Writing spaces are as varied as the individuals who occupy them. The range of “space” we enter for our writing practice is a wide, wild field from tidy to random, from Maya Angelou in a sparse hotel room to Ben Franklin in a bathtub, from Marcel Proust in bed to Jane Austen at the kitchen table to you: what does your writing space look like? medina is a third year dual track MFA student in Writing For Children and Young Adults and Nonfiction. They dream of a more inclusive world.
Where do you write?
Where Intention lives.
Stand, sit or other?
Does the wind sit or stand?
What is your writing practice?
It's ever-changing. It's always in motion and always evolving. I nurture its growth. I speak my words into existence. I share meals with my characters. They join me in the park. I honor them. Have conversations with them. We play music together. Admire the night sky together. Sit in silence together. I am as gentle as I am with myself as I am with the people and communities I write about.
What are your favorite procrastinations?
I’m not someone who procrastinates. I’m someone who processes in the time that it is healthy for me.
We live in interesting times, which book/author keeps you sane/grounded?
We absolutely do live in challenging times. I admire many authors, educators, scholars, activists and those working towards creating a more just and equitable world!
What I love to read are words from high school students I’m mentoring. What reminds me of the light and goodness in the world is interacting with educators who are committed to create safer and more inclusive environments for young learners. Being part of this and witnessing this brings me peace and makes me very happy to be alive.
What is your new skill learned during the shutdowns of the Pandemic?
I’m someone who is interested in deepening myself. Deepening my heart.
What is your dream writing space?
Writing is a source of joy for me because I believe that as writers we have the social responsibility to write words that do not harm any person or community. How can I not feel joyful when I know that my words will interact with someone else and they could be impacted by them?
In order for me to take care of my own well-being and produce any type of work I must be in a space that is warm, accepting and non judgemental. That's an inward space. That's an inward experience. Expressing our words outwardly is an act of rebellion, an act that has the power to change the world!
This writing space is part of my mind, my emotions, the stories I inherit and carry with me. They're part of our communities. They're part of our world.
I dream of being part of worlds and activating and creating new worlds that are insistent on including all people who live on a continuum of all identities. Those honoring all people with all mental health illnesses. Those committed to advocating for and caring for all people with all disabilities.
You are your writing space.
medina (they/them) is a mixed Honduran nonbinary demisexual lesbian. They’re a dual MFA creative writing candidate with concentrations in Writing for Children and Young Adults and Nonfiction. They’re an Impact Entrepreneur Fellow, social impact entrepreneur and youth advocate. They’ve written for Self Magazine, HelloGiggles, Bustle, Them., and more. They're represented by Verve Talent LA and Avalon. Their debut queer contemporary middle-grade book, THE ONE WHO LOVES YOU THE MOST, comes out in the Spring of 2022.
Writing spaces are as varied as the individuals who occupy them. The range of “space” we enter for our writing practice is a wide, wild field from tidy to random, from Maya Angelou in a sparse hotel room to Ben Franklin in a bathtub, from Marcel Proust in bed to Jane Austen at the kitchen table to you: what does your writing space look like? Second year MFA student in nonfiction Azka Anwar serves up slivers of memory, birdsong, and chocolate chip cookies.
Where do you write?
My greatest accomplishment of the last year was managing to squeeze a desk into my shoebox-sized bedroom. Once the pandemic hit and writing (or pretending to) in cute cafés was no longer an option, I realized pretty quickly that I needed a work space that wasn't my bed (writing in bed only ever ends in untimely naps for me). My desk is where I write now, and I've lined it with all the essentials for a productive writing day: brightly colored pens, a scented candle, and a jar of almonds (every Pakistani mom’s snack recommendation of choice).
Stand, sit or other?
Sit (or slouch, or sometimes, hunch over and cry…)
What is your writing practice?
Refuse to write until two days before a deadline. Just kidding. I don't like to know what a piece is going to be about until I've started writing it, so my essays usually begin with an image, or a phrase, or a sliver of a memory. Which means that I'm a very, very slow writer—the first draft is just the story discovering itself, and that process is always at least a little terrifying (but illuminating and rewarding, ultimately). I also need the right music to get into the writing headspace—'dark academia' playlists on YouTube work very well (and Taylor Swift's folklore is even better).
What are your favorite procrastinations ?
South Korean variety shows. Unearned breaks to bake Pillsbury's chocolate chip cookies. And one of the more productive ones is to read books by better writers than myself (ha). Nothing inspires me to write like reading great writing, naturally—right now I'm reading Rebecca Solnit's Recollections of my Nonexistence and hoping that by doing so I can absorb some of her talent. One dreams.
We live in interesting times, which book/author keeps you sane/grounded?
Anything by Brian Doyle. He's perhaps the first writer who made me feel like the (small, seemingly mundane) subjects I gravitate towards could make for stirring, important nonfiction. His Epiphanies column in The American Scholar is where I go when I need to be reminded of the things that are most essential to me: paying attention, taking my time, letting myself be moved by language. (For the uninitiated, I recommend starting with Joyas Voladoras.)
What is your new skill learned during the shutdowns of the Pandemic
Positioning my mask just so, so it won't fog up my glasses. Managing to somehow kill every houseplant I acquire, no matter how low maintenance. And one I'm quite proud of: learning to make a traditional Eid breakfast without my mother's (in person) supervision.
What is your dream writing space?
My own library with floor to ceiling bookshelves, because I never got over Belle's. With a fireplace, of course, and a hot chocolate-dispenser in some corner. Faint birdsong coming in from the gardens outside the window, and the presence of a muse who refuses to leave my side. Amen.
Azka Anwar is a second-year nonfiction student from Pakistan and an editorial fellow at Guernica and Teachers & Writers Magazine. She lives in Brooklyn with a dead cactus that she refuses to throw away.
Writing spaces are as varied as the individuals who occupy them. The range of “space” we enter for our writing practice is a wide, wild field from tidy to random, from Maya Angelou in a sparse hotel room to Ben Franklin in a bathtub, from Marcel Proust in bed to Jane Austen at the kitchen table to you: what does your writing space look like? Second year MFA student in fiction Wilbert Turner III invites us to pull up a storage tub and go mobile.
Where do you write?
Almost exclusively in my bedroom. Before the Pandemic this meant at a rickety black desk in Flushing, but now I’m back at home in South Philly. I don’t have a desk in my room, so I’ve stacked two bins and placed my laptop atop them. I enjoy the near absolute solitude of it. When I used to write in public or in a family room, someone invariable would start trying to strike up a conversation, and honestly, I can’t deal with the distraction. I should however give honorable mention to the notes app on my phone, where I jot down thoughts and sentences pretty much daily, and nobody ever bothers me while doing it. Probably because they assume I’m texting. Go figure.
Stand, sit or other?
I’m almost always sitting when the actual act of typing or writing is done. But I’ve found that the best way for me to overcome writer’s block is to go for walks (with my trusty notes app in hand!) When I lived in Queens I would head out of my apartment at all times of the night, ostensibly for snack runs but really because my brain works best when I can get my blood flowing. Now with the Pandemic and being in Philly, I’ve restricted myself to masked walks and only during the daytime. And now that it’s cold out, I’ve restricted myself even further to pacing in my room or hopping on my twenty-five year old stationary bike.
What is your writing practice?
It always starts with music. I have eleven playlists on Spotify designed specifically for me to listen to while writing (not to mention over 170 other playlists I’ve created over the years). Some of them are six years old, others are barely six months old. They range from movie soundtrack songs to hip-hop to some of the biggest pop hits of the past few decades. Maybe twenty percent of the songs are instrumentals, but usually I’m listening to a song with words while writing. Each playlist is a bit different and inspires a different set of moods while I’m writing. If I don’t have music, I’m probably not accomplishing much. Once I select my playlist, I usually open my novel-in-progress on Google Docs, and pick up where I last left off. For the most part I’m a chronological writer and reviser, unless I’m struck with writer’s block. Although I’ve often found that writer’s block in one section of the novel is writer’s block in every section, and I either need to go for one of my walks or consult the notes app. Now, I would be remiss not to mention at least a few foibles of my writing practice: I’m an incessant word count checker. I probably check my total word count every forty-five words written or deleted. I don’t really know why, but I suppose the ever shifting number comforts me somehow. I also tend to be heavy on the dialogue and light on the interiority, and while I’ve worked on achieving a sense of balance, I’ll always love a good zinger that can be felt by both the audience and other characters.
What are your favorite procrastinations ?
I’m actually obsessed with YouTube million dollar property tours done by either Architectural Digest or Ryan Serhant. I discovered both YouTube channels about a month before the Pandemic and they’ve truly carried me through it thus far. I could watch and rewatch either for a couple hours everyday (and often do). I’m also a big fan of a few writing podcasts like Between the Covers which is the official Tin House pod, or The Maris Review. Other than that you can probably find me watching Game of Thrones (only seasons 1-6), The Crown (Yes even the seasons without Princess Diana) or surfing the greatest social media app in existence: Twitter.
We live in interesting times, which book/author keeps you sane/grounded?
This was probably the most difficult question to answer. Back at the beginning of the Pandemic, it was undoubtedly Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado which I was actually fortunate enough to have borrowed from our inimitable classmate Kate Tooley. But I’ve since returned that book and had to find other literary worlds. If I had to pick just one author it would probably be James Baldwin and the book would probably be his first novel, Go Tell It On The Mountain. There are other works of Baldwin’s that are more well known by the general public (The Fire Next Time, Giovanni’s Room), but Go Tell It On The Mountain speaks to levels of profound hope and disillusionment that I really feel at the core of my being. Plus I love the ways in which it jumps between POV’s and how its a bildungsroman that gives its characters satisfying endings, even if they’re not happy ones.
What is your new skill learned during the shutdowns of the Pandemic
Well I’ve been learning the piano based on a phone app and some YouTube tutorials, but since I’ve only recently ascended to comfortably playing intermediate songs, I’m actually going to say the best skill I’ve learned is podcasting. Over the past couple of months, a fellow student (Jake Steinberg) and I have started up a pop culture podcast called Viewer Digression. We talk about all sorts of topics, from movies, to TV, to books (And in our upcoming episode I give a very special shoutout to Jane Austen and Pride & Prejudice). I think it’s undoubtedly helped me become a better writer, because I’m constantly analyzing why something works (or why it doesn’t). We’re also running social media accounts for the pod, so I’m learning a few things there as well.
What is your dream writing space?
Like I said I’m a mostly solitary writer so my dreaming writing space would be my own private library. I could have access to all my greatest inspirations, a nice view with a little sunlight, and I’d probably keep a stereo system in there for good measure. I’m not really one for vinyls, but if I’m being honest I’d probably have one of those just for the aesthetic. All that being said, I’d probably settle for a writing space with an actual desk for now.
Wilbert Turner III is a writer from South Philadelphia. You can find him tweeting @wil_to_win, podcasting at Viewer Digression or blogging at Halfheartedwisdoms.com
Writing spaces are as varied as the individuals who occupy them. The range of “space” we enter for our writing practice is a wide, wild field from tidy to random, from Maya Angelou in a sparse hotel room, Alexander Chee on a train, Ben Franklin in a bathtub, Marcel Proust in bed, Jane Austen at the kitchen table to you: what does your writing space look like? What role does “place” take with your writing practice? Riggio Honors Writing student and Editor in Chief for 12th Street Literary Journal Chloe Colvard invites us into her kitchen.
Where do you write?
I used to write in busy areas that are full of things to look at. It sounds counterproductive doesn’t it? Surprisingly, it helps me focus to know that I am a part of an atmosphere that has all sorts of different things going on, and that I am simply one of many people working on something. It feels motivating. It can also be very useful for writer’s block. Since the pandemic of course, this is not an option anymore. I have recently had to re-train my brain to focus while sitting at my kitchen island, which is a new world...isn’t everything right now though? I think I’m finally getting into the swing of it.
What is your writing practice?
I write while moving very quickly, and perhaps carelessly. When I first started writing, I went very slowly and carefully. I used to write as if someone was going to read it while basking in a dark corner behind me the whole time or something. I write a lot of nonfiction, and sometimes it does feel that way when you are so close to your own work. Once I came to the realization that a big part of writing is just spitting everything out, I was able to find a method to my madness, and I got spitting. I like to run through a piece, fairly quickly and in one go. Just get it out onto the page. Sometimes that’s the hardest part, but I always end up with more than I was expecting at the end. Then, I will subtract while I edit, and eventually go back in to add more, if need be.
What are your favorite procrastinations / binge shows?
My days in quarantine and levels of procrastination vary on such a sliding scale from day-to-day with ADHD, but I will say that the one constant guilty pleasure that I always go back to are podcasts. Even if I have a full schedule ahead of me, I listen to at least one podcast a day. I enjoy a lot of true crime and political podcasts, but I also treat myself to some more playful ones, such as the Everything Is Alive podcast. That podcast has actually inspired my writing, because it gives voices and personalities to inanimate objects.
What was the book that got you through the Pandemic?
Shut Up You’re Pretty by Téa Mutonji’ is a intertwining story collection that I stumbled upon at The Strand over a year ago. Despite its unusual name, it has been a book that I keep going back to for its disorienting beauty, and the masterful use of the passing of time with each section. I am also in the middle of the essay collection Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit, and it has been another great read so far. If you can’t tell, I like to read in forms that would fall into the essays, collections, and vignettes category.
What is your new skill learned during the Pandemic?
My new skill actually relates back to question one, which is to be able to write and to focus while spending so much time inside, particularly inside the same four walls. Literally, I live in a studio apartment. I also think that coping mechanisms and focusing on self-care are such valuable tools to hone-in on right now, and it’s not a skill in which it’s value ends once the pandemic does.
What is your dream writing space?
I chose a New York rooftop as my dream writing space, because I would love being able to access the fresh air while still feeling like I was within the city. I can totally picture listening to whatever sounds the city creates while writing there. Jazz from a park, sirens, cheers, any of that sounds wonderful.
Living in Brooklyn, Chloe is a third year Creative Writing student at The New School, as well as the Editor-in-Chief of 12th Street, The New School's literary magazine. She spends her time crafting, stalking Facebook Marketplace, and dodging slow walkers on the sidewalk. She is a part-time 4th grade student-teacher, and a full-time cat mom.
Where I Write, a series of short interviews with current students, faculty, and alumni of the Creative Writing Program. It is a discussion of place in writing. What our writing spaces look like can be as varied as the physical spaces that exist (or don't!) in New York and beyond, and as varied as the mental and psychic spaces we occupy while we write. We are deeply grateful to Kate Tooley's generosity and bravery for being the first post up and inviting us all into her space.
What is your writing practice?
Improvisational. It definitely fluxuates. I’ve never been a creature of habit. I’m more like a cat that’s sleeping in your sweaters one week and on top of the kitchen cabinets the next.
What is your favorite procrastination or binge watch?
Twitter is a big one for me; I love reading whatever stories pop up on my feed in a given morning, and also threads from people who have really niche interests and expertise. Open world gaming is really relaxing for me too -- I’m super happy exploring a landscape and like, collecting mushrooms. I’m not a huge TV person, but I freely admit that my wife and I have watched the entirety of She-Ra twice since quarantine.
What was the book that got you through the Pandemic?
I've read so many incredible, game changing books this year, but as far as books that have gotten me through up til now... I keep going back to Marie-Helene Bertino’s Parakeet to remind myself what I love about language and writing. On a totally different note, the first two books of Tamsyn Muir’s Locked Tomb Trilogy have helped me laugh a lot and get out of the world for a bit, both of which feel like very big things right now.
What is your new skill learned during the shutdown?
Focusing on one thing at a time and saying no. I’d like to tell you that I’d learned to play, you know, the dulcimer or speak another language or something, but really the biggest win has been not always doing ten percent more than I should realistically take on. Also my Spicy Old Fashioned game has gotten really strong.
What does your dream writing space look like?
I love writing in public places -- I’m aching for a crowded neighborhood coffee shop that’s as much a community meeting place where everyone knows each other as anything else. Lots of plants, warm afternoon light coming in the windows, and all the low buzz of coffee grinders and conversations. Somewhere with strong espresso and good pastries, or pie, pie would be even better. Alternately a half full subway car at an odd time of day: midafternoon or late at night; that weird quiet that hits sometimes and a single bottle rolling from one end of the car to the other; all the intense subway smells and people doing their thing and paying absolutely no attention to me.
Kate Tooley is a second year fiction student living in Brooklyn with her wife, fur-children, and what appears to be a small farm taking over her kitchen. Her writing can be found online in Pidegonholes, Longleaf Review, X-R-A-Y Literary Magazine, and elsewhere.katetooley.com
If interested in participating in a Where I Write profile, please email slivc631@newschool.edu.
Today we are excited to announce the titles on the 2020 National Book Awards Finalists including our own Kacen Callendar, Writing For Children and Young Adults MFA 2014. Congratulations Kacen!
Anja Kampmann, "High as the Waters Rise"
Translated by Anne Posten
Catapult
Jonas Hassen Khemiri, "The Family Clause" Translated by Alice Menzies
Farrar, Straus and Giroux / Macmillan Publishers
Yu Miri, "Tokyo Ueno Station" Translated by Morgan Giles
Riverhead Books / Penguin Random House
Pilar Quintana, "The Bitch" Translated by Lisa Dillman
World Editions
Adania Shibli, "Minor Detail" Translated by Elisabeth Jaquette
New Directions
Young People's Literature:
Kacen Callender, "King and the Dragonflies"
Scholastic Press / Scholastic Inc.
Traci Chee, "We Are Not Free"
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Candice Iloh, "Every Body Looking"
Dutton Books for Young Readers / Penguin Random House
Victoria Jamieson and Omar Mohamed, "When Stars Are Scattered" Dial Books for Young Readers / Penguin Random House
Gavriel Savit, "The Way Back" Knopf Books for Young Readers / Penguin Random House
Virginia Valenzuelais a poet, essayist, and yogi originally from Manhattan. She holds BA degrees in creative writing, literary studies, and women’s studies, and a minor in film studies. She completed her MFA in poetry and creative nonfiction at The New School. She is a writer at The Warblr, curator of The New School After Hours reading series, and Prose Editor of LIT. Virginia’s poetry has appeared on the Best American Poetry Blog.
1.Who is your favorite villain, and who is your favorite protagonist in literature?
My favorite protagonist in literature is either Jo March from Alcott’s Little Women or Gregor Samsa from Kafka’s Metamorphosis. One is about harnessing the power of the mind over the (gendered) body, one is about the fall of the intellectual human being. Both stories are about the struggle between your duty to your family, and your duty to yourself, the world of the individual who does not fit in, who wants and needs to break free.
My favorite villain is society. The way it shifts, the way it moves, the way it destroys. I love the tension that is created when you know that there is no solution to the problem at hand, the character was doomed from the start, and only a miracle will save them. Either the miracle comes right at the end, or the miracle comes not at all, but the characters who achieve their dreams by the end have been able to overcome the obstacles thrown their way. I like books that remind me that nothing about life is easy, but that there can be a reward for those you persevere with their moral compass intact.
2. When did you know you were a writer?
I was in Kindergarten. We were tasked with writing an original story about farm animals. I wrote mine with ease, and at the end of the period I had written an entire page (not bad for a writer the age of 5). My story had impressed the teachers so much that they read it to the class, put shiny stickers on it, and pinned it to the bulletin board. I remember the feeling I had when I saw how different it looked from the other kids’ work, the feeling I had when my teacher looked at me in surprise and said, “you wrote this?”
After that, I wrote, illustrated, and bound my first book, and have been looking for an agent ever since.
3. What are you currently working on?
I am attempting to write a novel for the first time. It’s about what it’s like to be young in America in the 21st century, to have your entire life ahead of you while simultaneously worrying about the running out of time. It tackles student debt and the employment crisis brought on by the fact that we have had three recessions just in the 21st century, which has impacted millennials more than any other generation. It’s written in the modernist style with stream-of-consciousness.
I am still adding essays to my nonfiction thesis that I finished in 2019, as well as submitting excerpts of my poetry thesis from 2018 to chapbook contests.
4. How has your writing process changed over the years?
I’ve become a lot better at planning the movement of the piece beforehand as well as learning how to give yourself enough distance to be able to look at a piece of writing clearly. The hardest thing I’ve encountered recently is wanting the draft to be perfect from page one, which is, of course, not the point of a first draft at all. I’ve been learning to let go of that search for perfection and to write through the parts of the story that are pulsing through me when I sit down to write, and worrying about connecting them or putting them in order later.
5. Describe your writing style in one sentence.
My style combines philosophy and poetry, dreams and reality, the personal and the political, while finding ways to see humor in tragedy, and hope in despair.
Five Questions, by Nicole L. Drayton. Nicole is a writer, screenwriter and independent filmmaker based in Brooklyn, NY. She holds a Bachelor of Science in Liberal Arts from The New School, and currently works for the university in the MFA in Creative Writing Program office.
Shokoofeh Azar, "The Enlightenment of the Greengage Tree"
Europa Editions
Rachel Willson-Broyles, "The Helios Disaster"
World Editions
Jonas Hassen Khemiri, "The Family Clause"
Translated by Alice Menzies
Farrar, Straus and Giroux / Macmillan Publishers
Anja Kampmann, "High as the Waters Rise"
Translated by Anne Posten
Catapult
Fernanda Melchor, "Hurricane Season"
Translated by Sophie Hughes
New Directions
Yu Miri, "Tokyo Ueno Station"
Translated by Morgan Giles
Riverhead Books / Penguin Random House
Perumal Murugan, "The Story of a Goat"
Translated by N. Kalyan Raman
Black Cat / Grove Atlantic
Cho Nam-Joo, "Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982"
Translated by Jamie Chang
Liveright / W. W. Norton & Company
Pilar Quintana, "The Bitch"
Translated by Lisa Dillman
World Editions
Adania Shibli, "Minor Detail"
Translated by Elisabeth Jaquette
New Directions
Alex is a Fiction/Nonfiction dual MFA student at the New School, a WriteOn Teaching Fellow, public speaking teacher, and the host of TNS After Hours. She is currently sheltering-in-place in her Northern California hometown with her parents.
1. Who is your favorite villain, and who is your favorite protagonist in literature?
My favorite villains are all the evil stepmothers, witches, and hags in fairytales. Without them, we wouldn’t have stories.
My favorite protagonist as of late is Harry Potter. Not that I like him so much. He’s super annoying in The Order of the Phoenix. But I like that I can fully see him. The audiobooks read by Jim Dale are my soothing balm. I can’t count how many times I’ve listened to the series. I’m amazed by the new things I hear even now and how JK Rowling created another world I can escape to. I also grew up as the books came out. It might be just nostalgia. One day I will have a goldfish and name him Harry.
2. When did you know you were a writer?
Think the “I’m a writer” moment happened during my first semester of undergrad, or at least, the “I really like this and want to get better at it” moment. I went to Hampshire College and during my first semester took a class called ‘Writing About Sports’ taught by professor and fishing enthusiast Will Ryan. It was a nonfiction writing workshop where we wrote essays about our own experience with sports, any and all sports, fishing included, while reading books like The Best American Sports Writing of the Century and Friday Night Lights. It was the first time in my life I was asked to write about my own life besides my personal essay for my college application. My final paper for the class was on my grandfather. He was an amazing athlete and had passed away the week before I started Hampshire. I was already an avid journaler, not a word but should be, since I was in middle school. But this class made me think that maybe others would want to hear my stories, they didn’t have to only live in my notebooks, that I too could be a storyteller.
3. What are you currently working on?
I write mostly about my family. I don’t think I’ll ever stop but it would be nice to be done one day. I’m a dual fiction/nonfiction student so the project has two forms at the moment: a series of short stories based on my time living in my father’s small Florida Panhandle town and a collection of essays exploring my grandmother who was institutionalized for Hysteria in the early 1960s, a family story of how my Sicilian immigrate great grandfather killed an African American man to be accepted into White Southern Culture, and my own personal obsession with wanting to be a mother.
4. How has your writing process changed over the years?
My time at the New School has made me more rhythmic. I write every day even though most days it’s junk. I need external pressure and encouragement to write. I thrive off deadlines and cheerleaders. New School has given me both. Grateful to my writing buddies and professors.
5. Describe your writing style in one sentence.
Obsessive, a bit angsty with a thread of dark humor, always sifting in search of what I don’t know yet because I haven’t found it.
Five Questions, by Nicole L. Drayton. Nicole is a writer, screenwriter and independent filmmaker based in Brooklyn, NY. She holds a Bachelor of Science in Liberal Arts from The New School, and currently works for the university in the MFA in Creative Writing Program office.
The next TNS After Hours is tonight, Friday, September 18th from7 - 8:30 pm ET. This month will be co-hosted by the fabulous Jessa Nagamoto (Fiction '21). Hope to see you all in the virtual Red Room!
I'm writing to check in with you during this heart wrenching time. I really appreciated President McBride's personal and powerful statement about the killing of George Floyd and its aftermath, and I was very glad to finally have someone like him in his position at The New School, writing about systemic and institutionalized racism, acknowledging that anger is an appropriate response to being terrorized.
This next year is not going to be "normal," in any way, but in spite of, or because of everything going on, I feel a kind of urgent hope. In this moment of pain, there's also clarity, with brutal reminders all around us that as bell hooks writes, we live in a "imperialist white supremicist capitalist patriarchy." The old normal hasn't worked. We've all been hurt by this system. We don't need to rush back to the old ways of doing things. We have a chance to write and teach and live in ways that make real change possible. What we do in the coming months can be better--more equitable, more full of love--than what we did before.
My dad recently retired after a very long career as a labor and civil rights lawyer. He's also deeply religious, and so I was kind of shocked when he told me that after all he'd seen, he didn't think that it was possible to change anyone else's mind. "If you want people to change their behavior, get a consent decree," he said, a much more cynical view than I imagined he had. But what he also meant is that the only person you can really change is yourself. We're not lawyers, not most of us anyway, and consent decrees may be out of our reach, but we do know how to work hyper-locally, on the page and in our hearts and heads. This is not to discount the political work that so many of you are engaged with.
I'm glad that we'll be working together over this next year to build an even better program, a stronger community.
Strength and Courage, Luis Jaramillo Director, Creative Writing Program
Jhon Valdes Klinger is a Colombian storyteller, filmmaker, educator, and writer. He is currently an MFA candidate in Fiction from the New School’s Writing Program. He was a Riggio Writing and Democracy recipient and studied Film Production in the school of media studies. He served as the editor of arts and media for 12thstreet literary magazine for the 2016/17 year. He is currently a research assistant for the writing program. In the fall he will be teaching English secondary school in San Jose. He is passionate about stories, film, education, and can’t seem to shut up about CrossFit.
1. Who is your favorite villain, and who is your favorite protagonist in literature?
My favorite villain is Lolita's (Navakov) Hubbert Hubbert. I enjoy a villain that I can love and hate. In terms of protagonists, I hate to love Sula. Toni Morrison wrote an endlessly-complicated character.
2. When did you know you were a writer?
When I was five-years-old I used to watch the news and reinterpret what I heard for adults in the funniest ways. I still do that, but it's not nearly as cute anymore.
3. What are you currently working on?
I am working on a novel-Bestia, which is a magical realism haunted house story set in New York and Colombia. I describe it as a terror-novela. The novel explores the horrors of being a new immigrant in America. I am also working on Olfacto, a book of nonfiction short stories that explores queerness and scents—being queer smells so good to me.
4 How has your writing process changed over the years?
I came from media studies and poetry background. I genuinely enjoyed brevity when I was younger (I still do in conversations). In the process of writing a novel, my paragraphs have become more expansive and detailed. I enjoy digging into what my characters are thinking and how they react to the world I created for them. I used to be scared of interiority because there is very little room for it in a screenplay. I am leaning to the poet in me to help with interiority.
5. Describe your writing style in one sentence.
In my writing, words blur between language, finding the common threads between English and Spanish, and juxtaposing the unconventional with the guiding hand of similarity.
Five Questions, by Nicole L. Drayton. Nicole is a writer, screenwriter and independent filmmaker based in Brooklyn, NY. She holds a Bachelor of Science in Liberal Arts from The New School, and currently works for the university in the MFA in Creative Writing Program office.
Interview with TNS After Hours Coordinators by Carissa Chesanek
Virginia “Vinny” Valenzuela and Alex Vara open up about the off-campus reading series, the literary bar it’s held at, and the welcoming writing community
The New School (TNS) After Hours reading series is a cool and comfortable space to share your writing aloud for others to hear. Of course, that last part can seem absolutely terrifying to any writer. I should know. I was completely freaked out for my first reading at After Hours, but it was unlike anything I ever constructed in my head (stiff audience, blaring florescent lights, you know what I’m talking about). But the environment was relaxed and the lighting was dim. And most of all, people were drinking and having good time. Once I stepped into that space, I was able to relax, drink, and have a good time, too. And hey, my reading wasn’t terrible either.
I sat down with the After Hours coordinators, Virginia “Vinny” Valenzuela and Alex Vara to talk about the creation of the reading series, the importance of reading work aloud, and how the pandemic impacted the way we now share our work.
Carissa Chesanek: Can you tell us a little bit about how After Hours got started?
Virginia “Vinny” Valenzuela: The New School After Hours was founded by Hillary Adler in the fall of 2015, during her first semester as a student in the MFA. She wanted to create a space where students could perform without the stress of being at school at a departmental event. Many readers confess that the After Hours reading is their performance debut, which tells me that the series’ original mission continues to thrive, both in person and online.
Alex Vara: It’s another event for current students to show off their stuff and be off-campus together. I’ve heard some readers say they feel more comfortable at KGB than at school. There’s nicer lighting and hard liquor which helps some.
CC: Glad you brought up school readings. Talk to us about the differences (besides the cool lighting and on-point drink menu) between school readings and After Hours.
VV: The biggest difference, for me, is that TNS After Hours is a more relaxed setting and much more flexible. People usually read from the genre they are studying at school at the department readings, but students have been known to perform outside of their chosen genre at After Hours, encompassing music and theater as well. I also think that the allure of performing in a world-famous East Village bar adds something that feels special and professional, especially for writers who have moved to New York to join the program.
AV: It’s off-campus for one. It’s also open to the public. Friends and family, as well as strangers stumbling into the Red Room, can take a peek and watch our writers read. And while mostly current students read, it’s open to the entire New School Writing Community. We’ve had alumni, faculty (Lori Lynn Turner), and staff (Alexandra Kleeman) all read in the series.
CC: Why do you think it's important for writers (especially students) to read their work aloud?
VV: I have encountered dozens of people who confess to me that they have never read their work aloud, and those are the people I would encourage to read more than anyone else. Learning how to read your work aloud, and more importantly, learning how to perform, is an integral skill for writers. It not only allows you to get immediate and honest feedback on your writing (an audience never lies!), but it is also vital to how you will be able to communicate with audiences, impress agents, and find the kind of confidence that translates into better writing and a more successful career.
AV: After Hours is a supportive environment to practice your reading skills before hitting open mics and other more high-stakes readings. Plus, you make friends reading. Some of my best friends from the program have come from hearing them read and falling in love with their stories. After Hours and the on-campus Student Reading are the two events where students can be together as a community.
CC: I know from my own experience as a reader the audience is incredibly welcoming and kind. How in the world do you have such a cool audience time and time again?
VV: Most people who come to the After Hours readings are frequent readers and friends of the event, alumni and current students, which makes the event very community-oriented, friendly and relaxed. Something I dedicated myself to doing when I was the curator of the event, was to introduce myself to every person that walked into the space. Alex does the same thing. After Hours is about connecting people across the board to share stories, go on journeys, and to find inspiration from people around us.
AV: It’s crazy sweet. The New School Community feels special in the way we are supportive of each other. Maybe all MFA programs are like that, I don’t know. The last reading over Zoom was a love fest. It was our annual thesis reading and graduating students read from their projects and brought their best stuff. New School writers feel raw. We write about things we really care about and are brutally honest and vulnerable. I cried multiple times that night.
CC: I cried too. It was a glorious mushy love fest I will cherish forever.What will you cherish the most by managing After Hours?
VV: For me personally, I have been able to network with professors and alumni who I otherwise would not have had the opportunity to meet. I was able to learn about how the program has changed over the last two decades, and how alumni have been able to create their careers since leaving the program. And it’s not only motivational for me but also for the audience, who are mostly current students just dipping their toes into the literary world. The act of meeting new students on a monthly basis and being able to encourage them and help them make friends and learn about other opportunities to read, has been an extremely rewarding experience that has stuck with me after graduation.
AV: Beneficial to me? I get to invite my favorite writers to read and listen to their stories. I love watching writers read. As for the community, it brings us together for the purpose of supporting our readers and seeing each other’s faces. After Hours gives us an excuse to come together for a couple of hours every month. Nine to twelve writers share their work, and we are there for them, but also for the community.
CC: All this talk about the audience and community helps bring me to my next question about KGB. How did you snag such a cool spot?
VV: I think Hillary just liked the spot, and went in and asked if they had any open nights in their calendar. Lori Schwarz has been our contact from the very beginning, and she is just the coolest person to work with. She bartends the event every once in a while, and she always makes a point to be supportive. I learned from this experience that starting a reading series in New York City is not as hard as you would think. If you pick a neighborhood that you enjoy or a bar or restaurant that you would like to use as your space, it really is just a matter of walking in and asking if there are any nights that you could fill the space with a reading. Bars are usually really happy to host readings because it gives them business and a link to a new community.
AV: KGB host many other readings too, including other MFA student readings like NYU’s Creative Writing Program’s reading. Laura Cronk used to host the Monday Night Poetry Readings.
CC: Clearly, KGB is the place to be.But what’s your favorite thing about it?
VV: I grew up in the East Village so KGB has always been a place on my radar. I was always drawn to the fact that they support so many different kinds of live entertainment, from readings to jazz nights, to theater. I have also been drawn to their history as the only place for Ukrainian socialists to meet in secret in the 1950’s. The whole point of writing, and sharing it, is to have a voice, to go against the grain, to question society, and to innovate. KGB’s history stands as a strong metaphor for the job we have been tasked with as writers.
AV: My favorite is the mic. I feel crazy cool talking into it. All readers should practice on it before their reading. When we host in-person readings at KGB, we usually have time to practice with the mic. You have to be closer to it than you’d imagine. So when we return to the Red Room, I’ll be sure to have sanitary wipes on hand to use between readings. Another cool thing folks should know: The bathtub really works. I’ve turned it on. And I’ve recently been told about an elderberry martini that I’ve been missing out for two years. That will be my first drink when back in the Red Room.
CC: Speaking of sanitary wipes. You know where this is going. Let’s talk COVID-19. What’s been the biggest challenge switching from in-person readings to online due to this pandemic?
VV: I think the hardest part has been learning how to make an event feel “life-like” even though it’s taking place on a screen. Alex has been an inspiring director, spending time with readers the day before to make sure they have the right camera angles, lighting, and volume. She has also experimented with many different formats to allow for applause, smooth transitions between readers, and fun social mixers in between acts.
AV: The biggest challenge has been not having the physical space to hang out in after the reading. You can only be on Zoom for so long and how many times can you be put in a breakout room with strangers? I miss the after-party in the Red Room. The sound of the crowd jabbering together in the red booths or at the bar. That’s how I would gage a good reading by that sound. How loud and excited people were. I miss being with everyone in one space. And, not being able to take photos of the readers for our Instagram Account! Screenshots aren’t flattering.
CC: No, screenshots are not flattering. Did you see mine from the thesis reading? I looked like a deer in headlights, which was fitting since I read about them. But enough about me. And deer. Let’s end by talking about your hopes and dreams for the series in the future. Any advice to those who will host next?
VV: It’s hard to say, since I am not involved the way I used to be, but I will say that I am so happy that I picked Alex to take over for me when I graduated. She is an entertaining host, a competent leader, and genuinely cares about the event and its participants. I can’t wait to see what she does with it, and I can’t wait to be back in the Red Room with friends new and old.
AV: I feel super lucky I get to host for another year. I’m a dual student so will still be around. Hope we will get to return to KGB! But my advice to whoever will take over is know you aren’t alone. I will always support After Hours. Vinny has been a tremendous help this past year. Whenever I had a question or concern, she was only a text away. She was the one who reached out to me to get the reading on Zoom when the bars closed. As the world was in March, I was overwhelmed and couldn’t pull myself together to get the reading back on. Without Vinny’s push, I’m not sure we would have had a reading in May. Whoever will host next, you will never be alone in putting the reading together.
LaVonne Elaine Roberts is an American short story writer, essayist, and memoirist. She is LIT Magazine’s Live with LIT Editor, Cagibi Lit’s Interviews Editor, and the 2020 Diversity Fellow for Drizzle Review. Her essays, short stories, and poetry have been published widely, including in Our Stories, Too: Personal Narratives by Women, WordFest Anthology 2019, The Blue Mountain Review, LIT Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, Litro, among other publications. She is the founder of WRITE ON!, where she leads writing workshops and provides literature for marginalized voices. She resides in New York City, where she is completing an MFA at The New School and a memoir called Life On My Own Terms. Her work at Drizzle will include curation of a special issue on ageism in literature, due out in summer of 2020.
1. Who is your favorite villain, and who is your favorite protagonist in literature?
The villain that casts a shadow over most of my writing is mental illness. I spent my childhood wrestling with what it meant to be a child of a mentally ill parent and my adult life advocating for child welfare reform. Naturally, I am drawn to memoirists who write about how mental illness highjacked their lives, from The Glass Castle to Mrs. Dalloway.
James Baldwin is my favorite protagonist, hands down. He's many things to many people: an oracle, a prophet, a champion of black rights, and a voice that transcends gender norms, but to me, he's a kindred spirit. He was a writer with an arsenal of artistic talent and moral imagination in search of identity and home, a theme I wrestle with. Mostly, he reminds me to build my house with words."You don't ever leave home. You take your home with you. You better. You know, otherwise, you're homeless"—James Baldwin.
2. When did you know you were a writer?
I was a precocious child with a vivid imagination that grew from escaping life with a mentally ill parent. My first distinct memory was when I wrote a Christmas play in 1st grade. Sadly, since 6 year-olds don't follow directions well, my production never made it off the page and onto the stage. I've been writing my whole life, but it's only after I began publishing that I started calling myself a writer.
3. What are you currently working on?
My memoir, Life On My Own Terms, takes the reader on an emotional ride through the complicated landscapes of child abuse and mental illness to examine the effects of trauma on identity. My self-reflective journey through loss, trauma, and the significance of self-worth illustrates both the resiliency of the human spirit and the determination to discover one's own identity without a roadmap. Ultimately, this memoir is about the loss of self as a result of abuse and what can happen when it is reclaimed.
Ironically, quarantined in Manhattan in a pandemic has helped me find new ways to build community. At 57, it seems surreal that after 7 years of studying writing and completing an MFA that I won't walk across the stage with 89 other graduates. At the same time, I realize that people across the world are fighting for their lives. Frustrated, I started funneling my energy in taking my book reviews and interviews online at LIT Magazine. I've lined up literary agencies like Idea Architects and Aevitas Creative Management for roundtables and organized for Literistic.com to give my graduating class a subscription to their submission call service.
4 How has your writing process changed over the years?
My road to an MFA was long. In Austin, I was inspired by an inclusive writing community, made up of multiple colleges and professionals, that rocket-launched my writing journey. I spent two years learning rules at Bard College surrounded by incredible talent. I lovingly tell my friends that I left with a hard-earned degree in Written Arts and a friendship with Cliff, Bard’s beloved security guard because I was one of two students older than 23. The New School gave me the confidence to break “the rules” and to defend my voice in a community as diverse in culture as writing styles. Studying craft and immersing myself in literature taught me to interrogate self-identity in relation to systems of power and oppression. I now feel compelled to write in a way that is conscious raising because my education at The New School has empowered me to embrace "the personal is political."
5. Describe your writing style in one sentence.
I write stories about redemption and unlimited second chances because I believe in the power of reframing every character's narrative (myself included) from victim to survivor.
Five Questions, by Nicole L. Drayton. Nicole is a writer, screenwriter and independent filmmaker based in Brooklyn, NY. She holds a Bachelor of Science in Liberal Arts from The New School, and currently works for the university in the MFA in Creative Writing Program office.
Jessica Gross has contributed to The Los Angeles Review of Books, The New York Times Magazine, and Longreads, among other places. Her debut novel, Hysteria, comes out in August.
1. Who is your favorite villain, and who is your favorite protagonist in literature?
Lolita's Humbert Humbert is by far my favorite villain-protagonist. Visiting his perverse mind is such a thrill.
2. When did you know you were a writer?
I wish I could say I first self-identified as a writer when I started writing, but the truth is it wasn't until my nonfiction was first published that I really felt comfortable using that moniker. (Over-investment in external validation: sigh.) But to answer the question differently, I knew I loved writing when I was a kid and would scribble half-stories on legal pads from my dad's office. (The protagonists were mostly kids who watched Full House -- exciting stuff!)
3. What are you currently working on?
My first novel, Hysteria, is coming out this August, so I'm mainly working on attempting to be calm. I'm also a few chapters into writing a new book, so I'm excited and relieved about that.
4 How has your writing process changed over the years?
Though in childhood I often wrote by hand, by high school I wrote exclusively by computer. My adulthood has been a long process of reacquainting myself with the wonders of writing and revising by hand. I don't exclusively write this way, but I do find it's a surer pathway toward discovery and surprise.
5. Describe your writing style in one sentence.
I love similes almost as much as I love em dashes.
Five Questions, by Nicole L. Drayton. Nicole is a writer, screenwriter and independent filmmaker based in Brooklyn, NY. She holds a Bachelor of Science in Liberal Arts from The New School, and currently works for the university in the MFA in Creative Writing Program office.
Sam Farahmand on “Standing Out From the Sameness of Everything”
By Carissa Chesanek
New School MFA alum, Sam Farahmand recently published his debut novel, Chimeroin January 2020. Carissa Chesanek spoke with Sam about the structure of his book, why the beach always feels like home, and how his time in grad school helped figure out what he didn’t want to do. Purchase a copy of Chimerohere.
There's a lot of fun structural aspects to your novel, such as no question marks after questions, no chapter titles (only white space), no quotation marks, etc. Can you talk about how you decided to structure it this way? What were you looking to achieve?
A question about question marks feels like the perfect place to start—and again, I really appreciate you taking the time to think on the novel—because, in my experience at least, there is always this moment when you’re working on something when you start to feel less like the writer of the thing and more like the reader. I suppose the structural aspects were as much for me to make sense of the thing at the time as they are for the reader at this time, for the moment when the reader starts to feel like the writer.
The novel isn’t necessarily stream-of-consciousness in that strictly streaming sort of sense, but I think the novel is still in essence trying to get at the experiential nature of existence—with time being much more spatial than a traditional a to b plot and that sort of thing. While it isn’t free of form, or particularly freeform, I was hoping the form it is in is freeing and might function to create some more space for a reader.
The narrator is unreliable and unnamed. Did you always know this would be the case or did it come to you after you started writing?
This is a wonderful question and a hard one to answer. I think I is already so full of possibility as it is—and, of course, in the case of the narrator, providing a lot of potential for paralysis—so the narrator is as much who the narrator is as he is who he isn’t. I don’t think I would’ve been able to address that right from the outset in another way, though maybe this also goes back to your question about the structural aspects and being in the no.
I should also say that I’m not the best with names, so it might be possible that when I started I’d been meaning to name the narrator but just forgot the narrator’s name, but either way, I think I almost always start by overwriting then working my way inward.
The topic of "a lost generation" (not to be confused with "the lost generation") was discussed in the book. Can you explain what a lost generation is in this world and how you feel it applies to society in our world today?
Lost but not least, I think, could be a way to sum up alost generation as opposed to the lost generation. The difference between an a and a the seems to be significant to the narrator, who is trying to find the the hidden in all of the a’s—someone who, or even something that, stands out from the sameness of everything in their lives. That the characters start off by making so much of the difference between a and the reminds me of the significance placed on just a handful of letters to this generation, at least to the ones with all their degrees, and their subsequent insignificance.
There was always this notion of "going to the beach" the following day, and whether or not the narrator would actually go. What do you feel the beach really represents in this story?
Thank you for throwing in a beach ball question. Maybe it’s only because I’m a writer from Los Angeles, but going to the beach has always put things in perspective for me. The ocean always reminds me how insignificant I am, and the beach might be the only place where I feel at home. Strangely enough, when we started this interview, I was working on an essay about trying to get to the beach the last time I was in Los Angeles, so I suppose I haven’t outgrown the significance of the beach to me.
As for what the beach represents, I was thinking just the other day, with this essay I am working on, that I am closer to nothing than I am to everything but have more in common with everything than I do nothing. Maybe that’s one of those mean median things, but those seem to be the sorts of thoughts I have when I think of the beach.
I believe I read in another interview that you were working on this book during your MFA, correct? What were your desires for this book during that time? Did you expect it to be simply a thesis project or hoped to get it published?
Fortunately I’ve outgrown the hopes I had for the book when I was working on it during my MFA, but yeah, I’d always hoped it would turn into something. I don’t think I have enough of an ego to say this is all done without ego, but what I’ve learned since that time is that it already means a lot to be able to work on writing, even without thinking about anything other than the writing, and that people who work to get things published are called publishers.
What's the one best thing you feel you got out of your time at The New School?
Other than the opportunity to be interviewed to promote this novel, I met some very fine friends and faculty who, for some reason, are still incredibly kind to me and my writing. I also read a lot of work I wouldn’t have read if I hadn’t been given the time and space to do so by The New School. Higher education, in my experience, isn’t about figuring out what you want to do as much as it’s about finding out what you don’t want to do. The New School gave me the time to sort out what I wanted to do while putting me in a space to see what I didn’t want to do.
How's the writing going during this pandemic? What are some things that help inspire you now? Are they the same things that normally inspire you or something completely different?
I’m very fortunate that things are sort of the same for me as far as writing at this time, because structure has always been the most inspiring thing for me when it comes to writing—both the structure of whatever it is I’m working on and the surrounding structure that allows me to work on what I’m working on. I’ve always worked on writing in the mornings, and I still try to work on writing every morning, so I suppose as long as there are mornings, I’ll still try to work on writing.
What is different for me at this time is that I have had some more time to read, which has been good, though I’ve always been more inspired by artists who aren’t writers. But then again, I also have more time to listen to music and to watch films and think about them too. The two working artists who have probably had the most profound influence on me are the musician Lana Del Rey and the filmmaker Terrence Malick, and they’ve both had some new work within the past year. I’ve been thinking about the album Norman Fucking Rockwell! and the film A Hidden Life while working on what I’m working on. Both feel like relevant works for this time too.
Can you tell us what you're working on next?
Yeah, right now I’m working on a series of essays about a number of musicians I have admired, either from near or from afar, since moving to Nashville almost two years ago. I should say that after I finished this first novel I wrote another two novels, which more or less complete the cycle started in the first one—as much as one can complete a circle—but after that I worked on a lot of nonfiction. I might try to start working on another novel, maybe sometime this summer, but we’ll see.
Carissa Chesanek has worked as a journalist for many years, writing for publications that include The Rumpus, Food Network, The Village Voice, Miami Herald, and Zagat. She is a current MFA Creative Writing (fiction) student at The New School and a volunteer writing mentor for PEN America's prison writing program.
Born in North Carolina and based in New York City, Whitney Kenerly is a writer, music critic, and journalist.
1. Who is your favorite villain, and who is your favorite protagonist in literature?
To me, the best antagonist isn’t a character—it’s fate. I find the inevitable really tragic in that sort of classical way. We will all age. We will all die. We all have things in our futures that we won’t be able to control. There’s something profound about that.
Growing up, I felt like every female protagonist was some small, demure girl who was trying to overcome her shyness and find her voice. I could not relate less. I was always too loud, too opinionated, and too smart-mouthed. Then I was introduced to Jo March in Little Women. That electric moment of recognizing myself on the page will always be close to my heart
2. When did you know you were a writer?
In second grade, we started the “Writer’s Workshop” curriculum. We each had a laminated folder where we could keep our drafts and were encouraged to free-write for an hour a few times a week. All the other students dreaded it. Like, there were audible groans when our teacher would announce it was time to write. I was like, “THIS IS FREEDOM!!!” It felt so liberating to have permission to be as weird and creative as I wanted. I remember two of my story titles: “Tick, Tock: Banana Clock” and “Part 2 of the Tale of the Iridescent Goo” (there was no Part 1). With that said, a professor once told me, “Never call yourself a writer. Just be a person who writes,” and that has always stuck with me. I only know I’m a writer when I’m writing.
3. What are you currently working on?
For my thesis, I’m writing a lot of critical essays about music culture in this post-Napster internet era. We’ve lost physical record stores, we don’t make mixtapes for each other anymore, and we let algorithms pick the background soundtracks for our days. I think that has changed us in ways that we have yet to fully understand.
4. How has your writing process changed over the years?
I exclusively write in bed now.
5. Describe your writing style in one sentence.
I hope that I make people think while I’m making them laugh.
Five Questions, by Nicole L. Drayton. Nicole is a writer, screenwriter and independent filmmaker based in Brooklyn, NY. She holds a Bachelor of Science in Liberal Arts from The New School, and currently works for the university in the MFA in Creative Writing Program office.
Due to community concerns about COVID-19, the 2020 Summer Writers Colony cannot run as planned. In lieu of an on-campus offering, we are offering Summer Online Writing Immersion workshops in fiction, nonfiction, and poetry, available for three credits or at the noncredit level. Literary Salons have also been adapted into online courses, available for one credit each or on a noncredit basis. Matriculated New School students can view a list of credit offerings in the University Course Catalog. You can view noncredit offerings or credit offerings for non-matriculated students via our Open Campus website. For guidance on which credit option, workshop, and literary salon(s) is best for you, please write to summerwriters@newschool.edu.
2020 Summer Writing Workshop Faculty, June 1-18, 2020
Monday through Thursday: Asynchronous readings, discussions, assignments.
Tuesdays and Thursdays from 3-5 PM: Zoom workshops and discussions
Fridays: One-on-one consultations and Student Readings
Undergraduate students can earn up to 6 credits for transfer.
2020 Weekly Salon Visiting Writers
Salons meet online three times: twice for intensive discussion among the class and instructor, and a third time with the author for a reading and discussion.
Edwidge Danticat, author of Everything Inside, fiction and nonfiction writer, and MacArthur Fellow Juliana Huxtable, author of Mucus in My Pineal Gland, visual artist, poet, performer, and DJ Trisha Low, author of Socialist Realism, essayist, and performance artist Sarah Schulman, author of The Cosmopolitans, novelist, playwright, and AIDS historian Aaron Smith, author of The Book of Daniel, Lambda Literary Award finalist, and poet R. Eric Thomas, author of Here for It, memoirist, political and pop culture columnist, and playwright
Creative Writing at The New School
The New School has been a vital center for writing since 1931. Over the years, our writing and literature faculty has included many of America's most acclaimed poets, novelists, and nonfiction writers. The Summer Writers Colony alone has brought some of today's most exciting writers to join us in Greenwich Village, including Joan Acocela, Russell Banks, Paul Beatty, Jericho Brown, Stephanie Burt, Anne Carson, Lucille Clifton, Teju Cole, Billy Collins, Lydia Davis, Jennifer Egan, Stephen Elliot, Jeffrey Eugenides, Mary Gaitskill, Sarah Gerard, Louise Glück, Jorie Graham, Jhumpa Lahiri, Layli Long Soldier, Leslie Jamison, Lisa Ko, Dorothea Lasky, Rick Moody, Maggie Nelson, Joyce Carol Oates, Jenny Offill, Robyn Schiff, Gary Shteyngart, Brando Skyhorse, Tracy K. Smith, John Jeremiah Sullivan, James Tate, Lynne Tillman, Hannah Tinti, Jean Valentine, Colson Whitehead, and Kevin Young.
Jochebed "Jo" Smith is a senior and Riggio scholar in the undergraduate BPATS program. She currently serves as the fiction editor for 12th Street Journal. Her dog, Kershaw, enjoys crashing zoom calls and is allergic to poultry.
1. Who is your favorite villain, and who is your favorite protagonist in literature?
My favorite villain would probably be Lady Macbeth. I admire her ambition. My favorite protagonist would have to be Jo March, for obvious reasons.
2. When did you know you were a writer?
The first time I ever got published was so bizarrely unlikely that it felt like I could henceforth be known as nothing else. I was 25 and miserable, living in Los Angeles and trudging through community college. I was aimless. I was literally bagging groceries when I got the news and the idea of being published was something so seemingly impossible that when it became completely real, it felt as if being named a writer was a stamp upon me, like I had no choice but to shrug and bear the title.
3. What are you currently working on?
My thesis, I SWEAR.
4. How has your writing process changed over the years?
As of now, with the madness of the times, my process has almost completely stalled. It’s been difficult to wrap my head around anything but feeding myself, walking my dog, and finishing Ozark on Netflix. To try and get back into my typical, not-in-the-epicenter-of-a-global-pandemic process, I’ve started doing activities around writing that isn’t exactly writing but might eventually bear fruit, like making playlists and mood boards of how I want my work to look and sound and feel. It’s been fun to think about the work in this three-dimensional way. Hopefully it comes across in the writing as well, should I ever write again.
5. Describe your writing style in one sentence.
Death-related magical realist crises of the heart (I am a lot of fun at dinner parties—remember those??).
Five Questions, by Nicole L. Drayton. Nicole is a writer, screenwriter and independent filmmaker based in Brooklyn, NY. She holds a Bachelor of Science in Liberal Arts from The New School, and currently works for the university in the MFA in Creative Writing Program office.