This happened over the weekend. A lot of people got pissed off. Some of them had good reasons, some of them didn’t. Seeing as it’s pretty much over, I don’t have anything to add to the conversation other than to say, all that time spent talking and thinking about something like this could have been spent so much more productively, like making something like this:

People like to talk about this stuff because controversy and outrage are a fun distraction from doing work. But it’s easy to forget that it’s just that, a distraction. These are the sorts of topics on the internet that get more hits than any fiction or poem that’s published on the web and further perpetuates the devaluing of art and writing in the world we live in. Bothering yourself with “controversy” like this is taking the place of writing and creating something that will provide a service to people long after you’re gone. There’s so many other things in this world worthy of your ire and scrutiny. In five or ten years, no one is going to remember these flare ups of our small corner of the world. You probably barely will as well. What will matter is what you created. What matters is what dig for and what you make out of it and how it effects people.

It’s easier to talk about creating than it is to create. You think that guy in the video spent hours and days ruminating over the state of the dance world? He probably just danced his ass off.

Let’s stop talking and start doing.

{hat tip to booooooom for the video for “Pop Culture” by Madeon}

“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.

When I first got into indie publishing a few years back, novelist Jim Munroe was the man who’d seen and done it all. After jumping ship from a Harper Collins publishing deal, Munroe began NoMediaKings.org, a vast resource of knowledge on DIY publishing for the subversive and creative mind. Everything in Silico, Munroe’s sci-fi, cyberpunk novel about lost people using technology before it uses them, was as endlessly entertaining as it was thought-provoking and left you more than a little bit scared at what technology might have in store for us just around the corner.

Ghosts with Shit Jobs, a new sci-fi mockumentary written and produced by Munroe, asks what happens when the global tables are turned on a socio-economic level: 30 years from now America is a bankrupt third-world country that survives off jobs outsourced from the East. The Cantonese slang for indigenous Americans doing the work Chinese are unwilling to do is, “ghosts.” Check it out:

This movie looks fantastic and timely as hell. Well done, Jim.

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.

Bluesquare Press has been offering some new jams in the past few weeks, most recently is this book with a filthy title and an even filthier cover. I don’t know much about Sean Kilpatrick, but I do know a bit about the dudes behind Bluesquare and they have very good (albeit odd and, at times, unsettling) taste, so I trust it will be good. I just pre-ordered this book and, according to the site, I’ll be getting something called Stab Pyramid, a chapbook co-written by Kilpatrick and Issue Eight contributor Blake Butler.

I also ordered the new novel from Issue Six contributor Jack Boettcher called Theater State. Jack is an incredible writer, tons of voice behind that young mind of his. I’m very excited to read it. You should be too. Go buy some stuff from them. I have it on good authority Bluesquare is going to be the best new weird/boutique publisher in the next couple years.

Matt Bell came in town last weekend and we worked on a secret project together.

It’s only a secret because we can’t tell you about it until next year.

That’s when this project will be finished and it will coincide with a very cool event. You can probably figure out what the secret is by these photos. Sorry for being secretive. Anticipation is always the best part though, right?