marone, FeltrinelliLA PICCOLA CONFORMISTA di Ingrid Seymann, SellerioIl traduttore Fulvio Ferrari consiglia:IL SERPENTE di Stig Dagerman, IperboreaORATORIO DI NATALE di Göran Tunström, IperboreaInfine, lo scrittore Piersandro Pallavicini ci ha suggerito: LA ZATTERA ASTRONOMICA di Giulia Bignami, La Nave Di Teseo
Deb Olin Unferth is the author of six books of fiction and nonfiction. Her most recent book Barn 8 was named a best book of 2020 by NPR, Slate, Austin Chronicle, and Literary Hub. She has received a Guggenheim Fellowship and three Pushcart Prizes. An advocate of prison reform, Unferth founded and runs the Pen City Writers, a creative-writing certificate program at a maximum security prison in southern Texas.
Sara and Ashley are back for the third series of Vegan Curious, the podcast for anyone interested in becoming vegan and finding more out about vegan culture. In this episode, they discuss a Veganuary like no other. Including... * Lots of tips for getting through Veganuary * The top new vegan launches this month from vegan quiche to vegan salad cream and beyond * Morrisson's rather cool new vegan starter pack * Vegan book special including an extended interview with Deb Olin Unferth, author of a brilliant new novel, Barn 8, that takes in animal rights issues, social activism, veganism and how super chickens might out live humans
Nadine is joined this week on IN HER LENS by the fantastic Sarah Adina Smith. After a series of shorts including The Sirens, Sarah directed her features The Midnight Swim and Busters Mal Heart. She directed episodes on HBO’s Room 104, TBS' WRECKED, and LEGION on FX. Sarah directed the first two episodes of Amazon Studios action thriller series Hanna, as well as serving as a co-executive producer on the project. Most recently, she directed the pilot for the Hulu series Looking for Alaska and is currently in post-production for her new film Birds of Paradise. In this episode, Sarah and Nadine talk about her journey through the industry- navigating money, rejection, and inspiration. They talk about the making of her films- the writing of scriptments and ambitious plans on a small budget. Sarah talks about directing episodes, fighting for pilots, and shooting in a pandemic.In this episode we talk about the following works: Luster by Raven Leilani, Barn 8 by Deb Olin Unferth, Lead Belly, Benjamin Clementine, Frohawk Two Feathers, Contact. Sarah Adina Smith is an American writer, director, editor, and producer. Her work is available on a variety of streaming platforms, like HBO, Netflix, and Amazon Prime. You can also follow her on Instagram and Twitter. Sarah is married to cinematographer and musician Shaheen Seth. Nadine Reumer is a Dutch actress and podcaster based between Amsterdam and New York City. For further information on her work & to get in contact, visit her website: www.nadinereumer.com See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.
Deb Olin Unferth is a Chicago-born, Texas-based author who has been impressing readers for some years now with her mixture of short stories, novels and memoirs, which have appeared everywhere from The New York Times and Harper's to literary heavyweight journal Granta.She is a three-time winner of the Pushcart Prize, a finalist for a National Book Critics' Circle Award (for her memoir 'Revolution', about the period in her late teens when she dropped out of university and rushed to Nicaragua with her boyfriend to try and help the Sandinista uprising) and is the recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship.In addition, she works as an Associate Professor of Literature at the University of Texas at Austin and is the founder-director of The Pen-City Writers: a two-year creative writing certificate programme from UTA run with inmates at a maximum-security prison in southern Texas - a programme which has seen her receive an award from the Governor of Texas for her civic work. Her most recent work - "Barn 8" (the story of an ambitious caper to liberate almost a million hens from a commercial egg farm) - was released just at the start of lockdown and has enjoyed great critical acclaim. She spoke to our Artistic Director Paddy Cooper from her home in Austin. Follow Dark Unicorn Productions here and on all good podcast providers for the latest content, and also follow us on: Youtube: http://tiny.cc/DUTubeTwitter: http://www.twitter.com/DarkUnicornUKInstagram: http://www.instagram.com/darkunicorntheatreFacebook: http://www.facebook.com/darkunicorntheatreTo support the work of Dark Unicorn Productions, visit http://www.darkunicorn.org/support-usCREDITS: Written, Presented and Edited by Paddy Cooper Title Sequence: Matt McGurk (http://www.matthewmcgurk.com)Title Music: Curtis Batson (http://www.curtbmusic.com)Special thanks to: The estate of James LiptonExecutive Producer: Eleanor Stourton See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.
Chosen by our Patreon Patrons, we read Barn 8 by Deb Olin Unferth this week. It is part heist, part animal rights political satire (??). Anyway, here's our thoughts. Please don't be mad at us. Next time we will be reading Luster by Raven Leilani. You can find it at your local bookstore or library and read along with us. Get two months for the price of one at Libro.fm with the code "bookstore" at checkout. Patreon | Website
This week we're discussing a Deb Olin Unferth story about an adjunct professor who knows when people will die, "Wait Till You See Me Dance," which prompts a discussion of our own brief tenure as adjuncts, and our current tenure as (non-tenure-track) professors, and how we're feeling about the upcoming semester. Also: dark humor, reading for surprise, and falling down wells. Unferth's story first appeared in Harper's, in 2009, and was the title story of her 2017 story collection. You can read the story here, via Electric Lit: https://electricliterature.com/a-story-of-a-murderous-adjunct-professor-by-deb-olin-unferth/ If you like the show, and would like more Book Fight in your life, you can join our Patreon and get bonus episodes every month. For $5, you'll get access to our regular series Book Fight After Dark, where we read steamy (and sometimes very weird!) romance novels. We're also putting out other bonus content, including Reading the Room, where we give writers advice on navigating their lives. The $5/month also helps us keep making the show, which we enjoy doing but also don't get paid for. Join up here: https://www.patreon.com/BookFight Thanks for listening! Come on back next week!
Hey CATS-heads - this week we are releasing a Patreon exclusive episode because we ran out of ideas. Hope you're ready for 53 minutes of us talking about CATS, Old Possum's Book of them, stage productions, insane CGI monstrosities, which CATS is horniest, Becca's better theory about Deuteronomy. All of it. We will be back next week with our discussion of Barn 8 by Deb Olin Unferth. You can get it from a local bookstore or library and read along with us. Take a quiz. An article by Jia Tolentino.
We're a bit late this week, but we have reigned victorious over midterms and work functions and an election to bring you a discussion of Namwali Serpell's magically realistic, somewhat science fictional, family history of Zambia, The Old Drift. Next time we will be discussing Barn 8 by Deb Olin Unferth. And after that, Luster by Raven Leilani. Mentioned in this episode: Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi The Only Harmless Great Thing by Brooke Bolander Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad The Zambian "Afronaut" Who Wanted to Join the Space Race by Namwali Serpell for the New Yorker Libro.fm Use code "bookstore" at checkout for two months for the price of one. Patreon Website
-This episode is brought to you in part by the Barnard Medical Center. To set up a telehealth appointment today call 202-527-7500 or on pcrm.org. -In the intro to the show, Jasmin and Mariann present virtually at Main Street Vegan Academy, Jasmin's interview with Joaquin Phoenix is now available, and Mariann recorded a new Animal Law Podcast episode. We also talk about the new collection of essays Jasmin edited for Encompass and the ongoing quarantine. We also continue our Supporting Vegan Businesses program by shouting out Compton Vegan. Later in the episode, Mariann brings us Rising Anxieties! -Mariann talks to author and activist Deb Olin Unferth about her new novel, Barn 8, and how she came to the story of auditors going rogue and plotting to free one million chickens. She delves into the research she did leading up to writing the book, how her investigations into the egg industry informed the book, and the inspiration she took from recording the chatter of chickens. (23:10) -Mariann brings us the latest Rising Anxieties from the industrial animal ag world. (1:05:17)
Jessica Anthony's Enter the Aardvark and Deb Olin Unferth's Barn 8 both engage with the ethics of contemporary political and cultural realities. In tonight's virtual conversation the two novelists (and longtime friends) get a chance to compare and contrast Anthony's novel of Washington corruption, deception, and absurdity, and Unferth's novel of industrial farming and the complexity of activism. (Recorded April 27, 2020)
Deb Olin Unferth is the author of the memoir Revolution: The Year I Fell in Love and Went to Join the War, finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award; the story collection Minor Robberies; and the novel Vacation, winner of the Cabell First Novel Award. Her work appears in Harper's, The Paris Review, McSweeney's, Tin House, Granta, and elsewhere. She has received three Pushcart Prizes, and a grant from Creative Capital for Innovative Literature. Her newest novel is Barn 8 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Deb Olin Unferth is the guest. Her new novel Barn 8 is now available from Graywolf Press. It is the official March pick of the TNB Book Club. This is Deb's second time on the program. She first appeared in Episode 178 on May 29, 2013. Unferth is the author of six books, including Wait Till You See Me Dance and Revolution. She has received a Guggenheim Fellowship and three Pushcart Prizes, and was a National Book Critics Circle Award finalist. Her work has appeared in Granta, Harper’s, McSweeney’s, and The Paris Review. She lives in Austin, Texas. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
In this episode, poet Rigoberto González and novelist Deb Olin Unferth discuss how literary life has altered under COVID-19. González, director of the MFA program at Rutgers University-Newark, talks to Fiction/Non/Fiction podcast co-hosts V.V. Ganeshananthan and Whitney Terrell about the struggles universities face in the transition to online classes, and also reads from his latest collection, The Book of Ruin; Unferth speaks about her new novel, Barn 8, its disrupted book tour, and what we can learn from animals and nature as we navigate a global pandemic. To hear the full episode, subscribe to the Fiction/Non/Fiction podcast through iTunes, Google Play, Stitcher, Spotify, or your favorite podcast app (include the forward slashes when searching). You can also listen by streaming from the player below. And this episode, for the first time, we feature video excerpts of our interviews. See LitHub's Virtual Book Channel and Fiction/Non/Fiction's YouTube Channel for more. Guests: Rigoberto González Deb Olin Unferth Selected readings for the episode: Rigoberto González The Book of Ruin from "Apocalipsixtlán" [5. Signs of the End of the World] by Rigoberto González - Poems Butterfly Boy Deb Olin Unferth Barn 8: A Novel Deb Olin Unferth Didn't Expect to Be Writing From the Point of View of a Chicken (LitHub) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
This week’s guest is Deb Olin Unferth, author of Barn 8 (Graywolf Press, March 3), a blazing heist story starring a sharp and funny 15-year-old from Brooklyn who, through a series of misfortunes over a number of years, becomes a U.S. egg industry auditor and foments a revolution. Kirkus: “If this novel isn’t a movement, it has enough heart to start one” (starred review). Then our editors join with their reading recommendations for the week, including books by Carole Lindstrom and Michaela Goade, Gene Luen Yang, Rebecca Solnit, and Lorrie Moore.
NYC — Andrew Weatherhead was born in Chicago, Illinois. He is the author of $50,000 (2020), Todd (2018) and Cats & Dogs (2014). He began writing $50,000 in 2015. I read $50,000 probably four times, each time in a single sitting, over the past fortnight since its release. Purchase $50,000 from Publishing Genius: https://www.publishinggenius.com/product/50000/ # POD CONTENTS 3 min - pod start 6 min - comin in hot w wittgenstein tractatus bars/the inadequacy/importance/absurdity of language 11 min - on Facts/‘fake news’ 17 min - on the title, $50,000 21 min - on working a 9-to-5 24 min - “wait until you see me dance” by Deb Olin Unferth and writing about office life 27 min - things only mean in context / a setting 30 min - “the things that no one knows about you are how you know yourself” but also “you can only know yourself thru ppl” 31 min - money only works when we agree on its value 35 min - mfa gripes 38 min - redacted mfa quote htmlgiant story 44 min - on humor/laughter 45 min - “Winners” by Nicolette Polek from Imaginary Museums (2020) 49 min - on literary readings 51 min - on concision/editing/first drafts 56 min - on Time/cycles 59 min - on neuroscience 1 hr 2 min - writing vs. medicine 1 hr 5 min - on Satantango (1985) by Laszlo Krasznahorkai 1 hr 9 min - line breaks vs block text 1 hr 15 min - on Names 1 hr 18 min - “Joe Loser Jr.” 1 hr 23 min - writing about writing 1 hr 25 min - art-making in 2020 # Referenced pieces: "Origin of the World" (collage of book blurbs): http://thefanzine.com/the-origin-of-the-world/ Selected tweets: http://muumuuhouse.com/ajw.twitter.2009-2014.html Creative independent interview: https://thecreativeindependent.com/people/poet-andrew-weatherhead-on-hijacking-language/ $50,000 excerpt: http://magazine.nytyrant.com/from-50000-andrew-weatherhead/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/weeatherhead?ref_src=twsrc%5Egoogle%7Ctwcamp%5Eserp%7Ctwgr%5Eauthor # Sean Thor Conroe lives in New York City. https://twitter.com/stconroe https://instagram.com/seanthorconroe https://1storyhaus.com
Sarah Rose Etter is the guest. Her debut novel, The Book of X, is available from Two Dollar Radio. She is also the author of the chapbookTongue Party, selected by Deb Olin Unferth as the winner of the Caketrain Press award. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Cut, Electric Literature, Guernica, VICE, New York Tyrant, Juked, Night Block, The Black Warrior Review, Salt Hill Journal, The Collagist, and more. She is the co-founder of the TireFire Reading Series, and a contributing editor at The Fanzine. She has also served as an arts columnist at Philadelphia Weekly. She has been awarded residences at Disquiet International program in Portugal and the Gullkistan Writing Residency in Iceland. In 2017, she was the keynote speaker at the Society for the Study of American Women Writers conference in Bordeaux, France, where she presented on surrealist writing as a mode of feminism. She earned her B.A. in English from Pennsylvania State University and her M.F.A. in Fiction from Rosemont College. In today's monologue, I respond to listener mail. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
No, this episode isn’t about hairstyles! Co-hosts Caitlin Dillon and Heather Daugherty discuss braided prose, which weaves together different narrative strands. Featured is an example of a braided essay, “Breathless” by Ryan Cahill from our 2019 issue, plus a shout-out to acclaimed writer Deb Olin Unferth. Justin Janorschke describes the literary magazine Wit Tea, which […]
In this episode, Joseph Fink picks Vacation by Deb Olin Unferth, and Kate Gavino discusses It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini. This episode of Recommended is sponsored by Ruth Bader Ginsburg by Jane Sherron De Hart and TBR.
Time Codes: 00:26 - Introduction 02:39 - Setup of interview 03:51 - Interview with Deb Olin Unferth and Elizabeth Haidle 51:36 - Wrap up 52:27 - Contact us On this interview episode, Derek talks with Deb Olin Unferth and Elizabeth Haidle on the publication of their new book, I, Parrot (Black Balloon-Catapult). This is a graphic novel in the truest sense, a work of fiction, about a middle-aged woman who's prone to bad luck. She stumbles upon a bird-sitting job, caring for an aviary of exotic, rare, and very expensive parrots, and despite the help of her boyfriend and her young son, falls prey to a series of misfortunes that lead to unintended, yet not entirely tragic, consequences. Both Deb and Beth share their experiences working together on this project, the collaborative rhythm they established, and how their previous creations reflect on this graphic novel. This is Deb's first work in comics, having previously established a career as a writer of prose fiction. And while Beth's experiences in comics art is more extensive, this is her first effort in "adult" long-form graphic narrative. Derek also asks his guests about their other current projects and any possible plans to collaborate on future projects.
n the sixth episode of Perceived Value host Sarah Rachel Brown sits down with the Philadelphia-based writer Sarah Rose Etter. The two women discuss Etter's path to becoming a published author, the joys of being a prison reporter, and how one finds themselves isolated in Iceland writing a novel. Sarah Rose Etter is the author of Tongue Party (Caketrain Press), which was the winner of the 2010 Caketrain Award as judged by Deb Olin Unferth. Her work has appeared or or is forthcoming in Vice, Juked, Hobart, Black Warrior Review, Salt Hill Journal, and more. She is a contributing editor at The Fanzine alongside Blake Butler, and a columnist at Philadelphia Weekly. Her work has been translated into French by Editions Do. She has presented work at the Society for the Study of American Writers, and was an attendee of the Gullkistan Artist Residency in Iceland. www.sarahroseetter.com www.twitter.com/sarahroseetter www.instagram.com/sarahroseetter
Episode #5 of The Talking Book Podcast featuring Deb Olin Unferth and her book "Wait Till You See Me Dance."
Turf (Counterpoint Press) Blazing through states, cities, towns, continents, Crane fearlessly pivots from micro to macro, humor to tragedy, past to present, mixing an off-kilter sensibility with a heartbreaking reality, guiding us into the fringed and often fantastical lives of her characters. And that has never been truer than in her new collection, Turf. The end of the world as seen through a young couple in Brooklyn, who find a baby in a bucket on their front step; a group of geniuses who meet every Wednesday, able to unlock all the secrets of the universe except for the unknowable mystery of love; a woman and her dog walker whose friendship is uprooted by an incident at the park; these are dark, intriguing vistas explored in Crane’s glowing collection. For as places change, and people come and go, these stories in Turf remind us that it is the unchanging nature of the human heart that connects us all. Praise for Elizabeth Crane: "The novel flows smoothly, and readers game for offbeat narrative approaches will be well rewarded . . . So much like the relationship they’re borne of, Crane’s deeply realized mother-daughter inventions are therapeutic and ruthless, heartfelt and crushing. A lovely exercise in the wild, soothing wonders of imagination.” —Booklist, Starred Review “Poignant and hilarious . . . Crane writes about the relationship between a deceased mother and her daughter as they tell each other’s stories to understand each other.” —Los Angeles Times “Imagine sitting at a leisurely dinner with two intelligent women, a mother and daughter . . . The format may be experimental, but the emotions the book will stir in readers are moving and heartbreakingly familiar.” —Library Journal “I cannot remember the last time I simultaneously cried and laughed as hard as I did while reading Elizabeth Crane’s glorious, tender knockout of a novel, The History of Great Things. Wait, yes I can. It was the last time I spoke to my mom about life.” —Amber Tamblyn, author of Dark Sparkler “A poignant dual narrative . . . Alternating between laugh-out-loud humor and heart-rending melancholy, Crane gives us a mother and daughter who never quite grasp each other’s life stories, but who find truth through unconditional love.” —Bookpage “Ultimately, The History of Great Things is a story of perception, one well worth reading. It serves as a reminder that what truly matters to each of us is not what actually happens, but how we remember it.” —The Rumpus “An important work, fearless in both structure and vision, with Crane’s razor-edge fusion of intelligence, humor, and emotion informing every chapter. Get ready, world: this one’s going to be huge.” —Jamie Quatro, author of I Want to Show You More “Like everything Elizabeth Crane writes, The History of Great Things is wonderful fun to read—smart, insightful, and witty—but it will break your heart, too. It stares down the poignant question so many daughters want to ask: How well did my mother really know me?” —Pamela Erens, author of Eleven Hours and The Virgins “The Copelands would feel right at home in a Noah Baumbach movie . . . Our narrator is an omniscient ‘We’ who reports the goings-on of the family with the breathless glee of an incurable gossip.”—Entertainment Weekly “Its style is literary, with an edge: The point of view is wicked, the characters prickly, the language not quite quotable here. I can’t wait to read past the first chapter.”—Los Angeles Times “Like any good story writer, she had me in the first two paragraphs . . . A treat to read. The characters are crisp and enjoyable; the narrator is smart and witty.”—Iowa Press-Citizen “This is an irresistible and winsome read. A truly astute tale of love neglected and reclaimed, family resiliency, spiritual inquiries, and personal metamorphoses.” —Booklist, Starred Review “Crane delivers a unique and dizzying tale that delves into the emotional life of a family teetering on the brink of everything . . . The beauty in Crane’s novel is her sweep from acid commentary to heartfelt portrayal of real-life loves and losses.” —Kirkus Reviews“Crane’s novel is filled with deliciously idiosyncratic characters, humorous and distinct narration, and a whole lot of personality. Each character’s emotional growth is just enough to satisfy, without being overbearing . . . Crane’s summer novel has undeniable heart.” —Publishers Weekly “At last a novel from Elizabeth Crane! With her expert humorist’s eye for detail, she gives us a playful, passionate story of longing, heartbreak, and of the gargantuan human will. You won’t be able to stop reading.” —Deb Olin Unferth, author of Revolution“Not since The Royal Tenenbaums have I loved a family so much. The Copelands of We Only Know So Much are wonderfully eccentric, hilariously not self-aware and strangely adorable. They seemed so real, I felt like I was reading my own family story.” —Jessica Anya Blau, author of The Summer of Naked Swim Parties and Drinking Closer to Home“This is the kind of book that inspires a person to see the beauty in the ordinary, to stop concentrating on others’ failings long enough to see their spark and maybe rediscover his or her own.”—Susan Henderson, author of Up from the Blue“A beautiful, warmhearted, ferociously honest debut that will pull you in with its chorus of true voices and catch you off guard with its playful, restless edginess.” —Patrick Somerville, author of The Cradle and This Bright River Elizabeth Crane is the author of the novels The History of Great Things and We Only Know So Much and three collections of short stories. Her stories have been featured on NPR’s Selected Shorts. She is a recipient of the Chicago Public Library 21st Century Award, and her work has been adapted for the stage by Chicago’s Steppenwolf Theatre Company. She currently lives in Newburgh, New York
Temporary People (Restless Books) In the United Arab Emirates, foreign nationals constitute over 80 percent of the population. Brought in to construct and serve the towering monuments to wealth that punctuate the skylines of Abu Dhabi and Dubai, this labor force is not given the option of citizenship. Some ride their luck to good fortune. Others suffer different fates. Until now, the humanitarian crisis of the so-called “guest workers” of the Gulf has barely been addressed in fiction. With his stunning, mind-altering debut novel Temporary People, Deepak Unnikrishnan delves into their histories, myths, struggles, and triumphs. Combining the linguistic invention of Salman Rushdie and the satirical vision of George Saunders, Unnikrishnan presents twenty-eight linked stories that careen from construction workers who shapeshift into luggage and escape a labor camp, to a woman who stitches back together the bodies of those who’ve fallen from buildings in progress, to a man who grows ideal workers designed to live twelve years and then perish—until they don’t, and found a rebel community in the desert. With this polyphony of voices, Unnikrishnan maps a new, unruly global English and gives personhood back to the anonymous workers of the Gulf. Praise for Temporary People "Guest workers of the United Arab Emirates embody multiple worlds and identities and long for home in a fantastical debut work of fiction, winner of the inaugural Restless Books Prize for New Immigrant Writing.... The author's crisp, imaginative prose packs a punch, and his whimsical depiction of characters who oscillate between two lands on either side of the Arabian Sea unspools the kind of immigrant narratives that are rarely told. An enchanting, unparalleled anthem of displacement and repatriation." —Kirkus Reviews, starred review “Inaugural winner of the Restless Books Prize for New Immigrant Writing, this debut novel employs its own brand of magical realism to propel readers into an understanding and appreciation of the experience of foreign workers in the Arab Gulf States (and beyond). Through a series of almost 30 loosely linked sections, grouped into three parts, we are thrust into a narrative alternating between visceral realism and fantastic satire.... The alternation between satirical fantasy, depicting such things as intelligent cockroaches and evil elevators, and poignant realism, with regards to necessarily illicit sexuality, forms a contrast that gives rise to a broad critique of the plight of those known euphemistically as “guest workers.” VERDICT: This first novel challenges readers with a singular inventiveness expressed through a lyrical use of language and a laserlike focus that is at once charming and terrifying. Highly recommended.” —Henry Bankhead, Library Journal, Starred Review “Deepak writes brilliant stories with a fresh, passionate energy. Every page feels as if it must have been written, as if the author had no choice. He writes about exile, immigration, deportation, security checks, rage, patience, about the homelessness of living in a foreign land, about historical events so strange that, under his hand, the events become tales, and he writes tales so precisely that they read like history. Important work. Work of the future. This man will not be stopped.”—Deb Olin Unferth, author of Revolution “Unnikrishnan’s debut novel shines a light on a little known world with compassion and keen insight. The Temporary People are invisible people—but Unnikrishnan brings them to us with compassion, intelligence, and heart. This is why novels matter.” —Susan Hans O’Connor, Penguin Bookshop “From the strange Kafka-esque scenarios to the wholly original language, this book is amazing on so many different levels. Unlike anything I've ever read, Temporary People is a powerful work of short stories about foreign nationals who populate the new economy in the United Arab Emirates. With inventive language and darkly satirical plot lines, Unnikrishnan provides an important view of relentless nature of a global economy and its brutal consequences for human lives. Prepare to be wowed by the immensely talented new voice.” —Hilary Gustafson, Literati Bookstore “Absolutely preposterous! As a debut, author Unnikrishnan shares stories of laborers, brought to the United Arab Emirates to do menial and everyday jobs. These people have no rights, no fallback if they have problems or health issues in that land. The laborers in Temporary People are sewn back together when they fall, are abandoned in the desert if they become inconvenient, and are even grown from seeds. As a collection of short stories, this is fantastical, imaginative, funny, and even more so, scary, powerful, and ferocious.”—Becky Milner, Vintage Books Deepak Unnikrishnan was raised in the United Arab Emirates. He is a resident of Chicago and a lecturer at the Chicago Art Institute, and he has taught at New York University Abu Dhabi. Temporary People, his first book, was the inaugural winner of the Restless Books Prize for New Immigrant Writing.
Join us this Wednesday as we speak with author Deb Olin Unferth
In this episode, we drink and talk about The First Full Thought Of Her Life by Deb Olin Unferth as published in Tin House. See more at wordsworthing.com.
True stories can take the form of memoirs, personal essay, and first-person reportage. But where should the story begin, what is the right frame, how much context and background should the writer provide, and how does the personal fit within larger social and cultural narratives? At our May 19 Third Thursday, Michael Noll discussed these issues and more with panelists Antonio Ruiz-Camacho, Michael Hall, Donna Johnson, and Deb Olin Unferth.
In which we discuss "The Art of Space Travel" by Nina Allan & "The First Full Thought of Her Life" by Deb Olin Unferth. Also. Ray Bradbury, macguffins, and engineering diagrams.
At the 2013 Creative Capital Awardee Orientation, artists Richard Move, Mark Shepard and Deb Olin Unferth shared their experiences with artist residencies. Caitlin Strokosch, Executive Director of the Alliance of Artists Communities, spoke about different types of residencies and shared tips for getting accepted.
Deb Olin Unferth is the guest. She's the author of three books, the most recent of which is a memoir called Revolution: The Year I Fell in Love and Went to Join the War (Henry Holt). It was a finalist for the 2012 National Book Critics Circle Award. Dave Eggers says "This is a very funny, excoriatingly honest story of being young, semi-idealistic, stupid and in love. If you have ever been any of these things, you'll devour it." And Bookslut calls it “[O]ne of the best memoirs of the past several years. It's a difficult book to stop reading; Unferth is charming, charismatic, and breathtakingly smart… [Revolution is] more than enough to catapult Unferth into the ranks of America's great young writers.” Monologue topics: Memorial Day weekend, Venice Beach, Katy Perry, celebrity sightings, Alicia Silverstone, Stacey Dash, the gym, Paul Rudd. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices