Jessica Gross

How did you become a writer?

The simple answer is that I’ve wanted to be a novelist since I was a child. The longer answer: it took many years and many discursions until I had the courage and resilience to really try writing fiction (and showing it to people!). I’d written fiction up through college, but once I graduated, I stopped for years. I did Teach For America for two months; quit and worked at a startup; went to journalism school; and worked as a freelance journalist. It wasn’t until I started taking classes with the amazing Beth Ann Bauman at The Writer’s Voice in Manhattan that I returned to writing fiction in my late twenties. Beth created just the kind of space I needed: supportive, warm, and playful—and not at the expense of rigor. And so I started writing again. 

Name your writing influences (writers, books, teachers, etc.).

Beyond Beth, I’m indebted to so many gifted, generous wonderful writing teachers. In college, Gabe Hudson taught me how to play on the page. At NYU’s program in Cultural Reporting and Criticism, Katie Roiphe expanded my notion of what was possible on the page, and Susie Linfield taught me how to write—that is, how to think—with relentless clarity. In the New School’s MFA program, where I wrote my debut novel Hysteria, Helen Schulman interrogated my writing while also nurturing me; Darcey Steinke encouraged me to lean into my weirder impulses; Luis Jaramillo’s novel-writing course was a revelation; and Katie Kitamura’s incisive feedback as my advisor helped shape my manuscript. As far as influences I’ve met on the page, they’re far too many to count.

When and where do you write?

Mostly in the mornings, at the kitchen table. 

What are you working on now?

A new novel!

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block?

I prefer to think of it as “writer’s fear.” There are so many kinds of fear that can repel me from the page: fear of writing poorly; fear of writing my way to something I’m not ready to see; fear of others’ judgment. I could go on. It’s been helpful to me to set aside just half an hour each day to write. I can keep going, but I don’t have to. That makes it less scary: how much can really happen in half an hour? (Well, a lot. But don’t tell future-me—the one who’s going to wake up tomorrow and do it again.)   

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received?

Almost all the good stuff happens in revision.

What’s your advice to new writers?

Have fun.

Jessica Gross’s writing has appeared in The New York Times MagazineLongreads, and The Los Angeles Review of Books, among other places. Her debut novel, Hysteria, was published by Unnamed Press in August 2020.

Tatiana Ryckman

How did you become a writer?

By writing. 

Name your writing influences (writers, books, teachers, etc.).

Working with Diane Lefer my first semester at VCFA changed my life. She had me read books that showed me entirely new possibilities for what writing could be. Since then my favorite authors have been the ones to upset my understanding of what I'm "allowed" to do on the page. Some of those writers are Marguerite Duras, Italo Calvino, Micheline Aharonian Marcom, Miranda July, Donald Barthelme. Of course there are classics that get under the skin, The Great Gatsby, Tortilla Flat, 100 Years of Solitude, The Florida Keys: A History & Guide

When and where do you write? 

It seems to happen when I'm moving--walking, on a plane, in a car. 

What are you working on now? 

I'm not working on anything specific, but I am thinking a lot about swans. 

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block? 

I have stopped beating myself up over not being more prolific, so I guess I wouldn't call periods of not writing writer's block, which is a phrase that says more about feeling anxious about not writing than the relationship between pen and paper. 

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received?

It's a lesson I've learned from visual arts: process over product. Who can write a book? Who even knows what a book is before it's a book? It's too much. Write a sentence, if you're lucky, there will be a second.

What’s your advice to new writers?

Get plenty of rest, eat well, don't smoke cigarettes, stay hydrated, get outside, be kind to yourself and others. 

Tatiana Ryckman is the author of the novel, The Ancestry of Objects, the novella, I Don't Think of You (Until I Do), and two chapbooks of prose, Twenty-Something and VHS and Why it's Hard to Live. Tatiana is the Editor of Awst Press and has attended residencies at Yaddo, Arthub, and 100W Corsicana.

Maxim Loskutoff

How did you become a writer?

For me, it wasn't a process of becoming, I always was. I started inventing complicated stories when I was a toddler, much to the confusion of my parents, and in first grade I filled a notebook with a novel about a seadog named Ray who is constantly having to save his hapless captain. The process of becoming a writer as a career was really a process of letting myself be myself. It's what I always wanted to do--telling stories, trying to understand this strange journey of human life--and the decisions I made were to give myself no other options but to pursue it. Quitting my day job, living for a time out of my van, I've found that betting on myself in extreme circumstances is a way of showing confidence and self love. Saying, "Do what you want, what choice do you have?"

Name your writing influences (writers, books, teachers, etc.).

I was blessed to study with David Foster Wallace for four years at Pomona College, which was bar-none the transformative learning experience of my life. His voice guides me still, and he was the first person to truly believe in my work. He gave an incredible amount of time, effort, and dedication to all of us students, which I find even more amazing now that I'm older and have had students of my own. I have three writers of the modern west whose books I return to again and again: Denis Johnson, Leslie Marmon Silko, and Charles Bowden. They lit the path I'm fumbling my way upon, here in the mountains.

When and where do you write?

Wherever I am when the inspiration seizes me. I'm not a believer in writing every day in a certain place for a set amount of time. When I quit my last job, I vowed not to recreate the pressure of a fixed schedule in my own head--to essentially be the kind of boss I'd already had. I always imagine a cup full of words inside me, and when I empty it out, it needs time to refill. So there are months where I'm in a cabin on a lake and I write constantly, thousands and thousands of words, followed by a month or two when I won't write at all. Trusting my mind to know which story is mine to tell, and that it will emerge when it's ready.

What are you working on now?

A novel about the Unabomber entitled OLD KING. Really, it's more about the town of Lincoln where he lived, and how the west changed over the course of his bombings. His story has been in my head for so long. I was 11 when he was caught, having spent my early childhood playing in the Montana woods and imagining some great evil lurking there. Then, just as I was starting middle school and turning away from such games, he was caught. My imaginings had been true in a sense, and I was thrown sharply back into that wild, dark world. Complicated by the fact that the environmental issues he was fighting for were those I felt so strongly as well.

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block? 

No, I would never call it that. Again I have long periods where I don't write, but nothing is blocked, it's just refilling.

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received?

This may sound harsh, but it's stuck with me since college and I attempt to use it to shape my life: "Writing will always take more than it can give, so you need to find other things to sustain you." Getting my hands in the dirt, camping, hiking mountains, swimming in lakes. Being in the world. Writing is a journey into the mind, and a pouring out of what you find there. It can be isolating and dislocating, so I strive to find joy in the beauty of the physical world, and small daily tasks. Remembering I have a body as well as a mind.

What’s your advice to new writers?

Don't write down every idea or detail or story that you think of. Learn to trust your mind as your own best editor. When I started writing, I always carried a notebook and wrote down everything I thought of, and then I would end up with notebook after notebook full of ideas, totally overwhelming when I opened them, and I never finished any of the stories. Now when I have an idea I don't write it down. I wait, and if it's still there in a few days, if my brain has cared enough to remember and chew on it, I know it's a story for me, and usually I finish it.

Raised in small towns in the west, Maxim Loskutoff is the critically acclaimed author of RUTHIE FEAR and COME WEST AND SEE, an NPR and Amazon Best Book of 2018, a New York Times Editor’s Pick, and winner of the High Plains Book Award. His stories and essays have appeared in numerous periodicals, including the New York Times, Chicago Tribune, Ploughshares, and Playboy. He lives in the Rocky Mountains of western Montana.