Why Lie?

Raising children is a very long series of hard decisions, beginning even before a baby is born. What shall we name the baby? Hospital or home birth? Doctor or midwife? Pain meds? Breast feed or formula? And that doesn’t even get us past day one.

One of those hard decisions is how to communicate with children about hard topics. When a child asks Where do babies come from? or Why don’t I see Grandpa anymore? it’s easy to put them off with a palatable lie, rather than a complicated truth.

We lie to children about sex, money, drug and alcohol use, and all the other taboos of our society—it’s how we perpetuate those taboos. We also tell children things that we wish were true: You’re the smartest kid ever. Everyone at school will love you. You’re going to be just fine.

As adults, we don’t realize that the subjects we avoid—the ones that are painful or embarrassing or that we ourselves don’t understand—leave an empty space in the minds of children that lead them to ask questions to fill that space. The more we avoid certain topics, the more children feel a need to find out about them. The result is questions we adults don’t want to answer, or answers that engender hurt feelings when they’re found out for the lies they are.

But parents aren’t the only ones who lie to kids. When I was a kid, we told each other all kinds of stories. It’s a rite of passage, making up outrageous stories to see whether the kids on the playground will believe you. Pig Latin is an actual language. Our kindergarten teacher was put in a mental institution in the middle of the school year. We used to live in a haunted house. Sometimes, even the truth sounded like lies. My father had a cooking show on tv. The kid who lived in our house before us was eaten by an alligator. We had 14 dogs.

We all know the feelings of hurt and betrayal we feel when we discover someone has lied to us, so why are we so quick to do it to others? According to a study by Bella DePaulo, Ph.D., people lie in about 20% of their social interactions lasting 10 minutes or more. We lie to almost a third of the people we deal with over the course of a week. Women more often lie to save others’ feelings, while men more often lie to make themselves look good. Considering how much time parents spend with their children, is it any wonder they’re on the receiving end of so much untruth?

Lying to children is easy for so many reasons. Children’s memories are malleable: when they’re young and have no context for much of what they see, they conflate things in their minds, or misunderstand things. Lie to a child, and when the truth comes out, it’s easy to point the blame at the child’s faulty memory or lack of understanding.

But the most harmful of all are the lies we tell ourselves as children: My real parents are rich and never yell and have plenty of time to pay me attention. When I grow up, I’m going to be famous. Once I’m an adult, I’ll be able to do whatever I want.

Most people grow up to be fairly honest, basically good, and as decent as they can be. They mostly mean well and want to be liked. It makes me believe that hearing those childhood lies, learning to discern lies from truth, and learning that people can both love you and also lie to you are some of the most important lessons we take from childhood.

Many artists and authors are creative in multiple disciplines. What other types of art do you create?
In my life I have been an architecture student (which I was terrible at) and a glass artist (where I made a living in the ‘90s). Now I stick to pounding on a laptop

How old were you when you produced your first work? How was it received?
I’m a late bloomer. After writing a good deal of non-fiction, around 2000 I said to myself, “Self, you should write fiction. People will want to read your fiction.” Wow, was I wrong.

What is the single best sentence you've ever read?
I don’t know if this is cheating, but I have to go with, “Joy doesn't cancel grief as much as it complicates it.” Bam! That sums up this book in ten words. The book is Without You Here by Jody Hobbs Hesler, and it’s coming out fall of 2024 from Flexible Press. The book has so many “blow me away” lines I made a list just for myself.

What is your biggest creative doubt?
I’m a writer, so I am soaked in imposter syndrome. More precisely, I swing between “I’m a genius” and “I’m an idiot” minute by minute. While I know—intellectually if not emotionally—that most likely both are true, this awareness doesn’t help one bit.

What historical time would you most like to live in?
As an out bisexual man, I think I’ll stay in this time, thank you. However, if I could get a day pass, I would like to go back to 1955 to Las Vegas, so I can go to the Sahara and rock out to Louis Prima with Keely Smith and Sam Butera.

What is the most unbelievable thing that has ever happened to you?
I got bumped by Lady Gaga.

Long story: In 2009 I was contacted by Binet USA to see If I would be available to speak at the National Equality March in Washington D.C. I said, “speak on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial to a few hundred thousand of my fellow travelers? Hell, yeah!” A few weeks before the event, I was lying in bed, laptop open, TV on Saturday Night Live. Some performance artist-type wearing weird hoops was at the piano singing. I got an email saying, sorry, but you are off the program. “You were bumped by Lady Gaga.” I’m like, OK, but who the heck is Lady Gaga? And I looked at the TV, and there she was.

Two things: 1. I think they made the right call. 2. Now I LOVE Lady Gaga! She’s the greatest!

Whose work do you feel most resembles your own?
Funny you ask. Lady Gaga.

No, I kid.

I recently read Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus. I have my first novel coming out fall 2024, Ahnwee Days, and I was amazed how similar the voices are: strong authorial voice, snarky at times, bordering on 4th wall stuff. I found it affirming.

That’s just my book, though. I don’t always use that voice. Sometimes I sound like Herman Melville.

What does your creative process look like?
A popular point of discussion for writers is process, and for many authors, they are sure there is only one correct process—theirs. That said, it is clear the only correct process is to binge and repeat: don’t write for two months, and then write like a maniac until your fingers bleed.

Many artists and authors are creative in multiple disciplines. What other types of art do you create?
I also experiment with visual art, which is all process for me. I am excited by seeing visual work in museums and galleries which inform my experiments.

How old were you when you produced your first work? How was it received?
In first grade, I wrote a poem called "Twins" presumably because my younger sisters are twins. The problem was I couldn't spell twins, so I was told to stay at the blackboard until I figured it out. Fortunately one of my friends whispered the spelling to me. Otherwise, I can't remember much about its reception.

Around that time I wrote a poem for Arbor Day (an old-fashioned holiday). As far as I know there were no major spelling glitches, and I got to read it as a school assembly.

What is the single best sentence you've ever read?
This is from Muriel Rukeyser's "Islands" -- I don't know if it is the best sentence ever, but it stays with me: "O for God’s sake/they are connected/underneath"

What I like about it is the simplicity, and the old fashioned use of "O for God's sake."

What is your biggest creative doubt?
On a bad day I worry about climate and fires. How does this relate to my creative worries? I worry that what I write doesn't have an impact on the big problems of our time. I also have plenty of personal worries in this precarious time.

What historical time would you most like to live in?
It is odd with this question — context is all — gender and money are crucial. For example, if I was rich, the US and expat Europe in the 20s was a pretty open time, and there were a lot of brilliant writers like Virginia Woolf, Langston Hughes, Gertrude Stein, and Willa Cather with their books and salons. On the other hand, if I was working class, the late 70s might be a better time — salaries were higher in relation to rents. Both eras were relatively open in terms of feminism and gay rights. Also, living in a world with more nonhuman animals, would have been an unalloyed good.

What is the most unbelievable thing that has ever happened to you?
I was marshaling at a demonstration in DC at the capitol building, with my little brother who was eight or nine at the time. I can't remember which war but the chants were probably about jobs and justice. We were having a good time because we were near the stage and could hear the music and the speeches. Suddenly, a group charged towards us swinging their "Spartacus Youth League" flag. A cop yelled at me — get that kid out of here. My brother and I started running and were fine, though I sometimes wonder if it is why my political activism didn't influence him.

What does your creative process look like?
My creative process looks pretty messy. I write most days, sometimes alone, and sometimes part of a generative writing group that has been meeting since Covid. We read poems out loud together, and then create prompts from the reading. Most of my work begins with a fragment of language or a formal consideration, though my own preoccupations always slip in. Before the pandemic, I would often trade haiku or poems with a friend -- just to keep things going, and so that I would have starting places to collage together into poems and flash fictions.

Many artists and authors are creative in multiple disciplines. What other types of art do you create?
I am also an actor-combatant, playwright, and singer-songwriter. I don't have any music released yet, but hope to share someday. In acting, I'm a live stage actor focused mainly on Shakespeare. I picked up stage combat as a part of my Shakespeare journey. Swords are so fun. Now that I'm an actor-combatant with Dueling Arts International, I'm applying for teacher training so that I can teach other people how to swing swords (safely) at each other!

How old were you when you produced your first work? How was it received?
I was homeschooled for much of upper elementary and middle school, so my (extremely patient) mother was my first writing teacher. As a kid, I hated writing class because my mom wouldn't let me slack off. I'd turn in some slapped-together words, and she'd ask, "Is this your best work?" And I'd re-write. And re-write. And re-write until I could say truthfully that it was my best work. (Thank you, Mom, for sticking to your guns no matter how much I fought.) Not only did she teach me to only put out my best work, but she also taught me that the writing process involves multiple drafts to achieve said best work. And the bar often rises as you revise, until you surprise yourself with the quality of your final draft. So thank you, Mom.

What is the single best sentence you've ever read?
"Let me be that I am and seek not to alter me." —Don John, Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing. I found Much Ado shortly before coming out as non-binary, aromantic and asexual. This line isn't Shakespeare's flashiest, or his funniest (though "What, you egg!" (Macbeth) is definitely another favorite of mine), but it rang to my core when I heard it. I have a sticker with it on my computer to remind me every day that I am enough as I am.

What is your most evocative memory?
My parents took me to see The Lion King live when I was about eight years old. I remember sitting in the aisle seat in awe as the animals processed in during "Circle of Life." I was fascinated with Rafiki's ability to directly talk to the audience (a fascination that served me well in my Shakespeare journey). Mufasa's fall was magical. I never realized that you could get close to slow-motion on a live stage, especially when fighting gravity. That show definitely planted the theatre seed, even if it took a while for me to notice.

What is your biggest creative doubt?
I won't be able to share my work with the people who need to hear/see it.

What historical time would you most like to live in?
Ooh...my theatre heart would love to see Shakespeare in real life, but I love living now when so many things are shifting positively for queer people. We've got a long way to go, but I'm glad to be a part of the journey.

What is the most unbelievable thing that has ever happened to you?
I slapped a bishop when I was ten months old. Then got kicked out of school in 2nd grade for...I guess, reading too much? But I think the most special thing is that I've been blessed to consistently work in the theatre industry from high school, through undergrad, and to the present day. I'm so thankful that I've had the amazing opportunities I've had thus far.

What does your creative process look like?
Oh boy, here goes! My writing life is a bit mercenary, just whenever I can grab time around my day job of teaching and performing classic plays for a different school every week. I bounce between different projects to keep myself engaged—some in the brainstorming/outlining stages, some in the drafting process, one or two in the revision stages. I'm part of a wonderful playwriting group where we give each other feedback, which is super helpful. I try to write at least one poem a week...sometimes it's daily, sometimes I do well to get one written each month. My theatre work inevitably inspires new ideas (usually when I'm trying to sleep). But I keep track of every day I write. It's rewarding to look back at my "daily poems" document and see titles by so many days in the year. I keep in touch with writing friends from my undergrad at Purdue, and we support each other in poetry, fiction, etc. The community aspect is my favorite, and probably where I create my strongest work. Thank you to everyone who's helped me write.

What historical time would you most like to live in?
I think the 1960s (both in Lebanon and America) was the best time to be alive for someone of my background. It was a time when there was optimism, optimism that the systemic changes we needed were possible; there was even the political will of elements within the establishment to see them through. Toxic traditions were being questioned; our leaders were being taken to task; real change was being felt that would improve our lives and liberate us from our pasts. Salaries were still good, food was still real, and art, media, publishing, and entertainment were having something of a creative renaissance that would peak later in the next decade. Obviously, it wasn't perfect; there were problems, massive corruption, minorities were denied rights, and the environment I'm drawn to was built off decades of systemic oppression and exploitation. In certain aspects, it was much worse than it was now. However, I think the spirit of the age is what we could use a little bit of now.

What's the last book you couldn't put down?
The Secret History by Donna Tartt - This is a novel I read a while back that just hasn't left my mind. In extended isolation, I spent 2023 trying to understand the origins of certain behaviors I was indoctrinated into; I realized it's because I experienced something uncannily similar to what the protagonist of The Secret History goes through. Now that university is behind me, the epilogue, in particular, resonates more than it did when I first read it. Some think it's melodramatic, especially since the characters still have their whole lives ahead of them. But, when you've gone through tragedy during your young adult years, it's not hard to see how you can enter this defeatist mindset, nor is it unbelievable because, in most cases, people never recover, and they know it.

What is the most unbelievable thing that has ever happened to you?
Back in the 90s (or early 2000s), I was taken hostage by a gorilla in southern Lebanon at a wedding. It wasn't a wedding we were invited to. It just happened to be taking place at a restaurant called Al Bohsasa by the Hasbani River. My mom, dad, aunt, her husband, and their two daughters were there. I think it was the summer south Lebanon was liberated, and we'd gone there for lunch. For some reason, establishments in Lebanon in the late '90s and early 2000s had this thing where they would just have a chained primate around. It slowly faded away. I remember later when I was attending the Lebanese American University's business school, you could see from one of its windows that the fire department nearby had a chained chimpanzee there. Anyhoo, there was a gorilla at this restaurant that was only chained by the neck to a tree with no cage. It was a female one. They were using her as a tourist attraction where you would throw her pieces of food. I was still a kid (in early elementary at the time), so I wanted to try. I asked my mom for candy to throw at it, got the candy, threw it, and then wanted to try again. I couldn't find my mom, so I went to my aunt, who handed me one of those small carton boxes of coffee-flavored sweets. I couldn't get the plastic-wrap open, so I just went over to the gorilla and told her: "Here, Mr. Gorilla have some candy," while I was tapping her chest with it. The gorilla looked down at me, put both hands on each one of my shoulders, and then guided me to her side. I tried to leave, but the gorilla held my hand. I think people at the wedding thought it was an act until I started crying, and then all Hell broke loose. How I got out of that situation is a whole other story, but tragically, the gorilla wasn't there the second time we went.

Whose work do you feel most resembles your own?
Each work is a chance for me to try my hand at a new style or genre. So I don't think there's a consistent throughline throughout all of it that would resemble anyone in particular. The ethos I've followed for the early part of my writing career would be Robert E. Howard, but I'm in a transitional period where I'd like to shift to longer-form writing.

What is the single best sentence you've ever read?
One that's been on my mind recently was mentioned to me in a phone call by my friend K.A. a couple of days ago:

"there is great disorder under the heavens; the situation is excellent."

What is your biggest creative doubt?
That my health will prevent me from ever realizing my full potential as a writer.

What other types of art do you create?
I'm notorious for being artistically flighty. Writing and painting are my main creative outlets, but I've dabbled in too many other things. I have a collection of instruments that I don't know how to play, including a Moog synthesizer and a kalimba. I also bought a high tech sewing machine for when I eventually launch my luxury sustainable handbag collection. Recently, I started teaching myself how to use DJ equipment, so I can combine my love of disco and rock operas. My current fixation is spraypainting secondhand furniture.

How old were you when you produced your first work? How was it received?
I started writing and illustrating stories when I was around six years old. My characters were either anthropomorphized versions of my pet cats or demonized versions of my older sister's boyfriends. Humor was always encouraged in my family, so I usually had an eager audience with my more playful, irreverent work. I am the baby of the family, so I got away with a lot. Ultimately, I think this has helped me take risks in my writing. Forgiveness over permission.

What is the single best sentence you've ever read?
"The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are." Carl Jung

What is your most evocative memory?
When I was three years old, I had a play date at my house. Our guests brought us a carton of ice cream and when we opened it, everything had melted. Alfred Adler would probably say this represents my core belief that life is a big disappointment. I've lived most of my life feeling this way, until I realized that melted ice cream still tastes the same.

What is your biggest creative doubt?
Sometimes I fear that my best writing is behind me. My humor was much bolder, and my characters were more idiosyncratic when I wrote in my 20s. I was also an idealistic and a bit of a romantic. I gave up creative writing for nearly a decade and in that time, I worked in the corporate world, went back to school to became a therapist, and got married. When I finally started writing again, I'd gone from whimsical Chick Lit to Dirty Realism. I think that's why I've been writing for children lately. It gives me an opportunity to be silly and rowdy and inappropriate.

What historical time would you most like to live in?
I've always envied the Transcendentalists of the mid 1800s. Living in the woods and being self reliant sounds very appealing to me. Or really any period in which staring at a porch door counted as screen time.

What's the last book you didn't finish reading, and why did you put it down?
I have a two year old, so I don't finish anything these days. But the last book I consciously set aside was Lessons in Chemistry. Recently, I've learned something very important but embarrassing about myself. Here goes: I don't love novels. I'm a much bigger fan of memoirs and nonfiction, as well as poetry and short stories. I find novels a chore to read and to write. It took me 400 pages of a draft to realize that long format fiction is not for me, and that doesn't make me any less of a writer.

What is the most unbelievable thing that has ever happened to you?
A client of mine had a psychotic break during our session and clobbered me on the head. Luckily just with their hands and not with the three hole punch on my desk.

Whose work do you feel most resembles your own?
I won't compare myself to Tina Fey, but if my humor writing could resemble someone's, I'd choose hers. Her writing is everything I strive for. Smart, a little awkward, socially aware, and ridiculous.

What does your creative process look like?
I create space in my life for my mind to rest, and then the ideas find me. A walk to the grocery store or a drive around town are typically helpful. 3am insomnia is also a fertile time for me. I never sit down to write until I already have a line or two in my head. Usually I start with the last line of the poem and then write the opening rhyme, or vice versa. The middle writes itself once I have solid "bookends." I treat it like writing a joke. The build-up and the punchline have to work in harmony.

Many artists and authors are creative in multiple disciplines. What other types of art do you create?
Over the years, I've explored every artistic discipline from drawing/painting to videography to site-specific installation work to graphic design to bookmaking to fashion, but my first and greatest love will always be dance. Unfortunately, as I got older, I stopped making time for my favorite activity. Then I got sick. Four months ago, I couldn't even walk without pain. I thought I might never move with reckless abandon again, but now that I'm slowly recovering, I've started dancing every day again. In my opinion, it's the most instinctive of art forms. Rarely do I find myself overthinking when I improv or freestyle. Instead, I simply let the music guide my body. Because I'll never be a professional, each dance is something ephemeral, something that can stay mine forever. To be honest, I often feel conflicted about sharing and publishing my work. In some cases, I'd very much prefer that no one ever read it, but artists have to make money somehow.

How old were you when you produced your first work? How was it received?
I used to collaborate on stories with my sister when I was very young, but I think I produced my first solo work when I was seven years old. I was a huge fan of the Goosebumps series by R.L. Stine, so when I started writing fiction, those horror stories took on a similar style. I wrote them in a small spiral memo book with a very '90s cover. I still have the originals, but I never really showed those to anyone. Maybe someday!

Actually, I just remembered that a year before that, in first grade, we were asked to write and illustrate stories about an imaginary animal for a class assignment. Mine was about a three-legged creature, and two of the teachers agreed it was the best story in the class. Unfortunately, I no longer have a copy of that story, which might be why I always forget about it.

What is the single best sentence you've ever read?
It's two sentences, and I'm sure I'd find better ones if I really looked, but I've always loved this excerpt from Dana Adam Shapiro's The Every Boy: "It's amazing that someone who knows so much about the human body can know so little about people. I think it's time we laid all our stars out on the table." From Jacqueline Woodson's short story "Lorena," another exquisite one is: "Fire does that—leaves skeletons." It's impossible to pick just one sentence from that story though; I love the entire thing as a whole. In college, my favorite was this sentence from Denis Johnson's Jesus' Son: "The women were blank, shining areas with photographs of sad girls floating in them." But it feels a bit emo to me now.

What is your most evocative memory?
There are so very many, and it's hard to compare them all to each other, so I'll just pick the first that comes to mind. I'm only comfortable sharing publicly because I've written a fictionalized account of it before. I was either 14 or 15, and the new school year had just started. On the first day of Chinese school, instead of beginning the lesson, my teacher, who'd been with my class for about five years by that point, launched into a story about going to the beach with her husband and their twin boys over the summer. At first, because of both the language barrier and the tears that had already started streaming down her face, it was hard for us to understand where this was going. But by the end of it, we'd all pieced together the terrible truth: her kids had nearly drowned in the waves and her husband died after diving in to save them. It's the first time I can remember an Asian adult (or any adult, really) being that vulnerable and emotional in front of me, so the memory has always stuck with me. Nearly a decade later, I was invited to her house and saw her boys again; they had just graduated high school. It was then that the weight of her husband's sacrifice truly hit me.

What's the last book you didn't finish reading, and why did you put it down?
This Splintered Silence by Kayla Olson and The Apollo Murders by Chris Hadfield. I'm writing my first murder mystery novel right now, so I made the decision to read only murder mysteries this year. I wanted to fully immerse myself in the genre in order to dissect their parts, in order to understand what makes the successful stories work (and what makes the unsuccessful ones fail). I like to group my to-read list by subgenre, theme, or subject matter so I can stay in a similar headspace for a longer period of time, but I think I made a mistake starting with space-themed books. They were getting progressively less interesting to me as I moved through my list, and my novel isn't even set in space. So I've decided to move on to my next subgenre, which is dark academia. I might go back to the abandoned books later in the year if I have time.

What does your creative process look like?
Due to the health issues I alluded to earlier, I've had to completely overhaul my lifestyle, eating habits, sleep schedule, and writing routine in recent months, so I'm still figuring out what the future will look like. I used to work best in the middle of the night, but I can no longer stay up that late. My creative process is often chaotic. I find inspiration anywhere and everywhere, though the surprising ways in which my childhood memories and my dreams intersect with mundane events in the present is a major one. I keep a notes file where I jot down every single dream I can remember in as much detail as I can. Ditto for the childhood memories. There's always a lot of material to pull from, and I let my mind run wild from there. I write better with a deadline, so when I find a contest or submission call that fits one of my ideas, I usually use it as my motivation to get started and/or finish.

Many artists and authors are creative in multiple disciplines. What other types of art do you create?
I like to experiment with a wide range of art forms and mediums, such as pyrography, photography, resin, watercolor, cross stitch/embroidery, insect taxidermy, and more, all of which draw upon a deep sense of awe found in the natural world.

How old were you when you produced your first work? How was it received?
I wrote short stories as a toddler in notebooks riddled with stickers and drawings and have no other recollection of that time period; however, I did have the dream of publishing a real book since then. When I was twelve years old, I entered into a youth short story competition and published a story in an anthology. I was truly elated, but kept it to myself. I have always had the habit of keeping accomplishments to myself.

What is the single best sentence you've ever read?
“When you can’t get a miracle, you can be a miracle for someone else” -Nick Vujicic

What is your biggest creative doubt?
I lack faith in myself sometimes. I have worked at what feels like a snail’s pace to translate the internal into external, physical words on a page, and into a larger, interconnected body of work. I lack faith that it’ll all reach someone, and ultimately, leave some small imprint that makes the work matter to someone else.

What historical time would you most like to live in?
I stand on the shoulders of those who suffered on behalf of others, whether vulnerable populations or human beings as a whole. I stand on the shoulders of those who lived and died for basic rights, opportunities, and privileges which would never have been afforded to me in another time, and while there are deeply disturbing and terrifying parts of our current time period, I am happy to be alive right now. I am happy to have the opportunity to express myself creatively, freely, and share that with others, too.

What's the last book you didn't finish reading, and why did you put it down?
I have had multiple failed attempts to finish the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche. Every few sentences or so, I would need to underline a radiant phrase or concept that struck me someplace at the core of life, and existence itself. I had to set the book down to contemplate what needed to shift in my worldview, over and over. Then, I would restart the book at another point in time.

Whose work do you feel most resembles your own?
My work resembles a patchwork of what I fell in love with in the world, with some blunt tools picked up along the way to best describe what I observe; what I see, hear, touch, smell, taste, think embodied. Mimicry often feels disingenuous without direct overlap and visceral connection to my own lived experience. Of course, I have been drawn to certain poets over others but each has their own magical voice that stands apart from all others.

Many artists and authors are creative in multiple disciplines. What other types of art do you create?
I take pictures. It is a great pleasure to capture images, to magnify what seems inconsequential, and to frame things. Photos are easy to share, too, and evocative in a way that seems to bring people together.

What is the single best sentence you've ever read?
Too many to say. There is so much to glory in. So I’ll share one of many that strikes a chord with me. The first stanza of Walt Whitman’s “Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking” is one sentence (copied below from the Poetry Foundation website)

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,
Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle,
Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
Over the sterile sands and the fields beyond, where the child leaving his bed wander’d alone, bareheaded, barefoot,
Down from the shower’d halo,
Up from the mystic play of shadows twining and twisting as if they were alive,
Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,
From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,
From your memories sad brother, from the fitful risings and fallings I heard,
From under that yellow half-moon late-risen and swollen as if with tears,
From those beginning notes of yearning and love there in the mist,
From the thousand responses of my heart never to cease,
From the myriad thence-arous’d words,
From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
From such as now they start the scene revisiting,
As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
Borne hither, ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
A man, yet by these tears a little boy again,
Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,
Taking all hints to use them, but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing.

What is your most evocative memory?
Also too many to say. I think one of the most recent is the sound of birds outside a cabin in Grand Lake, Colorado. We were trying to celebrate our third child’s high school graduation and also see friends who had moved to Colorado, so I planned a trip to the west side of Rocky Mountain National Park. That’s a place I spent a lot of time as a kid, so it felt safe. But my husband ended up with Paxlovid rebound, and then I fell ill with Covid despite being careful. The hummingbirds would start before dawn and continue past dusk. You could hear their calls and wings. There were white-crowned sparrows singing, too. I remember all that sound, like threads embroidering the air.

What is your biggest creative doubt?
That I will ever belong anywhere.

What's the last book you didn't finish reading, and why did you put it down?
Moon: Letters, Maps, Poems by Jennifer S. Cheng. Each piece in it seems so perfect, that each time I begin to read it, I put it down and think. It is delicious in a way I want to savor, and so I’ve avoided finishing it, because I don’t want it to end.

What is the most unbelievable thing that has ever happened to you?
Our high school band was invited with all the bands in the region to march in a parade in St. Louis to celebrate the renovation of Union Station into a shopping mall. It was hot, the parade was delayed, kids started passing out. A woman stepped out of the crowd into the street, made me sit down on the curb with her, gave me a cold can of Sprite to drink, talked to me until I felt better, and told me I’d be all right. When I stood back up, a classmate asked where I’d gotten a soda. I said the woman. But everyone swore no one had been there. No one else saw her but me.

What does your creative process look like?
I wish I had one. Should I have one? All I know is that if I get into a groove with a process that works, soon it becomes a rut. Then I have to find another way.

Many artists and authors are creative in multiple disciplines. What other types of art do you create?
I beachcomb throughout New England for seaglass, fossils, and artifacts and make displays with what I find.

How old were you when you produced your first work? How was it received?
I was about 6 years old in the first grade, writing five page short stories that were essentially a Lord of The Rings rip off. My teacher was impressed.

What is your biggest creative doubt?
Sometimes I doubt that I’ll get a multi-million dollar movie deal, but only sometimes.

What historical time would you most like to live in?
I would love to explore colonial or pre-colonial era New England and see how much my home has changed.

Whose work do you feel most resembles your own?
I feel like I have a lot in common with Ray Bradbury; I switch between fantasy, SciFi, and horror pretty regularly.

What does your creative process look like?
When I’m working on a project, I stick to a disciplined nightly writing schedule for five nights a week, Mondays through Fridays. I produce between 750 and 1,500 words per session. When I’m not in the middle of a project, I usually spend those nightly hours reading nonfiction books for research and inspiration.

Many artists and authors are creative in multiple disciplines. What other types of art do you create?
I’m really a one-trick pony. My skills are in written communication, and that’s about it. I’m editor-in-chief of a luxury print magazine—Pen World, the premier English-language magazine about collectible fountain pens and handwriting culture—and as such, I put together every layout, every cover. I am told that the magazine has gotten quite beautiful during my tenure. Does that count?

I also do a really mean baby dance.

How old were you when you produced your first work? How was it received?
I’ve written as long as I can remember. When we got our first computer, an Apple IIC, the first thing I did was sit down at the word processor and write a story about a bunny rabbit going on a “Jack and the Beanstalk”-like adventure. I think I was about seven.

When we began weekly creative writing sessions when I was in 5th grade, I became the most popular kid in class—at least for those 45 minutes. So if you want to blame someone, blame the cool kids in my class who thought my writing was funny. They’re mostly lawyers now, so they should be able to defend themselves.

What is the single best sentence you've ever read?
Oh, I don’t know. Denis Johnson’s: “And you, you ridiculous people, you expect me to help you.” Best ending line of a short story ever. On the other hand, what counter-cultural 40-something writer who grew up in the suburbs doesn’t cite that line?

Any time Kurt Vonnegut wrote “Listen:”. It’s the colon that makes it. Of course, the colon also means it’s not technically a sentence, but the beauty of creative writing is that we can ignore the technicalities in pursuit of “art.”

Or the character of “God” in Genesis, the very first line. We often translate it as “Let there be light,” but Jack Miles in his book God: A Biography argues that a more correct translation of at least the tone of the Hebrew should read like a stage direction, with God as the director walking into the theater and commanding, “Light!”

What is your most evocative memory?
That one where I did stuff and then things happened to me. I’ll never forget it.

What is your biggest creative doubt?
That creative writing is a pointless, egotistical pursuit based on self-aggrandizement, not providing any tangible benefit to a world that is spinning rapidly out of control and a humanity that is ever-increasingly myopic and navel gazing. But I’m probably worrying about nothing.

What historical time would you most like to live in?
None! I’ve never understood people who are like, “I wish I lived during the Renaissance” or “I wish I lived in pre-historic times.” Good for you: die of a toothache if you want. I have enough problems with my teeth despite modern dental care.

What's the last book you didn't finish reading, and why did you put it down?
There are two. First book I just couldn’t finish is The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. In high school, it was one of only two times I used Cliff’s Notes (the other being Melville’s Billy Budd). I just tried picking it up a few months ago, and I still couldn’t get through the Custom House chapter. I love his short stories, but it just takes too long to get anywhere in that novel.

The other one is the New Testament. I can get through the Gospels, but the letters! Ye gods! Also, I’ll probably be stoned for saying this, but I just don’t find the character of Jesus to be compelling narratively. He’s a smug sophist who never answers a question directly, and there’s no dramatic tension because he’s purely good, being the son of God.

That being said, I am rather obsessed with the Jesus narrative, so maybe I’m speaking from literary jealousy. I’d ask Jesus, but I don’t believe in him. Don’t be offended, though: I’m an equal opportunity disbeliever. I think YAHWEH is a social construct, too. I just find YAHWEH to be a slightly more interesting character. Jesus knows himself. YAHWEH does not—at least, not “in the beginning.”

What is the most unbelievable thing that has ever happened to you?
Life as a whole is pretty unbelievable, so I guess I would say, “Being born.” It’s like, what just happened here?! I didn’t ask for this!

Also, aging as a whole is a pretty unbelievable process. It’s like, what’s wrong with you all of a sudden, body? Why can’t you just walk without severe pain piercing the small of my back, going through my ass and down my calf?! Do your job!

Whose work do you feel most resembles your own?
I hope no one’s work resembles mine. We’re all a synthesis of everything we’ve ingested—literature, music, television, etc.—but the combination of such influences should be unlike anything that’s come before.

What does your creative process look like?
My creative process is almost completely internal. I think and think and think, and once I’ve gotten all the thinking stuff in line, I write. So, I tend to write drafts in my head before I ever put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard). Once I start the writing process, it tends to come out pretty completely and cleanly.

The vignette you published here—I don’t consider it a short story, because I have serious issues with this whole “flash fiction” thing; I think it’s moved from an experiment in what fiction can do to a media and marketing strategy based on the capitalist needs of the publishing industry (whom I love, of course: Hi, publishing companies! Consider me! You’re doing great!)—took me maybe 20 minutes to write. Then the editing probably took another 20 minutes. On the other hand, “Crèche” is only about 1,000 words. On the other other hand, I have short stories that I started 20 years ago that I’m still tweaking.

Regardless, the majority of my drafting is an internal process. If an idea sticks with me despite it only being in my brain, then it’s worth exploring. If it doesn’t stick, the idea probably sucked anyway.