“A few months before my 28th birthday, I finally kissed a man.” So begins Amanda Jane Smith’s essay The Measure of Creation appearing in Annalemma Issue Eight: Creation. It’s a beautifully honest essay about Amanda’s experiences coming to terms with her religion and her sexuality. I had a chance to talk more with Amanda about these themes.

Topics discussed:

– Richard Russo

– Mormonism

– Resentment

– The roll of women in the church

– The industrial revolution

Click here to listen.

{music: “Life Swap” by Hays Holiday.}

Check out illustrator and Issue Eight: Creation contributor, Jon MacNair. Jon provided some beautiful illustrations for the story “City” by Paul Kavanagh, wherein a couple moves away from the city to the country and brings all their city folk problems with them and, boy, does badness ensue.

MacNair’s got a fanciful style, imbuing his work with tons of heart and soul. And it looks like he’s having a great time doing it too. Also, check out his blog where he’s recently posted some images of Issue Eight along with big versions of his work appearing in the issue. Thanks Jon!

Check out the new website of Joe Gunn, photographer and Issue Eight: Creation contributor. Gunn is an incredibly talented photographer with an incredibly enviable last name. His portraits are sleek, graceful, and possess the ability to coax the personality and humanity out of a subject and into your brain. He in also recently started up a blog where he’s posted his work appearing in Issue Eight that accompanied the story “And It Was Good,” by Samantha Libby. Click around his site for a while and wallow in the beauty.

{Image by Yann Faucher, excerpted from the story “Project” appearing in Annalemma Issue Eight: Creation}

I first got introduced to Peg Alford Pursell’s writing from the Burrow Press anthology “Fragmentation and Other Stories.” Pursell’s story (which the collection borrowed the title from) exemplified what good flash fiction should be about: showing a single important moment in a character’s life, a flare or fracture, which sets a larger action in motion, an action the reader can take with them to continue the story on their own. When we started reading for Issue Eight: Creation, Pursell submitted a story about a married couple experiencing such a fracture. The story further illustrated Pursell’s skills at showing the moments in relationships that are symbols of larger issues. I had a chance to speak with Pursell over Gchat about these moments, the novel she’s currently working on and the reading series she curates in the SF Bay Area, Why There Are Words

Annalemma: So are you in Sausalito at a writing retreat I understand?

Peg Alford Pursell: No longer at the writing retreat, sadly. Just home, in Sausalito, yes, where I live.

A: Tell me about the retreat, I’ve never been to one before but they seem really interesting, what was it like?

PAP: Well, this one was like no other one you’ve been to because it was self-created. I’ve been to residencies before and I’m applying for a couple for next year now. But, I decided I couldn’t wait around for that — I had the time now, a rarity. So I started checking out all kinds of possibilities, from a fairly local Zen center/organic farm to vacation beach rentals, etc. It was last minute, so hard to find something that quickly. Finally, I lucked out with a house-sitting situation for a young creative couple who needed someone to water plants and their garden. A really great cottage not far from me, so I didn’t have to waste a lot of time getting there. No TV, lots of art surrounding me, a wonderful porch where I could take my laptop and work. It was great. So for days on end, I could just live, breathe, dream the manuscript, no interruptions, my schedule entirely. Location was perfect — I took a lot of long walks through the hills or down through town when I needed to get the ideas flowing or sort out details, that kind of thing. I miss it!

A: That’s fantastic, sounds like a dream. I was imagining something closer to Jonathan Ames’s “Wake Up, Sir!” where a bunch of artists are jammed into a community together and end up causing all sorts of problems for each other.

So are you working on a novel right now?

PAP: Yes, I’m working on a novel told in — interconnected — stories.

A: How far along are you

PAP: Fairly close to done. A good draft of the story is complete. I’m working on a concluding “coda” or story, which just came to me, finally. I knew there was something yet missing; working on polishing the ms. — what’s there —  at the retreat last week i got it. Naturally, this requires a reworking of the whole thing. But it’s good. It’s very exciting.

A: I know a lot of writers like to have everything in the can and all rewrites done before they start talking plot points and characters to outsiders. Can you say anything about what the book’s about?

PAP: Sure. It’s set on a fictional barrier island off the South Atlantic coast, loosely based on an island I lived on for a while, years ago. Mainly of the characters come from “off” — transplants from the north. Their lives intertwine and intersect in all sorts of complex ways. I’m most interested in exploring their relationships to themselves — surface and self — to their pasts, and to each other, and the idea of what it means to form a community.

A: That’s funny, I wanted to talk to you about the way you write relationships. In the story you wrote for the creation issue I liked the dynamic between the couple, even though it was a fractured one. I liked how the husband told his wife he wanted to have sex 2.5 times a week. A lot of times guys can be obsessed about whether or not we’re having sex “enough” and it can put a lot of undue stress on a relationship. It’s hard thing to create moments like this and make them feel genuine to a reader, how do you get to that point as a writer where you can show the relevant moments of a relationship?

PAP: Thanks for the kind words, Chris. I’m not sure I know. In many ways, it’s all relevant. But of course, you know that. Let’s see…

Sometimes, for me, it just “appears” or emerges that way. As in, with that particular story, that’s actually what I began with, what I heard first; the character, Martin, presented himself that way. That’s what was on his mind. In other cases, I may have to write a lot before I understand what are the relevant moments, and subsequently discard the rest.

A: I guess that’s what I was getting at. Writing, to me, feels like the ability to parse out what’s important and what’s not. That’s true that what’s “important” is all relative, but things need to be important to yourself before other people can regard them as important. You’re more likely to get excited or irritated about something if you think it’s important and that’s fuel to write. I guess for a lot of writers starting out though, it’s hard for them to figure out what’s important to them. Do you have any advice in that area?

PAP: I mean it’s what feels exciting or interesting to you — you can feel it, can’t you?

That’s what you go with. Sometimes a new writer may feel unsure about what resonates or interests her/him is going to matter to others. And then discards what excited or interested him/her. And in that case, I would say that’s a mistake. That it’s important to follow whatever that glimmer is. Trust that it will lead somewhere. It usually does, even if it fizzles out for some time (years, possibly). Later you see.

A: I’d agree with that, I’d say it’s important to follow some impulse, even if you end up abandoning it later on. It’s all a learning process, the greater mistake would be to hem and haw about what to do for months and years without actually producing anything

PAP: Yes, that’s a trap. There’s some kind of “rule” out there that says you throw away about 90% of what you produce. I remember Stephen Elliott saying this in a lecture/workshop we gave together last year. So you’ve got a make a whole lot to have anything, right?

A: Totally, I’m always interested to see how much writers have written before they’ve produced books. I love hearing stories about people who’ve got five novels and only one of them is published because that’s the only good one. I think that’s an untold reality a lot of people don’t understand.

There’s a lot of writers in the SF area, what’s the scene like? It’s pretty competitive here in New York.

PAP: Since I’ve never lived in NYC, I can only go on hearsay — what others say or have told me. First off, I’m new to SF myself (3 yrs) and I’ve never lived anywhere where’s there’s so much support and creative energy. Wish I’d moved here years ago. It’s been great for me. But I understand that isn’t simply my personal opinion, that others find it that way. I’ve lived in places where there’s little lit community, of isolation. That has its place, maybe, but it can be tough. It’s good to be where others care about words and creating, too.

A: I hear that. It’s a drag when you live in a city where it seems like you’re the only one who cares about books. That’s motivation enough to move sometimes, just to have good conversations. So how’d you get started writing?

PAP: Lifelong writer. In third grade I was prolific; my teacher, Miss Francis, read a story of mine to class at the end of each day while we were waiting for the bell to ring for dismissal. A few years ago I went to a class reunion and someone there reminded me of that.

A:  That’s cool, It’s rare to have that sort of thing written into your DNA, but very cool when it happens. What can you tell me about Why There Are Words?

PAP: It takes place once a month (2nd Thurs.) Six writers, some with books, some not. It’s dedicated to the idea that good writing needs to be heard at any and all times and isn’t tied to the latest book coming into print. It’s all prose, though poets who write any kind of prose, including prose poetry, have read and are welcome. Prose since there’s another poetry series held in the same gallery a different night. It’s a lot of fun. Readers come from all over, and it stays booked out pretty far in advance, which is both great and hard, because there’s always more demand for spots than I can accommodate.

A: That’s great people are coming out and supporting it, another advantage to living in a lit-minded city like SF. I think that’s a good point to end on. Before we sign off I wanted see if you’d weigh in on an issue… NY lit scene vs. SF lit scene: tacit rivalry, tacit alliance or some mixture of the two?

PAP: SF, as far as my involvement or what I can see of it, is alliance. But there’s probably tacit rivalry, too — I mean of course there has to be. Maybe ask me in a few more years.

Thanks for this, Chris. It’s been great chatting. I think you should come out and read out here, and gauge the scene yourself. October is LItquake!

A:  For sure, thank you, Peg. Let me know when those mags get there. Should be some time this week. I’d love to come out to SF, I haven’t been in years.

PAP: Do it!

A: You’re hyping me up now, I just might. That litquake sounds like fun.

PAP:  Well, let me know. I’ve running a WTAW in Litcrawl. Also WTAW goes to AWP this year in Chicago.

A:  Badass, I’ll be in Chicago for sure

PAP:  Well, let’s meet up there, if not before.

A:  Will do, thanks again, Peg!

PAP:  Thanks to you, too.

Hey New York, you know how you’re always going on about how books are great and writers are awesome? You’re about to cream your jeans over this news. The Brooklyn Book Festival is taking place this September 15th through the 18th and Annalemma’s gonna be there. Us and Avery Anthology are teaming up to lay waste to the book fair portion of the festival with our mighty and beautiful journals.

Why go to a stuffy old literary event? Cause all your favorite authors are going to be there. Why go see a bunch of stuffy old authors?  So you can go mess with them, get your book signed, ask them weird questions they don’t want to answer, ask them if they want to go grab coffee, mess up their hair, take pictures with them, become their best friend etc. etc. The possibilities are endless. What will I be doing? Probably stalking people, taking paparazzi style photos for the blog, breathing audibly right up close to their ear. Creep stuff, mainly.

Sounds like a good time, no? Mark it down on the calendar and come out to see us!

Issue Eight: Creation got a very thoughtful review by writer/designer Nancy Smith on The Rumpus today. I keep The Rumpus open in a browser tab pretty much all the time and periodically refresh it throughout the day, so, naturally, this pumps me up to a degree that I’m having a hard time expressing in words.

In the review, Smith focuses on the essays, including Blake Butler‘s piece on RPGs, Jen O’Malley‘s personal history of bridal gowns, and Gina Ishibasi’s essay on the importance of knowing how to work with your hands. Smith also includes some of her personal history and relationship to exercise of making things. I thought this part was especially beautiful:

My grandfather was a clockmaker, and for my fifteenth birthday I received a lovely grandfather clock, which remains one of my most beloved possessions. Why is this more important to me, than say, a clock I bought at Target? Because someone close to me made it, with me in mind. And because there are no others in the world like it. My grandfather made clocks for all five grandchildren, and each one is completely unique, and specific to each of us. He died several years ago, and though I received many presents from him over the years, this is the only thing that I will keep for the rest of my life.

Also, not only is Smith a great writer, but she’s an equally great designer/illustrator. Check out this rad Dear Sugar poster she made (which is available for sale for all you big time Sugar fans):

Thanks Rumpus. I love you and I don’t care who knows it.

{Japan}

Barry Grass’s essay “Phantasmagoria”, appearing in Annalemma Issue Eight: Creation, profiles brewer Dany Prignon of the Fantome brewery in Belgium. Prignon is an unconventional man with an unconventional style of brewing beer, adding impromptu and bizarre ingredients to his recipes like red moss growing on wooden crates stacked up in his barn. The essay focuses on the importance of following the biorhythms of nature and working with the materials you have close at hand to make your creation a unique reflection of who you are and where you come from. It’s a great read, you should check it out.

In the essay, Barry name-checks The Omnivore’s Dillemma by Michael Pollan as an inspiration for the resurgence of the pastoral idyll that’s been gaining momentum in the collective consciousness of Americans in the past few years. I picked up the book, it opened my eyes to the dysfunction of the industrialized food supply chain and how those dysfunctions have a negative ripple effect for the environment, the economy and the health and well-being of people who subsist on those foods.

Then I came upon this photo project of portraits of families posing with a weekly representation of what they eat, excerpted by from the book Hungry Planet: What the World Eats. The most interesting thing I noticed was how much people in the West eat stuff out of a box and the further South and the further East you go, the more people use fresh, local ingredients to prepare meals.

{Italy}

{Chad}

{USA, North Carolina}

{China}

{Egypt}

{Ecuador}

{USA, California}

{Mongolia}

{Bhutan}

Hat tip to Michelle Rider.

You may have noticed it’s been more than a hot minute since some stories or essay have been posted on the site. Like I said earlier in the week, I got a new job and it’s gobbling up my time. I could use a hand. Want to help out? Want a free subscription as payment? Help me tackle some of these submissions that have been piling up in the last months.

Email me here: chris {at} annalemma {dot} net. Tell me a little about yourself, what you like to read, if you’ve read submissions before, what was that experience like for you, what sort of time you have to devote to this and how many submissions you’re willing to read in a given week. If it sounds like a good fit then I’ll get your mailing address from you and sign you up for a free subscription starting with Annalemma Issue Eight: Creation. Thanks!

{image by Anastasia Mouyis, excerpted from the essay “I Tried Really Hard to Play” appearing in Annalemma Issue Eight: Creation}

Chances are you know who Blake Butler is. He’s published fiction in nearly every lit magazine online and in print, he’s editor at HTMLGiant, and in April he released a new novel, There is No Year, on Harper Perennial. This interview doesn’t have much to do with those things.

Blake’s mainly known for his fiction but I’d been enjoying the nonfiction essays he posted on HTMLG, a lot of them having to do with art and life. I saw them as much more tempered, quiet and reflective than the intricate and mind-bending language he used in his fiction writing. The essays were like messages written in the dark, to be found by people also in the dark. So I asked Blake to write some nonfiction for Issue Eight: Creation and he came back with a piece about making up a role playing game while on a beach vacation with his family as a child.

We talked on Gmail chat about a lot of the ideas he brings up in his essay: role playing games (RPGs), meticulous obsession, solitude, art, writing, publishing, the purpose of playing games and, of course, creation.

Blake Butler: Hey Chris, I’m here whenever.

Annalemma: Hey man, you cool to do this now?

BB:  Totally.

A: Righteous. I’m totally unprepared, but I think that’s okay, let’s just start with RPGs. I don’t really know anything about RPGs, how would you describe them?

BB: I think my experience with RPGs is totally different than people who would actually talk about them, since I never had anyone to play with. I just kind of was tagging along in my brain with the idea but ostensibly they are games based on rules and numbers and you fill in the blanks but with nerd shit only.

A: Haha. So would Magic: The Gathering or Dungeons and Dragons be the main examples of what an RPG is?

BB: I guess the more traditional idea of an RPG is the D&D style, before computers could do interesting things with the format. Magic is more of an actual game game, cuz you are much more governed by the pre-established rules. Like in Magic, the innovation comes from finessing what is already set up as defined, because there are only so many cards and you can’t make up your own (unless you rule and play with people who make up their own, though that probably almost never happens). Whereas D&D kind of gives you a structure, how to define the world yourself, and lets you explore that world based on how you set it up, if still with certain concrete format ideas. I never really played real ‘d&d’ I just read the manuals and wished I could and pretended like I was playing with people and then I played like PC games like Might and Magic II and stuff that were more like video games, Final Fantasy style.

A: I’m familiar with Final Fantasy, I had a buddy who became obsessed with it. I could never get behind it though. It took too long to tell your character what to do and then have him execute a move. I guess I never understood the appeal.

BB: Yeah, I wasn’t really into those kind of games either. The path you had to execute to complete the game was too linear. I liked PC games where there were things you had to do to move forward, like goals that gave you certain rewards, but really you could just spend all day wandering around killing shit and exploring and never get anywhere real and still have fun and the game could go on forever until you died.

A: I think I saw something on facebook where you were talking about playing Magic online. I also know nothing about the Magic games except that I see people in the coffee shop playing it all the time. Is that a game you play alone? Or can you go online and play with other folks?

BB: In the flesh you can really only play with at least one other person, though I think I remember when I was a kid someone invented a solitaire version, though that seemed a stretch. And you could be so lame as to have two decks and play yourself, which would be about as effective as playing yourself in chess. Though I can’t say I didn’t do that a few times. And yeah you can play online. It’s super addictive there since you don’t have to find other freaks willing to play a child’s game as an adult

A: Haha.

BB: I quit playing online though because I was spending money to buy the same cards I had in real life and that seemed really idiotic. So now just hang with these three dudes and we drink beer and make fun of each other and play it, so it’s not so serious. Though we did make a trip to a local comic store a few months ago and that was fucking weird… I beat the owner of the store in my first match and he was literally talking to me in third person and also as if I wasn’t actually there while his weirdly hot asian wife stood watching him rubbing his shoulders until she realized he was losing and then she went in the back of the store to go to sleep.

A: Oh my god, you went to the nerd kingdom and slayed the nerd king. Well done, dude.

BB: Haha, yeah, makin’ nerds sweat.

A: I think I read an interview with you where you talked about all the lit mags you submitted to when you first started out and you equated it to a sort of game. What is it with writers and games? I think it has something to do with our brains being wired for obsessive and compulsive behavior, what do you think?

BB: Yeah it’s definitely compulsive to me. Makes it more of a palpable goal-oriented thing, which can be good for someone who is competitive in general because the whole writing thing is so abstract and aimless when it comes to the supposed ‘business’ side need(ing) a target or something. Like, I want to slay Black Warrior Review with my two handed broadsword.

A: Haha.

BB: So I will fashion a broadsword, then I get this little jewel to stick in my Inventory screen when I do slay it. ‘Sweet jewel, bro.’

A: Haha. I’ve been thinking a lot about this idea lately, and I think it’s the root of a lot of frustrations for writers and artists, in general: Creating art is such a subjective thing that there’s no one’s ever going to be able to say “This is a definitively good story.” Or “This is how you write a good story” cause different people like different things. It’s not like business or sports or video games where you meet certain requirements and with a little bit of luck you are successful. It’s just this shapeless blob that you keep trying to throw things at hoping they stick. What do you think about that?

BB: Right, I think ultimately continuing to throw things at things is the key, and if pretending you are fighting wizards while doing so helps you do that, that’s cool. I think if you start to take that whole side of the process too seriously it will eat you alive and make you question yourself to death, and really it’s all just tiny items in the first place. The point is to keep moving and having fun and making shit that you feel is getting somewhere as a creation, and some things fail and some work and that’s all good process.

Hopefully you get to a point where you make something that you feel proud of and that you remember in a way that feels warmish if even ultimately whatever. Like the way I think about my time spent playing Might and Magic 2.

Because I think no matter what sticks on the outside, wherever you publish it, it’s all going to feel like shit if you haven’t spent that kind of time inside it where it feels like a place you were, rather than this weird object. But then sometimes it’s fun to just have some weird little objects you fuck with too. It comes together weirdly.

A: I think I know what you mean, like it would truly be wasted time if you beat a piece of writing out (that) you didn’t give a shit about or it wasn’t a part of you, but it fit perfect with this mag or that mag. More quality time would have been (spent) with something that’s more of a reflection of who you are as a person.

BB: Right, or that messes you up or makes you feel excited in some way at least. As a publisher it’s probably pretty easy to tell when someone is just dialing it in I think, yeah?

A: Oh hell yes. And 90% of the people are dialing it in. Or they just don’t know how to get in touch with that core of themselves yet. They’re still working through shit.

BB: Right, they might not even realize they are dialing it in.

A: Which is not a big deal, you have to start somewhere. But I really wish people would have some sort of idea of what’s publishable and what’s not. Exercise a little filtering, you know?

BB: Right, the rush to publish is definitely not the best. I mean, I understand it, I was hungry the instant I started writing too. But the more you throw away, the better you get, and the better it is when you start to put shit out there.

A: Right, I mean, I can’t really relate to that impulse to submit to 1000 different places, maybe because I’ve been editing longer than I’ve been submitting so I know the other side of it. But I’m very aware that most of the stuff I write should never be read by anyone but me.

BB: I definitely had the itch early on, because anything I do I tend to do compulsively. But I was lucky in that I pretty much came out of the gate trying to write novels, and you can’t really half-assedly publish a novel, or it’s much harder to anyway. So my first 4 or 5 things I wrote were novels that all got ultimately canned, and I learned from them without anyone really seeing what I was doing besides the agent I lucked into early on, poor guy.

A: Haha, I think that’s the beauty of writing as opposed to, like, stand-up comedy, no one has to see you bomb if you don’t want them to. But, I really like the idea of finding a (publication) you like and making something specifically for them. I try to do that and I like when people do it for me.

BB: Totally. You have to know who you are sending to, especially when it comes to short things. And the more in tune to that you are, the better it works for both sides

A: Right, to me that’s much more productive. So I once played video games for 36 hours straight, what’s your longest go?

BB: Ha damn, what were you playing? I really have no idea what my longest would be. Probably not very long, though I would sometimes play whole seasons of Baseball Simulator 3000 for Nintendo, which would take a long time. I doubt anywhere near 36 hours though. I tend to get bored with most games and want to turn it off.

A: I’m the kind of gamer where I buy one game a year and I don’t stop playing until I beat everything. I think it was something stupid like Crash Bandicoot or Ratchet and Clank for PS2.

BB: Do you drink mountain dew or something or would you lose track of time?

A: It’s just like, “I have to do this thing and I’m not going to be okay until I do this thing.” Same thing with all addiction. I’ve really had to temper down the game playing in the last few years, I keep it cool with some Wii sports when friends come over. Do you think playing games is a waste of time?

BB: I mean, fucking off is good. And I think you learn some kind of weird skill set or understanding maybe from games that let you dig into worlds. I feel like my understanding of how things work is furthered by having pushed Mario down tunnels into other rooms and eaten coins and shit. It’s good to interact with fantasies that have maps and secrets. The sports crap is probably just a waste maybe, but stats have secrets too, and so do memorizing weird button arrangements. So it’s probably got some push to it, though I have a hard time playing as an adult since I mostly feel I’ve gone through all that and now I’m just like squirting. But squirting’s i-ight.

A: Haha, I hear you. It’s like if you come out the other side and you get something out of it then it’s never wasted time. I think that’s a good place to call it, unless you got anything else on your mind.

BB: I think we did good.

A: Yeah man, this was fun. I’ll let you know when it goes up.

BB: Definitely. thanks man, was good to chat.

A: For sure, I’ll be in touch. Did you get that mag yet btw?

BB: I dont think so? No.

A: Okay, I put it in the mail last week should be there soon. Lemme know if it doesn’t show.

BB: Yeah my mailperson sucks. I’m sure it will. Excited to check it.

A: Yeah, I think it turned out good. Aight man, I’ll be in touch.

Click here to check out Blake’s essay in Issue Eight: Creation.

Dear readers,

Apologies to those of you who have subscribed or pre-ordered Issue Eight: Creation. I was delayed in paying the bill to the printer, which pushed the shipping back a couple weeks. We should be getting the shipment late this week or early next week, at which point your order will be shipped faster than a rabbit riding a light particle.

To say sorry we’ll throw in some post cards and a few extra goodies to your shipment. Also, we’re keeping the pre-order cost to $5 off the cover price until this item ships.

Thanks for your continued support of Annalemma Magazine.

Sincerely,

Chris Heavener, editor/publisher