Iceland Writers Retreat

In what I wish was the beginning of a joke, I ate so hard during the Thanksgiving holiday I may have injured my esophagus. Probably a gift from my trip to Vietnam, where one of my anti-malarial pills got stuck in my throat as I went to bed. Suffice to say, I was in quite a bit of discomfort and in the market for some good news when, lo and behold, I was contacted by the Iceland Writers Retreat.

I’m happy to share that I’ve been selected to receive one of five Alumni Awards to attend this workshop. My fellow award winners look to be doing meaningful work, and I am very excited for this opportunity. As a side note, I was a finalist for this award last year, so I recommend that anyone interested in this experience to persevere and keep applying.

For more information, you can find IWR’s release here and see just a few of the amazing people I’ll have the pleasure of meeting this coming April.

“No Machine” to appear in Electric Literature

I just got done signing the contract for a flash fiction piece that will be appearing in Electric Literature’s Recommended Reading this fall. Early indications suggest that it’ll appear in vol. 33 in October. One could bet their butt that I will announce it and link directly to the story once it’s out in the world.

The story draws heavily from my time working with captive apes and is another in a long line of attempts where I try to use fiction to capture elements of the personhood of nonhuman beings (apes here) that I couldn’t doing science. I demoed this story in February, opening for George Saunders for a reading here in Tulsa (mentioned in this post).

If anyone is interested in seeing what kinds of work EL’s Recommended Reading publishes, check out the fantastic, little post-apocalyptic flash piece, told in a single sentence, by my fellow TAFwriter, Simon Han, “How to Eat Well at the End of the World.”

Acceptance Letter (Specifics TBA)

I’m happy to announce that another of my essays has been accepted for publication. Until I have all the details finalized, I can’t give you true specifics. I am proud of this one.

MaynardThe piece, like “Worry,” was very personal and very easy to write. I wrote it to process and in some ways escape the death of my dog (the handsome fella to the right). It just flowed out. After it was done, I was reminded of the sheer biological necessity of my writing. This catharsis was vital. I knew I’d done it right when, after the rush of writing and editing and submitting, I felt scooped out and empty. I’d been excavated. For several days, I lay on the couch and could do nothing. It hurt and was numb and felt good all at once.

I’m so thankful that I’ll be able to share it with you soon. Maynard touched my life very deeply, and I hope this piece manages to extend his reach even more.