New England Review

Meet the Readers

Marisa P. Clark

“The stories I forward tend to feature characters who live on in my mind long after the story reaches its conclusion; if I keep wondering how they’re doing, that’s a good sign.”

Tell us a little bit about yourself. Where are you from and what do you do when you’re not reading for NER? 
I was born and grew up on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, spent my young adulthood in Atlanta, and moved to Albuquerque, New Mexico, after I completed my PhD in fiction writing at Georgia State University. I teach at UNM, and I write—fiction, nonfiction, poetry, whatever shows up for me on a given day! Favorite pastimes and preoccupations include spending time with my parrots and dogs, walking (especially at night, in conjunction with stargazing), music, yoga, dreams, Jungian psychology, coffee, and birdwatching from my back and front porches. I look forward to more travel, concerts, and trips to the gym when the pandemic and my related anxiety abate.

What made you decide to be a reader for NER, and how long have you been on staff?
I responded to a call for fiction readers that came out in spring 2017, and I’ve been reading for NER ever since. I leaped at the chance because of how much I’ve enjoyed my past work with other literary magazines, Five Points and Blue Mesa Review among them.

Have you ever read a submission that later got selected for publication? 
Just one, “The Length in Six Strokes,” by Sharbari Zohra Ahmed, in NER 40.3. And I still think about the one that got away—we were in the final stages of accepting the story when it got picked up by another magazine.

What is your reading process like? What do you look for in a submission? 
Stories aren’t one-size-fits-all, so I’m reluctant to open a submission and “look for” something specific in it. I try to read every story with curiosity, openness, and hope. What journey will this story take me on, whom will I get to meet, where will I get to go, and what will happen along the way? What will surprise me? What will move me? Who will usher me through the events? When I read an especially promising story, I save it to reread later so that I can gauge what sticks with me, what haunts or disturbs or otherwise strikes me. The stories I forward tend to feature characters who live on in my mind long after the story reaches its conclusion; if I keep wondering how they’re doing, that’s a good sign.

Of the pieces you’ve read at NER—whether in the magazine or among the submissions—which was your favorite or most memorable to you personally? 
I’m continually impressed with the quality and range of creative work in the magazine, but admittedly, the published pieces that remain in my memory tend to be by writers I know, like Blas Falconer, Jenn Givhan, Dana Levin, and (watch out, world!) Benjamin Garcia. I also linger over the poetry and prose by the folks whose books have a home on my bookshelves. For personal reasons, one especially memorable essay was Traci Brimhall’s “Archival Voyeur: Searching for Secrets in Amelia Earhart’s Lost Poems” (40.4); I’ve been working on a series of poems about a character named after the aviatrix, and this essay inspired happiness and deeper research.

How has reading for NER influenced your own writing/creative pursuits? 
If anything, it encourages me to keep sending out my own work. Reading for NER strengthens my understanding of what goes on behind the scenes of top-tier literary journals. I’ve read a number of strong stories that we aren’t able to publish but that I’m sure will find a good home as long as the author keeps looking. So I keep looking too.

What do you read for pleasure? Is there something you’re reading at the moment that you would recommend? 
You’re risking an essay-length response! It’s summer, so I’m reading only for pleasure, everything for pleasure.

In the past couple of months, I’ve finished Lyanda Lynn Haupt’s Crow Planet; Meg Day’s Last Psalm at Sea Level; Jenn Shapland’s My Autobiography of Carson McCullers; an Amelia Earhart biography called East to the Dawn, by Susan Butler; One Art (Elizabeth Bishop’s collected letters) and her complete poems (both rereads); The Thing about Jellyfish, by Ali Benjamin (loaned to me by my 11-year-old friend Charisma); W.S. Merwin’s Garden Time; and Lee Ann Roripaugh’s Year of the Snake. Right now I’m reading Louise Erdrich’s The Night Watchman, and up next are Helen Macdonald’s H Is for Hawk, Lauren Hough’s Leaving Isn’t the Hardest Thing, and Louise Glück’s Meadowlands. I’m also finding a lot to enjoy in NER 42.2.

Some recent books that have had an especially powerful and lingering impact on me are Jericho Brown’s poetry collection The Tradition; Alexander Chee’s memoir How to Write an Autobiographical Novel; the novels Jubilee by Jenn Givhan and Under the Rainbow by Celia Laskey; and the middle-grade graphic novel Snapdragon by Kat Leyh.

I recommend them all!

Our staff readers, all volunteers, play an essential role in our editorial process and in our mission to discover new voices in contemporary literature. A full list of staff read

New Books from NER Authors: December 2017

The aim of this anthology – so ably and passionately put together by the editors – is to try to shift the nature of the debate around guns and give voice to the effect of violence in a manner that isn’t always associated with the poetic. —Colum McCann, winner of the National Book Award

From the publisher: Focused intensively on the crisis of gun violence in America, this volume brings together poems by dozens of our best-known poets, including Billy Collins, Patricia Smith, Mark Doty, Rita Dove, Natalie Diaz, Martín Espada, Robert Hass, Naomi Shihab Nye, Ocean Vuong, Danez Smith, Brenda Hillman, Natasha Threthewey and Juan Felipe Herrera.

Each poem is followed by a response from a gun violence prevention activist, political figure, survivor, or concerned individual, including Nobel Peace Prize Laureate Jody Williams, Senator Christopher Murphy, Moms Demand Action founder Shannon Watts, survivors of the Columbine, Sandy Hook, Charleston Emmanuel AME, and Virginia Tech shootings, and Samaria Rice, mother of Tamir, and Lucy McBath, mother of Jordan Davis.

Bullets into Bells is edited by Brian Clements, Dean Rader, and Alexandra Teague. Teague’s poem “Cork” appeared in NER 24.1-2. It is available from Beacon Press and from independent booksellers.

 

This excellent, portable guide will appeal to travelers who want to write about their journeys effectively and engagingly. Its tools and techniques can help writers deepen observation, improve engagement, and enhance learning while on the move, and create rich work upon return. —Jordana Dym, editor of Mapping Latin America

From the publisher: Co-authored by Peter Chilson and Joanne B. Mulcahy, Writing Abroad is meant for travelers of all backgrounds and writing levels: a student embarking on overseas study; a retiree realizing a dream of seeing China; a Peace Corps worker in Kenya. All can benefit from documenting their adventures, whether on paper or online. Through practical advice and adaptable exercises, this guide will help travelers hone their observational skills, conduct research and interviews, choose an appropriate literary form, and incorporate photos and videos into their writing.

Peter Chilson is professor of creative writing and literature at Washington State University. He is the author of Riding the Demon: On the Road in West Africa, Disturbance-Loving Species: A Novella and Stories, and We Never Knew Exactly Where: Dispatches from the Lost Country of Mali. He served as a Peace Corps volunteer in Niger. His essay “Welcome to Mali” appeared in NER 37.3.

Writing Abroad is available from the University of Chicago Press and from independent booksellers.

 

Writing at the advent of an uncertain age, Lavant continues to accompany us with her fierce interrogations – which will also endure long after us – in these elegant translations by David Chorlton. —Ellen Hinsey, author of Update on the Descent

From the David Chorlton’s introduction: Born in 1915 on July the fourth, Christine Thonhauser (Lavant) was the ninth child of a miner, Georg, and his wife, Anna, and grew up in poverty. While the poetry she was later to write contained the language of spirituality, the pain she described in it came from actual conditions which she suffered: scrofula and tuberculosis of the lungs. Being disadvantaged in health also meant she could not complete her education as intended. Unable to do hard physical work, she earned a living with knitting and weaving, until she gained a reputation as a writer. Along with these health problems, she had depression to endure. Poor hearing or blindness in her poetry were not conjured metaphors for general condition.

David Chorlton was born in Spittal-an-der-Drau, Austria, grew up in Manchester, England, and lived for several years in Vienna before moving to Phoenix in 1978. As much as he has come to love the Southwest, he has strong memories of Vienna, the setting for his work of fiction, The Taste of Fog (Rain Mountain Press, 2011). His most recent work includes Selected Poems (FutureCycle Press, 2014) and A Field Guide to Fire, his contribution to the Fires of Change exhibition shown in Flagstaff and Tucson. His translation of a poem by Christine Lavant was included in NER 37.3.

Shatter the Bell in My Ear is available from The Bitter Oleander Press and from independent booksellers.

 

A darkly luminous book by a poet at the height of his considerable poetic power. —Kathy Fagan

From the publisher: With uncommon grace, each of Pankey’s precise lyrics advances our shared ontological questions and expresses our deepest contradictions. In a world of mystery, should we focus on finding meaning or creating it? How can the known—and the unknown—be captured in language? “If one cannot see clearly,” Pankey writes, borrowing from Freud, “one at least wants / what is unclear to be in focus.”

Eric Pankey is the author of numerous books of poems, most recently Augury and Crow-Work. His poetry, essays, and reviews have appeared widely in such journals and anthologies as the New Yorker, Kenyon Review, Iowa Review, and Poetry Daily, as well as several anthologies, including Best American Poetry. Pankey has been awarded fellowships from the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts, and the Ingram Merril Foundation. A 1983 graduate of the Iowa Writer’s Workshop, he is a professor of English and the Heritage Chair in Writing at George Mason University and resides in Fairfax, Virginia. Pankey has been featured in NER numerous times, most recently appearing in NER 34.1.

Augury is available from Milkweed and from independent booksellers.

 

Chang is emerging as an exciting voice in contemporary poetry, and this is undoubtedly her most accomplished volume to date. —Publishers Weekly

From the publisher: In Barbie Chang, Victoria Chang explores racial prejudice, sexual privilege, and the disillusionment of love through a reimagining of Barbie – perfect in the cultural imagination yet repeatedly falling short as she pursues the American dream. By turns woeful and passionate, playful and incisive, these poems reveal a voice insisting that “even silence is not silent.”

Victoria Chang’s fourth book of poems, Barbie Chang was published by Copper Canyon Press in 2017. The Boss was published by McSweeney’s and won a PEN Center USA Literary Award and a California Book Award. Her other books are Salvinia Molesta and Circle.  She also edited an anthology, Asian American Poetry: The Next Generation. Her poems have appeared in Kenyon Review, American Poetry Review, Best American Poetry, and elsewhere.  She received a Guggenheim Fellowship and a Sustainable Arts Foundation Fellowship in 2017.  She is a contributing editor of the literary journal Copper Nickel and a poetry editor at Tupelo Quarterly. Her work last appeared in New England Review in NER 38.3.

Barbie Chang is available from Copper Canyon Press and from independent booksellers.

 

“[Brimhall] allows us brief visions, glimpses, of experiences more lush and raw than our own.” —The Rumpus

From the publisher: Inspired by stories from her Brazilian-born mother, Traci Brimhall’s third collection—a lush and startling “autobiomythography”—is reminiscent of the rich imaginative worlds of Latin American magical realists. Set in the Brazilian Amazon, Saudade is one part ghost story, one part revival, and is populated by a colorful cast of characters and a recurring chorus of irreverent Marias.

Traci Brimhall is the author of two previous poetry collections. She earned her PhD from Western Michigan University and is Assistant Professor of Creative Writing at Kansas State University. She lives in Manhattan, Kansas. Her work most recently appeared in New England Review NER 37.1.

Saudade is available from Copper Canyon Press and from independent booksellers.

 

An ode to plums

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From Traci Brimhall’s “The Unverifiable Resurrection of Adão da Barco,” a poem in the current issue:

First, a tourist finds a poem in the leper colony,
carved in a kapok, ants swarming sap in the cuts.
Then a fisherman uncovers instructions for a rain dance,
an usher discovers recipes for the jubilee.

A riverboat captain comes to town and leads them
to a tree in the north describing the mating habits
of the marabunta, to one in the south with an ode to plums.

[read the poem]

 

Daily Dickinson

 On Devotional Reading | By Traci Brimhall

Author Photo: Julie Beers

A few months ago, one of my friends and I decided to enter into a five-year relationship with Emily Dickinson. The rules were broad: read an Emily Dickinson poem each day (starting with number one in the volume of Dickinson’s poetry edited by Thomas H. Johnson), and write 50-100 words about it. The observations didn’t have to be critical. What’s noticed in a poem is important, but what’s more important is the devotion, the daily return to someone’s words.

~

In graduate school, I was an insatiable reader. For two years I tried to read a book a day. There seemed to be so many gaps in my knowledge—gaps I thought I could never fill, gaps that are still there and keep widening—unless I consumed widely and quickly. The hunger grows the more I feed it. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with gorging oneself on poetry, but lately I’ve wanted a different kind of relationship with poems.

~

Sometimes I write this: “Who the hell is this woman and what has she done with Dickinson?” Sometimes this: “I always knew God and math were kissing cousins.” Other days, it is this: “Yes! Yes! I will follow that line anywhere.”

~

Devotion is difficult. I was never any good at prayer. I always had more questions than praises or complaints.

~

There are very few novels I’ve read more than once, but most books of poetry on my shelf have been read anywhere from twice to a dozen times. Poetry lends itself to devotion. As a child, I tried to read the Bible all the way through several times, but I always got tangled up in the why of it. Any time I tried to ask how Cain was able to move to a city after being banished from Eden or why Lot was a person worth saving when he offered to let a crowd rape his daughters, I was told I didn’t have enough faith in God’s infinite plan.

~

Infinity requires devotion, and while I can’t commit to infinity, I have committed to five years of small, daily devotions. When I write tomy friend (the one who has committed to this project with me), I say “you” and I mean her. I say “we” and I mean she and I. I never mean Dickinson, even though she is what we talk about. We are sharing Dickinson, but never at the same time. We have our separate intimacies and then tell them to each other. A writer’s work—and particularly a writer like Dickinson—is so public, so exposed, so excavated, and I want her to be mine, just mine, for a few minutes, for a morning, for five years. I’ve given myself over to a book. I’ve promised myself more questions.

*

NER Digital is a creative writing series for the web. Traci Brimhall is the author of Our Lady of the Ruins (W.W. Norton, 2012), winner the Barnard Women Poets Prize, and Rookery (SIU Press, 2010), winner of the Crab Orchard Series First Book Award. Her poems have appeared in Kenyon Review, Slate, VQR, NER (32.1), and elsewhere. A former Halls Poetry Fellow at the Wisconsin Institute for Creative Writing, she’s currently a doctoral candidate and King/Chávez/Parks Fellow at Western Michigan University. Read Traci Brimhall’s NER poem “Somniloquy.”

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