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The Interview

We have spent hours listening to our favorite artists take part in interviews that feel like you’re sitting right there in the room with them, as the rest of the world melts away and, for a moment, everything feels clearer. A good interview is another piece of literature in its own right.

That’s the feeling we’d like offer our readers as they experience your work. An interview helps unlock what even an astute reader might miss, and also carries us past the story or essay itself—into the mind and heart of the one that conjured it. Ultimately, we want to publish writers, not just what they’ve written.

Your name

Piece we're publishing:

Tell us your origin story as a writer. When did you begin? What first drew you to writing as an instrument for asking questions that can’t be explored any other way?

What does your writing routine look like? Do you thrive in structure or wilderness? And when you begin a piece of writing, what tends to announce itself first: a voice, an image, an unease, a philosophical question? And which of these beginnings destabilize you in the most productive way?

Most artists are preoccupied by certain obsessions: lust, longing, death, the self. What persistent preoccupation—emotional, intellectual, or spiritual—threads through your work? Are there motifs, themes, or impulses you’ve tried to abandon but that keep returning, insisting on their relevance?

Every piece of writing has an underground logic—a desire, a contradiction, a wound trying to articulate itself. When you consider the piece you’ve published with us, what do you sense was unfolding beneath the surface of the narrative?

Who are the artists—writers, filmmakers, thinkers, internet oddities—that have shaped your sense of narrative? How have they rearranged the way you see the world on the page?

Please recommend a piece of art (a painting, a film, an album) that you love and would like everyone to experience.

What are you working on now and how is it trying to ruin your life (in a good, necessary way, of course)? OR What are you working on now, and how is it reshaping (or unsettling) your sense of yourself as a writer?

What’s the best piece of writing advice you’ve ever received? Alternatively/Additionally, what’s something you’d like to offer as advice to emerging writers trying to make a mark?

Do you have a superstition or ritual, something that feels a little strange or embarrassing to admit?

What’s a writing “rule” that you regularly break, intentionally or accidentally?

What’s the hardest part of writing for you these days—and what’s the part that still feels like play?

If you could erase one anxiety or expectation from the writing world, what would it be?

Where does your writing lean toward memory, and where does it lean toward invention—and how do you know the difference?