Todd Keisling

There are two reasons why this article is late.  The first reason is quite simple.  The universe, in a show of its superiority, decided to possess my mouse so that every other click is actually a double click. This led to the inadvertent deletion of this very feature, 3/4 completed, sans interview questions. For whatever reason, WordPress chose not to save the draft. And here we are.

I’m afraid to admit the second reason, but I imagine we know one another well enough by this point, so I’ll tell you anyway.  The second reason why this feature’s late is because, well, Roxane Gay intimidates me.  There.  I said it.  And before anyone objects to that statement, allow me a single clarification:  I don’t mean that in a bad way.  I’ve approached other writers, other authors with letters and emails, seeking their guidance on matters of the written word, and I’ve done it with a matter-of-fact tone.  Roxane, however, was different.  It took encouragement from fellow writer Kirsty Logan to approach Roxane about the feature, and even then I was rather shy about it.  I put it off for a couple of days.  I thought about it.  Finally, after working up the courage, I wrote and re-wrote the email.  Then I sent it, and she said yes, and everything was okay.

Except then I had to write this feature, and that’s where I hit a wall.  Don’t get me wrong.  There is plenty to write about Roxane’s work.  The intimidating thing about it is, well, there’s a lot of it.  Roxane could have her own anthology.  And, as her blog title implies, for everything that’s on this list of publications past, present and future, there’s even more that hasn’t been published.  She submits regularly (something we should all do) and keeps at it.  Her work ethic is worthy of your admiration.  She works her ass off.  She’s the co-editor for PANK, she plows through the slush pile, she fends off angry hate mail from writers who don’t know how to deal with rejection.  She’s also a PhD candidate, a regular contributor to HTMLGIANT, she plays poker, and has these really creepy photos of a headless baby.  Seriously.

When I write these features, I generally try to pick a couple of stories to show off the writer’s talent.  As I noted above, Roxane has a lot of published work, and picking a couple of stories to showcase was not easy.  I wish I could spend a whole day reading through her list of published stories. I chose stories to show off here. I didn’t seek Roxane’s input or suggestions, so she may not like what I chose (and I’m sorry if that’s the case).

First up is her story Motherfuckers. Its title caught my eye for obvious reasons. Something else which caught my eye was its simplicity. Observe:

Gérard’s father does not shower every day because he has yet to become accustomed to indoor plumbing. Instead, he performs his ablutions each morning at the bathroom sink and reserves the luxury of a shower for weekends. Sometimes, Gérard sits on the edge of the bathtub and watches his father because it reminds him of home. He has the routine memorized—his father splashes his armpits with water, then lathers with soap, then rinses, then draws a damp washcloth across his chest, the back of his neck, behind his ears. His father excuses Gérard, and then washes between his thighs. He finishes his routine by washing his face and brushing his teeth. Then he goes to work. Back home, he was a journalist. In the States, he slices meat at a deli counter for eight hours a day and pretends not to speak English fluently.

Roxane has an uncanny ability to say a lot in the limited space she allows herself.  I hesitate to call her a minimalist, because her work isn’t (at least, not what I was taught to identify as minimalism). This story is 521 words long.  In those few words she provides us the point of view of a stranger in this weird land we call America, she gives us a sense of his family’s heritage, and manages to touch upon the cruel angst associated with being a teenager.  I enjoyed this story, its homage to Bruce Willis, and the nice kicker at the end.

Next is We Didn’t Mind The Fire And We Watched While It All Burned.  This is a longer story. It moves like a slow dance, stepping from one narrative track to the next, switching between partners of then and now:

When Gregory got into my car, I studied him carefully. He had a mess of long black hair, hard blue gray eyes, a nose bent slightly to the right, a weak chin and the fullest lips I had ever seen on a man. He put on his seat belt and said, you’re saving my life. Also, I’m a dentist. He switched the dome light on and peered closely at my face. You have good teeth and nice jaw structure. We married two years later.

The thing I love most about this story is the quirkiness between its characters. Roxane does an excellent job creating a chemistry here between the two protagonists.  Their relationship is real, and I believed in it from the first paragraph.  The story is built around the fire which consumes their home, a symbolic burning of the past, leaving two entwined souls to rebuild their future.  In the end I wanted it to work for them, and Roxane left it open enough for me to believe it could.  I haven’t read a story like this in a long time.  It kept me up one weeknight.  I sat down, intending to pick another story from her daunting list, just to skim a few lines and write it down for further reading later on.  By the third paragraph I knew I was going to be awake for a while longer.  Then I was glad I stayed up to read it.  Seriously, go read it, folks. It’s a lovely story.

So there are my thoughts on Roxane’s work.  Now let’s get a few words from the writer herself:

TK: Well, Roxane, here we are.  Would you tell our readers a bit about yourself?

RG: No.

I kid, I kid. First, thanks for saying such flattering, insightful things about me and my writing. You make me blush. Don’t stop. As for something about me, I never know what to answer to such questions. I’m a writer, obvi. I’m fascinated by Food Network competition programs and feel like I’m on the verge of becoming obsessed with the food truck challenge that recently started. I’m an assistant professor of English at Eastern Illinois University and will be teaching composition, professional writing and new media writing this fall.  I have a lot going on and nothing going on all at once. Diet Cherry Pepsi is a holy nectar.

TK: Task: Write about Creepy Headless Baby’s rise to fame.  You have 200 words.  Go.

RG: It all began with a baby arm my awesome friend has in her office.

TK: Have you always wanted to be a writer?  What pushed you in this direction?

RG: I have been writing as long as I can remember. I love telling stories.

TK: Would you tell us a bit about PANK and your adventures having to deal with upset writers?

RG: PANK is a literary magazine founded in 2006 by M. Bartley Seigel. I came on board in 2008. We publish all kinds of work but love experimental writing, gritty, realistic stuff, magical realism, epic poetry, dense prose, anything that makes us feel something in our gut.  We keep growing and trying to stay excellent as we grow. It’s a thrilling project for both my co-editor and I. I love what I get to do, so much.

Upset writers are an endless source of amusement and frustration. Sometimes I like to send feedback with rejections. That feedback is, of course, subjective and well-intended but it is not always received as such. It has been educational to see the range of responses writers have come up with to, as my co-editor has coined it, reject our rejection. My favorite rejection rejection remains the poet who wrote, “Perhaps my importance as a poet is exaggerated.” I recently learned the poet in question actually was rather well known which made his e-mail even funnier and more charming.

TK: I understand you have an agent. As you know, obtaining representation can be a laborious process.  Would you care to share your experience?

RG: I did recently get an agent. I’ve heard many frightening stories about getting an agent. In this regard, I was blessed by good luck and ignorance in that I had no idea what I was doing when I queried my agent. I don’t have a novel yet (though I do have one in progress) but I do have a short story collection called Strange Gods. I felt like this collection deserves to be published so I got it into my head to get an agent. I literally woke up one morning and thought, “I want an agent.” I had been following a new agent at Curtis Brown, Sarah LaPolla, for a few months. She has a wonderful blog and has given really interesting interviews. She was my first and only choice and the only agent I’ve ever queried. I wrote her a letter introducing my book, my novel idea, and myself. I included the phrase, “I am awesome.” I think I broke every query letter rule I’ve seen online. She wrote back about ten days later asking to see three short stories. I sent them to her. She asked to see two more. I sent them her way. She offered me representation. Every single thing that happened in my Get An Agent process flies in the face of the mythology getting an agent. The whole process took about two months. I know it can be difficult to get an agent but this experience has shown me it’s important to have a good project and to do your homework. I cannot stress that enough. The process is infinitely more traumatizing if you query agents without paying attention to what they want. That said, I was extraordinarily lucky to get representation for a short story collection and novel in progress. I know it and am grateful.

TK: I’ve said it before, and I’m saying it again: Your output is intimidating. When do you find the time, and how do you stay motivated?  What’s your process?

RG: I don’t sleep much. I make the time because I love writing. It’s that simple. Motivation is never an issue for me because writing is so enjoyable for me. My process is pretty non-existent. I will generally hear a phrase or catch a glimpse of something and it works into my brain. I do a lot of writing in my head and then the story pours out of me in one or two sittings. I have to wait for the inspiration to come. I cannot just sit at my computer for x number of hours a day and have anything useful come out of me. In that regard, my process really sucks.

TK: Do you have any novels in the works?

RG: I do. Thanks for asking. It’s called Things I Know About Fairy Tales. It started as a short story but I feel like there’s more there. It’s about a woman who is kidnapped in Port-au-Prince, Haiti and the novel focuses on both her ordeal and the aftermath. It’s a cheerful story.

TK: What’s your long-term goal as a writer?  Where do you want to be in five years?

RG: I want to be famous. Or at least, I want my parents to be able to find my book in Barnes & Noble because that’s their rubric for whether or not I am a real writer.

TK: What’s your advice for writers who are struggling with taking everything so personally?

RG: Writers and editors like to say rejection isn’t personal and in many ways, it isn’t. Rationally, I know that. But writing is personal and naked and raw so no matter how much we convince ourselves otherwise, rejection feels personal. Don’t deny that. Embrace the pain, take a minute, sulk and pout, and then move on. You have to walk it off. Rejection feels personal but so does acceptance. Hang on, hold tight. Good things are coming.

TK: Why should folks read your work?

RG: Sometimes I tell a pretty story and sometimes I tell an ugly story and sometimes I tell a sexy story and oftentimes my writing hurts but I would like to think once in a while, I tell a good story.

Bonus Question: Okay, seriously, what’s up with the headless baby?  It haunts my dreams.

RG: Headless baby is my special friend. Headless baby is made of hard fiberglass. Headless baby does not bend. Headless baby does not feel or eat or sleep. Headless baby is always sitting and staring straight ahead even though it does not have a head. Headless baby has cute little fingers that have been carefully sculpted by a craftsman. Headless baby is sitting on the couch opposite me reading a small book with his/her chest. Headless baby is like us—it wants to be loved.

If you would like to read more of Roxane’s work, check out her site.  And be sure to submit to PANK magazine (which you can also follow on Twitter).  Many, many thanks to Roxane for taking time out of her insane schedule to respond to these questions.

Until next time,

TK