Catherine Dang

How did you become a writer?

My parents owned a liquor store when I was a kid, and occasionally my sister and I were stuck there. We did our homework and read books in the backroom, but I’d get bored. That was when I started writing short stories in a notebook. They were often about shows that I wished I was watching instead.

I was a pragmatic kid. Writing never seemed like a “real” career. I figured I was supposed to do something more realistic, like law. Since my family never had much money, I wanted to change that in my own future.

I botched those plans in college, though. I told myself that I was only taking fiction and screenwriting classes for “fun.” But I think a part of me just wanted to test the waters. I wanted to see how my writing stacked up to my peers. I wanted to see if I could commit to writing whole projects. I started with poems, then short stories. Then I finished an entire two-hour screenplay for my thesis. And I understood that I was a decent writer.

I knew I was going to regret it if I didn’t take writing seriously. I wanted to give myself at least one chance to fail. So right after graduation, I started work on the manuscript that would become Nice Girls. I also entered the workforce. I got a day job, I hated the day job, and then I left the day job in 10 months. That experience changed my life, though. It made me desperate enough to finish Nice Girls. It kept me disciplined enough to edit the manuscript. And I began querying agents right after. Slowly, things took off from there.

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

I was a "Reading Rainbow" kid. LeVar Burton told stories in such a captivating way—he made me want to read everything. I also watched a lot of anime and true crime in childhood, then movies as a teenager. I think all those experiences taught me the mechanics of a good story.

Judy Blume and Sylvia Plath are probably the two biggest influences in my own fiction writing. Their novels felt so honest and confessional, and I happened to read them at the right times in my life. They resonated with me deeply. Blume gave me comfort, and Plath seemed to understand me. I’ve always wanted my own writing to have that same undercurrent of honest emotion. It doesn’t matter how light or brutal the feeling—it just has to feel real.

I also admire distinct prose. I love Sally Rooney, Ocean Vuong, and Haruki Murakami. Their prose is sparse and delves into the mundane (Murakami loves his food descriptions!), but they know how to pack an emotional punch. On the other hand, I’ve also been struck by Cormac McCarthy’s and Ta-Nehisi Coates’ prose. I read The Road and Between the World and Me in two entirely different summers. But the writing had the same kind of magic: just beautiful, elegant, winding prose about some of the most painful, brutal things. Their writing lingers.

I’m someone who gets influenced by a little of everything—music, articles, the way people talk. I even get impressed by memes.

When and where do you write?

I usually write in the mornings at home. But when I’m in a slump, I like to go to a coffee shop and pretend that I’m as productive as the people around me.

What are you working on now?

I’m working on my next novel. I told myself it would be lighter. So far, it’s…bloodier.

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block?

It hits me fairly often. For me, writer’s block can happen for a multitude of reasons: I’m bored, I’m not inspired, something in the book feels “off.” If I’m feeling really stubborn, I’ll keep chipping away at the writing. Sometimes a good run or exercise helps get rid of the block. Other times, I get out of that funk by consuming other stories, whether it’s reading a book or watching a movie. I like experiencing someone else’s creation—it motivates me to get back into my own work. And honestly, some of the best writing comes after the writer’s block.

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

The one Nike ad: “Yesterday you said tomorrow.”

What’s your advice to new writers?

Talent is good; resolve is better.

Catherine Dang is a former legal assistant based in Minneapolis, Minnesota. She is a graduate of the University of Minnesota. Nice Girls is her first novel.

Zak Salih

How did you become a writer?

It started out as just a bit of fun with a childhood friend of mine. We’d write these slapdash, nonsensical stories about monsters, famous people, or our classmates more as a way to have fun with my father’s electric typewriter than to tell an actual story. And then one day, when I was probably 15 or 16, I sat down by myself at the new family computer to write a story more like the kinds of stories I was reading at the time (I was a huge Stephen King junkie). After that, my love of writing, and my desire to be a writer, just never really went away.

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

I credit my English teachers—in high school, in college, in graduate school—with shaping how I think about writing. Because of them, I was exposed to so many wonderful novels and stories I would never have encountered on my own. While I’ve never taken a writing course at the college level, I like to think these teachers helped me learn how to write better by showing me how to read better. Thanks to them, I’m not rudderless when I sit down at my desk. 

When and where do you write? 

I balance my fiction with my day job writing marketing copy. I try to give myself at least two to three hours every morning to work on my fiction, then spend the rest of the day working different writing muscles for clients. My desk is a big piece of plywood on four wobbly legs from IKEA. There’s a small window through which I can see an imposing black walnut tree that blocks out a lot of the afternoon heat. There are also shelves of books and films I’ve read and loved over the years; I like to think they give off good vibes as I sit here and write. 

What are you working on now? 

I’m currently making my way through a third draft of a new novel. Once I’ve finished that, I’ll likely turn my attention to some more short stories currently percolating in the back of my mind.

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block? 

There was a period in my life, roughly from 2000 to 2017, where I did not write any fiction whatsoever. It’s not that the passion or ideas weren’t there—it’s that I was overwhelmed by the terror all writers struggle with. What if what I’m writing isn’t good enough? What if I have nothing to say? What if people hate what I write? The fear was just too much for me. I don’t think such fear can ever be mastered; only managed. And managing that fear was my path around it. Now, I feel as if I’m making up for lost time. 

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

I had a teacher in high school who once wrote on a short story of mine this commandment: “Never stop writing.” I’m ashamed to say, I did stop for quite some time, with the result being that when I came back to fiction as an adult, I felt I somewhat had to start from scratch. Which is to say that showing up every day and doing the work—even if you don’t want to, even if what’s coming out is reprehensible, even if you’re terrified of it—is the best possible thing to do. In many respects, I learned from those three words that writing is as much about perseverance as it is about creativity.

What’s your advice to new writers?

Likeability in one’s characters is highly overrated. Fiction is for thinking about what it means to be a human, not for making friends. Write interesting characters, not likeable ones. Flawed characters covered in mud are so much more memorable (to this reader, at least) than characters spit-shined and set up in public squares as role models. 

Zak Salih is the author of the novel Let’s Get Back to the Party (2021). His writing has appeared in Foglifter, Crazyhorse, Epiphany, The Florida Review, the Millions, the Los Angeles Review of Books, and other publications. He lives in Washington, DC.

Christopher Schaberg

How did you become a writer?

I suppose I became a writer by just trying a lot of different forms—essays, short stories, poems, book reviews, collaborative experiments, a Master’s thesis, academic articles, and eventually a dissertation—as I went through graduate school. And then when I got my tenure track job as a professor at Loyola University New Orleans, I realized that writing (and having real deadlines!) was a way to fuel my teaching and also a way to have something outside of the job proper, something else to be able to focus on. In other words, writing was always part of this academic pursuit, for me, but I have always used it to try new forms and reach different audiences. (And I’ve only scratched the surface, really.)

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

My writing influences are kind of whomever I’m reading or talking to or working with at the moment. I’ve had wonderful mentors along the way, and I’m always reading new stuff that gets me inspired. For instance, I credit a lot of my writing early on to my professor at Montana State Susan Kollin, who just gave me a book one day and told me to review it, and helped me get it placed in a small journal called Western American Literature. I liked the feel of writing something then seeing it published. Working with Tim Morton at UC Davis gave me a really clear sense of how to stagger and move through discrete (if related) projects swiftly and efficiently. I just finished reading Elisabeth Tova Bailey’s The Sound of a Snail Eating and loved it; it gave me lots of ideas for a new book I’m starting to write about fly-fishing. 

When and where do you write?

I snatch and grab odd minutes and occasional hours in which to write! Whenever I can, whenever I am motivated and can carve out the space and time. I have no dedicated place where I write—right now I’m writing this at the kitchen table surrounded by my kids’ detritus and crumbs from the day. I’ve learned to just write wherever and whenever (and however) I can. Often I wake up in the night and start to construct sentences in my head…and sometimes I can remember them in the morning, and get them down into a document on the computer. Other times it’s just a sudden idea that sparks and I need to get quickly into a note on my phone or scrawled onto piece of paper. I write on Google Docs sometimes, so I can move between different computers (my home, my office) and keep working on the same text. Same with Notes on my phone. I’ll write with whatever tool I have handy. 

What are you working on now?

Three books: A textbook on how to write short essays, that I’m writing with my co-editor Ian Bogost; a collection of keywords for the future of air travel, which I’m co-editing with Erica Durante; and a short book on fly-fishing that I’m writing for Duke’s new series Practices (short books on life-shaping activities). I’ll probably write some short essays in the midst of working on all these things, too. I tend to write a bunch of essays and then eventually realize that they have formed the broad contours of a book. Then I propose and flesh out the book. 

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block?

Not really. I mean, I’ve gone through spells where I’ve been depressed and frustrated that no good or solid ideas are taking shape. Maybe that’s writer’s block. But it doesn’t usually last long, because I tend to keep reading, keep talking to friends and colleagues and editors, and before long something gets jostled free. I’m always putting things out into the world regularly, pitching essays and book ideas, getting plenty of rejections but some acceptances along the way, too. It’s work, a hustle. Writing is usually hard, always a pain-inducing experience of extraction, from murky brain to white paper. Every once and a while, it comes on fast and feels thrilling. 

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

My creative writing professor and great friend at Montana State University, Greg Keeler, explained a really effective writing technique to me this way: he pantomimes fingers drumming on a keyboard and makes a ppppppffffftpfptpfptpfffftftpfpftftpfffpffttttffttfp-fpfppffpppfpttpppppft sound with his mouth. In other words, just put words down on the page. There’s plenty of time for editing and cutting and revising, later. But just getting them down on the page is the way to get started, no matter how sloppy. Again, not that this is always easy!!! But it takes off some of the pressure. When in doubt or when flustered, just pppppfffptpfptpfffftftpfpftftpfffpfftt.

What’s your advice to new writers?

Four pieces of advice: 1) Understand who your intended audience is. Or in other words, pay attention to what audiences exist, and what formats and styles those audiences expect. Then you can know how to write for these audiences, and when you can push the envelope and be creative. But it helps to think of audience, first. 2) Deadlines are your friend. Use deadlines to motivate you to just sit down and produce a draft. 3) Learn to accept edits; don’t throw a fit over a cut sentence or replaced word. Trust your editor. Your writing will be better for it, even if you don’t understand how in the moment. 4) And always thank your editor. 

Christopher Schaberg is Dorothy Harrell Brown Distinguished Professor of English at Loyola University New Orleans, the author of six books and co-editor of two essay collections. His most recent book is Grounded: Perpetual Flight . . . and Then the Pandemic. He is also the founding co-editor of Object Lessons, a book series about the hidden life of ordinary things, published by Bloomsbury.