We got in touch with the two co-editors over at Leaf Garden Press to discuss the way the website as well as the people who run it function. Melanie Browne and Robert Henry, the two co-editors, also write in addition to running the literary journal. They each have had a substantial amount of work published and their website continues to flourish. No pun intended.

– – – – –

Five Fishes: Being a writer and an editor at the same time can be a pretty heavy load. What are the differences in pleasure that you get in having your own work published versus publishing the work of others?

Melanie Browne: I have a sense of pride in the stories and poems we publish. I think it’s a lot of fun to see their work come to life online. We try to pass on compliments we get on the work  along  to the writers. They earned it. We let them know.

As far as my own work, I have to work pretty hard. I get a lot of rejections also, along with some acceptances, and submitting can be a time-consuming process as well.

Robert Henry: Publishing the work of others seems like it matters a lot more than having my own work published. I’m not sure if this is because I don’t really write about anything, or because it’s a lot easier to be objective about other people’s art. The biggest difference is that I tend to still enjoy their work by the time we’ve published it in Leaf Garden. I think the actual process of writing is much more important than getting published, but once something is finished, what else is there to do with it besides eventually ship it off to someone’s inbox or set it on fire? (I do both.)

F.F.: Is there any sense of competition there?

M.B.: Not really. There are so many talented writers in the world. I enjoy writing  and I know others do too, for the same or different reasons.

F.F.: When and how did you start up your own literary journal?

R.H.: It was towards the end of 2008 when I became interested in publishing (again.) At the same time I remember watching this movie about a social experiment. This experiment was a record label that allowed the artists to have complete control over their music. I really liked that, and I thought I could apply it to literature. A friend and I designed a hand-bound collection, but he flaked on this project before distribution.

So, I started looking for someone to help me try again. I guess I’m obsessed with books but prone to false starts. A few months later, I remember e-mailing Melanie (a stranger at the time) a poem in response to one of her poems. We’ve been friends since, and then everything kind of started to fall into place with Leaf Garden.

F.F.: How does the co-editing process work? I mean, how do you two split up and share the responsibilities and duties that come along with the job?

M.B.: We both read and accept and reject. Robert is younger than I am, so he might be up at 2 am reading submissions. We work as one mind, which is unusual. We agree on almost everything. Occasionally he likes something I’m neutral on, or vice-versa, but we trust each other’s judgement.

R.H.:

We’re not very organized about splitting up the work. In general, we both handle submissions, often discussing them. Sometimes we “go rogue” and accept and reject on our own. We rarely disagree on things, though. This freedom as co-editors allows the journal to remain more eclectic, which is really important for me. Even if Melanie accepts work I’m not too keen on, it has my support. I know she has good tastes.

I handle all the technical junk like the website and the designing of the issues and books. Essentially, I’m the maintenance guy on top of being a co-editor.

F.F.: Do either of you ever want to fire the other? Be honest now.

R.H.: Hah. No. As much as I like publishing people’s work, the friendship with Melanie Browne is honestly the best part about co-editing the journal. If there’s a point where she needs to stop being co-editor, I’ll probably never find another co-editor that I get along with so well.

M.B.: Yes, or vice-versa, we get into tiffs now and again. I wouldn’t call them arguments, just misunderstandings. It can be a challenge to communicate everything online.

F.F.: What advice would you give to other writers about time management?

M.B.: Writing is hard work, and even if it isn’t how you earn a living, you are essentially working two jobs if you are a writer. Sometimes you just have to be lazy too. Watch VH1.

F.F.: If Robert Frost and William Carlos Williams both (somehow) submitted work to your journal and you were only able to publish one of the two, who would you choose?

M.B.: I guess  William Carlos Williams because I like chickens and wheelbarrows.

R.H.: I’d reject both. I don’t put up with ultimatums. So if you talk to them, tell them I said, “Nyeh.”

F.F.: Lastly, what inspired you to start writing in the first place?

M.B.: I originally kept a blog on Myspace, as a way to express myself. Then I was introduced to some poet friends, and I gave poetry a try.

R.H.: I wanted to start a revolution. Actually, I don’t know. There was no defining moment where I said, “Oh, I’m going to be a writer.” I never felt like I had an important purpose or story to tell. I just started writing very young. I was/am the type of kid that just sang/sings random words, and it seemed like these things should be on paper. I think instead of imaginary friends, I had pieces of paper. I remember the first time I read Hatchet by Gary Paulsen when people ask me this question. It was the first book I read that really blew my mind with some of its implications about being a human being. I think this book led to my first attempts at writing fiction. I was an impressionable ten-year-old boy, but I’m still in love with that book. It used to seem important to leave behind some kind of legacy. Maybe that’s it?

– – – – –

Five Fishes wants to gratefully thank both Melanie Browne and Robert Henry for doing this interview. I really enjoyed asking these two fine folks about their passions, and I admit that I giggled at some of their responses. A good insight into the lives of both editors and writers, right? Right. Be sure to check out Leaf Garden Press when you get the chance, too.

– C.J.

Five Fishes got a hold of Nin Andrews, author of several books of poetry including Southern Comfort, for an interview. Andrews’ poems have appeared in Ploughshares, The Paris Review, and Best American Poetry. Be sure to check out her book published by Cavan Kerry Press, Southern Comfort.

– – – – –

Five Fishes: The Grandmother mentioned throughout your book of poetry, Southern Comfort, seems very real. Is her character influenced by your own grandmother?

Nin Andrews: Yes and no.  The grandmother is a combination of two women who were like grandmothers to me.   One of these women died when I was seven, and she sang all the time.  When she passed away, I felt as if all the music was vacuumed out of my life.  Even the hours became hollow and clear, sort of like blown glass with no light passing through them.     My parents didn’t tell me she had died until long after the fact, but I knew she was gone.    The other woman died when I was older, but she had a stroke and lingered for a while. She was a great storyteller, and when she told a tale, I believed every word she said.

F.F.: What about the father?

N.A.: The father is my father in most of the poems.  Again, there are poems in the book where I tell of my friend’s father or my uncle as if they were my father.  But my own father was a wonderful storyteller.  He rarely told the same story the same way twice.  He was a southern man to the core.  I still love the smell (not the taste) of whiskey.  It reminds me of him.

F.F.: How did your life in the south influence your writing and your writing style?

N.A.: I think the southern accent and style of telling stories was an influence on this book. I can still hear certain southern voices from my past in my head when I sit down to write. I feel a kind of twang and sadness in my memories now, a little like comfort food but with too much salt and ache.

F.F.: Some of your poems resemble short stories in terms of both shape and style. What inspired you to write that way?

N.A.: I just write the way I hear things or experience them.

I guess I would like to imagine that the subject matter demands its own form or lack thereof.  If I am trying to transcribe a Zen moment when I suddenly feel present, alive, inspired, I don’t want a lot of text.  But when I hear a poem talking in my head, sometimes in the voice of myself as a child, sometimes in the voice of a grandmother or father or mother, I let it make demands.  Maybe it wants a certain rhythm, to pause here, break there. Maybe it wants the entire page, no line breaks, no pauses, no air, no second thoughts.

F.F: How do you decide whether to write that way or to incorporate shaping line breaks?

N.A.: I write what I write, guided by intuition.  Sometimes I want to emphasize the story in the poem, and other times, vice versa.  Sometimes I want to speed up the reader, and other times, slow her down.   Sometimes I want to control the reader.  But other times, I want the story to be the poem.

F.F: Many of your poems have a small town, southern voice and style about them. Do you think your writing career would have had the same success had you been raised in a big city?

N.A.: I don’t know if a small town childhood helped to make me successful. But I think the location of my childhood was an influence, yes.  I think the biggest influence was the boredom I experienced. I grew up on a farm, and we didn’t own a TV. I was allowed to have friends over twice a month.  Often I had nothing to do. I could read, write, dream, muck stalls, lead-train my calves, feed the chickens.  If anyone was talking, I would listen.  I became good at listening. Good at making up stories or retelling others’ stories.  Good at surviving the blank pages of my life.

F.F.: Did/does anyone else in your family write?

N.A.: No, no one else writes in my family.  Some of my sisters are very talented artists and one writes very well, but no one else actually tries to publish their writing.

F.F.: Here’s a curve ball. If you could sit down and have some iced tea with three American writers (living or dead), who would they be? And, almost as important, what flavor tea?

N.A.: Oh, I’d want to meet William Faulkner.  My folks knew him, and my sister took riding lessons at his daughter’s farm.  I know he was a terrible alcoholic and not very sociable, but I’d love to listen to him talk, read his work.  Then I wouldn’t mind meeting Eudora Welty. I saw her read once, and she read like Eudora on steroids.  She just whipped right through her stories.   I’d like to have tea with her, though I think she preferred a stiff drink.  And I’d like to meet Langston Hughes. Listen to him read some jazz poetry and some blues.

And the tea would have to be mint tea.  A nice orange pekoe tea with a sprig of fresh mint.

F.F.: Lastly, what are you working on at the moment and what’s on your agenda as a writer?

N.A.: I’m working on a few different projects.  I am working on a longer collection of poems called Dear Professor, which will expand on my chapbook of physics poems.  I am working on a collection of short-short stories about the farm I grew up on, poems which focus more on my mother.  And I am working on a collection of poems called The Accidental Seduction

– – – – –

I want to personally thank Nin Andrews for taking the time to do this interview with me, and I want to stress how much I enjoyed reading her work.

– C.J.

Five Fishes got a hold of David LaBounty to discuss his novel, Affluenza, which was reviewed by us here. David LaBounty is a fiction writer and a poet, and he’s from my hometown-area near Detroit. Give it up for Michigan writers! And be sure to check out this book, as it might change the way you think about money.

– – – – –

Five Fishes: Affluenza has a lot to say about the credit industry. What inspired this idea in the first place?

David LaBounty: I was listening to NPR while driving in the car. A professor from Harvard, I think, was being interviewed to promote her new book. I don’t remember her name or the name of the book but It was about the underhandedness of the credit industry and a few things resonated with me. She mentioned how the credit card companies want you to be late on your monthly bill so they can charge you late fees, there’ s big money in late fees. They do this by having you mail your bill on the opposite side of the country, to some little processing center in some off the wall kind of place. I checked my statements, it’s true! Also, they will move your due dates without telling you. Say you’ve had to pay your Visa bill on the 15th every month for a year, all of a sudden they change the date to the 10th without telling you and you don’t even notice as you habitually pay your bill on the 15th and voila, they got you with a thirty dollar late fee. The credit card companies also love it if you only make the minimum payment, they want you to send them money forever. And I thought, those bastards….. The book was borne from that interview. It was going to be more revenge oriented but as I wrote it that changed, I wanted to really illustrate the dangers of consumerism, how it can make one sick.

F.F.: Who did you model the main character after?

D.L.: Well, he’s based off of a lot of people, but no one in particualar. Charles Dash is an exaggeration, I don’t think any one is as selfish, vain, sexually addicted or cold-hearted as he is.I needed him to be a disgusting but believable character in order to make the book work
F.F.: While writing this novel, your third, did you have a clear idea of the ending or did you just wing it and write whatever felt right?
D.L.: I don’t work off of outlines or anything like that. I usually have an idea what the ending is going to be but the ending can change sometimes. I think starting to write a book without having some idea where it’s going to go is like starting a marathon without an end, tough to do and daunting.

F.F.: How much did living in Michigan affect the writing process for this book, apart from it being set here?

D.L.: That’s a good question. I had no setting when I first started writing the book. I just had Dash living in some anonymous suburb. Suburbs are kind of the same. I remember hearing an interview with Al Franken when he was still funny and not a politician. Someone asked him where he was from and he basically said it didn’t matter, that he was a suburban- American, just like any other suburban-American.

But I decided to set it in Michigan after all. I know Michigan the best as it is my home. Also Michigan seems to be the poster child for economic disaster, we are the best of the worst as far as bankruptcies, foreclosures, unemployment goes. It just seemed to be a natural setting, even if I wasn’t from Michigan.

F.F.: How often did you think of your own family while writing this novel?

D.L.: Not that much. I did think of the early part of my wife’s and I relationship and marriage but only from the aspect of how carefree it was as far as responsibilities go. We didn’t have responsibilities, really. Children do change that and I have two sons. Again, Dash’s family is an exaggeration. His wife Deidre is a soulless minivan driver and his kids are zombies who watch a lot of television. My own family isn’t like that at all. I don’t want to give too much of the book away but what Dash does to his own family towards the end made me nervous, as far as what kind of reaction my own wife would have upon reading it but she loved the book

F.F.: Affluenza, to me, seemed to have great potential for a movie. I pictured Edward Norton as the lead character. Who would you have cast for everyone?

D.L.: That’s funny, my wife has a crush on Edward Norton. She would love that. I never thought about it much but I would have to pick Russell Crowe for Dash. He easily plays a bad guy and he can almost morph into any role. I could see him as a slightly overweight bland guy in a suit. Deidre I don’t know, Marcia Gay Harden maybe, I don’t know. I’m not that much of a movie guy, I don’t watch them nearly enough.

F.F.: There is very little dialogue throughout the book. In fact, most of the words on the page are thoughts directly from the main character. Why did you choose to model the book this way?

D.L.: I wanted to expose the mind of Dash, his impressions of his family, culture and surroundings and the best way to do that was with a first person narrative. It also made him more believable. There wasn’t a lot of need for dialogue, in my opinion, to accomplish that.

F.F.: What have your experiences with insurance companies – like the one focused on throughout the book – been like in the past?

D.L.: You know, I haven’t had too much experience with insurance companies, good or bad. I had Dash work at an insurance company because it seemed understandable enough but I could have used any familiar corporate structure where the bottom line is everything, I really didn’t do any research as far as the workings of an insurance company goes. I just assumed it was like any other company. Keep all the dollars you can, and I had Dash serve as the guy in charge of denying claims, as claims eat the profits.

F.F.: What’s next for you as a writer?

D.L.: I have finished a fourth and fifth book. Both of them are completely different from Affluenza. I also write a lot of poetry and short fiction that is published from time to time. I feel very fortunate to have had the success I’ve had. Writing is tough, tough to get noticed, tougher still to get read by people other than your family or friends.

– – – – –

Five Fishes thanks David LaBounty lots for this interview. He’s a good guy, go ahead and look up some of his stuff. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

– C.J.

Five Fishes asked poet Randall Horton a few questions, and we decided we could post them up here for everyone to see. Randall is a Cave Canem Fellow and a professor at University of New Haven. He is also the editor of a couple journals of poetry. Take a look at his own book of poetry, The Lingua Franca of Ninth Street. It’s a good read. We even reviewed it right here on Five Fishes.

– – – – –

Five Fishes: So many of your poems in The Linga Franca of Ninth Street are set in a prison setting. What’s the story behind that?

Randall Horton:The story is that I spent almost five years in prison. However, I did not begin to write poetry until after my incarceration. In prison I was writing fiction and short essays. In some ways I like to think I am following in the tradition of someone like Etheridge Knight or Jimmy Santiago Baca. Prison forced me to become a writer because I had to deal with the silence in my head.

F.F.How much has the move from Alabama, to Washington, D.C., and finally Albany affected your work?

R.H.:Well, right now I have recently moved to New Haven, CT to teach at the University of New Haven. I have lived in many regions of the United States, yet I always bring Alabama with me. This place holds so much history and memory. It is the who of what I am. I learned early in life that one cannot outrun the past, so every place that I have lived I brought Alabama with me.

F.F.:What made you decide to replace the word “and” with its symbol?

R.H.:I actually begin doing the ampersand later on in my work. When I went to revise the manuscript The Lingua Franca of Ninth Street, which had been “completed,” I found out that in the revision process I was bringing a new attitude toward the work. The ampersand appears heavily in my new work, and I think this is sort of a bridge from the old to the new.

F.F.:One or two of your poems in this book mention the blues. How has that music genre impacted your life and your writing?

R.H.:I would say the lifestyle of the blues is what impacted my writing. I wasn’t necessarily listening to a lot of blues. However, I did grow up listening to the blues in my grandmothers bootleg house. The blues you hear of feel in these poems comes from a lived experience.

F.F.:How difficult is the time-management process of balancing dedication to your poetry editing and to your poetry writing? How does the one affect the other?

R.H.:Editing is just an extension of writing. In my opinion they go hand in hand. One cannot write without editing. In fact editing is more important than writing. This is where the real magic happens. I usually start of my day editing or reworking a piece of writing, and then I try and tackle something new. Usually in the editing, I am thinking about new ideas and new ways to approach poetry.

F.F.:Your poetry style is often very conversational; a chunk of language that could have been a re-written street conversation. Whose voices specifically have helped to shape this style?

R.H.:To be honest I like to think that I have my ear close to the streets. I remember Langston Hughes saying that he sees everything other people don’t see. I want to see what you don’t see. Even William Carlos Williams believed in the power of ordinary language. This is not to say that I don’t explored heighten language, it’s just that I don’t believe in alienation. Also, I tend to find a sort of beauty in “street conversation.” When I was small my grandmother had a juke-joint down south where an assortment of characters would come by and drink and party. The names and mannerisms has never left me. They often talked in coded metaphor and, in some small way, I like to think that is what I am doing in some of these poems. There were many voices that shaped the way I write thse kind of poems, too many to name. However, I remember them all in my inner ear. I never forget a colorful person or an interesting way in using language.

F.F.:Who are some poets that you’d suggest to readers of Five Fishes?

R.H.:Ed Roberson, Stephen Jonas, Eloise Loftin, Harriett Mullen, Carolyn Rogers, Angela Jackson, Tyehimba Jess, Antoinette Brim, Tara Betts, Curtis L. Crisler, Derrick Harriell, Sterling Plumpp, Pierre Joris, Brian Turner, Charles Stein, Barbara Jane-Reyes, Martin Espada, Thomas Sayers Ellis, Melanie Henderson, Truth Thomas. There are many more.

F.F.:How often do you have to force yourself to write? Or do you avoid that process entirely?

R.H.:I write every day. Remember: revision is a part of writing. Now everything I write I may not use, but I try and get something down every day in my journal.

F.F.:Are any of the specific characters or names used in your poems based on real-life folks?

R.H.:For this book: Blade, Pappy, Wolf, Pepper, Fella, Old School, Joe, Daquan, Sebastian, Lateff. I love names, and I look to incorporate ate them in my whenever I can.

– – – – –

For fans of real-life poetry, The Lingua Franca of Ninth Street is an exciting read. Check it out.

– C.J.

Five Fishes gathered together some questions for Michigan writer Jeff Vande Zande, who writes everything from poetry to fiction to screenplays. He has two novels out: Into the Desperate Country & Landscape with Fragmented Figures, and he is working on a third. He also has a handful of poetry collections published and available.

– – – – –

Five Fishes: Your novel, Into the Desperate Country, takes place in Michigan and mentions a whole slew of its cities and towns. Was this because of your home state obligation, because of Michigan’s suitability for the story, or a bit of both?

Jeff Vande Zande: Well, I know Michigan better than any other state, so it only makes sense to set my novel here. (My latest novel, Landscape with Fragmented Figures, and my forthcoming novella, Threatened Species, are also set in Michigan). This state has a great geography. Bordered by the Great Lakes. Peppered with wonderful inland lakes and rivers and streams. The Upper Peninsula. The Mackinac Bridge. Detroit… so much powerful juxtaposition. City and wilderness. Water and land. Industry and agriculture. I love this state. It’s really a great place to set fictional work.  I love the mythology of “going up North”… the idea that we will find our true selves in the woods or while tubing down a river. That plays heavily in the novel. Stan abandons his downstate life in hopes of discovering his real self up North. So, yeah, I set it here because here is where I live, and it’s what I know. But, then here became crucial to the feel of the novel.

F.F.: How did you prepare yourself to write a novel like Into the Desperate Country?

J.V.Z.: I guess I didn’t. I just started writing it. I still remember quite vividly starting the novel in my in-laws’ basement (It’s a nice basement… carpeting, big screen television, etc). Anyway, everyone was asleep, and I took out a notebook and hand-wrote that short little opening chapter (Of course, it was revised many times). It felt good to write that chapter. That chapter anchored me. I thought, “Yup, with that as my headlight, I can do this thing.” I went on to write a horrible novel that was about 100 pages too long. The thing was 260 pages when I finished. For some reason, I had it in my head that a novel should be 300 pages. Weird, these ideas we get hung up on. Larry Smith of Bottom Dog Press and Robert Bixby of March Street Press helped me trim the 100 pages that weren’t necessary. So, I wrote it in six months and then edited it for two years. What a mess it was at first… but I learned a lot about novel writing from the experience. I had no idea what I was getting into down in my in-laws’ basement that night.

F.F.: What sparked the idea for Stan Carter (the main character) and his simple, yet complicated, dream?

J.V.Z.: I remember coming home from Up North on a Sunday with my father-in-law, and it was melancholy because the weekend was over and the next day was work and everything that goes with that. And I remember thinking, “What if someone refuse to come back? Just abandoned their life and lived in their cabin?” From there, I had to think about who might do something like that… and it turned out to be Stan Carter. First, I dealt with him in a short story called “Downstream Water”… which is the second chapter in the novel (with revisions). Well, about a year after the short story was finished, I found Stan still eating at me. I wondered what happened to him. So, I wrote the novel to find out. (And, I’m still thinking about him… thinking about starting the sequel, Desperate City) We’ll see.

F.F.: Is that how your ideas usually come about?

J.V.Z.: Hard to pinpoint how my ideas come about. But, yes, they usually start with an idea and then I shape a character around the idea. Then the character becomes three dimensional and begins to bully the idea, and they wrestle back and forth. I watch. And keep the minutes.

F.F.: In the story, Stan is mildly obsessed with rivers. Does the same fascination reside in you?

J.V.Z.: I love moving water. I don’t know why. Streams, cricks, rivers… water running along a curb after a rain. There’s something there I love. I have to be careful when I cross bridges because I’m always craning my neck to catch a glimpse of the river beneath. My wife is always saying, “Watch the road!”

F.F.: How does teaching (at Delta College) affect your writing and your writing style?

J.V.Z.: I don’t think it affects my writing style, but it does affect my writing. It affects it in a good way. I hear people say, “I only write in the summer, not when I’m teaching.” Me? I hardly write anything new in the summer (I use the summers to revise and edit). My new work comes to me when I’m busy, engaged with colleagues and students… engaged with people. I need to be crunched for time to write. If I have too much time, it’s no good. So, I don’t know if it’s teaching or just being busy that makes me write more.

F.F.: What writers influenced you growing up, and how does that list compare to today’s?

J.V.Z.: I’m never a huge fan of this question. I remember I was really influenced by Jim Daniels when I was first trying to write poetry. Anymore, I find myself rereading the fiction of Ron Carlson, Bonnie Jo Campbell, Italo Calvino. I also really admire anyone who is really after something – trying to say something and not just be a stylist. I read Lord of the Flies to my son over the summer. I recall it as something I suffered through in high school, but I was blown away when rereading it.  It’s really not a teen book. Heavy stuff going on there. I wish there were more big books being written like that today… really after something, really trying to hold a mirror up to the human condition.

F.F.: At what moment in your life did you know you wanted to be a writer?

J.V.Z.: There was no one moment. All I know is that I’m happier when I’m working on something and cranky when I’m not. I need to write. Period.

F.F.: What do you do to get into your “zone” when you write? Is it different for fiction as opposed to poetry?

J.V.Z.: I write best at night. Handwrite first drafts of poems. Word process stories. A glass of red wine is nice. Second glass of red wine makes all the writing seem even better (though a morning reread proves otherwise). My writing works best if I force myself to write that first draft from beginning to end without rewriting along the way. Get the first crappy draft out of the way and then begin the true work of rewriting it.

– – – – –

Five Fishes would like to thank Mr. Vande Zande for taking the time to answer our riveting questions, and we nearly insist that anyone and everyone check out his work.