Summer 2025 Author Mini-Interviews
To give authors a chance to talk more about their process and craft, or just to give us a little more insight into their piece, we provided them with a list of questions from which they could pick one to answer. We hope you enjoy this peek behind the curtain!
Angela Townsend
Q: Tell us about the place/conditions under which you do your best writing.
A: I am most fully alive when I write at my knotty IKEA desk, which is the color of graham crackers and pockmarked by a thousand ungraceful landings by my cats. (The presence of the cats is requisite for even passable writing.) Not only is this little nook furnished with moonstone cats, plastic aliens, four Jesus figurines, and a miniature Mister Rogers, but it is also fortified with photographs of people who would love me if I never wrote another good word. Two of them are cats. Most of them have crossed the great expanse. Before I write, I look each one in the eyes and ask them to pray for me. There is my father, when he was young. My grandparents, in matching Christmas sweaters. And, yes, the two cats who chaperoned my twenties and thirties. I write best when held by community across space and time. My ridiculous white desk chair spins around in as many revolutions as needed.
Caroline Okello
A: What do you do when you’re stuck on a piece?
A: My getting stuck on a piece is usually a me-problem, never anything to do with the story I am writing. It could be that I am feeling afraid of where the story is leading me, or I have written a false line but keep on going because I want to finish a story in time for a submission or whatever. You know, stories don’t like to be bullied. If I write a false line and insist I can make it work, I’ll hit a dead end at some point. I’ll have to retrace my footsteps to the original sin and make things right (you hear that, America? Original sins don’t just disappear). I’ll end up missing the deadline anyway because between getting stuck and trying to figure out where I went wrong and then doing the repair work, who knows how long it is going to take ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It sucks, so you might as well be honest from the very beginning. Journaling usually helps me figure out the things that scare me. Slowing down usually helps me listen to the story.
Sarah Bess Jaffe
Q: What do you do when you’re stuck on a piece?
A: When I'm stuck — really stuck, not just reluctant — I give myself permission to get up from the desk and move my body. Sometimes that's enough to get it going, but if not, the next step is to paint or draw, just to turn on the creative tap until the water starts running clear. And then the last resort is to let myself write an unbearably shitty draft or a totally wrong ending. You can edit those, but you can't edit a blank page.
Andrea Bishop
Q: What do you do when you’re stuck on a piece?
A: I did get stuck after the first draft of this piece. It started with a very strong image of a couple of empty-nesters, each reacting differently when one of a pair of finches, almost frenetic with the action of child-rearing, hits their window. I knew the image had enough heat that I needed to stick it out and land the story, but initially it read more like a prose poem than a narrative. It’s kind of ironic because the story itself plays around with movement versus stillness, exploring how taking the time to bear witness to someone’s pain or fear can be powerful and kind, even when action might feel better.
Usually I over-write, which is lucky because I find it easier to chisel extraneous story away. For me, it’s more challenging to layer in elements that don’t show up in the first draft, character, action, complexity of any kind. In this case, for the second draft, I started over by free-writing from the main character’s POV. I sat with her and after a while she told me more about herself and the story part of her story came out.
I hope you enjoy how it landed.
Rachana Pathak
Q. How did this piece begin? What was its seed idea?
A. It started with a color-coded bookshelf. It felt false, and I kept wondering who would arrange their books like that and what they needed others to believe. That question led to Sim. She notices things. She’s sharp, a little judgmental, and deeply unsettled by anything that feels staged. She wants the world to be honest, even when it isn’t.