Ingrid Jendrzejewski

Ingrid Jendrzejewski started writing flash fiction in 2014 and has since found homes for around 100 pieces in places such as Passages North, The Los Angeles Review, Blue Five Notebook, The Conium Review, and Jellyfish Review. Her short collection, Things I Dream About When I’m Not Sleeping, was a runner-up for BFFA’s first Novella-in-Flash competition and will be published later this summer. She is currently a flash fiction editor at JMWW. Links to Ingrid’s work can be found at www.ingridj.com and she tweets @LunchOnTuesday.

What Goes Up, Volume 3, Issue 2
Interview

Mark Hudson

Mark Hudson is an Illinois poet and artist, who spends most of his time writing and doing art. He has a degree in creative writing from Columbia College, in Chicago, and has been published many times in-print, online, and internationally. To check out his poetry on the web go to Illinoispoets.org.

Balloons, Volume 3, Issue 2
Chicago Fire and Beautiful Fire, Volume 4, Issue 1
Interview
Judith’s Skull, Volume 5, Issue 1

To laugh or cry and What is Life?, Volume 5, Issue 2

Jack D. Harvey

Jack D. Harvey’s poetry has appeared in Scrivener, The Comstock Review, The Magnolia Review, The Antioch Review, The Piedmont Poetry Journal and a number of other online and in print poetry magazines over the years. The author has been a Pushcart nominee and over the years has been published in a few anthologies.

Cape Horn, Volume 3, Issue 2
Interview
Book Release, Mark the Dwarf
Kicking Against the Goads, Loneliness, Birth Month, and Six Mile Pond, Volume 4, Issue 2
Review, Volume 5, Issue 1
Angelic Hearts, Clown, Little Liza, Enter the Apocalypse, and Ravishment of the Holy Wisdom, Volume 5, Issue 1

Ode to Olivia, Non Doulet, Cassandra, Riding on the Bus, and Sunny Day, Volume 6, Issue 1

Vivi Davis

Vivi Davis is a junior at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, majoring in Psychology.  Her poetry has previously been selected and published in the Illumination Journal of UW-Madison. She enjoys kayaking, eating fresh bread, and playing string quartets with her friends.

Grip, Volume 3, Issue 2
Interview

Linda M. Crate

Linda M. Crate’s works have appeared in various magazines and anthologies both in print and online. She is the author of three chapbooks, the fantasy novels in the Magic Series, and the forthcoming fantasy novel Phoenix Tears.

the hope of feathers, i should not have laughed, and what kind of wisdom is that?, Volume 3, Issue 2
Interview

Roger Camp

Roger Camp is the author of three photography books including the award winning Butterflies in Flight (Thames & Hudson, 2002) and Heat (Charta, Milano, 2008). His work has appeared in over 100 magazines including The New York Quarterly, New England Review, and Witness.

Blue Baloon on the Seine, Ile St. Louis, Paris and Baloons with Heart, Kristiansand, Norway, Volume 3, Issue 2
Interview

Kirie Pedersen–Interview

The Magnolia Review: Describe your creative space. Do you work at home, in public spaces, etc.

Kirie Pedersen: I work in a 10×12 foot hut I call Eagle Cottage because bald eagles nest nearby, and they cackle as I write. Eagle Cottage was repurposed from a 1924 schoolhouse that was being demolished. If away from home, I write wherever I am and however I can: in the cramped corner of a rented room, a tent, or a bench outside in the sun.

TMR: What kind of materials do you use? Do you write by hand or type? What is your favorite writing utensil?

KP: Eagle Cottage is lined with journals, poetry, plays, novels, short stories, and books on writing craft. Close beside me are jars of colored pencils and fountain pens. My preferred pencils are the Japanese Ito-ya and American Palamino Blackwing 602. If you’re an addict for writing materials, as I am, I suggest checking out Johny at pencilrevolution.com. I also love cartridge ink pens. I write in notebooks and confess to scraps of paper tucked into small wooden boxes beside my writing perch in Eagle Cottage. I’ve always liked to type, and do so on my laptop.

TMR: What is your routine for writing?

KP: I’m up at dawn, downing coffee before I get out of bed. After early morning bonding with my husband, also a writer, I head to Eagle Cottage along a path through the trees. Before I start writing, I read a poem out loud. I just finished Words for the Wind by Theodore Roethke, and now it’s Czeslaw Milosz New and Collected Poems (1931-2001). I write in forty-minute increments. I set my phone alarm on the other side of the cottage, so I’m forced to move. No matter how hard it is to start writing every single day, once I start, I enter a time warp. I call these forty-minute increments “ticks,” which I jot in a notebook in Roman Numeral form, and at the end of every week and month, I report my ticks to my Artist Chicken.

What on earth is an Artist Chicken?

An Artist Chicken, since you ask, is an art partner. My Artist Chicken is Norwegian-American fiber artist Lise Solvang. Lise and I check in every week to talk about our artist goals. If we’re in the same town, we talk while hiking; otherwise we meet by phone. We alternate who goes first, and when the other is speaking, we don’t interrupt or comment. Our purpose isn’t to critique each other’s work, but to support each other for completing artistic goals. Siri named us. After Lise and I attended a workshop on goal-setting, where we learned how important an art-partner can be, we decided to formalize our hiking chats. “This is to confirm a weekly artist check-in,” I voice texted Lise. When I noticed the correction, I thought “Artist Chicken” made perfect sense. Lise raises chickens and ducks, and they watch her as she works. Their search for sustenance juxtaposed with perching and producing, the threats from predators, and their complex communications provide the perfect analogy for the creative life.

TMR: How long have you been writing? When did you start writing?

KP: As recorded by my mother in my baby book, as a toddler I was telling her “talking dreams.” “The little voice talks to me, Mommy, and gives me the dream,” is how she describes it. My mother was a writer and my father an artist, so I progressed to drawing picture-stories, and then to actual writing. I didn’t really know how to interact with other kids, but I received early praise for writing, so I just kept going.

TMR: Who is your intended, or ideal, audience? Who do you write for?

KP: When I was a child, my parents and five siblings were my “first readers,” and I’d force them to sit around on the beach or at a picnic table as I read my latest work. Later, my parents would go over a piece, Dad tearing it to bits and Mom praising, and then I’d stay up all night rewriting. When I started publishing (“send it out,” my mother’s refrain) once the story, article, essay, or poem was “taken,” it was as if I hadn’t written it at all. When I read my own work, I still wonder who wrote it.

TMR: What inspires you to write? If you are blocked, what do you do?

KP: It’s hard for me to get the clutter of talking-story out of my head. If in a public place, I am recording ideas based on what I overhear. When I’m walking on forest or desert paths with my dogs, stories or essays “write themselves.” My block isn’t about writing, but for sending work out. One trick is to treat submissions as play, using brightly-colored pens and pencils, Semi-Kolon boxes, notecards and clips to trick my inner five-year old into this “game.” Another is to treat submissions as work, as in I show up for jobs for forty or sixty hours a week, so why not show up for myself? It helps that I have to report to my Artist Chicken. Who never judges or condemns.

TMR: What other things do you do besides writing? Do you dance or play golf, etc.?

KP: I am crazy over wildlife and read guidebooks on natural history: types of plants, trees, mammals, sea life, birds, snakes, and insects. On walks and hikes, I encounter some of these in the wild, and I like to know their names. When I’m in a new town, city or country, I learn everything I can about the culture, language, architecture, and history. I was actually hired to guide hikes in a town I’d only visited for less than a year. Besides walking alone with my dog, my favorite activity is to walk one-on-one with a friend.

The quiet joy of my life is reading. I prefer reading hard copy, but I also maintain a database of around 500 magazines, and over the space of, say, a year, I read them all. I also follow and support fellow writers. Two favorite blogs are Becky Fuch’s Review Review and, from Britain, DoveGreyReader Scribbles, about books, gardens, and textile arts.

TMR: What is your favorite part of the creative process?

KP: The motion and magic of pencil or pen on paper, or fingers on keys. I believe writing begins as a form of play; perhaps the child who loves listening to stories or reading and then creating stories of her own. She carves figures onto the wall of the cave, even in secret that no one will ever see. The little voice talks to me, Mommy, and gives me the dream.

TMR: What is your advice to aspiring writers?

KP:

Show Up:

Writing is about showing up for myself. Writing is how I make sense of the world. If writing (or drawing, painting, throwing pots, weaving, singing, or dance) is how one figures stuff out, she needs to continue for as long as the act kindles some kind of joy.

Persist:

On the other side of that right-brained act, though, is showing one’s art and self to the world. For me, being seen was the scary part. I’d spend years on a book, send it to one place, and if declined, that was the end of that. I’ve met so many talented writers who spent years in incredible graduate programs, and then met once with an agent or publisher, and that was the end of the writing life for them.

Set Goals:

I love the darkest days of the year because that’s when I take time to reflect. What do I want to accomplish in one year, or three, or ten? If I were to die painlessly in six months, how would I live until then? What are my guiding principles? Without thinking much, I write lists, set them aside, and then revisit. Every year, I select ten or twenty goals, and then boil those down to the top three. If writing’s my top goal, I examine each day to carve out, at least, fifteen or forty minutes. I become accountable for how I want to live.

Practice “cool loneliness:”

I’ve wasted plenty of time creating drama and caretaking others, whether they asked me or not. Now I step back and observe my thoughts and behavior. I keep my drama on the page, including the drama of comparing. If I can’t have what she has, I won’t write at all. If he’s mean to me, I’ll strike back. But how can I become better at what I love if I never try?

Read and play; play and read:

Read literary magazines. Read books. Support independent bookstores. Find colored pencils or pens and draw a picture story. Celebrate every day in some small or big way. Despite witnessing (and battling) great evil in World War II Warsaw, Nobel Prize winner Czeslaw Milosz instructs: “…have a beautiful time/As long as time is time at all.

Check out Kirie’s work in the issue, Volume 3, Issue 1, which won The Magnolia Review Ink Award.

 

Julia D. McGuinness–Interview

The Magnolia Review: Describe your creative space. Do you work at home, in public spaces, etc.?

Julia D. McGuinness: I work in different ways in different spaces. I love writing in coffee shops. There I can feel free to write in a playful, exploratory way, perhaps experimenting with ideas and writing spontaneously at the drafting stage. I can relax with the noise of life around me as it makes no demands on my personal attention.

When writing moves from drafting to crafting, I seek silence. This can be in the solitude of my study, overlooking our garden at home, and often with a quietly snoring cat in what used to be my easy chair.

I’m also privileged to live near Gladstone’s Residential Library in North Wales. The Library there is a beautiful, silent space. Since my Mother died early in 2016, I committed myself to making the time to spend a day there each week to read, reflect and write.  My only ‘rule’ is that what I do there does not have to justify itself by being directly useful to my working life (though in fact, nothing is wasted).

TMR: What kind of materials do you use? Do you write by hand or type? What is your favorite writing utensil?

JDM: Personal writing and the first drafts of creative writing are always done by hand. Somehow the physical process keeps me close and connected to my material. I can scribble, cross things out and literally write in any direction. When a more settled structure emerges—say, a particular shape for a poem, I’ll transcribe the latest draft onto computer and complete the work onscreen.

My favourite writing  implement is my slimline turquoise and silver ballpoint pen. It feels elegant in my hand. Turquoise is my favourite colour—the perfect integrated blend of creative green and peaceful blue.

TMR: What is your routine for writing?

JDM: In my ideal world, I write in the morning and see clients or run workshops in the afternoon—what I call my ‘below the waterline’ and ‘above the waterline’ work. In practice, I write best in whatever uninterrupted blocks of time and space I can find. Committing to my non-negotiable Gladstone’s day keeps me anchored and disciplined in a weekly rhythm that prioritises writing.

TMR: How long have you been writing? When did you start writing?

JDM: I’ve enjoyed writing for as long as I can remember. As a child I wrote stories for my younger brother and kept diaries for myself. Poetry became more important in teenage years as a way of expressing deep-felt emotion. I also created my own small magazine, which I called Check-In. I circulated it round relatives and family friends. Some of them did very well in my competitions, but the prizes weren’t very spectacular!

TMR: Who is your intended, or ideal, audience? Who do you write for?

JDM: What a sensible, but difficult question!  I hope to engage any reader who is interested or wants to be informed, (depending on the sort of writing). It sounds embarrassingly selfish to say I write for myself, but the truth is I write because I want to. I love the alchemy of turning experience, thoughts and feelings into words that can become a bridge to link to others’ lives.

TMR: What inspires you to write? If you are blocked, what do you do?

JDM: Inspiration starts when something arrests my attention. I describe it as the feeling when a piece of our clothing snags on a piece of barbed wire: You have to stop and take note. It might be something I’ve read; words spoken to me or overheard; a picture; heart-stirrings in response to beauty or loss.

If I’m blocked, I try to step back or change tack, rather than try too hard to bash away at the rock!  I might need a break, to write something different, or to seek some new stimulation and allows space to come back to a piece with a new perspective.

TMR: What other things do you do besides writing? Do you dance or play golf, etc.?

JDM: I enjoy time-out at the gym to re-balance by giving the body some attention and the mind a rest. It’s good to be out and about—we live near the historic city of Chester and some beautiful countryside.

TMR: What is your favorite part of the creative process?

JDM: I love the research and playing with possibilities; then I love crafting and honing what I’ve written. That middle bit, getting down to the first serious draft of words on the page, is the hardest!

TMR: What is your advice to aspiring writers?

JDM: Write foremost because you want to. Stay interested in reading and learning from others’ writing. Enjoy exploring and experimenting to find your own voice. Give yourself permission not to write perfectly, as otherwise you may feel inhibited about writing at all.

Check out Julia’s work in the issue, Volume 3, Issue 1.

 

Marjorie Bloom–Interview

My true writing space is a small home office. A window to the left of my desk, just large enough to see daylight, sky, some green. I begin a new poem on lined 8 1/2 by 11, comfortable Cross pen in hand. Sometimes I transfer a poem to a large artist’s pad in order to visualize the poem  “larger.” After a few drafts, I usually move to my computer. Here I focus on revision. For a long time I was in love with the seminal emotions, imaginings, words and sounds of a poem; but now I practice “re-seeing” each aspect of craft, its configuration in the whole. I also read the poem aloud to hear the sounds it makes, over and over. It can take me several years to write some poems; these need time to evolve.

A small space in my home office is delineated by a rectangular rug and several folded blankets for meditation and Iyengar asana practice. This, too, demands focus and persistent work.  So I would say to an aspiring writer as I say to myself: persist. When in the stream of writer’s block, cut off from persistence, I feel uncomfortable. So I remind myself of two things. There is something else in life that I must tend to now. And the writing of poems— my great joy—will return.

Check out Marjorie’s work in the issue, Volume 3, Issue 1.