Your trusty BondGirl Superfriend here with a (sort of) surprise (I stopped getting married long enough to finish it) interview with my Superfriend and one of the most generous writers I know, Kelly Link.

Kelly Link writes the most excellent short fiction. No, really. And I’m not just saying that — other people think so too. To totally steal from the bio linked above, here’s Kelly, in case you don’t know who she is:

Kelly Link’s collection, Stranger Things Happen, was a Firecracker nominee, a Village Voice Favorite Book and a Salon Book of the Year — Salon called the collection “…an alchemical mixture of Borges, Raymond Chandler, and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” Stories from the collection have won the Nebula, the James Tiptree Jr., and the World Fantasy Awards.

Kelly has taught or visited at a number of schools and workshops including Bard College, Annandale-on-Hudson, NY, Brookdale Community College, Brookdale, NJ, Lenoir-Rhyne College, Hickory, NC, the Imagination Workshop at Cleveland State University, New England Institute of Art & Communications, Brookline, MA, Clarion East at Michigan State University, and Clarion West in Seattle, WA. She is an editor for the Online Writing Workshop and has been a reader and judge for various literary awards. With Gavin J. Grant and Ellen Datlow she edits The Year’s Best Fantasy & Horror (St. Martin’s Press). She is also the editor of the anthology, Trampoline.

Kelly lives in Northampton, MA, and is currently working on a new collection of stories. She received her BA from Columbia University and her MFA from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. Kelly and her husband, Gavin J. Grant, publish a twice-yearly zine, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet — as well as books — as Small Beer Press.

So, let’s get to the interview wherein the release date and other information about her BRAND NEW collection of stories emerges, despite my inability to ask interesting questions (except about zombies). Oh, and you should buy and read or listen to everything mentioned, but I really, really was too lazy to link to everything.

***********

Gwenda: So, let’s start with a question you’ve gotten a thousand times and are bored sick of but no doubt can answer easily – what made you decide to start Small Beer Press and what was the process of getting out the first two books like?

Kelly: We’d been putting out a zine, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, twice a year for two or three years, and so we had a rough idea of how much it cost to put out a zine or a chapbook or a book, and how many you had to sell to break even. We were interested in making something that looked like a book. The goal was always to break even.

I owe a large debt to other artists who have self-published. I was a faithful reader (and later a bewildered reader) of Dave Sim’s Cerebus. There are musicians like Sonic Youth and Gillian Welch and John Wesley Harding who have started their own labels, or put out their own music — Ani DiFranco and Aimee Mann and Natalie Merchant. I like the DIY, zine-y approach. Oh yeah, and I’m a control freak.

We realized that if we could publish my collection, then we could publish other people as well. I was a huge fan of Ray Vukcevich’s short stories, and after we ran into him at a convention in Texas, we asked if he had enough stories for a collection. Publishing my own book was messy. It was an act of indefensible hubris. I didn’t know how to edit myself into book form. You’re not supposed to publish yourself. Working on Ray’s collection was a kind of reward for deciding to start a press to publish my own collection. Ray was a delight to work with. I got to read his stories over and over again.

I loved designing the books, and I loved being able to ask Shelley Jackson to provide cover art for my book. All of the minutiae of book design and copyediting and proofreading turned out to be enormously satisying work. Much better than simply writing the stories. I grumbled about it at the time, but even writing the jacket copy for Stranger Things Happen was relatively enjoyable.

The unexpected thing about book publishing was that we were able, with a
great deal of help, to figure out how to do it, how to make things that looked like the sort of book which I would want to pick up and read. Publishing books turned out to be a lot easier than I expected it would be. Meanwhile, lots of unexpected things were going on outside of starting Small Beer Press. In 2001, George W. Bush somehow ended up being president after all. Gavin and I got married. We got married eleven days after September 11th. In March of 2001, Jenna Felice, an editor at Tor Books, died suddenly. She was a close friend, a neighbor in Brooklyn, and part of a community of writers and editors and small press publishers. It was a relief to have a project to work on, after her death, but it was also difficult, because she had been so much a part of our everyday life, and in helping us figure out all of the things we needed to figure out, in order to start a press and publish books.

Gwenda: Well, the exciting news is that you’ve written enough new stories for a collection and will be putting one out through Small Beer in 2005. Tell me about this new book. What will be in it? Does it have a name yet? Whatchya working on?
Continue reading →

Your trusty BondGirl Superfriend here with a (sort of) surprise (I stopped getting married long enough to finish it) interview with my Superfriend and one of the most generous writers I know, Kelly Link.

Kelly Link writes the most excellent short fiction. No, really. And I’m not just saying that — other people think so too. To totally steal from the bio linked above, here’s Kelly, in case you don’t know who she is:

Kelly Link’s collection, Stranger Things Happen, was a Firecracker nominee, a Village Voice Favorite Book and a Salon Book of the Year — Salon called the collection “…an alchemical mixture of Borges, Raymond Chandler, and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” Stories from the collection have won the Nebula, the James Tiptree Jr., and the World Fantasy Awards.

Kelly has taught or visited at a number of schools and workshops including Bard College, Annandale-on-Hudson, NY, Brookdale Community College, Brookdale, NJ, Lenoir-Rhyne College, Hickory, NC, the Imagination Workshop at Cleveland State University, New England Institute of Art & Communications, Brookline, MA, Clarion East at Michigan State University, and Clarion West in Seattle, WA. She is an editor for the Online Writing Workshop and has been a reader and judge for various literary awards. With Gavin J. Grant and Ellen Datlow she edits The Year’s Best Fantasy & Horror (St. Martin’s Press). She is also the editor of the anthology, Trampoline.

Kelly lives in Northampton, MA, and is currently working on a new collection of stories. She received her BA from Columbia University and her MFA from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. Kelly and her husband, Gavin J. Grant, publish a twice-yearly zine, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet — as well as books — as Small Beer Press.

So, let’s get to the interview wherein the release date and other information about her BRAND NEW collection of stories emerges, despite my inability to ask interesting questions (except about zombies). Oh, and you should buy and read or listen to everything mentioned, but I really, really was too lazy to link to everything.

***********

Gwenda: So, let’s start with a question you’ve gotten a thousand times and are bored sick of but no doubt can answer easily – what made you decide to start Small Beer Press and what was the process of getting out the first two books like?

Kelly: We’d been putting out a zine, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, twice a year for two or three years, and so we had a rough idea of how much it cost to put out a zine or a chapbook or a book, and how many you had to sell to break even. We were interested in making something that looked like a book. The goal was always to break even.

I owe a large debt to other artists who have self-published. I was a faithful reader (and later a bewildered reader) of Dave Sim’s Cerebus. There are musicians like Sonic Youth and Gillian Welch and John Wesley Harding who have started their own labels, or put out their own music — Ani DiFranco and Aimee Mann and Natalie Merchant. I like the DIY, zine-y approach. Oh yeah, and I’m a control freak.

We realized that if we could publish my collection, then we could publish other people as well. I was a huge fan of Ray Vukcevich’s short stories, and after we ran into him at a convention in Texas, we asked if he had enough stories for a collection. Publishing my own book was messy. It was an act of indefensible hubris. I didn’t know how to edit myself into book form. You’re not supposed to publish yourself. Working on Ray’s collection was a kind of reward for deciding to start a press to publish my own collection. Ray was a delight to work with. I got to read his stories over and over again.

I loved designing the books, and I loved being able to ask Shelley Jackson to provide cover art for my book. All of the minutiae of book design and copyediting and proofreading turned out to be enormously satisying work. Much better than simply writing the stories. I grumbled about it at the time, but even writing the jacket copy for Stranger Things Happen was relatively enjoyable.

The unexpected thing about book publishing was that we were able, with a
great deal of help, to figure out how to do it, how to make things that looked like the sort of book which I would want to pick up and read. Publishing books turned out to be a lot easier than I expected it would be. Meanwhile, lots of unexpected things were going on outside of starting Small Beer Press. In 2001, George W. Bush somehow ended up being president after all. Gavin and I got married. We got married eleven days after September 11th. In March of 2001, Jenna Felice, an editor at Tor Books, died suddenly. She was a close friend, a neighbor in Brooklyn, and part of a community of writers and editors and small press publishers. It was a relief to have a project to work on, after her death, but it was also difficult, because she had been so much a part of our everyday life, and in helping us figure out all of the things we needed to figure out, in order to start a press and publish books.

Gwenda: Well, the exciting news is that you’ve written enough new stories for a collection and will be putting one out through Small Beer in 2005. Tell me about this new book. What will be in it? Does it have a name yet? Whatchya working on?
Continue reading →

On Friday, 49 people saw the premiere of Wrestling an Alligator. Which means we sold out (I think). I wasn’t able to completely read the audience reaction from the booth, but we got laughs, gasps, applause, and at least one positive review. Our cast did spectacularly well and we were praised to the nines by audience members while I was loading the van. All of which was far more than I hoped for.

I can’t say enough great words about the people who run the San Francisco Fringe Festival (much less the surprise audience members who showed up on Friday). All of them have been extremely kind and supportive. And if you’re in the San Francisco area, I highly encourage you to check out the numerous shows presented.

And then there’s us. There are still three more opportunities to see us. Location again is the Exit at Taylor theatre, located at 277 Taylor Street.

The three remaining shows are:

Friday, 9/17/04: 10:00 PM
Saturday, 9/18/04: 4:00 PM
Sunday, 9/19/04: 2:30 PM

Please be sure to join the fun. Only $8!

Now excuse me while I go collapse.

Jonathan Demme’s remake of The Manchurian Candidate is actually quite good. Lots of great details, fantastic sound design, and creepy eyelines directed to the audience. Even Miguel “Ass Kicking Motherfucking” Ferrer shows up. For those who’ve seen the movie (and we do mean those who’ve seen the movie — there’s lotsa spoilers being bandied about), there’s a good discussion going over at Liz’s.

First off, happy new marraige to Bondgirl, who was kind enough to offer many entries here in my absence (appearances here are still scant for the next two weeks).

Did Sam Tanenhaus earn his brownie during the past two weeks? Really, I wouldn’t know. There hasn’t been time to read. And this morning, my New York Times arrived without the Book Review section. (Am I on a list, Tanenhaus?) Nevertheless, when the play is over, we’ll keep Tanenhaus Watch alive until Sam shows that he can do better. These are the stats that dreams are made of.

The play: Last night, we had our tech run and, aside from a few technical glitches that we’ll be fixing this week, it went well. Kirk White, our designated techie, was very quick and helpful in giving us the lighting moods we were happy with. Kirk was very patient with the apparent “scale” of technical elements and “large cast” of four that we had included. In fact, Saturday night was the only time the stage manager and I raised our voices during our entire production run. “What the hell is going on?” I shouted when our opening music played through the first three minutes of the play (instead of the first minute) and when our curtain call drowned out the last line. Yes, these things happen. Fortunately, we found a solution by scaling down our sound FX a tad.

The actors all lit up like unexpected kilowatts coming back from the late 90’s California power crisis — this, I might add, after two full runthroughs that day. (Our play has no scene changes and has a good deal of physical comedy and crazed timing.) I was actually very surprised to see that the extra depth at the Exit at Taylor (compared to our rehearsal space, at least) really enhanced our blocking. It helped tremendously that we kept our rehearsal space to about 80% of the actual dimensions of the theatre. Our rehearsal space, however, was on a slight dais. I was very worried about this, because we had blocked a lot of action behind the desk. I figured it would show up alright, but I couldn’t always see the behind-desk action it at our rehearsal space. Fortunately, the Exit at Taylor’s theatre is set at a fixed level, it ended up working out.

The alligator painting arrived at the eleventh hour. We finally added it to the set yesterday afternoon and it really helped to sell some of our jokes and the chiaroschuro aesthetic subtext we attempted.

The show has turned out to be incredible. For all of the hardships, the lack of sleep, the depleting funds, and what have you, I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. I feel as if I’ve given birth to something. When I told our key stagehand during some unknown post-midnight hour, he replied, “What have you given birth to?” He’s right, of course. At this point, I’m horribly biased in favor of the play. We’ll see what happens when the audience reviews start trickling in.

(And, yes, Bondgirl, there are several James Bond references in the play.)