Blue Mosaic Me

Well, Here Goes Nothing

2012-01-28T11:42:00.000-08:00

So I finally did it, I sent my complete, fully revised manuscript + sophomore novel, The Ninjas of My Greater Self, to agent extraordinaire, Georges Borchardt, agent of Elie Wiesel, Ian McEwan, Robert Coover, TC Boyle, who is also in charge of the estates of Tennessee Williams, Aldous Huxley + John Gardner, this is the man who first introduced America to Lacan, Barthes, Bourdieu, Fanon, Duras, Foucault, Ionesco + Sartre. Yes, this dude is a big fucking deal, representing over 8 Pulitzer Prize winners + 2 Noble Prize winners, in fact, he may be the biggest fucking deal I've submitted to in my entire life. And while sending him my novel (which he asked for in its entirety last year after I'd sent him the first 145 pages + an outline) honestly scares the shit out of me because it puts me on the chopping block, at the same time, I kinda want to get this over with, one way or another. Does that sound bleak? I guess it does. But Ninjas is the best thing I've ever written yet. It's a fucking awesome novel, it really is.

And at this point, while nothing would make me happier in the whole fucking world than for Georges to pick me up as a client, if he doesn't, I guess at this point, I want to know that, accept that + go on with my life + stop pining for something that's not gonna happen. It's just the realist in me. Of course I'd be bummed if he didn't give me a shot, but I'd find a way to soldier on. Hopefully, though, he loves this novel enough to say yes. God knows how that would totally transform my writing career . . . I hope he sees what I see. It could be the beginning of something massive if he did.

Good Rejection from Missouri Review

2012-01-24T12:38:00.000-08:00

Jackson,

Thank you for allowing us to consider " . . . " for publication in The Missouri Review. The writing is stout and polished and has a strong sense of style, but, unfortunately, the story does not currently fit our needs. We appreciate your interest in our magazine and your commitment to quality writing.

We wish you the best of luck publishing your work and hope you continue to send us more selections in the future.

Sincerely,
The Editors

1st Story Accepted in 2012

2012-01-04T05:52:00.000-08:00

Wow, look at this shit, it appears I may be on a roll, people. Two accepted short stories in two months! すごい，な？Whether this is part of a new trend or whether it's the last acceptance I'm gonna get for years, either way, I'm fucking ecstatic to get a piece accepted in Quarter After Eight. I've been sending them stories since 2006 + this is a small major victory for me. Also, considering how great the innovative writing is in QAE + how QAE has published well-known writers like David Shields, Steven Millhauser, John D'Agata,, I'm flattered to be a contributor of that journal. Anyway, here's the acceptance email:

Hi Jackson,

Thanks once again for your patience. Also, I'm glad to say that we
have room for "Kothar" in our next issue due out in February. It's a
piece we all enjoyed reading and are excited to feature in QAE.

Now we need you to provide an electronic signature to the attached
contract by typing in your name and send it back. Also, please attach
a .doc copy of the piece. Finally, we need a brief biographical
statement that you can include in the body of the email.

I'm glad this worked out.

Best,

Steve

Payment is a contributor's copy of the issue your in.

Good Rejection from Five Points

2011-12-17T12:59:00.001-08:00

Dear Writer:

Thank you for sending us your work. We really enjoyed this piece, but we didn't feel it was right for Five Points.

We hope that you will continue to send us your work.

Sincerely,

The Editors of Five Points

2011-12-18 04:44:27 (GMT +0:00)

10 Reasons Why You Should Buy Your Books Locally

2011-12-14T22:03:00.000-08:00

Whether we like it or not, Amazon.com has become the interface of the new commerce. And while there are a things that I think Amazon.com does extremely well, especially in terms of its broad marketplace of products, it's endless library of customer reviews that can be really helpful (predating Yelp by like a decade), especially when not sockpuppeted, at the same time, it's impossible for any company to excel in every department, which is a good segue I think to why you should buy your books locally for the holidays + forever after:

1. Every time you buys books locally, you help support small businesses (and small business are actually people's dreams made real), which means you're helping support your city, which means you're helping support a neighborhood in your city--those are already good enough reasons. For every semester at SC, I'd print out my long list of books for my graduate seminars + take the subway to Skylight Books in Los Feliz + order a shitload of books. And after I'd dropped like $500-$600 for books for my field exams recently, Meg, one of the savvy, charming bibliophiles working there, said to me: --Hey, thanks for paying for my job. And then it hit me how interconnected local businesses + individual needs are . . .

2. No matter how cheap the deals are on Amazon.com (et al.), saving a few dollars will never replace the material marketplace of culture + creativity inside physical bookstores. Bookstores are places where you can escape from your roommate who watches 15 hours of "Sex in the City," where you can look up shit in the Writer's Guide to Literary Journals, skim the next McSweeney's, shake your head at a dog-eared, mostly wrinkled copy of the New Yorker + sometimes "glance" at an already-open copy of Penthouse. Bookstores are safe spaces for intellectuals, artists, autodidacts, current event junkies + people-watchers. Bookstores are: 1/4 café, 1/4 library, 1/4 refuge + 1/4 transient hotel. If you're an aspiring writer, you need to see what people are buying on the new book shelf + what journals are publishing in your genre. Period (.).

3. Most of the time, the people working in indie bookstores are fucking passionate about books, passionate about reading + passionate about language, which is not only an amazing resource for you, but also, that kind of bibliophilia is infectious + exciting to be around.

4. Many indie bookstores are also showcases for both established + emerging literary fiction writers + poets. While the big chains can + do offer many of the same privileges (which is a great thing), small indie bookstores cater to great literary fiction. They tend to live + breathe it. On the other hand, at large chain bookstores, they are selling too many kinds of books to specialize in literary fiction/poetry: besides lots of great novels, there's also a lot of absolute shit, coloring books, cookbooks, badly ghost-written celebrity memoirs, romance novels with steroidal male bodies on the cover, CD's + DVD's, a million derivative vampire thrillers, James Patterson drivel, maps + atlases, already-clawed magazines, private journals with lockets, kindle knock-offs, nauseatingly cute animal calenders, even packets of Starbucks coffee, mugs + chocolate bars. And while I think it's great these stores exist to satisfy a larger demographic, not to mention, they routinely have little cafés too (which is rad), at the same time, only the indie bookstores fight the good fight each + every day, showcasing the best in literary writing on both the shelf + behind the mic. If indie bookstores perished in America, literary fiction/poetry would die. College campuses would then become the last protector of great literary art, further removing literary fiction from mainstream culture than it already is.

5. Small, local indie bookstores prove that writing still matters. It's easy as an emerging fiction writer to feel like your writing doesn't affect anyone anymore (except underpaid, overworked editors who reject our asses routinely), but walk into Powell's in PDX, for example, + you'll see right away that the stories we create, the stories we invent, the stories we live on, all have an impact, there's an infinite potentiality of language waiting to be discovered in the aisles, helping us remember that our own literary creativity still resonates with people on an important cultural level

6. Buying books locally is an investment in tangibility in the floating world. While personally I think it's an awesome fucking world we live in when you can download a kindle version of virtually any novel in the whole world + while I think eNovels are also ecologically responsible + also intellectually practical in terms of giving us the ability to carry our entire library with us, at the same time, there are many traditionalists (myself included) who will never get over our love affair with physical books, the intoxication of the smell of a new (old) novel, the way that words have an actual weight in your hand (or in your backpack or purse), the way that pages can be folded, touched, flipped back + forth (a soft splash of air hitting us between the eyes every time), the way paragraphs can be scarred with violent marginalia, even the sound of a book triumphantly plopped on a table after we've finished reading it helps us stay grounded to materiality. All of these things matter, especially in a world where once-concrete objects are now becoming more + more graphic, more iconic, more visual, less tangible--an entire world reduced to jpg.'s, word + pdf files, organized + contained within desktop folders + attachments. And while I think that readers should never have to choose between hard + digital copies, there's something to be said about the intimacy of a physical novel, the way it becomes the center of your life inside your satchel, the way it captures your attention as you pass your bookcase in the hallway years later + suddenly remember the 2-7 days you loved no one else.

7. Indie bookstores foster a sense of community. While there are plenty of valid, seasonal reasons to order books online from time to time (e.g. avoiding holiday crowds or long lines at the post office where you'll drop a shitload of money sending books priority mail or waiting a small eternity for the media rate to do its fucking job), I personally think these situations should be exceptional. It's great we can do so much shit online, but the more we spend behind our computers, the less connected we are with people in the physical world, the less we know how to be human socially (+ writers are intrinsically social artists on one important level since writing involves people + it involves readers). And while large megastores chains are great for anonymity + sheer breadth of selection, smaller indie bookstores are crucial in giving all of us misfits a place to meet up together + exist. Small local bookstores, at their best, becomes subcultures for an art form that doesn't know how to die.

8. Indie bookstores don't bully the publishing market the way the big chains do, they support it. Barnes & Noble, until recently, Borders, didn't just sell books, they actually controlled a large chunk of the marketplace. Editors, for example, use(d) the various sales rankings of the big chains (among other things) in order to not only gauge current projects, but to examine future book projects (e.g. "well, this author's last novel never made it to the B&N superstore rankings list . . ."). Publishing houses actively swoon/charm/coddle the big chains because they know that if they can get them to buy a ton of their books, the big chains will actively try selling the books they've invested in, which means those books become more visible because they're marketed, which often means more people buy those books because they're more visible, which makes those books profitable (helping both the large chain + the publishing house), which makes that author a good future investment. And when the big chains aren't interested in a new novel, that novelist's career becomes endangered with poor sales. But not so with indie bookstores who don't give a shit about Nielson Bookscan stats, NYT bestseller rankings, or other dubious metrics of so-called literary talent where great art poses as sales figures (as if great writing could ever be quantified). Small, locally-owned, indie bookstores only care about great writing, plain + simple. And the reality is that aspiring writers need to embrace locally owned, indie bookstores because they are the greatest allies of literary fiction in this whole world.

9. Local, indie bookstores can be meccas for beautiful, articulate, eccentric, stylish, smart, critical-thinking post-hipster hipsters who make reading sexy. 'Nuff said.

10. Your local bookstore is a sanctuary in our bustling word. Inside the aisles, time stops. Like a Borgesian paradise, bookstores are wrinkles of time-travel, passing moments of linguistic rapture + personal evolution. Your local bookstore is the place where you can be anything you want, a babel of narrative voices chanting from the pages, where the din of impatient drivers outside is muted by the soft, slow, sensuality of words circling around you, rushing to meet your eyes with every open book + smother you in an orgy of details.

The Ugly Side of Being a Fiction Writer (My Guidelines for Aspiring Fiction Writers)

2011-12-11T00:13:00.000-08:00

Recently it's come to my attention through some spirited exchanges on Literary Rejections on Display, as it does at least 100 times every year, how ugly it can get trying to make it as a novelist. Now, I don't claim to have all the answers. If anything, I probably have too many questions. And though I've made some definite progress in my writing career (for which I'm always grateful for), for the most part, to quote Chris Parris-Lamb, the best part of my writing career is definitely ahead of me. All of this makes me want to lay out my own guidelines as an emerging fiction writer. These won't be your guidelines + they won't be your mother's either, unless she writes literary fiction like a motherfucker, but they are my guidelines + they help me remember what's really important in this industry. Maybe, just maybe, they'll help someone out there:

1. Don't hate on other writers. You have every right to crit the shit out of their technique or dislike their novel, or disagree with the premise of one of their short stories or remain emotionally unaffected by the characterization of their last book--published or not--but don't hate on the author. You don't fucking know the author at all, so stop pretending you do. You have no idea how much time she spends working on her writing, how much time he spends editing + revising + changing + pruning + re-revising + editing + revising his shit all over again, how dedicated she is trying to publish her novel + make her career into something besides a delusion of grandeur. For some reason, writers, especially fiction writers can be the most judgmental motherfuckers in the whole world. Put that shit in your novel + spare other writers your own couch psychoanalysis because I promise you, you're wrong 99% of the time when you think you know the author. Also, if you think an aspiring writer is whiny, try submitting 300 manuscripts in three years + then tell me how you're feeling about the industry. The vast majority of the time, writers judge other writers really harshly who are working just as hard as they are + often, even harder, to get to where they are. But all of our hard work is invisible until we get something published, sad as that is.

2. Hate the industry, not the people working in it: While I've never met an editor I didn't totally respect/admire, I've read a lot of industry stories that make me shit on myself. It's time to take a reality pill: The industry, despite itself, publishes fantastic writing (e.g. Jeffrey Eugenides, Jennifer Egan, Don Delillo, Junot Diaz, Haruki Murakami, Susan Choi, Aimee Bender, TC Boyle, Joan Didion, Chuck Palahniuk, Susan Steinberg, Carole Maso, Lydia Davis, Michael Chabon, Phillip Roth, Salman Rushdie, Percival Everrett, Jhumpa Lahiri, Ha Jin, Susan Choi, Julie Ostuka, Nami Mun, to name just a few). But it also publishes a lot of absolute crap: Celebrity memoirs, talented movie stars that publish shitty short story collection just because they're famous (James Franco, I'm talking to you, punk), reality TV stars like Kim Kardashian, Snookie, Amanda Knox. True, commercial shit pays for literary fiction, that's the rub. But it's precisely because publishing houses publish so much crap that literary fiction has no chance of succeeding, making it a self-fulfilling prophecy. It's about accessibility: People can only buy what you put out there + if you don't put enough quality literary fiction, people don't buy it + then then the genre stagnates, slowly dying, continuing the cycle.

And while the above authors don't write workshoppy fiction, a lot of MFA grads who do get contracts do, publishing stories that agents have told me are totally derivative + safe + uninspiring + extremely polished bullshit that no one cares about. If they're lucky, they're one + out. But people need fiction that really matters. The above parenthetical writers do that, but how many other fiction writers never get through to us? Why was Confederation of Dunces not published until after John Kennedy Toole committed suicide? Why is it that we can read Jack London's Martin Eden + it still rings true about the insane cliff of rejection we face that arbitrarily changes even when our writing doesn't? I think about a story Aimee (Bender) told me once how once she had an agent, journals that had rejected her short stories suddenly started accepting the exact same stories, which really pissed her off in the beginning . . . who in his right mind would try + defend that? The system is fucked, but the people working in it are the true champions of the industry. Contradiction? Yup.

3. Don't listen to anyone who says you should fuck all the rules of follow all of them. Personally, I follow 97% of the industry rules, choosing to selectively fight my own battles the other 3% of the time. But some people treat the publishing industry as if it's some sacred child prophet--don't. It's not. It can be improved. It deserves to be critiqued. There are plenty of flaws in the system. But there are also plenty of things that are right about it too, like the authors mentioned above, like publishing houses taking a risk + publishing great art, something that's smart + challenging + richly creative like Infinite Jest + Underworld + Gravity's Rainbow + Ulysses + Hardboiled Wonderland + The End of the World + Ava + A Night at the Movies + Patchwork Girl + so many other great works of art out there, there are plenty of things working in publishing right now, like underpaid, literature-loving editors who are working nights + weekends because they love fiction more than their spouses. In fact, don't listen to anyone else's rules on writing fiction or submitting or craft maxims or writer ego or writer humility, not even mine. Write your own fucking rules + figure out which ones work for you.

4. Don't apologize about your self-confidence. To be honest, you'll fucking need it to make it in this industry. Otherwise, you'll eventually give up after you realize that some authors are publishing stories that are as good, if not worse, than your own stories, which will (should) piss you off. Mary Yukari Waters once told me that your confidence should be quiet confidence. She's probably right. Either way, you'll be criticized for believing in your own ability, you'll be criticized for believing in your own art, for believing that with enough hard work, time + serendipity, you can be the next Hemingway or Salinger or Junot Diaz or Jennifer Egan, for believing that your shit is actually comparable to other authors who've already made it to The Show. But listen, don't pay attention to the haters or the critics. Art isn't modest, it doesn't ask for permission + frankly, often it's not even welcome in the gallery. You just write your ass off + try to meet the right people who love your art + even better, happen to be powerful in the industry too.

Here's the other crazy thing: When you start working with well-known novelists, they'll be the first ones to tell you you've got the right stuff, don't give up, you've got it, keep pushing it, keep writing, you're really talented, you're gonna make it someday if you don't give up, you're already a novelist. They'll actually affirm what you tell yourself on the rough days (which can be every day). And all the things your haters + critics told you you aren't + shouldn't be, all the things they criticize about you, your mentors will, in their own way, affirm that you are + you should be, as long as you have discipline, talent + dedication, as long as you never give up + fight for your outrageous dream. Of course, your critics will tell you you're arrogant + ungrateful, but your mentors, your inner self, the budding artist within, all of them will know that you're not arrogant (that implies you think you're better than other people, a thought you've never had), you're just confident in your own ability, + also hard-working + insatiable + ambitious + creative enough to never be complacent with what you've got, never settling for what the industry gives you, but always creating new momentum for yourself in each possible lifetime. That's how you slowly make your own career, by never settling + always thanking those who have helped you--two things I've always done my entire writing career, two things I'll never stop doing.

Either way, you have to believe in your art, otherwise you'll get your heart broken + you'll give up or you'll burn up with envy + despair, + then a 1,000 other aspiring fiction writers will rush to fill your empty space you worked so hard to carve out for yourself. The truth is, people will always call you arrogant as long as you think your writing deserves to be read, but as long as you're still writing + publishing, who fucking cares what they think about you? Really, the critics/haters are making you strong for the next phase of your career, so you should thank them.

Good Rejection from Milkweed Editions

2011-12-07T23:55:00.001-08:00

I know this is a form rejection (I know I know I know I know), but compared to the last rejection I got from Milkweed, this one feels so much more supportive + appreciative, that I decided to post it anyway, just because it made me feel kinda good, even though this is the second book of mine they've rejected. Anyway, here it is:

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you for letting us consider " . . . " which we’ve read with much interest. I’m afraid, though, it isn't quite right for Milkweed Editions.

Please understand that we assemble our small list from the enormous number of manuscripts we receive each year, which means that we must make difficult decisions about manuscripts such as yours. Often these decisions have less to do with the quality of your work, and more to do with the incredibly competitive climate surrounding manuscript review. Please know that we’ve appreciated the opportunity to spend time with " . . . " and your patience in awaiting a reply.

We wish you all the best in your continued literary endeavors, and thank you for thinking of Milkweed Editions.

Sincerely,
Ben Barnhart
Milkweed Editions

2011-12-07 16:52:10 (GMT -6:00)

My Advice to Another Aspiring Fiction Writer on Submitting to Literary Journals

2011-11-29T09:23:00.000-08:00

Darren Manley, a writer friend of mine, asked me for advice on submitting to literary journals since I've been killing trees for years now. By the time I'd finished, I thought my response might possibly be helpful to other aspiring writers who are braving the odds. Obviously, if you have a fucking agent, then you have different rules. And, I'd like to point out that my publication history is lean at best. But since I have had a few good publications to my name, I thought this might be helpful for someone out there looking for a few pointers on submitting to literary journals. Here it is:

yo darren,

what's going on, man? great hearing from you. you know, my take on submitting to journals is deeply subjective + may only be true for me. but i have a series of conflicting hierarchies in terms of what i think is the most important when submitting to literary journals: first off, whenever possible, send your stuff to journals where editors actually read it. it may take longer, but if an actual editor will be reading your stories, i actually think you have a better chance of getting published because fiction readers tend to be bottom feeders in an aquarium, they tend to be passionate, opinionated + idealistic but also insecure, self-righteous, impatient and unpublished, which is a fucking terrible skill set for reading unsolicited manuscripts, especially when they're MFA students because usually, they're working on their own shit, worrying about workshop, trying to balance their lives + generally, reading for the literary journals isn't their job. sometimes, readers are a 100 times more obnoxious than the editors themselves. the problem is trying to figure out which journals have a front line of readers + which do not. basically: it's unavoidable, since almost every university-affiliated journals uses its MFA foot soldiers to screen incoming manuscripts, but i actually think that journals that exist outside of academia or that let editors take a crack are better, though their acceptance percentages are even smaller: journals like Slice, Crab Orchard Review, ZYZZYVA, N+1, for example, the editors read everything.

also, look at Santa Monica Review, which has a slant towards West Coast writers. Mcsweeney's is always worth a try + i've gotten good feedback from editors many times, which makes me feel like they're generally looking for material from the slush pile, which isn't always the case with journals like the Paris Review, New Yorker, et al.. i'd normally suggest staying away from TLR, Fence + the hudson review, because they take over a year to send you form rejections, at least in my experience. also, journals like glimmertrain are just one big contest. it's kinda fucked up actually. and in terms of journals where students DO police journals, i'd say, look at journals that have PhD students in CW reading because those readers are generally more mature, better published, chill + much more serious than MFA students, though there are many exceptions. for example, the missouri review is a great journal, so is quarterly west + SE Review + witness + 3rd Coast (all read by PhD students in CW).

one other thing, always send your mss. to the best journals first + then come back to reality with less ambitious journals, otherwise you'll wonder after a piece is accepted at a mid-tier journal if an better journal would have accepted it. stranger things have happened. don't worry about simultaneous submissions either because journals are so bad at getting back to you that by that time you've already received a rejection from another journal. you can always email a journal + tell them to remove your mss. from the docket + they will. it's less work for them. also, there are a couple great online journals too that you should consider. one is faultbetter, which usually publishes great shit consistently. narrative is also slick, but they charge $25 per submission, which is total bullshit. wait for their open submission month before submitting.

another thing, journals always receive less nonfiction than fiction, so consider sending the former. always google the editor's name whenever possible so you can include it in your cover letter (+ always write a CV--cover letter, not curriculum vitae). if you have any pub.'s, list them in your CV. if not, don't worry about it. don't shy away from online submissions either because many of the best journals now accept (or only accept) online submissions. by the way, most online submissions managers don't even show readers your cover letter unless they specifically click to see it, so don't worry about it (but still write one). this is obvious, but: make sure the first page is virtually flawless. i didn't think about this for years but that simple difference in revision can keep you in consideration after many other manuscripts get rejected.

lastly, expect to get rejected all the fucking time, often for no goddamn reason, or for the most random, subjective, personal, nit-picking, bullshit, platitudinous, captious, dumbass reasons imaginable, like, because the reader hates 3rd person limited, or because he can't stand coming-of-age narratives, or because she only likes coming-of-age narratives, or because they hate your politics, or your character's name or they believe stories shouldn't have adverbs, or because they've been brainwashed into believing that the only acceptable dialogue tags are he said/she said or because like me + you, they have way too many opinions on good writing, even though they haven't published shit, which they also resent. also consider that in a way, you are the readers's competition, so naturally, they're harsher on you. even the best readers aren't perfect, they have their own stylistic + technical biases. often they can't identify a great story unless it's so amazing it knocks them unconscious, but even that can be a problem because they'll resent you for bruising their pretty English major faces. when you have a sec., go to an indie bookstore, buy a copy of a few literary journals + skim through the rest + get a feel for the journal's aesthetic, it's layout, its politics + always read parallel pieces to see how/if your piece fits.

okay, i hope that helps. good luck man, fighting the good fight!

peace, blessings,

-j1b

Good Rejection from McSweeney's

2011-11-29T09:20:00.000-08:00

Hi Jackson Bliss --

Thanks for letting us read " . . . " We rely on stories like yours, since a good portion of what we publish comes to us unsolicited. Unfortunately, we can't find a place for this piece in our next few issues--but we liked it, so we hope you’ll continue submitting. If you do, please include the word “ . . . ” at the front of your subject line—that way, we’ll be sure to see it. We're always looking, so send us something anytime.

Thanks again,

C****** H****

Good Rejection from the Florida Review

2011-11-26T10:02:00.000-08:00

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you for your interest in The Florida Review and for the opportunity to read your work. While we found the flash pieces engaging, this submission doesn't fit our current needs. We encourage you to send more of your work in the future.

Sincerely,
Darlin' Neal
Fiction Editor

1st Story Accepted in 2011

2011-11-04T11:34:00.000-07:00

¡Yo, por fin! The drought is finally over. It's been a year and a half (actually, nineteen months) since my last story was accepted + I admit, there were many days where it looked really bleak, but fortunately for me, that drought is now officially OVER. Just a few minutes ago, I got an email from Hal Jaffe at Fiction International telling me that my conceptual story, "When Silence Is a Old Warehouse and Love is a Pocketful of Rocks" was accepted. The truth: I'm fucking ecstatic! FI has published some fucking dope literary luminaries such as William Burroughs, Robert Coover, Joyce Carol Oates, Allen Ginsberg, J.M. Coetzee + Bessie Head, just to name a few. Anyway, here is the acceptance letter:

Hello Mr Bliss,

Sorry it's taken a while to get back to you.

I like your text, "When Silence Is a Old Warehouse and Love is a Pocketful of Rocks" and would be pleased to publish it in FI's Ways of Seeing issue.

Please send an electronic version (word.doc) to my assistant M****** M***** and cc me.

Include a brief contributor's note and your home address.

Many thanks,

Hal Jaffe, editor

Good Rejection from AGNI

2011-11-04T11:28:00.000-07:00

Interesting and well-written, just not quite an Agni fit----many thanks for sending.

Eds.

______________________________

AGNI Magazine
Sven Birkerts, Editor
William Pierce, Senior Editor

Good Rejection from the Indiana Review

2011-10-21T16:53:00.000-07:00

Dear Jackson Bliss:

Thank you for sending these three shorts to Indiana Review. We really enjoyed them, particularly "Cabrón"—the voice is well honed and the story is compelling—but ultimately found them not right for IR at this time. Please take this short email as a note of encouragement to continue sending us work.

Best wishes,

R***** L***
Fiction Editor
Indiana Review

Even though I always appreciate editors taking the time to send me a good a response, I always wonder: If a story had such a well-honed voice + was so compelling, why don't you want the story? I mean, personally, if I thought a story had a well-honed voice + was compelling + I really enjoyed it, why the hell wouldn't I want to publish it? Did I lose out to the group vote? Did the IR receive other manuscripts where the voice was better honed and more compelling? Was it just a question of personal taste + style? Who the fuck really knows, man. I'm flattered, but I'm also pissed off.

Good Rejection from Fairy Tale Review #2

2011-10-17T10:20:00.001-07:00

Ugh, another good rejection. And while very gracious + kind, I think I may be done submitting stories to the Fairytale Review. I like the journal a lot (+ several of my friends have published stories in TFR), but so few of my own stories really fit the journal's aesthetic + I think I've run out of workable manuscripts. Too bad. Anyway, here's the rejection:

Hi Jackson,

I'm so sorry that I've taken so long to respond--unforgivable, truly.
I want--terribly badly, in fact--to craft a perfectly balanced issue
that everyone will love, but my response time has suffered from this
obsessive consideration, and I am finally having to make the hard
choices. I've read your fine story several times now.

Only by way of narrowing since there were sososososo many great
submissions, I chose a very specific aspect of my already very
specific theme to follow, otherwise I wouldn't have known how to
possibly choose just a few. I'm heartbroken to say that these didn't
turn out to be a perfect fit amidst the other pieces I chose. But this
issue will be just one (hopefully beautiful) specific arrangement made
from me selecting key symbolic threads (within my theme of lost
children, no less!) that we received within the submissions--that is
to say, please submit again!! I do hope you enjoy the issue, and that
you'll give us another chance. Please let me know when this story
finds a home elsewhere as well, so that I may celebrate with you and
enjoy it once more.

With admiration,

Alissa

Alissa Nutting
Guest Editor, The Grey Issue
Fairy Tale Review

Good Rejection from Ploughshares

2011-10-02T21:50:00.000-07:00

Normally I don't give a shit about form rejections, even when readers/editors press the good rejection button. But since it's Ploughshares, that kinda makes it more meaningful. And even though everyone knows you have to be a creative writing faculty member to publish your shit in that journal, still, for a few seconds, it almost felt good to read this:

Dear Jackson Bliss:

Thanks very much for submitting your work to Ploughshares. Although we regret that your manuscript does not fit our current editorial needs, we enjoyed it and hope you'll consider us again.

Sincerely,

The Editors of Ploughshares

2011-10-02 21:06:08 (GMT -4:00)

I'm a Lucky Man to Work with Aimee Bender

2011-09-07T13:40:00.000-07:00

Knowing that people drop thousands of dollars to attend the Tin House Writer's Conference in beautiful PDX in the summer + that a large Phish-like following of Aimee Bender fans follow her wherever she goes, especially when she hits Skylight books to strut her stuff in the most charming, self-effacing way an author can strut her stuff, I've realized three weeks into this fall semester that I'm one lucky motherfucker. Think about it: I get to send Aimee twenty pages from The Ninjas of My Greater Self every week + chat about it with her, while learning ways to improve chapters, sustain conflict, develop character chemistry + stoke tension, things I could always use more help with. Anyway, even though I have to read like a million novels in the next three months, teach + pound out the remaining five chapters of my novel, I have to say that I feel so goddamn fortunate to work with such a good critic, reader, fabulist, stylist, writer + editor as Aimee Bender. She's the real dope, not to mention a friend of mine too.

Good (Second) Rejection from Nat Sobel

2011-08-31T09:45:00.000-07:00

Dear Jackson,

Thank you for giving me a chance to consider ". . .". Again, I admire the energy and originality of your work, but I did not feel engaged enough by the story to want to read the balance when it is completed. I found the plotline to be overly episodic, and I think the novel needs more structure in order to hold the interest of readers. I appreciate that your voice is young and fresh, but I’m also concerned that there is a limited readership for the novel because it is so stylized.

All in all, I respect your talent but don’t feel we are the right agency to represent your work. In some ways, your writing reminds me of Junot Díaz. You might try querying his agent if you haven’t already, I believe her name is Nicole Aragi (though I don’t know her, she is very well respected). Good luck with everything.

Best,

A***

Sobel Weber Associates, Inc.

146 East 19th Street
New York, NY 10003
212-***-**** (phone)
212-***-**** (fax)

And here's the response I just sent her:

Dear A***,

Thanks for taking the time to read a partial of my near-finished novel. Since we will never work together, I guess I can be frank and come out and say that I'm sad and disappointed, but it's a business, so I'll do my best not to take it personally (though it's hard not to). Yes, I've certainly heard the Junot Diaz comparison before + I query Nicole Aragi annually but she only takes referrals. I will say, though, that I've never heard someone suggest that Junot Diaz, or a writer who has certain stylistic similarities to Junot Diaz, has a limited readership though. I haven't checked his Nielson bookscan stats in years, but I have this feeling that Junot Diaz's sales are probably very good. If I can achieve half the success that he has, I'd consider myself a prodigy. Since I am myself of mixed Asian ancestry (a quarter Japanese) but I don't look Asian (much like Hidashi), I feel that I have an awesome platform for ". . .", which, as Nat himself has pointed out, is becoming more + more necessary, even for fiction writers + I want to find an agency that will support my (future) career of writing Asian-American fiction with strong male characters that defy stereotypes of Asian masculinity while also challenging the cliché of minimalism in Asian-American literary fiction, which has become the norm. I know now that Sobel Weber Associates isn't the right literary agency for me but I thank you wholeheartedly for your honesty + your willingness to read partial of two of my novels. I wish you and Nat much future success. I also look forward to proving you wrong.

Affectionately + with Much Gratitude,

--Jackson Bliss

I've Reached the 400-Page Mark with My Second Novel, The Ninjas of My Greater Self!

2011-08-26T23:08:00.000-07:00

It's interesting: Originally, I felt like I wasn't as efficient as I wanted to be this summer. But after talking to friends + other classmates in my cohort + in my program at SC, I'm realizing that I actually had a really productive summer after all, even though it didn't feel like it.

The three basic things I did this summer were:

1. Spend 9 days in China

2. Knock Off 25 books from my three reading lists for field exams

3. Double the size of my novel, writing exactly 200 pages in The Ninjas of My Greater Self. When I'd finished up last semester, I was at page 200 + now I'm at page 400. Even better, based on my flexible outline, I only have 5 and 1/2 chapters left before I'm done with a definitive draft, which is fucking crazy considering I wasn't planning getting there until sometime next summer. Of course, anyone who knows my work ethic with my writing, knows that I could easily spend another six months just revising my second novel, over + over + over + over + over again, both local + global revisions. But that doesn't fucking matter, I'll be revising my novel while being able to say I've finished writing it (even though technically, revision is a type of writing).

Now that I'm teaching again + football season is about to bloom from its summer germination, I'm worried I won't have as much time as I'd like to, to read + write + revise. But still, 5 and 1/2 chapters, that's like 6 weeks, 8 at the most until I'm done, unless my flow gets cockblocked by grading papers or some other shit. Suddenly, I went from feeling like the marathon had just begun to being able to see the finish line. And I'm telling you, this novel is going to fucking be huge, man. It's going to launch my career, just you watch.

(Yet Another) Good Rejection from Slice Magazine

2011-08-23T08:36:00.000-07:00

Dear Jackson Bliss:

Thank you for sending us " . . . "

Unfortunately this particular piece was not a right fit for Slice Magazine, but we were very impressed by your writing. We hope that you will feel encouraged by this short note and send us something else during our next reading period.

We look forward to reading more.

Sincerely,

The Editors of Slice Magazine

2011-08-15 03:53:55 (GMT +1:00)

Good Rejection from the Antioch Review

2011-08-09T15:56:00.000-07:00

Jackson Bliss: Sorry for the delay. Though this piece is not for us, I would like to see another. Give my regards to Tom Boyle + Aimee Bender.

Regards,

B** F*******

Good Rejection + Open Door to Read More Material from Nat Sobel

2011-07-26T11:03:00.000-07:00

There's good news + there's bad news. Here's the bad news (though it comes with a decent rejection):

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you for sending us the first 50 pages of . . . , which Nat Sobel asked me to read. I have discussed your work with Nat prior to sending my response. I think that this is an innovative approach to a novel, and I enjoyed the setting you have chosen. However, I’m sorry to report that I have too many concerns to request the balance of the manuscript . . . I admire the energy and style of your prose, but at the same time there is a self-conscious quality that prevented me from being completely drawn into these pages.

Please know that my reading is a subjective one, and others may feel differently. Nat and I both think that you are a talented writer, and we hope that you are able to find a publisher through your current literary agent. While we don’t feel that BLANK is the right novel in which to launch your writing career, should things not work out with The Irene Goodman Literary Agency, we’d be happy to consider more of your work in the future.

Best of luck,

A*** W*****

And here's the good news: After I clarified to A*** W***** that that the Irene Goodman Literary Agency isn't, in fact, representing me at all (they'd actually sent me a rejection letter months ago that mysteriously never showed up in my inbox or spam folder, so I had to write them + ask them what's up--lame), then I asked her if I could send her a partial of what I'm working on now, The Ninjas of My Greater Self + she said hell yes. Okay, actually, she just said yes. But as many of you know, Ninjas is the best thing I've written yet. I'm 320 pages into this motherfucker + I'm telling you, it fucking rocks the joint. I have no doubt that I'll publish BLANK eventually--frankly, despite its various + sundry flaws, it's still a breathtaking novel that's ambitious, innovative, smart, compassionate, multicultural + kinetic. It deserves to--and will someday--be published in an excellent indie press that rewards ambition, vision + heterodoxy. But Ninjas is going to be the novel that helps me launch my career from an emerging unknown novelist to an up-and-coming novelist with national implications. That may sound arrogant, but it's not, man. It's just what's going to happen + I'm gonna work my ass off to make sure it does. Stay tuned. In a month, I'll have a better idea of what's going down.

(Almost) Good Rejection from Crazyhorse

2011-07-07T11:25:00.000-07:00

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you for sending your manuscript " . . . " number 30679, to us here at Crazyhorse via the online submission manager.

We are sorry this particular manuscript was not selected for publication in Crazyhorse. We hope you will send us another soon, though. We could not publish Crazyhorse without the fine writing submitted to us. While we regret that the large number of submissions we receive makes it difficult for the editors to respond personally, we want to emphasize that an editor personally read your manuscript. Devoted reading is part of the Crazyhorse editorial mission; it is also our own personal one.

Thank you for supporting the journal with your reading, writing, and subscribing,
The Editors

Short Story from A Travel Guide to the Broken World Published in Quarterly West

2011-07-06T18:03:00.001-07:00

Por fin!

My short story "30 Roofies" was recently (finally) published in the issue #70/71 Winter 2010/Spring 2011 issue of Quarterly West. If you want to read about forbidden, cross-cultural love, strong limeña women drugging clueless, rich tourists in Lima + falling in love with California surfer boys, then go out + get yourself a copy today of QW. My story is the one with acoustic Spanish guitar music playing in the background.

Good Rejection from Electric Literature

2011-06-30T15:34:00.000-07:00

Dear Jackson,

Thank you for submitting your story to Electric Literature. I apologize for the long wait and appreciate your patience. I very much enjoyed reading " . . . " though it was not chosen for publication in our journal. The way that the cryptic ransom notes came together at the end of the story was especially satisfying, and the prose was fresh and engaging.

We are committed to publishing short stories by both new and more established writers, and hope that you will consider sending us more of your work in the future.

Sincerely,

H*** M***,
Assistant Editor, Electric Literature

Good Rejection from the Georgia Review

2011-06-26T12:05:00.000-07:00

THE GEORGIA REVIEW

The University of Georgia
Athens, GA 30602-9009

Editor: Stephen Corey
Assistant Editors: Managing Editor:
David Ingle + Douglas Carlson Mindy Wilson

Although your manuscript engaged our attention
through several screenings, it was not ultimately
selected for publication. We thank you for letting
us consider this work, and we wish you the best
in placing it elsewhere.

sorry for the delay--caused by offic relocation

dc

Good Rejection from A Public Space

2011-06-26T12:01:00.000-07:00

Dear Jackson Bliss:

Thank you for thinking of A Public Space for your writing. We aren't the right magazine for this work, but we read it with care and interest, and we encourage you to send new work later this year.

To learn more about goings-on at A Public Space, please visit your local bookstore to find our latest issue, visit us online at www.apublicspace.org or join us on Twitter @apublicspace.

With very best wishes,
A Public Space

Solicited Manuscript from Construction

2011-06-22T13:58:00.000-07:00

I'm tempted by this email I got today to send David Plick, the editor, something, even though I generally shy away from online journals these days. Still, I'm flattered by the solicitation.

Dear Jackson Bliss,

You and I were published together in the last issue of Fiction (my piece was called, "The Right Words for a Eulogy"). Anyway, I read your story, "The Great Fall" and loved the energy--the language was alive, rhythmic, the narrative had a heartbeat, and I felt like I was taken somewhere. I used to tutor kids in Spanish Harlem and live in Washington Heights, but I always felt like an outsider. I wondered what it felt like to be a part of all that. I think it's an accomplishment to capture that world, and you did it not just with references, though they helped, but with the way you crafted your sentences and stayed close to Jean Boy's fascination with the whole thing.

I just launched the inaugural issue of my quarterly online magazine called Construction (we'll also do a "Best of" print edition annually) with a few peers from my MFA and would love it if you would submit something to us. Here's the site:

We're a cultural journal so we also publish interviews, political essays, book reviews, etc. If you have anything you're looking to place I'd love to take a look at it: a novel excerpt, memoir, or an essay, anything, please send it my way. The next issue would come out in late August/early September so if you could get me something in the next month or so that would be great.

Congrats on all your success. I hope to hear from you soon.

David Plick

Good Rejection from the New England Review

2011-06-16T16:45:00.000-07:00

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you for giving us the chance to read " . . . " We appreciate your interest in our magazine.

While in the end we have decided against publishing this piece in the New England Review, we thought the writing had merit, and we wish you the best in placing it elsewhere.

Sincerely,
The Editors
New England Review

Lou Matthews Writes Back

2011-06-15T16:00:00.000-07:00

If you know me, you know that one of my favorite stories back in the day was Lou Matthew's "Crazy Life," about a headstrong latina who falls in love with a cholo named Chuey, written with love, tenderness + strength. In fact, I loved this short story so much that I made my students read it in my workshop while I was working on my MFA at Notre Dame, + time + time again, this story was one of their favorites. Not only do I love the story, but I love the conceit of a white dude writing what is essentially a dissolved love story from the point of view of a smart, strong, low-income latina, something that critics/intellectuals would argue he can't/shouldn't do, but in this case, they'd be completely fucking wrong. Anyway, I was chatting with Aimee Bender before classes ended + I told her how important his story had been to me + she was like: Oh, you have to write him + tell him that. He'd really appreciate it.

So, she sent me his email address because Aimee knows practically everyone in the business, + a few days ago, Lou responded. This is what he said:

Hey Jackson,

Your e-mail was a great greeting for me on my return home. Thank you so much for your kind words on “Crazy Life.” That story has pretty much had a life of its own. It’s now been published about eight times and a young San Antonio film maker, Dora Peña made a short movie based on the story about four years back. Gets used a lot in L.A. Unified High Schools. One of my former students from UCLA used it in her Honors class at Long Beach Poly – a class composed of 16 young chicanas. Dorothy mentioned she’d had me as a teacher. They accepted, finally, the possibility that I might not be Chicano, but refused to believe I was a guy. I had to show up and talk to them. Interesting discussion. I describe that story as “involuntarily researched”, a phrase I stole from Carolyn Chute. It was where I grew up and who I grew up with – A place called Toonerville and I didn’t date an anglo girl until I was out of High School - Dulcie is based on a couple girlfriends from that era and Chuey on a whole lot of guys that I knew.

Glad to hear about your own experience writing from a Latina P.O.V. I find it immensely freeing, as I am sure Flaubert did, to put yourself in someone else’s high heels, and if it crosses cultural boundaries as well, so much the better. You can’t worry about identity politics – or as we used to say on my block, “The Fri-jolier than thou.” One of my other favorite stories, “The Garlic Eater”, is the story of a Korean grocer (That one I did have to research. Heavily) and I ended up feeling the same way about Mr. Kim as I did about Dulcie. I liked the time I spent in his head very much. I’m sending you an archive link for that one, from one of my favorite magazines. Failbetter. Love publishing on-line, doesn’t cost your friends anything to read you:

"The Garlic Eater"

Delighted to hear you are working with Aimee. She’s the real deal. You couldn’t be in better hands. Great writer but also an excellent human being. Please give her my love. I’ll be writing to her shortly. One of my former UCLA students is also teaching in your program, Dana Johnson. Introduce yourself if you don’t know her already. And if you see me at some literary gathering – I’ll be the fat guy with a beard older than you are – introduce yourself. I owe you a beer for making my day.

All my best,

Lou

The guy you met at the café, was Hafeez Lakhani, my PEN “Mentee” (such a strange word). Great guy, I’m really enjoying working with him. I’ll send you an invite to his final reading for PEN

My Second Solicited Email from a Literary Agent

2011-06-08T11:38:00.000-07:00

Yo, what a great way to start my day with this email:

Dear Jackson Bliss:

I very much admired your story, “The Great Fall,” in Fiction and thought that you might enjoy hearing from a fan of your work who is also an established literary agent. I don’t know if you are even at that point in your writing to start exploring representation, but this story made me feel that you have the talent to write a publishable book

If you’re at work on a novel, one of my colleagues in the agency or I would be pleased to read the opening chapters. We can tell, with a brief synopsis (1-2 pages), and around fifty pages, if we are engaged by the material. If so, we’ll encourage you to keep going. If not, we’ll explain why. These days, many editors never read further than the opening chapter or two of most novels before rejecting them. That’s how overloaded we all are with reading material. You must grab our attention, early on, either with plot or characters.

If you are assembling a short story collection, or undertaking a non-fiction book, visit our agency website (www.sobelweber.com) for our submission guidelines and suggestions. In the current market, publishers are unlikely to take on a short story collection unless the author can provide a novel to follow. If you do not have at least 50 pages of a novel ready, it’s worth waiting to put both book projects together, believe me. You may find our submission guidelines helpful whether we ultimately represent you or not. Or you may write us an email describing the book you are working on. We can then let you know, quickly, our response. Please indicate that I have read some of your work in that letter.

If you already have an agent, please excuse this approach, as our agency does not take on previously agented writers. If you are unagented and would like to discuss your writing before sending me anything, give us a call. The author/agent “chemistry” is vital in a long-term relationship. If you don’t have anything to send us at this time, hold onto this letter. My invitation to read more of your work is open-ended. Recently, we sold a first novel to Knopf by a writer I originally contacted ten years ago after reading his story in The Georgia Review.

Because we offer editorial work on all the projects we take on, at no additional fee to the writer, we do ask for one month exclusivity of your submission, but generally respond sooner. We do not send out form rejection letters on work submitted, but try to provide a fair evaluation of the work, including any editorial suggestions we may have.

Looking forward to reading more of your work.

Best wishes,
Nat Sobel

Sobel Weber Associates, Inc.
146 *** ********
New York, NY
212 ***-**** (phone)
212 ***-**** (fax)
www.sobelweber.com

A fan who is also a literary agent? How amazing is that shit? Now, the question is: Do I call him or do I send him an email or both?

Good Rejection from the Boston Review

2011-06-07T12:30:00.000-07:00

Dear Jackson Bliss:

Thank you for sending us " . . . "

Your essay is well-written and the story is touching, but after careful consideration, we have decided it is not what the Boston Review needs at this time.

We look forward to reading more.

Sincerely,

The Editors of Boston Review

Putting Myself Out There because I Have to

2011-06-04T02:05:00.000-07:00

Becoming an emerging writer is a Quixotic, blunt, heart-breaking delusion where art is actually more like head trauma than vocation. Personally, I recommend people stay away from the fallout as much as possible. Even so, I've got it bad for writing, so I'm a hopeless case. You may not be.

Anyway, I've proven this before, but like I said, I don't know how to fucking listen. Which is why I'm setting myself up for heartache again. It's how you put yourself out there, you enter contests + hope you come back with the biggest stuffed panda at the state carnival. Eventually someone does, why the fuck shouldn't it be you? Besides, I have to do this: This is how writers do: They put their asses on the line again and again for some whimsical, half-finished idea + you know, it's absolutely fucking worth it too, even with all of the drama, rejection + nausea. It's worth it. We have to write, we can't stop the dream, even when it's turned dark + beastly and demented and sore, it doesn't matter. We have to write + so we do. And when we've got something, eventually we decide it's time to find our audience, which is all publishing really is.

So I sent out some new full + partial manuscripts to a few great, indie presses in the East Coast + entered several contests too. I mean, if we're going to do this, then let's do it all the fucking way, no compromising, nothing half-assed, nothing guaranteed, the opposite of evasion, shyness + silence. Let's do this, the voice inside my head tells me.

Here are some recent book submissions:

1. The Ninjas of My Greater Self (James Jones First Novel Contest) 28 April 2011

2. A Travel Guide to the Broken World (Coffee House Press) 29 April 2011

3. A Travel Guide to the Broken World (Flannery O'Connor Award) 23 May 2011

4. BLANK excerpt (Beacon Press) 3 June 2011

5. A Travel Guide to the Broken World (FSG) 3 June 2011

6. A Travel Guide to the Broken World (Drue Heinz Literature Prize) 20 June 2011

7. A Travel Guide to the Broken World (Milkweed Editions) 5 July 2011

And of course I'm waiting to hear from Irene Goodman, the literary agent that solicited a whole manuscript of BLANK + the outline of Ninjas, I'm waiting to hear from Electric Literature for almost a year, waiting to hear from McSweeney's for 8 months, waiting to hear from the Paris Review, Black Warrior Review, Fence, waiting to hear from the Chicago Review for 13 months now (including 2 ignored emails I sent them), but I'm still going strong. I have absolutely nothing suggesting I'm going to win shit, nothing suggesting I'm gonna get a new piece published in a new journal anytime soon, but I'm good + I'm strong. Something is gonna work out, something is happening, if nothing else, momentum. If nothing else, some fucking momentum.

My Summer Schedule Fucking Rocks

2011-06-01T10:41:00.000-07:00

Now that I'm back from Beijing, it's time to get back to working on The Ninjas of My Greater Self + beginning my reading for my Field Exams--otherwise, how the fuck do I plan on reading 80 books by December? My awesome/exciting summer schedule by next week will be:

7:30 am-8 am: Wake up, check emails + glance at the Huffington Post

8 to 8:30ish: Do yoga/push-ups, meditate +/or crunches

8:30ish until 12:00 pm: Write the fuck out of my Ninjas

12:00 until 1ish: Eat lunch

1ish until 1:30ish: Walk the pooches

1:30ish until LB gets home: Read, read, read!*

6:30-7:30: Running

7:30-8:30: Yum!

8:30: More writing + revision, Xbox, watching Glee, Californication, Friday Night Lights + Buffy on Netflix, working on electronic LP, watching foreign flicks, making out with LB, reading FB, playing with the pooches + blogging!

*Except for Mondays or Friday, when I'll take weekly field trips to the post office to sent manuscripts to Granta, FSG, Milkweed et al(l the usual suspects).

LA Times Festival of Books = Awesome

2011-05-10T13:55:00.000-07:00

These past two weeks have been a blurry, pretty little mess of everything: Grading final portfolios, writing my final paper on Joan Didion for my Post-Western Representation class, waking up early on Saturday morning to go to the LA Times Festival of Books where I bought the new McSweeney's + Granta, attended a forum on literary journals with the editors of a Public Space, Granta, Black Clock + saw Tom read his short story, "The Lie." I also celebrated my--gasp!--37th birthday + went to Santa Monica with LB where we loitered around and smelled the Ocean air + bought a couple things for our upcoming trip to Beijing.

Here are a few highlights:

Gogo! Doing Yoga with his Daddy

LB's Genius for Gift-Wrapping

B-Day Vegan Cupcakes

Tomorrow! Tomorrow!

Proof that Part of America Still Reads Books

The Entrance to Bibliphilia

LB Magnetically Attracted to the Kinokuniya Kiosk

Where Cute Plastic Things Come to Be Reborn

Makes Me Dizzy

Tom Representing at the Bing Theater

Listening to the Enemy: Literary Journal Editors from Granta, A Public Space + Black Clock Tell You Why They Just Want a Good Story Even Though almost All of the Shit They Publish is Agented Fiction

The Endangered Species: Homo Literarius

Good Rejection from Graywolf Press (Yet Again)

2011-04-25T22:52:00.000-07:00

Sad times at Ridgemont High, my friends. In the middle of my last workshop with Aimee + probably my last workshop ever--tragic irony sucks!--I scanned my emails, only to discover this rejection which kinda breaks my heart. I fucking love Graywolf Press + I felt very strongly that my collection of short stories would appeal to them because the language is beautiful, the collection is international in scope (Peru, Argentina, Burkina Faso, America, Canada, Japan, Mexico), deals with legitimate social and cultural issues, uses strong, spunky + smart female characters, creates art that is greater than just art for art's sake + most importantly, offers a series of cultural narratives that haven't been written yet, or at least not overwritten in any meaningful way. Saying nothing of the fact that I've either lived in those countries as a Peace Corps volunteer + English teacher or I've visited them + that I've already published many of these stories in good literary journals. And yet, none of that shit matters.

I'm totally bummed, frustrated, a potential victim of pigeonholing? Would my collection have been more seriously considered if every story was about China? Or written from an African point of view? Is my collection too all over the globe? Do you know how many collections of short stories I've read in the past 10 years that don't have a thematic thread at all? Why does Nam Le get to write stories in Iowa, Colombia, Japan, Vietnam? Granted, he's probably a better short story writer than I am, but I still honestly feel like the stories in my first collection give the readers a beautiful, powerful, touching piece of the world that hasn't been written enough, or at all. For example, how many short stories have you read that take place in Burkina Faso? Or that follow the story of a letter traveling from West Africa to California? Or that deal with race + class in SoCal? Or that are about a Peruvian pepera who falls in love with a tourist she drugged? A hipster who falls in love with a hallucination in Buenos Aires? An obscure fiction writer whose greatest fan is a porn star? Two strangers who meet with the help of their love beepers in Tokyo? A girl who falls in love with a painting in the Art Institute of Chicago? Two teenage basketball players in Kansas who fall in love? A nerd who gets his revenge by inventing a paint bomb that covers his attackers in paint? A woman who cheats on her husband with the female tango instructor in Argentina? An insurrection of teenagers that loot Muncie?

I'm not pretending my stories are technically perfect, because they're not perfect. But on many levels, they are unique. They're touching, powerful, beautiful, slightly off-beat stories about the human condition, + I hoped that a press like Graywolf would want to publish something fresh, socially-conscious + international like this. But they didn't. And now I'm bummed.

Anyway, here's the gracious letter:

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you very much for submitting " . . . " to Graywolf Press.

There's a lot to enjoy here in terms of the diversity and range of the stories, and we felt like you inhabited these characters well--you made their voices your own. I'm afraid that we did feel that stylistically there were several stories that seemed a bit out of place, such as " . . ." or " . . . " Despite the strength of some of the work here, it didn't feel cohesive enough as a collection. So we've decided against this.

Sorry to disappoint, but you've done some good work, which deserves recognition. Thanks for thinking of Graywolf, and best of luck in finding a good home for this elsewhere.

With best wishes,

The Editors
Graywolf Press

And my response:

naive question, but is removing those two stories too cosmetic to resolve the lack of cohesiveness? just curious.

okay, well, since i'm not expecting a response back since i know you have many submissions to deal with, thank you graywolf press. you're a kickass press + it would have been great to work with you. i just wish i had more books to submit to you, but sadly i don't.

peace, blessings, thanks,

--jackson bliss

Anyway, as much as I admire you Graywolf Press--+ I do, I really do--you had your chance to publish something by Jackson Bliss before I became big + famous + now you've lost your chance forever. It's time we parted ways. But of course now I sound like the dude who says I quit after he's already been fired, which of course, is exactly what happened. My consolation: I get the last word.

Good Birthday

2011-04-20T14:29:00.001-07:00

You know you're having a good birthday when:

1. The sun appears out of the gloom, rescuing the day from the grey, casting warm, soft, beautiful light your way

2. You get 50 greetings on facebook, two of which are from your newly discovered Japanese cousins you've been searching for for over 10 years

3. Robert Olen Butler personally wishes you a happy birthday

4. Maxine Hong Kingston sends you a private FB message + tells you she hopes to see you at the LA Times Festival of Books

Life is good.

It's Way Too Fucking Quiet around Here

2011-04-14T22:31:00.001-07:00

When I'm not listening to the ubiquitous sound of helicopters in LA, hounding after escaped convicts and armed cholos running off with grandma's jewelry, I have moments like these about my writing career: This is the sound of absolutely nothing, which scares the shit out me. I haven't heard from a single journal, agent or publisher in like weeks, which only means one thing: It's about to get loud + nasty + fucked up soon. I'm cringing just thinking about the barrage of rejections. There's a giant shadow blocking the sun, hoovering over my head somewhere in outer space, ready anytime now, in an instant, to crash down to earth like a kaput satellite that arrives half-incinerated, a clunky piece of yesterday about to crush me under the California sun.

Nicole Aragi('s Assistant) Writes Back

2011-04-08T21:56:00.000-07:00

Dear Jackson,

I’m sorry to say Nicole is not taking on new clients at the moment.
All best,

-Christie Hauser
Aragi Inc.

Good (Standard) Rejection from Harper's That Feels Special (even though it's Not)

2011-04-03T15:56:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I received the following rejection letter from Harper's Magazine in the mail + though it's their standard rejection letter, the fact that they typed my name up + signed the letter makes me special, even though I'm clearly not. Still, considering Harper's publishes one unsolicited short story a year, I knew my odds going in. On the other hand, I'll gladly be in the company of other rejected writers also sending Harper's Magazine material considered truly impressive and such good work. At least I'm in good company. See, I'm that kind of writer: Devoutly idealistic, ambitious, intrepid, unafraid to take a risk, delusional, the kind of writer that doesn't know how to take no for an answer. And someday, that's why I'm gonna publish my shit.

HARPER'S
MAGAZINE
_____________________________________________________________

March 29, 2011

Dear Mr. Bliss,

Many thanks for sending your story to Harper's Magazine. I'm sorry to say that it's not quite right for us. Please do bear in mind that we publish only twelve stories each year, + receive hundreds of submissions, many of them truly impressive works of fiction, for those spots. Turning away so much good work is a frustrating task for any editor--it is, also, alas, unavoidable.

We wish you the best of luck in placing the story elsewhere, + thank you once again for thinking of us.

All best,

James Marcus
Deputy Editor

German Novelist Patrick Findeis Gives Props to The Ninjas of My Greater Self

2011-03-29T22:45:00.000-07:00

Yesterday in workshop we had several visitors, one of whom was Patrick Findeis, a visting German novelist staying at Villa Aurora as a Winter Quarter Fellow whose debut novel, Kein Schöner Land (No Land More Lovely), has been making headlines. Aimee was kind enough to forward me Findeis's flattering words about the excerpt of Ninjas he read last night, which is included down below. Cool, man. At least I know that one German will buy my book when it comes out. Danke!

Hi Aimee,

good to meet you too!
I really enjoyed the class, the level was very high and the writing strong.
I read the excerpt from Jackson's book in the evening and I think it's great. The little I heard of the first story made a big impression on me as well.

Take care,
Patrick

Freedom + Hope: My Last Workshop + Sending a Query to Sandra Dijkstra

2011-03-28T22:02:00.000-07:00

1. While I still have five more weeks of this semester, I'm officially done getting my shit workshopped forever! What an amazing feeling: Ah, the tangy taste of freedom! No, it's true, I'll be doing a private writing class with Aimee next semester, but that'll be one-on-one, the very opposite of workshop, in fact. Talking with Aimee is sort of like talking with a very insightful friend of yours who carries a pair of sheers with her wherever she goes + who is also way better published than you are. Not only do I not mind this private writing class next semester, I'm actually looking forward to it because it will force me--structurally, speaking--to keep working on The Ninjas of My Greater Self as I prepare for fields, which will be fun but also crazy stressful too. And while my workshops at SC were a 100 times more helpful for me than the pissing contests/genealogy of morals gang-bang I used to go through at Notre Dame, at the same time, I think I've plateaued with workshop just in general. I know what my strengths + weaknesses are as a writer. Now, it's really just about creating work that is its best version of itself. Through workshop + other venues, I've become very aware of what I do well + where I need help. So, thanks workshop. But now I'm gonna peace out.

2. I just sent Sandra Dijkstra a 25-page sampler of BLANK with a query letter. Hopefully she'll be intrigued enough that she'll want to read the entire manuscript. Based on her client list, I think she'll appreciate the strong, smart, independent female characters, the multicultural crew, the ambitious + intersecting plotline + above all else, the novel's return to history + culture, the love of language + the joy of storytelling in BLANK. But if for some--tragic--reason she rejects BLANK, I'm still planning on asking her if she'd like to see $67 for My Favorite Dictator, my collection of short stories +/or whether she'd be interested in reading Ninjas once it's finally done--whenever that is.

Talking Field Exam Reading Lists + Agent Referrals with TC Boyle

2011-03-25T14:57:00.000-07:00

Since he's my thesis adviser + also a former teacher of mine, TC Boyle told me to stop by his office soon after the recommendation snafu to talk about my Post WWII reading list for fields. I also wanted to talk to him about getting a referral to Sandra Dijkstra. Stop on by, he emailed. After teaching, that's exactly what I did, a slight spring in my step. Must be the sunshine.

1. Field Exams

When I walked into his office, the dude looked fucking exhausted.

I shook his hand + said: —You look fucking exhausted.
—I am, he said, leaning his head back.
—I saw you on Bill Maher's Real Time.
—Oh yeah?
I nodded. —Yeah, it's the only time I've seen you in a group of people where you're not talking the whole time.
We both laughed.
—I don't like dealing with talking heads.
After chatting a little more, I handed him my proposed reading list for the field exam I'll be doing with him, post WWII literature. He read the list + nodded: —Well, this looks great.
—I'm not sure what critical connections I'll make yet, but once I've read 1/4 to 1/2 of them, I'm sure I'l see them.
—Well, I've read almost every book here.
—I haven't a read single book on that list. That's why I picked'em.
He looked up.
—I thought it would be a perfect excuse to read a bunch of books I've always wanted to read but haven't.
—That's brilliant.

2. Sandra Dijkstra

Once we'd finished figuring out the details for my reading list, I paused, turned to Tom + said: —So can we talk about Sandra Dijkstra?
—Sure. It's time to get you an agent so you can get your books published. What's up?
—Well, I'm still waiting to hear from the Irene Goodman Literary Agency but I'm getting antsy + I don't want to wait anymore, so I wondered whether you might give me a referral.
—Of course. I told you I'd be happy to.
—I took a look at her client list + it's pretty rad.*
—Well, I already talked you up to her.
—Awesome.
—Okay, how about this? I'll write her a letter right now. When will you send her a manuscript?
—Tomorrow.
—Great. Okay, are you going to send her Ninjas?
—I'm not sure. I kinda want her to take a look at BLANK before I send her Ninjas. But I haven't decided yet.
—Okay, well, he said, pulling out a piece of SC stationery + scribbling a note to Sandra Dijkstra, I'll send this today, should get to her by tomorrow + you'll send your manuscript to her tomorrow + a short letter mentioning some of her clients you admire. . .
—Okay, great.

I'm not sure what's going to happen with any of this + I haven't closed the door to the Irene Goodman Literary Agency at all, but a little competition won't hurt anyone. Besides, from reading literary agent blogs, I get the very strong impression that agents are naturally fierce with each other + accept competition because they have to (it's part of the industry), even embracing it sometimes. So we'll see what happens. Even so, I'm flattered that Tom actually talked me up to such a big agent. That shit is flattering.

Now, back to The Ninjas of My Greater Self

*Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, Lisa See, Susan Faludi, Maxine Hong Kingston, Amy Tan

Good Rejection from the Missouri Review

2011-03-23T15:18:00.000-07:00

Though I was told that my story is too dreamy (the opposite of real) + the narrative voice is somewhat off-putting (which I don't get), nevertheless, this was a good rejection from the Missouri Review + is a nice way to end my relationship with the journal since I'm not planning on sending them anymore shit. See this entry to find out why.

Dear Jackson,

I've been asked by our editor, Speer Morgan, to notify you in regards to your submission " . . . " Though it was read and enjoyed by several editors, in the end, we've decided to pass on it. Specifically, we found the narrative voice somewhat off-putting, and though there is some very nice writing in the piece, the story somehow never quite felt real. Thank you so much for your interest in our magazine, and please submit again.

Best,

Owen Neace
Office Assistant
The Missouri Review
----------
Please enter our spring contest: The 4th Annual Audio Competition—four categories, each with a $1,000 prize, and publication on our website.
Postmark deadline: March 15th, 2011

The Flipside of Rejection

2011-03-18T23:25:00.000-07:00

On the flipside: My wife + I are going to Beijing in May, which is going to be fucking dope. And I'll have the entire summer to work on my novel + read the shit out of my Asian-American/Pacific Rim reading list for fields. And recently I found out I won the Ace/Nikaido Fellowship, giving me just enough money to spend some time in Japan sometime this year (probably December) to study cosplay subculture. So, some things have worked out really good, even if I didn't end up scoring a goddamn artist residency!

I'm Kinda Pissed Off: No MacDowell Colony Residency (Yet Again)

2011-03-18T22:26:00.000-07:00

I looked in my mailbox today + this was the letter waiting for me:

March 14, 2011

Mr Jackson Bliss
3*** ************ St.
Apt # 909
Los Angeles, CA 9*****

Dear Jackson,

We regret that we are not able to offer you a residency during this coming Summer 2011 period. Your work was appreciated by the admissions panel members, but the number of excellent applications has grown as has the competition for residencies.

We hope that this news will not discourage you from applying to the Colony again after one year's time.

In the meantime, we send you our best wishes.

Sincerely,

Cheryl A. Young
Executive Director

The first time I was rejected by the MacDowell Colony in 2007, I was bummed. This time, I was pissed. I actually punched the envelope + then threw it against the windshield + screamed. My wife was delighted with my reaction: --The Latino in you is coming out! she said, a look of ecstasy painted across her face.

When I applied for a MacDowell Colony residency in 2007, I was fresh out of Notre Dame with my MFA, I hadn't published a single story in a print literary journal yet, my writing sample was extremely conceptual (but not necessarily tight), I had two rec's from writers that I admire very much but that very possibly the writing committee at the MC hadn't heard of + my application was written in marker. I was very green, to say the least. This time, I submitted a writing sample from The Ninjas of My Great Self that both Georges Borchardt, agent extraordinaire + TC Boyle, the rock star, absolutely loved, I had two recommendations, one from TC Boyle + one from Aimee Bender + I have an actual publication history + I'm halfway done with my second novel. After all that, I still got fucking rejected.

I realize that:

1. Summer is the most competitive season for residencies at MacDowell
2. The MacDowell Colony accepts artists in every medium, so I'm not just competing with other writers + poets, but other composers, sculptors, artists, comedians, architects, maybe a blind-folded grandmaster chess whiz too

And maybe on some deeper level, my ego is really bruised by all the rejection. But on another level, a part of me, a big part of me, feels like I'm exactly the kind of artist that residencies like MacDowell are looking for: I get along really well with people, I'm extremely ambitious, talented + driven, I'm accessible, slightly strange + chatty (both intro + extrovert), I speak multiple foreign languages, am intensely musical--meaning I'd get along well with other artists + musicians. At the same time, I have an insanely good work ethic + I'm a devoted, diligent, ambitious fiction writer, I'm 1/2 done with my project, I know exactly what I want to get done + just as importantly, I know exactly what I want to do with my time. I just don't fucking understand.

Anyway, the moral of the story for me is: Next year, I'm applying for the Winter Session at the MacDowell Colony + I'm also going to apply for a Yaddo fellowship too. Might as well increase my chances.

My Annual Query Letter to Nicole Aragi

2011-03-16T23:20:00.000-07:00

Like for X-mas, anniversaries, passover + the birthdays of uncles, I like to send Nicole Aragi a little thank-you note every year to honor + commemorate the blossoming of our future agent-writer relationship that I know we'll have someday when I'm famous + she's just a little richer because of me.

Okay, that's wishful thinking. Actually, almost every year, I like to send an unsolicited query letter to Nicole Aragi hoping that I've found the perfect window in which she's looking for just one more client that hasn't landed on her desk yet from an editor, agent or writer referral. I have no chance of codebreaking Nicole Aragi's window, I get it! But, considering what a superagent Nicole Aragi actually is + what she has done (continues to do) for the writing careers of her clients (don't even make me drop the list again), I have to fucking try anyway. So that's what I did:

Dear Lisa Smith,

Instead of sending you my annual query letter, I'm trying another approach: Is there any chance that Nicole Aragi is looking to take on a new client in 2011? If so, may I send you my query letter?

Peace, Blessings,

-Jackson Bliss

I realize my email is unorthodox + kinda curt, but I don't mean it rudely at all. I'm just trying to save Lisa Smith + Nicole Aragi time. If Nicole Aragi has already found her two new clients for the year between January + March of 2011 + she's sincerely not looking for another client until next year, then why waste their time? While I'm a hardworking writer with a crazy work ethic, an insane amount of ambition + talent to burn, I'm not a sadistic motherfucker by any stretch of the imagination. I'll never force myself on any agent, but I will try persuading a few to give me a chance. Worst case scenario (almost guaranteed scenario): Nothing happens + I'm right where I was before I sent that damn email. I can live with that.

My New Strategy for 2011

2011-03-14T02:40:00.000-07:00

I sent out 103 manuscripts to journals in 2010 + I only have one acceptance so far + only 8 manuscripts left in that cycle. I'm not saying it's not worth it to send your shit out there because you kinda have to if you want to get published + since literary agents read literary journals, it's kind of a necessary evil. But now that I know what I know about 2010, I feel like I wasted an incredible amount of time that I could have spent writing. So, my new strategy for 2011 is simple:

1. Write the shit out of The Ninjas of My Greater Self, since that seems to be the book that's getting the most attention for me right now, making it all the more important that I finish it.

2. Send submissions to only the journals that are essentially game-changers, meaning:

The Paris Review
The New Yorker
The Atlantic
Conjunctions
Zoetrope
Tin House
A Public Space
Esquire
N+1
Granta
Southern Review
Black Clock

Now, granted, these are some of the most prestigious journals in the business + will increase my rejection rate from 99% to 99.9%, but I think that's okay because I don't mind being rejected from the glossies/gatekeepers. In fact, though it's unfair, I kinda expect that. With small MFA-affiliated journals, however, I don't expect that kind of rejection, which is a huge mistake since the average fiction reader is a white, 20-something MFA student, often male, highly opinionated, unpublished, insecure, technically competent, idealistic + overworked writer who wants to be the next great American writer. When it comes down to it, fiction readers in MFA programs don't really want to read your shit. They think they do before they get recruited to read for a literary journal, but after two months, it takes up too much time that they need to work on their own shit, not to mention all the crap that's getting dumped on their lap in workshop. In the context of MFA programs + reading for literary journals, rejection--whether it's deserved or not--becomes the most effective way to get back to your own writing, sad to say. Also, with that extra .9%, I will feel like I'm really fighting for a dream since getting picked up in any one of the above journals will change your writing career in some way. Not so with most of the very good + very small literary journals peppered all across America. Lastly, lots of major writers have found their agents or started their career with the following journals. If it sounds like I'm vaguely giving up the prospect of publishing new stories in journals, I actually am. I won't stop fighting, but I will stop expecting it to work out + focus more on my writing, which is the only thing I used to care about when I first started writing.

In the meantime, I'm gonna spend less time mailing out stories to journals my parents have never heard of and more time working on my second novel, which is probably where my literary career begins anyway. And if I'm wrong + one of the above journals picks up one of my stories, all the better, but I'm definitely not expecting that, at least not without an agent.

Someday I'll Cry

2011-03-10T02:01:00.000-08:00

When I finally get my first book published, when I finally see my first book in print, when my family finally reads a complete book of mine, when my friends can go + buy my books at their local bookstore (or at least fucking order them), when I have something to actually post in a perfectly legit Wikipedia article, the truth is, I'm going to cry my fucking eyes out because this industry can be so brutal + so inpenetrable. Trying to make it as a literary novelist is by far the hardest, most difficult + most excruciatingly drawn-out thing I've ever done in my entire life. It can break your heart, inhale your soul + weigh on you like a broken limb. It can beat you down, keep you frozen in time + elude you like a specter. There are no promises in publishing. Nothing guarantees anything, not hard work, connections, schmoozing, the right MFA program, the right contacts--nothing is anything until it's everything.

For all of these reasons, once I finally get the call (or the letter), I'm going to do the same shit I did when I got into USC, I'm going to gulp really hard, take a moment to let reality seep into my pores, I'm gonna look around the room for signs of the dreamworld + then I'm going to cry my fucking eyes out because it's tough being a writer in the digital era, especially when people have become immune to literary fiction + the publishing industry no longer protects + promotes art the way it once did. On that inevitable day when I finally break through the surface, I'm gonna cry my fucking eyes out because writing is my fuel, writing is my grotto, the one perfect prayer in my heart, the one perfect orphan that I love completely + entirely, the one ripple in time where my voice is unique, beautiful + resonant. Like love + mirrors, travel + ecstasy, there are no limits in writing whatsoever except for the million different ways we close our eyes to the world. For me, writing has always been the first maze, the second kiss + the last drawing.

(Yet Another) Good Rejection from Witness

2011-03-08T23:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you for giving us the opportunity to consider "...." Our readers admired many elements of the work, but we've decided that the manuscript isn't right for us. We wish you success in placing it elsewhere.

Sincerely,

The editors

Somehow, my science fiction(y)/literary short story about a giant asteroid that is heading towards Earth is not disastrous enough for Witness's disaster-themed issue. Now what?

Maybe they're just being assholes, maybe asteroids are too disastrous or maybe I'm being too goddamn literal. Who the fuck knows?

Guess I'll just send them another story + see what happens.

I Miss You, Second Novel

2011-03-01T22:20:00.001-08:00

When you're a PhD student, you have to read a lot of books. Most of the time, that's awesome because the shit you have to read is fucking awesome. To give you an idea of how nerdy I can be, I'm actually looking forward to my field exams next year because that means I'll get to read 70 books of the awesomest books in the whole wide world, books I've always wanted to read, from Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections + Lan Samantha Chan's Hunger to Robert Olen Butler's Scent from a Strange Mountain, among other standouts. But that said, there are things I miss (like weekends), + one of those things is, I really miss my second novel, Ninjas of My Greater Self.

Anyway, second novel, I'm looking forward to another date soon. I miss you like crazy. I really really need to hear your voice + remember what's it's like to be in your world again.

Irritating Rejection from TLR

2011-02-21T18:39:00.000-08:00

I almost never take rejections personally, no matter how much an editor ignores/praises me. Either way, it's a subjective business. The one thing that does piss me off, is when a journal makes me wait a year for nothing. You can send me a form rejection after a week + I'll laugh out loud. You can send me a form rejection after three months + I'll nod. You can send me a form rejection after six months + I won't flinch. You can also send me a personalized rejection at any point between one week + one year + obviously, I won't get angry either. Disappointed + probably mopey, but never angry. But when you make me wait a year for absolutely nothing--The Literary Journal, I'm talking to you--that pisses me off for a bunch of reasons:

1. The New Yorker + Esquire now only make unknown writers wait for 3-6 months before they find out they still need an agent (+ those journals get at least 24,000 fiction submissions a year, probably more)

2. The Paris Review will send you something usually in the same time-frame with fewer submissions + fewer readers

3. If you're a small, non-glossy, non-glitzy, university or MFA-affiliated literary journal + it's taking you a year to send people form rejections, then you're not dealing with your slushpile effectively at all. Either you don't have enough readers or the managing editor isn't doing her/his job of splitting up the manuscripts or the journal has moved locations (in all three cases, just keep the submission manager offline until you're ready to actually read shit).

I've been a fiction reader for literary journals before + I know this. If your editor in chief misplaces manuscripts, oh, say, in an attic for a year, that's another story. But with online submission managers, stories don't become refugees the way they used to.

Okay, in summary:

The glossies are getting to manuscripts faster than a lot of these small literary journals + they have 20 times as many submissions each month + often not that many more readers. Of course they also have unpaid internships + $$. On the flipside, most MFA students have no desire to read from the slushpile after the buzz has worn off + they start to realize that they have stories to workshop in two weeks + a pile of short stories to (not) read. In any case, I don't give a shit: it's still obnoxious to send responses a year after a submission was sent unless that manuscript made the final round but then was rejected, in which case, it's still kinda obnoxious but the good rejection makes the obnoxiousness kinda go away even though it's also really heart-breaking + feels oh so fucking close.

For all the above reasons, even though I've admired a few of the stories in TLR (specifically, Heidi Durrow's piece), I'm gonna peace out of all future TLR submissions. I just don't have another year of my life to waste + I'm not convinced the wait is worth it. At least when the New Yorker makes you wait a long time--it happens--the rejection hurts less because with your next submission, you still get a smaller-than-life chance to do the impossible + publish one of your stories in the motherfucking New Yorker, which would change your writing career forever.

New Yorker Form Rejection that almost Doesn't Feel Like a Form Rejection but Clearly Is

2011-02-16T16:35:00.000-08:00

Hallo,

We're sorry to say that this manuscript is not right for us, in spite of its evident merit. Unfortunately, we are receiving so many submissions that it is impossible for us to reply more specifically. We thank you for the chance to consider your work.

The Editors

Let's Get This Party Started!

2011-02-14T23:44:00.000-08:00

Another year, another dream. Another year of fresh hope + another year of trickling rejections (most of them by trigger-happy fiction readers purging the slush pile of a million stories uploaded on some type of online submission manager). But that's okay. You have to risk rejection everyday to get published + live like a writer, so I finally got out my first round of submissions today for 2011 to the following journals:

N+1
American Short Fiction
Threepenny Review
The Missouri Review
Story Quarterly
Crazyhorse
9th Letter
Quarter after Eight
Sentence
Prairie Schooner
Crab Orchard Review
Salt Hill
New Letters
Playboy Fiction Contest
Santa Monica Review
Conjunctions
Granta
The Atlantic
Michigan Quarterly Review
Georgia Review
Zoetrope
Harvard Review
A Public Space
The New Yorker
Subtropics
Harper's
MAKE

What are the odds of any fiction writer publishing in those journals? Oh, slim to none. And we all know that the glossier you get, the harder it is. But like I give a shit, man. You've got to put yourself out there as much and as often as you can tolerate it. Someday, the same assholes that reject you will be quoting your ass, pretending they saw your talent all along. But the crazy thing is, a few of those readers were right about you from the beginning, so you work your ass off to defy the odds + find them the way they found you.

Limbo: Where Fiction Writers Sleep

2011-02-09T00:27:00.000-08:00

About the only thing I know right now is that I've been waiting in a state of perpetual limbo for awhile now + it just doesn't go away man, not even after a long nap. By waiting in a state of perpetual limbo, I mean:

1. I'm waiting to hear from Graywolf Press + Algonquin about $67 for My Fave Dictator + BLANK

2. I'm waiting to hear from the Irene Goodman Literary Agency about BLANK

3. I'm waiting to hear from 20 journals I submitted stories to in the past year, some of which I sent a year ago--you know who you are, TLR!

4. I'm waiting to have more free time to start working on The Ninjas of My Greater Self again after getting sidetracked by essays I had (still have to finish) grading, an oral presentation on Joan Didion + kicking it with LB's sister Fia, where I relived all of my touristy moments in LA for the 100th time

5. I'm waiting to have more free time to start sending out new submissions for 2011, after which point, I will begin waiting and living in a state of perpetual limbo all over again

6. I'm waiting to hear from the Macdowell Colony about a summer residency I applied for

7. I'm waiting to hear from the East Asian Studies Center at SC to see if I was awarded a partial/full grant to travel to Tokyo/Osaka this summer to study cosplayer subculture

8. I'll soon be waiting to hear from the English Department at SC to see if I was lucky enough to score one of their endowed fellowships, which would mean no teaching composition next year! Can't you even imagine that?

9. I'm waiting to hear from the universe pretty much all the fucking time, sister

10. I'm waiting for Black Clock's submission window to open again

Good Rejection from Fairy Tale Review

2011-01-29T11:37:00.000-08:00

Dear Jackson,

I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we've ultimately decided not to include "..." in the Fairy Tale Review, though I did consider it very seriously and admire its many fine qualities. Due to the fact that we only publish one issue a year, we find ourselves rejecting far more than we'd like to. Your story will find a place, I'm certain. And thank you so much for submitting, and for your exploration of the fairy tale tradition. (And I apologize for the time it has taken for me to reach my decisions. We’ve had an overwhelming number of excellent submissions for this issue.)

Best wishes,

Timothy Schaffert
Guest-editor, the Brown Issue, Fairy Tale Review

I'm in a Dry Spell Y'all

2011-01-27T10:15:00.000-08:00

These exclamation points don't conform to my own personal trajectory. They really fuck with my mind + make me feel like shit, but at the same time, they are also part of my learning curve, and therefore, part of my resistance, my defiance + my determination to be a great American novelist:

1. I haven't gotten a story accepted since last April, which is close to 10 months!

2. I'm still waiting for my first short story to get accepted from 2010. In other words, while I "30 Roofies" was accepted by Quarterly West in April of 2010, I submitted that story in 2009! To this day, I haven't gotten a single story accepted thus far that I submitted in 2010 + I submitted a 103 manuscripts! Even more fucked up, I only have 19 manuscripts left, which includes one agent, one publisher + a bunch of literary journals. Statistically, that's pretty fucking grim!

3. Part of the reason I'd love to have an agent, is because I'd love to stop submitting manuscripts to journals. It takes too much time away from my writing + time is already scarce enough commodity as a grad student!

4. I remember a conversation I had with Aimee + she said that most of the time, a dry spell occurs right after a string of acceptances + I'm starting to think she's on to something. I know I can't expect les bon temps rouler forever. After ZYZZYVA, finally getting my copy of the African American Review, + then Fiction, The Loudest Voice + Quarterly West, that shit can't go on forever. I know. I know. I know. But after seeing all of that momentum since 2009, it's really hard to let it go + even harder to start the momentum over again. I almost feel like after I get my next story picked up--inshallah--I'll get a couple more within a couple of months after that. But maybe I'm being too goddamn optimistic again!

5. In the big scheme of things, really, this dry spell forces me to realize how far I still have to go in my own writing career. By that I mean that while I'm happy/honored to publish novel chapters + stories in good literary journals, I never write fiction for the sole purpose of publishing it in literary journals, that's just a means to an end to get my name out there, to work with editors, to connect with readers, maybe some day find an agent + ultimately get my novels published + into people's hands. There's a lot of room for humility here too (though I think humility is an overrated quality, artistically speaking) but just as much for determination. I will get my shit out there someday + the almost 100 rejections I've gotten this year only make me more determined to publish BLANK + $67 for My Favorite Dictator + finish Ninjas too. Don't know how, but I'm gonna make it happen!

6. While it's ridiculous to make this call, I have a feeling I'm gonna get some good news in March-April. Don't know why, just a feeling I've got. And if I'm wrong--definitely happens--then whatever. I'm gonna keep writing. Someday, it's gonna work out. I just don't know how yet. Call me crazy. Call me misguided. Call me vain. As I see it, 2011 is gonna be a good year!

When TC Boyle Treats Your Success as a Fiction Writer as if It's Inevitable when It's Not but You Really Want it to Be

2011-01-25T21:41:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, I was chatting with my Turkish friend Marve(y) on campus. It was one of those perfect, idyllic LA days + I was laughing about, fuck I dunno, something, when Tom walked up to me + said: --I recognize that laugh a mile away.
--Hey Tom, I said. Oh Tom, this is my friend Marve(y)
--Hello, she said, blushing.
--Hi, nice to meet you, he said. Then, turning to me: Jackson, he said, stop by my office sometime. Let's talk.
--Okay, cool, I said.

The moral of the story is: When TC Boyle goes out of his way to say hi to you + tells you to stop by his office, you fucking stop by his office.

The next week, I did just that + went to his office.

--So, he said, what did Georges say?
--He said that he was impressed with my writing but also had some concerns that I had too many narrative strands in Ninjas, but he didn't want to prejudge, so he told me to send him the whole manuscript once I was done.
--Good, he said, smiling.
--Of course, it won't be ready for a year until I have a definitive draft. I'm only to page 200.
--Me too, but anyways, that's good that he wants to read the whole thing.
--Yeah, I guess so. How fast do you crank out a novel?
--Pretty fast. I'm working on a historical novel right now about the San Juan islands. I think we already talked about this.
I nodded.
--Listen, I was talking to Sandra Dijkstra. Are you familiar with her?
The truth is, I was trying to figure out whether my friend from Glenn Loomis Elementary School, Greta Dijkstra, had changed her first name + was friends with Tom for some bizarre reason. Finally, I decided that didn't make any sense, because, truthfully, it doesn't. I shook my head.
--She's a good agent. Tough, but very good. She asked me if I had any writers I could recommend to her. So maybe if it doesn't work out with Georges. . . Anyway, check out her website.
--Wow, awesome. Thanks Tom.
--Sure.
--The crazy thing is, I said, on the same day I got Georges's response, I also got a solicited email from the Irene Goodman Literary Agency.
Tom gave me a blank face.
--They do commercial, literary, genre + literary non-fiction.
--Oh, that's normal. Even Georges did a workout book with Jane Fonda.
--Really? I said, incredulously.
--Sure, why not? Some things just fall on your lap like that.
--Crazy.
He nodded.
--They asked for the whole manuscript of BLANK + also an outline of Ninjas.
--They're going to pick you up, he said.
--Really?
--Definitely.
--I dunno Tom, I'm playing it cautiously.
--Well, this is great. Maybe it'll work out with Georges. But if not, this might just be perfect for you. Or you can send something to Sandra.
--I also sent my story collection to Greywolf.
--Oh, he said, great press. I think that's a great idea: publish your stories with Graywolf + then get one of your novels out there. That's the way to go.

I love Tom, I really do + I especially appreciate how he talks about my own success as a fiction writer as if it's inevitable. It's a beautiful, wonderful thing to have someone like him giving you that kind of encouragement. But right now, at least for right now, it doesn't feel inevitable. I'm not being pessimistic (it's not my thing at all). I'm just being cautious. A secret part of me feels that it will happen--all of it--but admitting that out loud makes you sound arrogant + cocky + when it comes to this industry, I'm neither. Still, you have to believe things are going to work out. Otherwise, you stop hoping. And when you do that, you start writing solipsistically (or you stop writing--something I could never do), which means, you ignore everything that's flawed + amazing + impossible + heartbreaking about this world. Then you're really fucked.

Because I Just Don't Know How To Listen

2011-01-12T00:28:00.001-08:00

I'm a stubborn motherfucker. It's true. I don't think you can make it in this industry unless you're equal parts stubborn/delirious/delusional/suicidal/short-sighted. And even though I know that only 10% of Graywolf Press's accepted manuscripts are unsolicited, most of it, probably poetry, (which, obviously also means that 90% of it is agented--ho hum), I truly believe--because I'm stubborn/delirious/delusional/suicidal/short-sighted--that I have enough talent to burn to be part of that exclusive 10%, even if it's a long shot. That's why I just sent them my collection of short stories that I've been working on for five years now now called $67 for My Favorite Dictator.

What I've got going for me:

1. I've already published stories from this collection in the Kenyon Review, Quarterly West, ZYZZYVA, Stand Magazine, 3:am Magazine, Connecticut Review + the Notre Dame Review, so at least I've got that going for me.

2. Graywolf publishes a number of translations + likes writing that is both part of + is also conscious of the greater world surrounding the story + my stories take place in:

Kansas
Paris
Mexico City
Tokyo
Buenos Aires
Chicago
Portland
Burkina Faso
Los Angeles
Encinitas
New York
Lima
Toronto

3. My collection is mostly straight-up narrative, but there's also some flash fiction, conceptual/experimental short stories + two interlocked, language-driven pieces, so my collection has an amazing aesthetic variety.

4. Graywolf seemed to appreciate BLANK, so maybe, just maybe, they'll remember me.

Do any of these things guarantee a single goddamn thing in terms of getting published? Fuck no! Am I deterred? No! Should I be? Fuck yeah!

But that's just how I do.

Irene Goodman Agency Asks for Full Manuscript of BLANK

2011-01-06T13:26:00.000-08:00

In possibly the fastest turnover time in my entire life, the Irene Goodman Literary Agency asked for a full manuscript one day after asking for a long partial. Even so, I refuse to read into this. I will not read into this. I can't:

Jackson - thanks for the sample. Please email the full ms of BLANK as a Word attachment - paste the full query to the start of the attachment again. Thanks.

-G

Good Rejection from Brick Magazine

2011-01-06T13:20:00.000-08:00

For some reason, I can't get a piece in Brick Magazine. I've been trying for like years:

Dear Jackson,

Thank you for your submission. Although "...." is
very well written and engaging, we decided that it isn’t quite right
for Brick. We are a casual literary journal, and we generally publish
pieces on art and the writing life. That being said, it is an
interesting piece and I’m sure you’ll find a good home for it in a
more appropriate publication.

My apologies for the brevity of this message. The number of
submissions we receive forces us to resort to these terribly
impersonal replies. We do wish you all the best with your writing.

Thank you again for thinking of us.

Best wishes,

KF
Brick, A Literary Journal
PO Box 609, Station P
Toronto, Ontario M4T 2M5
Canada

My First Solicited Email from a Literary Agent

2011-01-05T13:28:00.000-08:00

Exciting! This is the first time I've received an email from a literary agent requesting a novel partial (+ not the other way around).

Jackson:

My name is G***** J******* and I am an assistant at The Irene Goodman Literary Agency in New York, assisting the agents who represent literary fiction and narrative non-fiction. We enjoyed "A Full Cellar" and we wanted to invite you to query us on the novel of yours that we read about.

You can email a query and a large partial (50 pages or so) to my attention at this email as an attachment; put SOLICITED in the subject line.

Thanks and we look forward to hearing from you.

Regards,

G J

Agents' Assistant

--
The Irene Goodman Literary Agency
27 West 24th St.
Suite 700B
New York, NY 10010

Georges Borchardt Responds

2011-01-05T13:24:00.000-08:00

Georges responds at last. And I'm still in agent limbo. . .

Dear Jackson Bliss,

It took me a little longer than I thought to get to THE NINJAS OF MY GREATER SELF, which you sent in. I’m very impressed with your writing and particularly liked the section called “Girls…”. I’m concerned, however, about the novel moving off in too many different directions, but I probably should not pre-judge before seeing the whole manuscript (which I’d be happy to read when it is ready).

Best,
Georges

Good Rejection from AGNI

2010-12-22T14:27:00.000-08:00

Dear Jackson,

We admired this and circulated it. but finally couldn't get to yes. Many thanks.

Eds.

________________________________

AGNI Magazine
Sven Birkerts, Editor
William Pierce, Senior Editor

Good Rejection from N+1

2010-12-12T18:28:00.000-08:00

Hey, Jackson.

I'm not sure if one of our higher-ups ever got back to you about your submission. We really enjoyed reading. . . . , particularly the Beepers story (!) but unfortunately we've decided not to publish. As a biannual, n+1 is only able to select such a small amount of content. We really appreciate your submission though, and do think of us in the future with your work. Sorry for the delay, and best with all your endeavors --

The Editors

Georges Borchardt Reads Half of the Ninjas of My Greater Self + Outline

2010-12-02T00:54:00.000-08:00

I will not read into this whatsoever. I won't expect anything to come from it. I won't let myself indulge in daydreaming (well, not any more than usual). I won't let this fuck with my mind or raise my hopes because the fall will be too precipitous, the ground is too rugged + bony, + while my backbone is really strong, stronger than it's ever been, my skin is still soft. I'm hoppa after all.

Even so, even so, I wrote Georges Borchardt after TC Boyle sent him an email telling him about me (+ mentioning some of my publications--I only know that because Tom asked me in his office to repeat some of my pubs to him so he could tell his agent). I wrote Georges + asked him what he wanted from me + this was his reply:

Dear Jackson,

Yes, three chapters would be fine, or better still all the finished portions; and an outline of the as yet unwritten or unfinished portions would be helpful.

Best,  
Georges

So, for the past three days, I've been polishing chapters, figuring out which ones were too rough to be sent + which ones showed promise. Then I wrote an outline of the entire novel (both the finished + unfinished chapters), which has helped me a lot in figuring out the endgame of this novel, how characters will intersect, shit like that. The exact same thing happened to me with Lynn Nesbit, who asked for the same thing, giving me the perfect excuse to work on + work out the plot of BLANK. And while obviously, she didn't pick up BLANK (her daughter, Priscilla Gilman, did seem to respect it though), Lynn Nesbit's request became the perfect excuse to figure out what the fuck was going on with my novel. This time, I have some pubs, I have the support of a famous writer, I have a small but direct contact inside the publishing world with someone who actually publishes authors with whom I share some aesthetic, literary, intellectual, socially-conscious + creative kinship. More than anything, I've got a--miniscule, but nevertheless tiny little--chance now.

I have no fucking idea, on the other hand, what's going to happen. But at least I've got hope. At least something's happening.

Anyway, stay tuned for more details.

What a Mensch

2010-11-29T23:59:00.000-08:00

TC Boyle is a true mensch. Since today was out last day of workshop, we filled out evaluations, workshopped our last three manuscripts + then once we were done, Tom went around the room + gave each writer a free book of his--a personally dedicated + autographed--book, specifically targeted for each writer. In case you're wondering, Tom gave me East is East, which is pretty fucking perfect for me since my current novel is about a Japanese-American boy who looks completely white + ends up ultimately in Tokyo, trying to figure out who the fuck he is.

Inside, Tom wrote:

Jackson,

With thanks and in appreciation of your work.

TC Boyle

11/29/10

What a mensch. What a fucking mensch.

Getting Some Love from TC Boyle

2010-11-23T01:22:00.000-08:00

Though it's just workshop props--and we all know that workshop has its own warped gravity, its own rules, blind spots + personality cults--I'm gonna fucking take the encouragement wherever I can get it. Here are Tom's comments for my last workshop manuscript (three chapters from my second novel in progress, Ninjas of My Greater Self). True, it may be just workshop feedback, but this shit makes feel good + sometimes, that's all we need to keep writing:

Jackson,

You don't need a workshop, you need a contract. This is so rich and beautiful and heartfelt that I'm won over to the project all over again. Here we can feel Hidashi as a character, vulnerable, angry + brilliantly observant, which (to my mind) wasn't necessarily the case in the earlier sections. But now you are getting to the beauty of things + dramatizing instead of posing + listing. Great stuff. Truly!

p.s. Love Hidashi's take on hipsters + the value of being hip
p.p.s. Love too how you're moving the story through these brilliant and hilarious scenes of dialogue

For a couple days, I'm gonna stand tall. Then, it's back to work.

Playing the Referral Game + Junot Diaz Comparisons

2010-11-09T18:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, TC Boyle admitted to me in his office that he made all of us in workshop read Junot Diaz (+ 3 other authors from Doubletakes), in part because he wanted the class to see some of the stylistic similarities between Brief Wondrous Life + yours truly.

--You know, I called that, I said. I actually told someone that I wondered whether you had us read Junot Diaz because it was similar in some ways to my own writing.
--No, it's true, he said.
--But I didn't wanna be egocentric, so I dismissed it as stylistic coincidence.
--No, you were right.

Fuck, how flattering is that shit?

::

Last year back when were just getting acquainted in our roles as writer-mentor, I asked TC Boyle one day in his office--because I'm ambitious like that--if he would give me a referral to four agents I was particularly in love with (Nicole Aragi, who I send a query letter to pretty much every year, Mary Evans + Eric Simonoff, both of whom have never responded to me, + Georges Borchardt, Tom's own agent). His response was fair: Let's work together in workshop in the fall + then I'll be happy to. Well, I never forget a promise, especially one involving my own writing career. So after we talked about the last two chapters I'd recently workshopped from The Ninjas of My Greater Self (my second novel), I asked him again + he was good to his word. It's an easier sell now I think because he has a much better idea of my aesthetic. And also, because he was especially impressed with the first chapter I submitted to workshop, "Girls: A Four-Movement Symphony by the Beastie Boys," the good thing is that he won't have to lie about my skillz. I could be wrong, but I don't think Tom goes out on a limb for his students unless:

1. He thinks they're talented
2. They initiate it themselves

So, I think it's a good sign he was still willing to give me a referral, but it's just a small step, one that promises nothing but opens up a new, dreamy--and very unlikely--possibility. But now, the real work begins. Getting a referral doesn't necessarily mean shit in this industry unless:

1. The agent has room in her/his client list, and most importantly:
2. They love the shit out of your novel. And just as importantly:
3. They know they can sell it

And of course, even in the best case scenario that all 4 agents ask to take a look at BLANK or Love + Porn--which won't happen--it's still very possible that I'm exactly where I was before I asked him.

And yet, yet, what other choice do I have? I have to risk the possibility of rejection in order to get my writing out there + create a readership. I have to do it for me + I have to do it for my art. I don't know another way except to keep pushing. Eventually, something breaks down, right? Eventually, someone pushes through. Why not me? Why not me? I ask you.

Good Rejections from Missouri Review + Slice Magazine

2010-10-19T19:40:00.000-07:00

I've gotten two good rejections in the past week.

Here's the first one from the Missouri Review:

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you for sending your story "****" for consideration. Speer Morgan read this piece with interest but ultimately decided it's not quite right for us.

The editors appreciate your interest in The Missouri Review and hope you'll consider sending us another story in the future. We wish you continued success in your publishing career.

Sincerely,

Dedra Earl for Speer Morgan

And here's the second rejection from my Slice Magazine. For the record, I've received 3 good rejections from Slice Magazine in a row now, but I can't get them to bite yet:

Dear Jackson Bliss:

Thanks so much for giving us the opportunity to consider your work for Slice. Due to the high volume of submissions we receive, we regret that we aren’t able to respond to each submission personally. We’ve been thoroughly impressed by the quality of the work that we’ve received. Unfortunately, we won’t be able to include your piece in our next issue of Slice. We’d love to consider more of your work in the future, though, so please do continue submitting to us.

Best wishes,

The Editors

2010-10-19 03:54:07 (GMT +1:00)

They're good rejections, but the reality is that they're still just rejections. Ikimashō!

Algonquin Press Asks for Bigger Excerpt

2010-10-17T00:29:00.000-07:00

I'm absolutely not going to read into this at this point because it's just a larger partial, but for what it's worth, Algonquin Press sent me a request for a 100-page partial of BLANK after I sent them a 30-page teaser. Doesn't mean anything. I absolutely refuse to read into this. I'll eradicate any + all hope for now because that shit just hurts when it comes back as a rejection (as it so often does). But still, for a couple seconds, it's kinda cool.

More Art, Less Writing

2010-10-08T01:06:00.000-07:00

Today, in between finishing Francine Prose's Blue Angel, playing with Zoe (our adorable shiapoo), schlepping our tired bodies to Whole Foods, watching Friday Night Lights reruns, conducting a thesis/topoi workshop in my writing + critical thinking seminar, watching porn on my iPhone while I brushed my teeth after class, between all of that, I've been thinking a lot about the difference between writer + artist:

There are a lot of writers on this planet for the simple reason that writing is a technical, redactive + analytical process--meaning, people who are skilled at conceptual organization, editing + analysis can + often do write really well. Further, these are learnable/transmittible skills.

Then there's the writer-artist, someone who can create entire worlds, characters + experiments, + direct them in the service of a storyline, conceptual framework or idea, transporting you into another, parallel, self-sustaining universe with the flash work of a single paragraph. That's what great writing can do when it's art, change the universal vibration of everything around you, whether it's literary fiction, chicklit, Stephen King or George Saunders.

The problem then, is that, the most distinguishing characteristic for a writer--i.e., your artistic, non-technical matrix--is precisely the one thing no MFA workshop can teach you. Workshops have to focus on technique because technique is technical + technical things can be taught, practiced, improved. But ultimately, while improving your technique will make you a better writer, it won't--it can't--make you a better artist. MFA programs know this. They're not delusional. In the back of most directors' mind, they know that, more than anything, their MFA program is basically a gift, a gift of community, support + time, + time, above all else, is a prerequisite to write, everyone's least common denominator, both writers + artists. But all of that writing doesn't mean you're an artist--didn't I just say this?--it means you're a fucking writer, which honestly, isn't a bad way to go at all.

My concern, though, is this: there are already way too many fucking writers in this country, in this continent, in this world. And while I'll support to the end of my life the right for MFA programs/residencies/endowments to exist + give shelter to writers who just need time--that precious commodity--to work out their potential art that's all tangled up inside, at the same time, MFA programs are also partially to blame for the proliferation of writers that haven't smelled one whiff of art in their 2-3 years of workshop-hysteria gang-rape. What the world needs, what American culture salivates for, what the brainiacs + college students + aggressive critics + tenured faculty + jaded post-homeboy Generation Me slackers all need--+ let's be honest, we always need something, nothing is more painfully human than that--is more art that is ambitious + difficult + smart + great soulful + provocative + the opposite of safe + socially-conscious + socially relevant + breathtaking + thought-provoking + timeless + insightful/generous/brutal about the human condition + above all else, profound in some existential, cultural or global way.

We're told that the little moments are the big moments now, that the reader shouldn't expect pay-offs (i.e. epiphanies), that beautiful writing is its own end, that any narrative, any story, any emotion, any character is worth writing about + for whatever reason if it's done well enough. Maybe, that's right. But maybe, just maybe this legitimately-constructed defense of art-for-art's-sake (one I've made a million times against people that use literature as an ideological puppet show), maybe this point of view has kept the front door open for so long that now everyone comes inside. Everything's art, therefore, nothing's art. Anyone can write a novel (especially a once drug-addicted celebrity with a ghost writer). Anyone can print a novel in a vanity or self-publishing press, therefore writing + publishing, are no longer exclusive, protected domains in this new arrangement of mass media democratization (which seems like a good thing!).

Because there is so much writing in America--more than at any point in our own cultural history--but so little art, so little genius, no wonder people don't read anymore. Maybe we've cheapened the deal for them by publishing writing but downplaying, ignoring, even cockblocking great art for fear of poor sales. Editors want to make money, agents want to sell manuscripts + writers just want readers, which might be the most dysfunctional fucking love triangle I've ever heard of.

And yet, despite this, I still can't stop writing. It's the only place I belong in this world. Whether it's art or not, I can't say. I'm not even sure that's my call. But I'm willing to double-up--whether true or not--that I'm in this for the art. Whether my writing is good enough to be art, well, I'll let you decide. I already know what I think.

One Day of Love, Then Back to Reality

2010-09-28T09:42:00.000-07:00

It's just some workshop props, nothing else. But hey, for just one moment, I'm gonna enjoy it. I'll fucking take the encouragement wherever I can get it, to fight the armies of cost-benefit analysis.

After I got home from workshop, I finally read Tom's critique of my manuscript of "Girls: A Four-Part Symphony by the Beastie Boys," a self-contained chapter from my second novel, The Ninjas of My Greater Self.

Here's an abridged version of TC Boyle's critique, verbatim:

Jackson:

Astonishing stuff. The language sings + the sensual details, of sex, + beauty + food + all the rest, make this very rich indeed. I have no qualms whatever--this is finished work.

There are perhaps a couple of places where the language calls attention to itself + perhaps the narrator protects his hipness a little too strenuously, but who cares? This is rich + nuanced, + the smart, funny, hyperactive voice carries it all the way.

Yeah, for a couple of seconds, it felt really good to read that.

But now (a day later), it's time to get back to reality: I'm still the same person I was yesterday, just another talented, aspiring fiction writer with just a few great publications. I still have a lot to prove to myself, to my critics + to all the people that won't give BLANK a chance in an industry filled to the sky with smooth, polished writing that has no soul, no vision + makes no attempt to create original, important, socially conscious, powerful, beautiful + ambitious art.

Carry on.

TC Boyle's Workshop = Dope

2010-09-23T23:45:00.000-07:00

I've taken workshop with a decent amount of writers + i have to say that TC Boyle is one of the most unusual + interesting people i've had a workshop with so far, Aimee Bender + Frances Sherwood being exceptions. I say unusual + interesting, but of course, those are both huge compliments. Here are a few things that i find interesting about tom's workshop in particular:

1. He's an amazing close reader of text--you can see the old PhD student studying 19th century Brit Lit a mile away, to be honest

2. He is, to this day, the only person i've had a workshop with, who even made the suggestion that a story in workshop might end exactly where it should be ending--you never hear that. The operative assumption in all workshops is that stories are never done, + even having a story end where it's supposed to obviously doesn't mean it's finished. But still, here's a writer who can say, "i think this piece still needs work, but i think you might be ending it exactly where i think you should be ending it." Fucking unheard of

3. He reads our critiques out loud (anonymously) + then uses them to launch our discussion, which seems really smart. Not only does it encourage good written feedback but it actively involves student critique in part of the dialogue, while also stripping us of our scripts (since he's holding our critiques), which condenses the dialogue really beautifully

4. He doesn't let the workshop dwell on the same issues. Most workshops I've taken, people either fight to disagree with workshop consensus, writers are competing with each other to outcritique the manuscript, the writers are psychoanalyzing the writer through his/her manuscript or they're trying really hard to kiss the workshop leader's ass. Here, that doesn't happen. When things become redundant, he changes the focus, picks a new aspect of the manuscript to analyze + asks a new set of questions

5. As with Aimee Bender's workshop, when Tom speaks, you fucking listen because like her, he's a master of the short story + obviously all of us, no matter where we are in our own aesthetic evolution, surely are not

6. Because people can't rehash the same shit over + over again, workshop gets out 30-40 minutes early every week. It's fucking amazing!

Good Rejections Suck Ass

2010-09-15T14:23:00.000-07:00

I know I'm supposed to be grateful for receiving a good rejection. And on the most important level, I am. The fact that someone took the time to write me a note is a personally moving experience + lets me know that my writing touched someone enough for her to send me a letter written in her own penmanship, when they could have just as easily have sent me a form rejection, or gone out to lunch, or masturbated in the shower, or eaten a bowlful of black cherries. Maybe, the editor did all of things, and still sent me a hand-written letter. Who the fuck really knows? So the process of reaching out to someone, that I really appreciate. The outcome, on the other hand, just fucking plain sucks ass. I'm so sick of good rejections I could cry. In the beginning, they are encouraging little moments of artistic momentum, sent to you by the universe--or so it seems--to push you to keep writing, submitting + believing, to never give up. And write, submit + believe I have.

But I'm at the primitive (but slightly more successful) stage of my writing career now where the good rejection doesn't charm like it once did. The intention remains beautiful, but the end result is beginning to feel not only predictable but frustrating. Why do journals need a consensus when they publish pieces anyway? Why can't some editors push for the pieces they like + others simply lobby for the stories they really want to see in print? I mean, certainly there will be much overlap of pieces editors both like, so why do I find my stories constantly dividing editors into yes + sorry-but-no camps? How scary would it be if they all actually agreed that my story was either uniformly kick-ass or uniformly shitty? I mean, doesn't art--and by that, I mean, good art--by its very nature, divide an intelligent audience? Isn't that the point? Anyway, I'm casting away my sorrow now to focus on my second novel + my story that will be coming out of Quarterly West soon. But these questions, I'm not sure if they ever go away.

::

On to rejections. Yesterday I received this hand-written letter from RHINO. It reads:

Dear Mr Bliss,

Thank you for your submission. We were particularly interested in "Shinjuku" [a 4am]," and it engendered a lively discussion among our editors. Although we were not able to find a place for it in the upcoming RHINO, we were nonetheless impressed with your work, and hope you will consider submitting to us again.
Wishing you continued success in your writing life.

R(P?)**********,
Editor

Today, I received this rejection letter from McSweeney's after waiting exactly a year. It said:

Hi Jackson,

thanks for checking in on this one, and sorry it’s taken us so long to respond—we got sidetracked by a few special projects, and have gotten way too behind on our reading. I think we’ve finally decided to let it go, unfortunately--but please feel free to keep ‘em coming, as always. Thanks again,

J**********

What to say? I love both these journals, but I don't really have any more flash fiction I can send RHINO, sad to say, so I'm not sure I will be able to send them more material. As for McSweeney's, I'm beginning to feel like an asshole sending the fiction editor my newest short stories first (is it some weird sort of loyalty that makes me do that?) just to wait 8-12 months for my story to get rejected. That's a long time to wait before getting dumped. I mean, 5-6 months, doesn't sting so bad. I mean, 5-6 months is the standard production curve of rejection anyway. But 9-12 months? I find it so hard not to think (read: dream) that my story has made it into the final rounds of manuscript heaven, a mythical land called McSweeneyville (the place where all fiction writers hope their manuscripts die) . I guess Aimee is right: if you don't hear from McSweeney's in a year, chances are, they're just not that interested. I guess the question now is, when do they start becoming interested? What am I doing wrong here? Are my stories not hip enough for McSweeney's? Are my male characters not broken enough? The girls, not spunky and eccentric enough?

The last piece I sent them was about a porn star who becomes a fan of a totally obscure literary fiction writer. If that doesn't get them on board, frankly, maybe it's time I stopped trying.

Maybe it's just not going to happen. Maybe I'm too old for McSweeney's + too young + naïve for the New Yorker. Maybe, just maybe, the real problem, is that I actually care what editors think about my writing + it bothers me that they don't love my writing the way I think they should.

Who the fuck knows?

Aimee Bender Helps Me Chill Out

2010-09-02T14:41:00.000-07:00

I'm gonna tell this story in reverse:

Exactly one minute after hanging out with Aimee, I received this email from Graywolf Press, that pretty much broke my heart:

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you very much for submitting "BLANK" to Graywolf Press.

We certainly found a great deal to admire in your work, but when it came time to make a publishing commitment, I’m afraid we decided we couldn’t make you an offer. It’s always difficult to make these decisions and to write letters like this one. The small number of books we can publish each year unfortunately puts us in a difficult position in terms of taking on a lot of new work.

We will say, though, that your enthusiasm about New York is fresh and infectious, and we did enjoy much of this. Unfortunately, we didn't connect with the voice here as well as we'd have liked. This is, of course, simply a matter of taste, and others may feel differently.

In any case, thank you for having Graywolf in mind. We wish you the best of luck in finding the right publisher for your work.

With best wishes,

The Editors
Graywolf Press

I have crazy love/respect for Graywolf Press. They pretty much epitomize everything that is awesome about indie presses (e.g. great selection of published novels, including translations, a devoted, smart + savvy editorial staff, national distribution, publishes literature that is aware of the greater world around us). So you can imagine the heartbreak when I found out they'd rejected BLANK. My big concern with BLANK has always been that it's too structurally ambitious, too conceptual + lyrical, too socially plugged-in + too unorthodox for most of the big presses. So my concern, my big concern, is that if the awesome indie presses won't take a chance on a sui generis novel like BLANK, then frankly, who the hell will? I mean, the only way I'm going to get Little, Brown to publish BLANK is if I have a love affair with Paris Hilton or protect Jessica Alba from a mugger with my dinner toothpick.

But my conversation with Aimee helped me get my shit straight:

1. I have to remember that I'm working on a second novel right now, which means that I'm not going to be sending out as many manuscripts as I normally do, which means I'm also not going to be getting pieces picked up as much as I'd like. But that's part of the whole creation process when you write. Working on a novel is your downtime to create, revise + invent. Most of the time, your novel will be hard to split up into pieces + published anyway, so you shouldn't worry about the publishing game for quite awhile.

2. Every major writer always has a tipping point. For her, it was publishing a short story in the Santa Monica Review, which helped her find an agent, get published in an anthology +get Girl with a Flammable Skirt published, all happening in quick succession. Obviously, I don't know if I'll have a tipping point (though I believe I will) or when it'll happen (though I sense it'll happen while I'm in LA). All I can do is keep writing, submit when I can + remember that I'll get my time. I hope.

3. After she offered me one of her vegan samosas, I asked Aimee what Jim Sheppard's writing trajectory was like.

--I'm not sure, she said, but I'm sure he paid his dues just like we all do.

And somehow, that's comforting to know that other writers that are now national players have had to slowly create their own momentum too just like I do, just like almost every writer has to.

4. I apologized to her about bringing in an Anis Shivani article for the class to discuss in our workshop last year in light of Shivani's most recent bitch session about literary publishing in the Huffington Post that came out a few weeks ago. Anis Shivani picked Aimee as one of the 15 most overrated contemporary writers

--Oh, don't worry about it, she said, smiling. --Actually, I'm completely flattered to be mentioned with those other writers: Amy Hempel, Jhumpa Lahiri, Junot Diaz, Vollman, Lydia Davis.

This is when I told her: --Aimee, for the record, I think it's really hard to write like you. I've never seen anyone who could write you convincingly. Besides, theory's got nothing on you.

--Thanks, Jackson, she said, blushing, --I appreciate that.

I guess writing is tough for everyone right now.

My First Official Workshop with TC Boyle

2010-08-23T15:59:00.000-07:00

I've already met, chatted with + kicked it with TC Boyle many times in the past year, but today was the first time I had an official workshop with him, which changes the dynamic a bit. Anyway, because it was the first day of workshop, we didn't workshop stories. Instead, Tom read Tobias Wolf's "Bullet in the Brain," which just happens to be one of my favorite short stories of all time + definitely my favorite story in The Night in Question. It was one of my favorite moments at SC so far, listening to TC Boyle read Tobias Wolf. Besides writing the story yourself, what could better? After he was done reading, Tom plopped down the book on the desk and said: --Yup, one of Toby's best.

Toby. Did you hear that? Toby. Later on, I'd eavesdrop on Tom talking to a first year fiction writer + listen to him say shit that just blew my mind. Shit like: --so I told Ray (as in Raymond Carver). . . and I told John (as in, John Irving) I just wanted to write short stories + he said I might change my mind later on. In Review: Tom, Toby, Ray + John. For a split second, the literary Parthenon feels so close to me somehow, like smells drifting upstairs from the kitchen.

Novel Chapter from BLANK Published in Fiction

2010-08-13T16:11:00.001-07:00

There are few joys greater than seeing your shit in print. That's a rule + I'm sticking to it, man. So you can imagine how giddy I was today when I walked into the Hollywood Borders + there was my story featured in Fiction # 56, my name being the first name on the front cover. It was a pure, inexplicable + dirty little joy. Even better, I had the privilege of sharing journal space with one of my favorite Japanese authors, Murakami Ryū (author of Almost Transparent Blue, Coin Locker Babies, "Tokyo Decadence", among others). I may get 100 rejections this year (like last year). I may--shudder at the point--never publish BLANK in its current form. I may not become the literary superstar I secretly hope/believe I am. I may not ever become a household name--which writers are these days? I may not even get the privilege to live in relative obscurity, teaching fiction workshops to aspiring delusional writers inside pretty-looking college seminar rooms. Who the fuck knows how it all works anyway?

But what I do know, what I know for sure, is that this moment, this perfect little moment is mine. And though it can never last, I know that in this tiny moment, I just published a chapter from my first novel in an awesome literary journal that you can buy pretty much in almost any Borders in America. And that makes me wanna cry for all the years no one could find me.

3 Chapters from BLANK Published in the African American Review

2010-07-30T15:49:00.000-07:00

Finally! "Skinny Boys," "The Molesters" + "The Symmetry of Tablespoons," three Chapters from my debut novel, BLANK, were recently published in the African American Review (Volume 43 #1). After being accepted way back in 2008, it feels so great to finally see those chapters in print. If you want to buy a copy for yourself, you can do so here. Otherwise, check it out on Project Muse for free.

Writer Culture Fatigue

2010-07-24T01:28:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot recently about the defects of writer culture. You know what I'm talking about: we become experts on not only MFA programs but also literary journals, artist colonies + residencies, agents + editors, contests + book publishers. We start to form a rolodex in our mind of important writers we've read, worked with, know gossip about. We drop casual workshop jargon in our craft conversations as if art is dead, some sort of clinical experiment that involves goggles, rubber gloves + a fucking pencil knife. Unconsciously, we begin amassing a long list of craft maxims, followed by an even longer list of craft exceptions, obscurity-to-fame stories, industry gripes and undeserved success stories.

I guess we do this not only because writing is our life, but because all of this stuff makes us feel somehow like we're just a little closer to making it--whatever making it means these days. I'm sympathetic to all of this shit + I'm guilty of all these things too. But now I'm starting to think that:

1. While the average technical ability of a fiction writer today is much higher than it was a 100 years ago, I feel like there is also very little original art being created in America's workshops, which is troubling

2. While important, networking should never replace great writing. Ditto with name-dropping, program nepotism + market saturation.

3. Great art should trump everything else, and somehow, in this age of self-publishing, bottom lines, sell-throughs, contractual fine print, cost benefit analysis, great writing isn't making it to the bookshelves enough, and I'm not just saying that because I haven't found a publishing house yet for BLANK.

4. I don't like talking about writing anymore. Let me qualify that. For years now, I've felt like I'm not talking about writing for the right reasons. By that I mean, I no longer talk about writing because it's changing my life, but because I'm examining it, which, in a way, belittles writing. When writing stops being about great ideas + powerful narratives + starts being about narratives arcs, backstory, dialogue + flashbacks, I think the battle is already lost. I don't mind technical analysis, but the point is to analyze technique in order to improve the transmission of art, not to improve the technique itself. Isn't the ultimate goal of writing to produce art? Wait, before you bark back another writing platitude, think about that. Has writing + art become separate mediums? Because to me, it feels like the goal of writing has changed from creating art that is ambitious, socially-conscious + emotionally powerful into producing technically competent writing, as if that's the goal, as if writing isn't art anymore, but a form of circular logic whose ultimate destination is itself.

Whatever writing is, for me, it is above all else, art, motherfuckers. It's supposed to provoke, speculate, create, engage, analyze, move, inspire, devastate, reify, push and pull, twirl in circles, slur, slap, arouse, infect, overwhelm, exhale, fly, imagine, dare, delight, infuriate, affect, teach, hurt, open up, give voice to + often, scare us. If it doesn't do that, some of that, any of that + so much more, then I don't want to read it, whatever it is, no matter how well written it is, I'm just not interested. Medical journals are extremely well edited + technically polished, but yo, they don't fucking have what I need.

Why I Really Want to Win a Book Contest

2010-06-20T21:30:00.000-07:00

So that now I'm officially entered in 3 separate book contests for short story collections (the AWP Prize, the Flannery O'Connor Prize + the Drue Heinz Literature Prize) + will have to wait forever to hear the results, I can't help but dream the impossible dream. The reality of life as a literary fiction writer is obviously changing a lot + MFA graduates are spraying out of an art pipe right now that universities can't possibly absorb or sponge up fast enough, but I still believe (have to believe) that winning a major literary prize + or subsequently publishing a first short story collection/debut novel would basically change my writing career. I mean, fiction writers have gotten fame + tenure on less than that + fame + tenure gives writers summers (moments) to write while keeping their hands warm in the Winter. Not a bad fucking deal at all for a boy used to nothing.

But my desire to win a book contest transcends my desire to teach + avoid a life of prolonged poverty. Part of it is about the concreteness of seeing my book, my stories, my work, transformed into an external object that other people can consume, underline, wrinkle, argue about, analyze, misquote, all of which are different ways of giving weight to words. Metaphysically, this is the closest thing a writer will get to a miracle.

Another part is, I don't seem to be very good at winning contests. I've only won one in my whole life (the Sparks Prize) + I was only competing with 10 other people, not exactly inspiring odds, even if that prize did in fact help clarify my priorities for me and remind me of my purpose on earth (thank you, universe!). But there's something about having a readership, about gates flung open by the same gatekeepers that once locked you out of your destiny for a decade in the form of workshop teacher, editor, reader, agent, that all seems so fucking amazing to me. With one book, it becomes impossible not to say these words: you're not a writer. You may not be a good writer (fuck, you could be a terrible one), but no one can take away who you are anymore the way they did when you were just a bundle of great ideas and pretty lines. And there's something reassuring about that.

The truth is, I don't know what that feels like. I'm constantly living between the potential + kinetic art worlds all the time. One minute, I'm stoked because I'll get to see a chapter from BLANK in a nationally distributed journal like Fiction that my friends will be able to purchase at any Borders in the country--unthinkable three years ago. But then the next minute, I realize I've only heard good news from one journal this whole year + it's already half-way through 2010! Even worse, I don't feel any closer to publishing BLANK or my collection of short stories than I did when I'd finished my MFA, and that kinda depresses me because I feel that I've really evolved as a writer into someone with a particular, unique style that has a place in the publishing industry.

So that's the rub I guess: without dreams, I don't enter contests or submit stories to journals or send my novel to finicky agents and language-worshipping small presses. But because I do those things, I get rejected more than any other writer I know, certainly more than the other writers that either give up or just stick their stories in the bottom desk drawer. And dreams can really fuck you up as an artist. They implant ideas inside your heart that only end up leaving paper cuts on the places they touch. Sometimes all you want to do is spend your life writing, which is hard to do when your writing doesn't pay your electricity bill.

But then again, if one contest goes your away, everything changes in a silent flash. It doesn't change a lot, just a little. But when you change one thing completely inside of yourself, you fundamentally change everything connected to it. And that is where my hope begins, right where luck makes out with destiny.

Baby Steps

2010-06-04T02:04:00.000-07:00

As an emerging fiction writer, you have to continuously find new ways to believe in your writing for the simple reason that in the beginning--and it's always the beginning until you're famous--you're the only motherfucker who believes in it. Parents, friends, classmates, wives, pediatricians, as lovely as they are, don't matter, at least not in the publishing world. All the love in the world won't get you published, at least not until it's an editor who's swooning over your language play. So, in order to find the perfect agent + publish your polished novel, you need to make a name for yourself first. So you send query letters to agents + submit stories/chapters to literary journals, all of which entails a shitload of rejection. And with all that rejection, it's easy, so easy, in fact, to listen to that nagging little voice inside your head that says you're just not cut out for this industry that seems to reward technique over beauty, name-recognition over originality. Maybe you're not talented enough (unlikely). Maybe you're not intrepid enough (more likely). Maybe you're not well-connected enough + your skin isn't thick enough (very likely). But to stick it out in this game, inevitably, you learn to be intrepid, you build your own networks + through scar tissue, you become thick-skinned. You have no other choice. Otherwise, you give up. Luck helps, but as it turns out, you can't bribe her. . .

My problem (+ greatest strength) is that I don't give up on the things I love. The few respectable print publications I have so far are as much a product of my talent as my stubbornness. But shit, I'm human + sometimes I need to replenish, not only my faith in myself as an literary fiction writer, but also my hope as a human being.

So, here are a few things that help me keep the faith:

1. Submitted Love + Porn, my collection of short stories, to the AWP Contest in short fiction

2. Submitted Love + Porn to the Flannery O'Connor Award for Short Fiction

3. Submitted Love + Porn to the Drue Heinz Literature Prize

Winning any of these contests is really fucking hard because each contest receives hundreds upon hundreds of manuscripts, many of which are as polished + pretty as yours. But you have to face these odds with your bare fists + fight for your right to live as a writer. And every contest you don't enter, your failure rate is 100%. So I'll take my 1-2% chance, thank you very much. Besides, even with those slim odds, the potential payoff can be fucking amazing: you win a prestigious literary contest, you win some cash + most importantly, you get your first collection of short stories out there in the world (which later, will probably get picked up by a major publishing house too--it happens all the time). And then, suddenly crowned with your first book, you'll give a few readings. You might give an interview or two for a journal. A book club wants to chat with you. Readers argue about you on Amazon. And suddenly, suddenly, your application for that creative writing faculty position, it goes from the bottom of the pile to somewhere in the middle. All of that with just one book, one contest, one piece of conspiracy that goes your way.

Beyond that, there are other things too that give me hope in the now + these things matter:

1. Like finding this awesome review in Ruelle Électrique of "A Full Cellar" that was published in ZYZZYVA, part of which you can read here (though this is not the complete story, by the way).

2. Finding my writing blog on New Pages without having to beg someone!

3. When times get tough, I remind myself that 8 years ago, I'd never taken a workshop before + now, TC Boyle is my thesis adviser

4. Remembering how only 3 years ago, I didn't have a single short story published in a prominent, nationally-distributed print literary journal. Not one

5. Fanmail. Though sparse, I've officially received 3-4 emails from people who read something of mine + loved it. And that really fucking makes my day. It helps me know that my writing does matter

Granted, there is still so much more to accomplish as (just another talented) fiction writer in this cut-throat market. But you can only take baby steps in this industry. And finally, I've taken a few. Just a few. But that's how you get to where you need to be.

Kicking it with Miguel Syjuco

2010-05-06T00:01:00.001-07:00

Lissa, Marvin + I met Miguel Syjuco in the bar of the Hotel Standard where we asked him our first FF10 (10 questions we ask every author we interview for our journal, Flying Fists). Then, Lissa did some follow-up questions for Tayo Magazine. For those of you that might not know, Miguel Syjuco is a rising star in the publishing world. After winning both the Palanca award (Philippine's equivalent of the Pulitzer prize in fiction) + the Man Asian Literary Award in 2008, Miguel has been gaining a lot of attention. His success story sounds like something in a movie: as he explained at his reading at the LA Public Library 4 hours later, 1 week after winning the Man Asian Literary Award, he got an agent (Melanie Jackson) + 2 weeks after that, a book contract. Yes, it's enough to make you drool.

But what's great about MS, is that the hype hasn't gone to his head. He's a nice, funny, interesting, smart, personable + all around cool dude. Even better, his attitude towards race + fiction: culture + fiction should influence but not control our writing. Anyway, I won't spoil the rest of the interview since we're including it in our first issue of Flying Fists coming out in the fall, but for now, just know that Miguel Syjuco, the man + the writer, is an awesome guy.

When I gave him my copy of Ilustrado to sign, telling him it better be good, he wrote:

Jackson,

Stay in school + don't do drugs. I look forward to your signing your book for me in turn one day soon. Keep writing + take no shit from nobody, man.

Miguel

6 Ways I've Kept Hope Alive This Month as an Emering Writer:

2010-05-05T02:36:00.000-07:00

1. I sent BLANK to Graywolf press

2. I submitted stories to RHINO, Zoetrope, N+1, Alaska Quarterly

3. I also sent a new story to Dave Eggers (he told me he likes Africa stories back when I was a MFA student at Notre Dame, so I sent a new Africa story to his assistant, who forwarded to him for me)

4. I randomly emailed Melanie Jackson (Rick Moody + Miguel Syjuco's agent) + asked her whether she was accepting unsolicited query letters right now. Just seemed like the considerate thing to do before filling up her inbox with another pitch. Chances are, she won't let me know how considerate I was

5. Tomorrow, Lissa, Marvin + I are interviewing Miguel Syjuco in his hotel room for our debut issue of Flying Fists

6. I received a message on FB by a fan of mine who called "A Full Cellar" a masterpiece. Ah, how wonderful it is to feel like a writer + touch the contour lines of art for a second + see the social effects of your words!

The Contrast Sharpened the Grief: The Three Mistakes of Ryu Murasaki

2010-04-30T22:23:00.000-07:00

Yo, a group of us writers with diverse styles, skill sets + aesthetics are doing a LITERARY BLOG RELAY. Here are the rules:

Each writer writes 250 words (e.g. a piece of flash fiction, a novel excerpt, an acrostic poem, a bathroom limerick, whatev) and then tags the next writer on the relay list. Basically, we can write whatever the fuck we want, but each post must begin with the last line of the previous post (in bold here) + must be linked (however loosely) to a central theme, in this case, “A Stranger Comes to Town.”

Here's my contribution, using the last line from Christine Zilka's piece (below in bold).

Jennifer Derilo is next.

The contrast sharpened the grief.

He was not in Osaka anymore + the tekkamaki he'd bought at Itami was starting to smell like a drowned sea mammal. Ryu realized that his first mistake (+ there were many) was arriving on a Saturday. The taxis were crammed with wobbly college kids adorned in kelly green, navy blue and cardinal red t-shirts, tubby alumni and barking military families, all of them heading towards campus with dead-fish eyes and poinsettia-red faces. He felt like American football (whatever the hell that was) was turning people into pieces of tuna sashimi.

Ryu's second mistake (which is directly related to his first mistake) was getting into town on the day of the Notre Dame-USC game. After he'd finally hailed a taxi to the edge of campus, Ryu dragged his gigantic plaid suitcase behind him into the hornet's nest. A middle-aged couple wearing "Notre Dame Mom" and "Notre Dame Dad" sweatshirts and chinos swaggered past Ryu. A twiggy girl with a leprechaun decal ironed onto her freckly cheeks bumped into him + then burped into her hand, apologizing to him with a wax-on, wax-off wave. Three college boys in matching baseball caps, their arms interlocked on their shoulders, stumbled past him. When Ryu tried to move around their rugby formation, the boys patted him on the shoulder and shouted: Yeah, bro! Go Irish! It took Ryu two hours to make it to his campus apartment, + when he'd finally plopped his keys on the kitchen table + saw the cable wires dangling from the wall + the sad brown couch with the frumpy cushions + the sad brown bed upstairs with the plastic mattress, he walked into the bathroom + threw up on the floor.

But it was Ryu's third + final mistake that upset him the most, a mistake he didn't even realize he'd made until he was boiling water for his first cup of ochya in America. When he stood up to phone his mom, he suddenly realized he'd crossed the international time line. It was 1:30pm in South Bend but it was 3:30 am in Osaka. And Saturday was the day his mom took obasama to the Geranium market to buy blue stargazers. It was the only day she didn't need to hear his voice.

THE FULL LINE-UP, IN ORDER (Completed posts in bold)….

Wah-Ming Chang: http://wmcisnowhere.wordpress.com
Jamey Hatley http://jameyhatley.wordpress.com
Stephanie Brown http://scififanatic.livejournal.com/
Andrew Whitacre http://fungibleconvictions.com/
Heather McDonald http://heathersalphabet.wordpress.com/
Christine Lee Zilka http://czilka.wordpress.com/
Jackson Bliss http://bluemosaicme.blogspot.com/
Jennifer Derilo (to be posted on http://czilka.wordpress.com/)
Alexander Chee http://koreanish.com/
Nova Ren Suma http://novaren.wordpress.com/

THE RULES….

Start with the last line of the previous entry.
Poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction.
250 words.
Thematically linked.
Link to the next person on the list, as well as those who posted before you.
Post something within four or five days of the most recent piece.
Posts should start with an explanation, with links to the previous posts as well as the next.

Reading at Casa Princesa, 28 April 2010, 7pm

2010-04-26T00:47:00.000-07:00

1st Story Accepted in 2010

2010-04-16T01:12:00.000-07:00

Finally! My first accepted story of 2010. I woke up yesterday + the first thing I read on my iPhone was:

Dear Jackson Bliss:

Congratulations! The editors were very impressed with your submission to Quarterly West. Please send us a brief bio for the contributors page.

Sincerely,

The Editors of Quarterly West

2010-04-14 09:56:01 (GMT -6:00)

I'm so excited that my story, "30 Roofies," finally got accepted. It's one of my favorite stories + was inspired from the month that LB + I spent in Peru in 2008. Can't wait to see it in print. Thanks you editors at Quarterly West!

If You Want to Be a Fiction Writer, Understand the Stats + Then Ignore Them

2010-04-16T00:53:00.000-07:00

Once you've published a few stories in some good print journals, you realize that you have to go through the same process of submitting, waiting, dreaming + getting rejected, each + every year. So, waiting for that first journal acceptance of the year can be nerve-wracking. Think of professional tennis players when they're out there on the court during a live Wimbledon match, muttering things to themselves like: His serve isn't that fast. You can totally take him. Don't forget about his backhand. Need a winner. Cross-court, maybe. Time for an ace, motherfucker.

Same thing applies to me. I go through this mind-fuck every year: Well, maybe you're not gonna get any stories accepted this year, but that's okay because last year was a good year for you + you can't fucking expect your shit to get accepted every year--that's arrogant. Maybe this will be the year you get your first book published. Sometimes, it just doesn't happen + that's okay because the important thing is, you're writing the best shit you've ever written. Don't forget: sometimes the stock market rallies right before closing. Anything can happen in publishing, don't forget that. You might get a flurry of acceptances right before the New Year.

Anyway, the point is: It doesn't always work out for you when you're a fiction writer. In fact, it usually doesn't work out for you--let me just count the rejections I've gotten just in 2010. Hold on while I look it up: Okay, 18 rejections since January, which doesn't sound bad, but that's because I still haven't heard from 41 journals. Also, I've amassed 62 rejections since last April. To put things in perspective: in 2009, I submitted 84 manuscripts (+ about 6 query letters) + I got 2 stories picked up. Now granted, those were two of the best journals yet for me, but still, look at those stats, man: 2 journals / 84 = 1/42 chance. So, to give you an idea of how fucking hard it is to erupt into this industry, when I look up the Missouri Review's submission guidelines, and they say that they accept less than 1%, to me, 1% is fucking great. I can live with a (slightly less than )1% acceptance rate, which just gives you an idea of how warped this industry is. So, the point is, understand these stats (meaning, don't expect miracles + don't expect your career as a writer to be a rapid evolution because it always happens way slower than you expect it to), but then, after you've done that, ignore the odds (because they're clearly not in your favor) + just keep writing.

If it's in you, you can't + won't stop writing--it's not even a choice. And you'll need that stubbornness to get to where you wanna be, which is somewhere.

The Best Time to Write is Right Now

2010-04-11T00:37:00.000-07:00

Because he's my thesis adviser, I had to stop by TC Boyle's office yesterday to get his signature for my fall class schedule, which is always the perfect excuse to kick it for 30 minutes + catch up on things. Among some of the highlights of our conversation:

1. Tom confessed that the only thing he felt really needed from his teachers at Iowa (+ in general) was a little encouragement now + then, and maybe a couple edit suggestions every so often.
--That's exactly what I need, I said.

2. After I asked him when his favorite time to write was, he said: I like writing from 10:00am to 2:00pm. I get a lot of writing that way.

3. When I asked him where he liked to write, he said he liked writing in the mountains. I confessed that I was surprised because his writing has such energy + his language is so creative + intense, all adjectives I associate with the city. He admitted he likes the country + the city for different reasons. I think he may be right though. I'm considering applying for a Yaddo residence fellowship next year for that reason. . .

4. I told him I was thinking of going on a mediafast soon (because I waste too much time on crappy reality television, reading the same news stories + facebook).
--What's that? He asked.
--Oh, no cell phone, no internet, no tv, no movie, just writing.
--Well, you'll probably need that for your novel, to really get into it. But short stories work great with all of that noise in the background.

5. When we talked about the LA Times Festival of Books, he told me: they put me at the end of the reading list to stop people from leaving early, but really, I think they're just taking me for granted because I do it every year.

6. I lamented that it was sad that if I'm lucky, I'll be just another author that "makes it" in America, which means going on a 10-city bookstore and reading excerpts of his/her book to three people in the audience (if it's not just canceled out right) + often, they're not even there for you, they're the leftovers from the author before you whose fifth book on the secrets of wealth just became a NYT Bestseller. Either that, or the bookstore's deli was giving away free brownie bites with purchase.

Tom looked at me, raised his eyebrow + said: --I don't see another way. I mean, you have to build your fan base, and in the beginning, you don't have that many readers.

7. I told him that I thought the publishing industry has changed a lot. Now, it seems like a lot more is asked of the author in terms of self-promotion. Writers have to be willing to market their own shit, find their own audience, maintain their own website, befriend their own fans on FB + MySpace, send out their own submissions. He said I might be right, but he wouldn't know because he's been doing the same thing since he left Iowa City.

8. I described the writing relay using literary blogs I'm doing with some other fiction writers like Andrew Whitacre, Christina Zilka + Alexander Chee, to name a few.
--It's sort of like an exquisite corpse, I explained, but with writing blogs instead of pictures.
He paused, then said: --Alexander Chee, why do I know that name?
--He wrote Edinburgh.
--Don't know that. He looked around his crowded office overflowing with manuscripts + magazine covers, then he pushed a book towards me on the desk. I zoomed in. The book was called, Mentors, Muses & Monsters: 30 Writers on the People Who Changed Their Lives. And sure enough, there was one of Chee's (many beautifully written) essays on Annie Dillard.

9. As our conversation came to a close, I realized--as I do so often in this industry--how far I have to go before I'll be able to say I've really made it. The distance is always greater than the longest distance I imagined it being, which is odd because I have an insane imagination, so I already imagined it being really really long. And that's the scary thing, it's even longer than that. When I got my first print publication, I thought I was on my way, slowly but surely. Before that, I remember sitting down in my boxer shorts one afternoon in Astoria, with the summer light filtering in through the windows, thinking, wow, I just got my first good online publication. In neither instance was I anywhere close to making it. The only thing I can say is that I got a few hints that my writing was really good. A few hints + nothing else.

I didn't know in either instance--and thank god I didn't because maybe I would have folded--that that it takes forever just creating momentum for yourself as a young writer + only after things start moving do you begin to realize that they move a 100 times slower than you can possibly imagine (or endure). But because writing is who you are, you persevere. You can't turn around now. You wouldn't even know where to go. I didn't know then + I try not to think about it now that failure is the rule + that publication is the exception in this industry. But even slowness is momentum + momentum is the only change you're got as an author to reach other people, so of course you take it.

10. As we said goodbye, Tom turned to me + said: --Jackson, Congratulations on everything you've done this year + everything you're going to do.

I laughed + told him I'd see him in the fall. But of course, I meant, I'll see you at the Festival of Books where I look forward to taking you for granted like everyone else.

Short Story Published in ZYZZYVA

2010-03-14T16:13:00.000-07:00

Finally! My Short Story, "$67.00 for My Favorite Dictator," the story I workshopped in Aimee Bender's class (which is called "A Full Cellar" in this journal) is now finally available for public consumption. You can check it out in ZYZZYVA #88, Sprint 2010, which is now in book stands (especially the great, local, west coast ones). Click on the cover art to read an excerpt of my story and/or to order your own copy. Or if you're really feeling generous, help the small literary journals + subscribe after reading this. It'll make you feel good about the world.

Thoughts on Race, White Despair + 20-Something Readers in Fiction

2010-03-13T14:45:00.000-08:00

Here's a small compilation of responses about race, publishing + fiction that I wrote to my readers (most of who were smart, interested, fiction writers themselves) from my former Live Journal blog :

1. It’s easier for someone to step into the narrative arc whose cultural perspective is either similar or compatible with what s/he "knows," or thinks s/he knows. That's really the problem. So, for example, let's say the editor is vaguely liberal, but doesn't have any Indian friends, and he reads a story about an boy from Punjab that wants to be the QB for Arizona State. Some editors will unconsciously reject this premise because it doesn't jive with what they think they know about Indian culture. Others will embrace the premise--all other things being equal--because they're charmed by the novelty. The point is, either way, it affects the biases of the editor, negatively or positively, but what it doesn't do, is fit right in. That's a bizarre privilege actually, to have the dominant cultural perspective to tell your story.

2. When I say white despair, this doesn't mean it doesn't actually exist or that it's homogeneous, or that it shouldn't be written about, it just means that so much solid, technically proficient writing these days comes down to paralysis, drugs, abuse + despair. Of course there's variations, but despair in its umbrella concept has become a hackneyed theme in fiction generally And statistically, that despair is overwhelmingly told from an upper middle class, educated, white perspective, so much so that I know some editors that sigh when they come across another story in that subgenre.

3. When you talk about Black despair or Asian-American despair, that's based on the assumption that we've already reached the cultural saturation point with that narrative where someone can just drop that term and everyone will know what you're talking about (the way they do when you say white despair), and we haven't reached that point yet, minority despair is still on some basic level different, ethnic, non-white, non-traditional, exotic, whatever post-Orientalist word fits, which is why there's so much overcompensation when non-white writers succeed.

4. I probably need an agent in my corner to fight some of these battles, and I'm not knocking an editor's taste because though profoundly subjective, and subject to immense bias, I know this is absolutely normal + I can't think of another process for evaluating manuscripts either. But race + culture, or what we think we know about those two factors, deeply affects how we evaluate manuscripts. We make a series of judgments + analyses based on our own experience with that cultural framework. And most editors think they're the smartest fuckers in the classroom (sometimes they are too), so they're not approaching manuscripts like "I'm looking to learn something." I remember one classmate in one of my workshops telling me that it was absurd to have a black character speaking in ebonics + then making a reference to the Great Gatsby. To me, this isn't inconsistent because I have friends that do shit like that, but to him it was unrealistic: either you were educated, in which case, you sounded educated (read: young sounded white, a perception that still exists in black culture), or you weren't educated, in which case you sounded uneducated (read: non-white). Now my classmate isn't racist at all, but you can see the implication there a mile away. And there are a thousand of them, most of them, unconscious.

5. I do think my manuscripts get rejected for technical reasons, or for reasons of taste. I have no doubt about that either. But it's not absurd at all to wonder when race + culture play a factor in the evaluation of manuscripts, because inevitably they will--albeit unconsciously--even in the example you gave, where maybe an editor says, this is well written, but I don't know what to make of this story, or it's a cultural point of view that I can't relate with, or it's once I don't understand, so I'll reject it but give the author some nice words. In that example, the editor isn't holding the cultural point of view against me, and yet because it's one he's not very familiar with, it's still getting in the way of his evaluation. That's usually all it has to be, and usually that's enough to stain a submission. Really, that's all I'm saying. And you're right, white despair isn't necessarily the common narrative in journals right now (at least not the ones that get published), nor is it homogenous, but it's very very common thematically in stories, and I think it fluctuates in journals. Julianna Baggot was telling me months ago how many stories she gets at FSU each year for their PhD + MFA programs that take place at parties, with lots of drunk, white kids going through their own paralysis + despair.

And even the really good Benjamin Percy stories have lots of white kids beating the shit out of each other, often to feel alive again. What I do see are a lot of very competent workshop stories, most of which don't affect the reader in anyway, and most of these stories are by white writers (which follows vocation trends), and we can take that narrative for granted in a way that's just not possible for non-white narratives right now. That, in a nutshell, is what I'm getting at.

6. As someone who reads manuscripts himself (or least used to), I try to evaluate manuscripts according to their literary merit to the BEST OF MY ABILITY, but I'm blinded by what I know and don't know and by what I think I know and don't know. We all are. And the culture narrative of non-white writers are files in editor's brains, not real life experiences for them, which affects their ability to understand and even engage writing that doesn't feel familiar to them. Many editors pass on stories they just don't "get" for whatever reason, and the point is, when you're talking about class, inevitably you're talking about race since there's a relationship between class, culture, economics and race, and the vast majority of editors tend to be of the same race, class and culture as the writers submitting those stories (i.e. white). It's changing slowly, but that's still the reality. That's why there are organizations like Cave Canem and Vona, to support writers that bring different experiences + different cultural tools to their narrative. So, whether race/culture becomes an advantage for a writer who happens to write in a so-called "exotic" narrative compared to the dominant cultural (and therefore, socioeconomic, racial) paradigm, or whether it becomes an obstacle to being published, ultimately the point is, either way, this affects the way a writer's ability to get his story (read: his cultural narrative) published, read + disseminated.

6.5 Another thing, which sounds argumentative but isn't: the fact is, most white writers don't think race has anything to do with getting published, because the truth is, for them, it doesn't: they're allowed to believe that their manuscripts are being evaluated solely on literary merit alone because they belong to the dominant cultural paradigm where their race ceases to be a factor and literary merit becomes the yardstick, but many times non-white writers don't have that privilege, their class affects their narrative, their narrative sticks out as being non-traditional, and they don't get that privilege of being just artists. It's changing, but that privilege isn't there yet for them. Their race becomes a negative and positive factor. It's like, when you're part of a sea of other writers, most of them, sharing the same socioeconomic + racial background as you, it's easy to feel that the reading of submissions is a technical process, based exclusively on literary merit, judged almost in a vacuum, but that's not it. It's a question of taste, and some editors like narratives they're not familiar with, and others don't, but we read stories contextually, and when that context is less familiar, it affects our analysis of it. But whether the results are good or bad, in neither circumstance will that manuscript be read exclusively as just another story. That's a weird privilege, but one that non-white writers don't have.

7. One of the real problems is this: the average reader for a university-affiliated literary journal is a twenty-something, upper middle class white student, until recently, usually male, with less life experience and more cynicism than a world-weary editor, and what do these fuckers know about almost anything? Most of them have been in school for most of the lives, and race is an abstract entity, a topic in a classroom discussion, but the world isn't a college campus. Not only do many of these readers not know shit about publishing since few are published, but many don't know shit about different cultural perspectives. And these deficiencies will absolutely affect how a manuscript is read. Anyway, that's all I'm saying.

8. In response to your question: yeah, you're probably right. An agent won't even bother with anything except the glossies + the top-tier journals. But, for many writers, they won't get an agent until they've published something in a second (or if they're lucky) first-tier journal, that's the rub. Journals like Nimrod you have to do it all by yourself. But obviously when you're talking about The Paris Review, I honestly think that the odds are absolutely miserable for talented unknown writers. Agents won't guarantee that our shit is accepted, but they clearly make the process easier. I have one friend who accomplished almost all of his big publications after snagging an agent. It's astonishing, but not surprising.

9. I think the question of race + ethnic voices in fiction works both ways in terms of its appeal: some readers will notice your story more because the voice uses a different cultural narrative, but they are also more likely to treat that voice as a construct, or judge the verisimilitude based on much more limited personal experience (e.g. A Chinese person would never say that!). Also, being different with short stories changes the standards. When your story uses a different voice, you have to answer the question why, a question that traditional white narratives never have to answer. No one says, why are you writing about a boy living in the city who parents are getting divorced, but the question will be used ad nauseum when someone submits a story about a black intellectual that likes opera. I promise you, if that story was about a white dude from Princeton, New Jersey, that question would never be asked. Beyond that, our relationship with exotic narratives is superficial: it can't/won't last, especially since so much of it is based on what it is that we don't recognize, so the instant this so-called exotic narrative starts to feel familiar in any way (i.e. there are normal human issues going on), non-traditional narratives lose their exotica. Beyond that, some of the stuff I'm submitting right now isn't the standard traditional narrative (i.e. stories told from the POV of a Chinese-American graffiti artist), and many readers + editors aren't going to "get it," which isn't a type of discrimination exactly, but they will end up rejecting what they don't get, so the end result is the same, and since what we "get" depends on what we think we know, it would take an exceptional editor to accept the stuff I'm submitting right now, and yet, it's what I'm most interested in writing. It's not about being a good writer, it's just that many editors wait--consciously or unconsciously--until a trend has been formed for them to be audacious: when the Latino or the South Asian voice becomes a popular narrative, then suddenly, stories with that voice will start popping up all over the place. But it's not like Desi writers weren't submitting short stories before Jhumpa Lahiri, we just didn't see them.

10. There's way too many 20-something readers who frankly just don't know shit about writing or publishing, and they're the front line of university journals. Meanwhile, many of the editors will publish stories that they can, on some basic level, already recognize, and you can see why this can be a problem for writers using so-called ethnic voices. It's changing, but never fast enough. Culture is always a light year ahead of publishing.

Chat with Nina Revoyr

2010-03-01T16:10:00.000-08:00

A few of my friends from the Flying Fists Collective + I met Nina Revoyr today, the author of the socially-conscious, historical literary novels Southland + the Age of Dreaming. She gave a short talk at SC about her own writing process, how intensely she researches the historical background of her novels, her own opinion about MFA programs, the politics of publishing with a big publishing company v. a small one, the double-edged sword of being a writer of color (even if not phenotypically so), her own policy of characterization + how much she lets her characters breathe on their own, the challenges she has faced as a biracial, gay, female Asian-American literary fiction writer.

Among some of the things she said, which resonated, particularly with me:

1. California is a place of forgetting. People come here to start a new life, which is its own cultural amnesia + the problem with that is that people lose sight not only of their history, but of California's history, which is just as rich

2. She doesn't like to do too much research until she's already written a draft first. Otherwise, she'll feel compelled to use everything she discovered during her research, even if it doesn't quite work within the framework of the book. Where she + I differ on this point, is that she described historical accuracy as a sort of ceiling that her characters don't trespass. And while I respect that, I don't think history has to be a ceiling unless a writer is writing historical fiction, + even then, so much of what I find personally compelling in fiction are things that are historically specious, that is, persuasive, convincing (even logical) narratives that aren't actually true. Personally, I wouldn't want that barrier. Or said another way, I cross back + forth across the boundaries of versimilitude like a motherfucker

3. The internet has the ability to kill inspiration. Since so much of the impetus for her (+ writers like me) is often in the questions we pose to ourselves, not having an answer often pushes us to create something that makes sense to us creatively, even if it's not true. But now it's possible to verify so much information + mystery, which is often so helpful as a muse, can get lost in the information highway

4. Writers should have the freedom to make mistakes, especially in their first draft. The revision process is where you come down to earth + start to get your shit together. To me, that's just like starting a foreign language. In the beginning, you just want students to speak. Once they've gained confidence + linguistic ability, then you start teaching them various tenses, idioms + conjugating, fine-tuning their grammar in the process

5. Don't listen to the noise. Write the things that matter personally to you. If your writing feels like a job, then you're not writing about what really interests you. It should be work, a lot of fucking work, but it shouldn't feel like it

Tin House, Heidi Durrow + the Bellwether Prize

2010-02-18T16:07:00.000-08:00

1. Tin House is pissing me off right now. No, it's true + I'm not afraid to say it, even if I do love the journal. I'm not even talking about the fact that unsolicited fiction goes to PDX and agented fiction goes to NYC--what is this? Fiction apartheid? Anyway, that's a different topic all together. No, what's pissing me off right now about Tin House is that I sent them one of my best stories, "Neologism." This is the story that got me into USC's PhD program in Lit + Creative Writing (almost accepted at FSU), the same story that a fiction editor from the Iowa Review told me he really enjoyed reading + that the managing editor of One Story admired very much. So empirically, I know that story rocks (i.e., it's not just me who thinks it's an awesome story). But that's not even what's pissing me off. "Neologism" is one of my favorite stories because it deals with class, race + love in SoCal, a topic + focus that just isn't dealt with that much. And sure enough, 2-3 months after I sent them my manuscript, I look at Tin House's website, and they have a call to submissions for stories dealing with class. And I gotta admit: I started thinking, all right, maybe this is the perfect break I've been looking for; one of my best stories submitted at a major literary journal that is asking for the very theme I wrote about in my manuscript. For a second, I thought, maybe this is the conspiracy of success every writer needs to break through. Maybe, just maybe, I thought, this is gonna be it.

Then, I get my rejection a few days ago + not even a good rejection. The same form rejection I get everytime from them. And the crazy thing is: the idea for "Neologism" I got from reading an Aimee Bender story in Tin House back in 2007 about two girls that go to the mall. Now, I could never write Aimee Bender the way Aimee Bender writers Aimee Bender. I love her writing + her voice is beautiful, touching + untouchable that way. But the idea, the setup, an aspect of my voice, all of that was directly inspired from reading one of her stories in Tin House + Tin House doesn't even consider my story for whatever reason, and it's a story that deals with white privilege, high school bullies + racism in Southern California. I don't fucking get it! I know this sounds like sour grapes, but it's a great story. Why can't Tin House pick jewels out of the rough? Why do I harbor such irrational hope in that journal when everyone knows that most of the shit they publish is agented fiction? Why did I think they would be different?

2. The bad news kept coming this week. After attending Heidi Durrow's reading of her debut novel, The Girl Who Fell from the Sky at Skylight Books (which was one of the best fiction readings I've attended in years--more on that later), I told her I'd entered BLANK in the Bellwether Prize + she asked me if I was a finalist + I told her I didn't know because I hadn't heard anything yet. And when I got outside, I went to the web page of the Bellwether Prize + there were the titles that had made it to the shortlist + BLANK wasn't one of them. God, I was so bummed. Again, why did I think BLANK would be a finalist? Because I think that every time I enter a contest. I wouldn't enter a contest that I honestly thought I didn't have a chance of winning. Otherwise, it's just a donation. But it's funny, I had this feeling after talking to Heidi at the booksigning table, a feeling I know very well of things having been decided, and not in my favor. I could just feel it inside. But ironically, she'd wished me luck with the prize inside my copy of her novel + then once I was walking to the subway, I looked up the results + I was pretty damn sad.

I'm still waiting to hear from the Bakeless Prize though. + if BLANK doesn't win--+ I'm not expecting it to though I believe it's as worthy as the other novels--I'll send it to some of the better indie presses like SoHo, Graywolf, Soft Skull, maybe even FC2, though it's not heterdox enough for them I imagine, and see what happens.

3. Strangely enough, seeing Heidi Durrow read her novel (that won the 2008 Bellwether Prize) gave me hope. For one thing, like I said before, I thought her reading was fantastic. She had a command of her delivery, had memorized much of the text, which allowed her to make eye contact with the audience + she was charismatic, charming, smart + funny. I'm happy she won the prize in 2008. It made me happy + gave me hope to see an emerging writer break out into the publishing sky, something I hope to do some day.

After chatting with her for a second before her reading + then asking her a question about Nella Larsen + passing + biracial identitification in the Q + A, I waited in line to get her to sign my copy of The Girl Who Fell from the Sky, and when I finally made it to the table, she smiled, hit her palms on the table + said:

--Who are you? Laughing.

I have to say, I really enjoyed talking with her + I thought her reading was awesome. Leaving Skylight, before I looked up the results of the contest, I felt two distinct things:

One, good things do happen to good people (which is profoundly reassuring). They just have to persevere + keep writing + editing + putting themselves out there. Eventually, reality colludes to help that writer make it if s/he has what it takes to deal with the constant rejection (hello Tin House!).

Two, with all due respect, I also left the bookstore feeling like more than ever, I can do this. I don't know how much work is ahead of me (doesn't matter cuz I'll do it), but I can live my dream of being a great literary fiction writer, just like Heidi Durrow, just like all authors that are obscure before the clouds open up for them. + I just have to keep working for that day. It'll happen, I just don't know when yet. So until then, I fight on because that's how I do. I never give up on the things I love + there's nothing I love more than writing (except people + love itself)

Man in a Red Suit: Another Chat with TC Boyle

2010-02-13T16:05:00.000-08:00

I had to stop by TC Boyle’s office today to pick up a recommendation he wrote for me (actually, he offered to write it before I could ask him) for the Princeton in Ishikawa program I’m applying to this coming summer to study Japanese. It was as good of a pretext as any to chat with him. So, we kicked it for a little while + just talked. He was wearing an Irish beret that made him look like a beat poet.

—Ça va? I asked.
—Ça va. He said.

Here are some of the highlights of our chat:

1. Perhaps the biggest deal for me: I told TCB that I had finally got one of my stories accepted in a literary journal he’s been published in.

—Oh, the Mississippi Review? He asked.
—No, I said, pausing for effect, Fiction.
—Oh, wow. Then you’ve arrived. That’s a great journal.

When TC Boyle tells you you’ve arrived as a fiction writer, you have to take that moment + stuff it down your throat + swallow it whole. It may never come again.

2. One of my favorite lines from Tom this month was the following. He said: We need to get published from time to time to be reminded of our greatness. It helps us through the tough times. Then I said: Well, I think you get reminded a little more than I do. Try all the fucking time, man.

3. For reasons that totally come from my own insecurity (which comes from a fear of obscurity), I sort of love the way that TC Boyle talks about my publishing future like it’s inevitable. It’s really encouraging, I guess. He says things like: Jackson, when you publish a collection of short stories, you’ll start to read reviews where one critic likes these stories but not those stories. And then another critic will hate the same stories the other critic loved and loved the stories that the first critic hated. And you won’t know what to think. Anyway, if he’s right—and statistics suggest TC Boyle knows what he’s talking about when he talks about writing—I will gladly take on that sort of ambivalent critical perception of my own writing. That ambivalence will be a privilege.

4. I told TCB something that is old news in this blog but something I’ve never told him myself. I explained how I’m just sick of the team-playing fiction writers who want to write things that are thematically safe, technically competent and basically inoffensive and apolitical, but that don’t matter in a deeper cultural sense. I’m sick of these writers, many of them with tenure (something I want very badly, as ironic/hypocritical as that is) that become domesticated by academia and department meetings. They’re just a little too comfortable in their day job, they stop suffering, their aspirations + critiques become very bourgeois + very local, many of these people, competent writers with competent novels who have learned to be likeable, all-around good guys + masters of workshop reality.

—Where do you find these guys? Tom asked.
—At AWP, I said.
—I don’t go, he said.
—I guess what I’m saying, I said, is that I want writers to take on big issues and I want them to take huge risks. I want the writing to matter. I want it to last. I don’t want the writers to worry about whether people like them or not. I want writers to write things that have significance, that make a statement about our culture, that provoke discussion.

TCB nodded a little bit. For a second, I think he was feeling me.

5. Tom confessed to me that he was a bit weary (or at least exhausted) of his insane schedule of writing, touring + teaching. I told him that some of us came to USC just to work with him. He said he knows + he likes that his teaching gig forces him out of his Frank Lloyd Wright house. Plus, he enjoys talking with smart people about writing, something he’s passionate about.

6. TCB admitted that he almost never reads reviews of his work, especially negative criticism. He said some critics really can’t stand that he’s having the time of his life writing.

Besides, he said: —Why read the bad stuff when there’s so much positive stuff out there? When you’re TC Boyle, you can say that + get away with it. But for many of us, we don’t get reviews + the bad shit might be the only stuff we can get.

7. After a pause in our conversation, I said:

—Nice NPR interview, referring to his recent interview with Tom Ashbrook.
—Which one? He asked.
That’s when you know you’ve made it, when you have too many NPR interviews to keep track of.
—And you didn't even see me in my red suit, he said.

As it turns out, TC Boyle has been wearing a red suit to his readings on his book tour for The Women. It's not a Frank Lloyd Wright cape, but it'll do I guess.

Conversation with Percival Everett: Politics in Writing

2010-02-05T16:02:00.000-08:00

Percival Everett asked me what I hoped to do with my writing. After some thought, I replied: --I want to turn my reader on. I want to inspire, encourage + provoke.

He seemed to like that answer because he went back to it later on in our discussion of fiction. But when I lamented to Percival that writers aren't allowed to have politics in their novels (unless they're European or genre writers), at least not without being brandished as polemical or tendentious, he said: --Jackson, I wouldn't worry about that. The fact is, your politics will come out in your writing, whether you mean to or not.

I really like that answer. But is it true? Possibly. But what about all of the apolitical, vaguely-left-leaning literary fiction writers in America who don't have salient political opinions for the simple reason that they aren't interested, can't keep up with, or don't want to deal with politics at all? Is it because they're apolitical that there's nothing to come out in their writing? I mean, if you don't really know what the fuck is happening in Darfur, or you're not keeping up with the civilian death toll in Iraq, or you routinely avoid the World News section in the New York Times, then it seems very possible that you may have no politics at all--a quintessentially American attribute, as it turns out--and maybe, for that reason, you politics can't come to the surface in your writing for the simple reason that you don't have any to begin with.

So, maybe Percival is right: if you have politics in mind, they inevitably come out. But if you don't, they don't. This leads to the question: considering how apolitical most American literary fiction is, how far removed + disconnected are fiction writers from the material, social + political realms?

Rejections, Meet Undaunted Writer

2010-01-15T15:59:00.000-08:00

I'm not gonna pretend I wasn't disappointed with my recent rash of rejections from the Indiana Review, Ploughshares, One Story, Crazyhorse, New South, Colorado Review + the Calvino Prize where I wasn't even a finalist (ah yes, licking my wounds from that one).

But yo, rejection is the name of the game in this industry. Rejection is the rule + acceptance is always the beautiful exception. We all know that. And since I still have other manuscripts on the burner, really, it doesn't get me down too much. Sure, I get snarly + pissed off sometimes. I frequently tell fiction readers + editors to fuck off out loud when I get rejections, but I also know it's not personal. People are controlled by both aesthetic preferences + taste. We pretend it's about literary merit, but mostly it's about what we like.

Anyway, to appropriate SC's slogan, I'm gonna fight on motherfuckers. I'm a talented writer like thousands of other fiction writers in this country, but I'm also fiercely determined. Stubborn too. And I'm just gonna keep on writing, submitting, revising. Though I only got 3 stories accepted in 2009, they were also my best pick-ups since I started submitting short stories to journals. And recent submissions to the Missouri Review, Quarterly West, BOMB, Witness, Alaska Quarterly Review, Quarter Past 8, Mid-American Review, Threepenny Review, Black Warrior Review, North American Review + Harper's helps keep the faith alive. I write big, I dream big + I submit big. And every now + then, these three worlds converge for a brief moment.

Rejections, come again, son. I remain battle-tested + undaunted by you.

Competition Delays, FSG Rejection + Cold Queries

2009-12-22T15:56:00.000-08:00

FSG: A few days ago I got a form rejection letter from Farrar, Straus + Giroux, which, I have to admit, was a bummer. I fucking love that publishing house + I thought that BLANK would be a great fit, with its ambitious, edgy, urban, slightly conceptual, character-based thing it has going on. But this was through the slush pile, so I'm not that surprised really. So much good writing (and bad writing, for that matter) suffocates in that paper avalanche. With the right agent (that is, a great agent), all the rules get changed.

Italo Calvino Contest: I checked the date of the notification for the Calvino Prize. It was 15 December. I sighed. I didn't win it. I wasn't even a finalist. But then I read on the University of Louisville's website that there was a delay: the winner hadn't been announced yet. So, it's still a long shot. But there's still hope + I can live on just hope + fresh water for weeks.

Phoebe Larmore: Today, after psyching myself out for months, I made a cold call to Phoebe Larmore's office. I got her voice mail + left a message like a good mensch. Insanely, she called me back five minutes later and we chatted for around six minutes. I liked her immediately: her voice was calm + soothing. And though one of the most successful literary agents, she was very sympathetic, smart + honest with me. Here are a few things she said:

1. Her only two clients are Margaret Atwood and Tom Robbins (gulp)

2. She has only has two clients because that's how she prefers it.

3. She encouraged me to check out Writer's Digest + look at the agent section

4. Perhaps, most beautiful + sincere, she said: Jackson, I hope you will remember to always write from the deepest part of your soul.

I promised her I would.

Then, she said she would be looking out for my writing in the future.

Please do, I said.

I'm a huge fan, Phoebe Larmore. Even bigger than before.

3rd Story Accepted in 2009

2009-12-13T15:46:00.000-08:00

I was at this café in Hollywood, waiting for my friend Emily (who is a fantastic writer and classmate of mine at SC) to come back from the bathroom, when I noticed on my iPhone that I had a new email. I opened it up and it said:

Dear Jackson,

I'm happy to let you know that your story "The Great Fall" has been accepted for publication with Fiction. When you have a moment, please acknowledge this email, and send a copy of the story as a pdf. Thank you, and congratulations,

--Steve

Fiction Magazine? What? Seriously? "The Great Fall," in case you're wondering, is actually a self-contained chapter from my first novel BLANK.

The truth is, I never saw this one coming. I think Fiction is one of the top 10 literary journals in the US, and not just because Donald Barthelme helped found it. Okay, partially because of that. Even so, I'm stunned. Sure, after sending them 2 experimental stories in 2008 that the two editors seemed to like, I began to send them a new story every 6-8 months, addressing my submissions specifically to them at their request. But, I never actually knew if I'd publish a story with them or not. This is fucking rad. I guess persistence does pay off. Let this be a moment of inspiration for all of us writers: don't give up + keep submitting your stories! Someday, it will get accepted.

2nd Story Accepted in 2009

2009-11-25T15:44:00.000-08:00

It's official! I finally got my first short story accepted by a west coast literary journal! I got my contract in the mail today from Howard Junker + just found out that my short story, "Sixty-Seven Dollars for My Favorite Dictator," about a crazy + wonderful Peruvian family in Chicago, is going to be published in the Spring issue of ZYZZYVA . The beautiful thing is, I just sent HJ that story last week. But in all fairness, I'd workshopped it in Aimee Bender's class + then revised it several times. But still, how rad is that?

I've been submitting stories to ZYZZYVA since I first heard of it in Portland, Oregon in late 2002 where the journal still has quite a following--it's one of the best journals in the West Coast + just in general. I'm pretty sure the first thing I submitted was a very drafty version of "City of Sand" years before it was ready for print + was sad when HJ didn't write any feedback on my rejection letter. The rumor used to be that Howard Junker commented on every story, which the rejection note even commented on. Later on, I'd cheat and send ZYZZYVA stories every Christmas I was with my mom in Solana Beach for a month (since the journal only accepts writing by West Coast writers). Anyway, seven years later, now that I'm living in LA + working on my PhD + working with amazing writers + building my weight up, so to speak, I finally got a story accepted, sent in good faith, of all things. Ah, perseverance + karma: that cosmic cocktail. Anyway, be on the lookout for my story, coming achew in the Spring. Holla!

Isabel Allende Reading

2009-11-17T15:42:00.000-08:00

LB + I went to Isabel Allende's reading at SC tonight + I have to say that she was everything I had ever hoped for in an author. By that I mean she was:

1. Engagée
2. Passionate
3. Political in the service of humanity
4. Smart + strong
5. Deeply human, vulnerable + personal
6. Moving
7. Intriguing
8. Unapologetic
9. Openly self-critical + playful
10. Inspiring

In a world filled to capacity with team-playing fiction writers who mostly work at universities as tenured faculty, it was such a relief, such an extraordinary pleasure to listen to a famous writer speak boldly about what is most beautiful + most troubling in this world. She was critical, spunky, powerful, delightful, honest, inspiring, emotional at times but also so deeply human--Isabel Allende was everything that literary fiction writers aren't, can't + don't want to be + that's why I fucking adored her. She was a writer not living nor obsessed with the writerly world. She was free, the very opposite of diplomatic or glib. It was like she was channeling the spirits of her family into her words. It was part reading, part exorcism.

There's still hope for us. . .

Four Perfect Moments This Week

2009-10-30T15:40:00.000-07:00

This week, I had at least Four perfect moments as a writer:

1. I spent some time with TC Boyle on Monday where we talked about "Hipster Nirvana," a story of mine I gave him to critique that had been giving problems since I wrote it last year in Buenos Aires. Granted, I've revised + edited the shit out of it a million times since that first draft, + it's in much better shape than it was six months ago, but still, there can't be a better moment for any writer than when TC Boyle tells another one of this his students that you're a fine writer, or even better, when TC Boyle wrote in his critique that your story had moments of transcendent beauty. WTF? Are you serious? Did I just hear that right? Transcendent beauty? Shit, I'll fucking take that.

2. Kicking it in Aimee Bender's office listening to a recording of Flannery O'Connor read her story "A Good Man is Hard to Find." Something about that moment, the intense richness of O'Connor's voice + accent, Aimee Bender opening up her office to me + some other students, simply sharing the experience together, right before workshop. It was magical somehow

3. Kicking it with Keith at Astroburger where I ate one of the best vegan rib sandwiches + fries I've had in a long time, talking about black narratology, hip-hop, LA + girls. Also, we finally decided on a handshake--yo, that's important stuff man. How else are you gonna know how to greet your friends?

4. Discovering the Notorious B.I.G.'s "Ready to Die" only 15 years after it came out. Fuck, this is an amazing album. Hip-Hop doesn't get smoother/smarter/grittier/more real than this. I don't appreciate some of the misogyny, machismo + gun worship, but this album as a whole is fucking awesome. And don't take my wrod for it, TIME magazine rated "Ready to Die" one of the 100 most important albums of all time. By the time the glossies know what's up, this automatically makes something 10 years old . . .