GennaRose Nethercott

How did you become a writer? The direct influence has to be my dad–a writer himself–who raised me surrounded by stories and poems and folklore. I have a classic Lisa Frank binder with snow leopards on the cover containing poetry I wrote as a five year old, scrawled in misspelled gel pen. The early works. And honestly, thematically it’s pretty similar to what I do now. Monsters and fairytales and the like. The thing is, though, for most of my youth I desperately didn’t want to be a writer by profession. I had gotten it into my head that it would be a path filled with too much disappointment and existential angst (I wasn’t…wrong…). By my late teens, however, I realized I only truly felt sane and myself while writing–so figured I didn’t have much of a choice. May as well go all in. So I did.

Name your writing influences (writers, books, teachers, etc.). Well like I said, my dad is first and foremost. But then there’s Kelly Link, Angela Carter, Karen Russell, Ray Bradbury–with whose works I’d like to consider my own to be in conversation. My novel Thistlefoot, specifically, was heavily influenced by Isaac Bashevis Singer and Sholem Aleichem, as well as Libba Bray and Leigh Bardugo. And all my work is deeply indebted to traditional folklore. Old stories, old monsters, which I’m always excited to tinker with in new ways. And then there’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which is…well…just very deeply rooted in my soul.

When and where do you write? I wish I had some kind of consistent routine, but I don’t. Basically, the “when” is “whenever I have a deadline to hit.” Mostly I write in bed. I’m a devout bedsman. Earlier this year I tried to lure myself into writing in an armchair in my library by putting up fancy wallpaper and hanging nice lights and plants– but the truth is, you can’t beat a soft bed. People used to give me shit about it, but then I saw a photograph of Sondheim writing while lying flat on his back on the couch, so I consider my argument untouchable now. That said, I’m on the road touring a lot, so my writing bed isn’t always my actual, at-home bed. Sometimes it’s a pile of sheepskins and camping mats stuffed into the trunk of my car. Sometimes it’s a hotel bed. One one occasion, it was a series of sofa cushions a collaborator lined up in a closet in preparation for my arrival, knowing I can only write while very, very cozy. Was I being treated like a fussy little kitten? Yes. Did I mind? No.

What are you working on now? I’m currently finishing up edits on my forthcoming short story collection, Fifty Beasts To Break Your Heart, due out in early 2024–a series of weird, speculative short stories. Short stories have always been my greatest love as a reader, so I’m thrilled to finally be making my own contribution to the genre. I’m also gearing up to start writing my next novel, binging classic gothics for inspiration. Oh, and a friend and I just wrote a book of cheeky fortunes you can interpret with the help of a pair of dice, which we plan to sell at the local farmer’s market while drunk on absinthe and dressed as medieval jesters. We’re calling ourselves Fortune’s Fools Mercantile and Propheteering. So you know…keeping busy.

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block? I’m not sure I believe in writer’s block. I think writer’s block is a term for those who don’t recognize that writing is labor. Sure, sometimes it flows onto the page in a burst of thrilling inspiration, sweet and easy–but that’s rare and precious. In my experience, ninety-nine percent of the time writing is sitting down, gritting my teeth, and putting in painful and tedious work. So I guess “writer’s block” for me is just when I lack the energy or gumption to do the work that needs to be done–which yes, happens all the time. But it has nothing to do with inspiration or lack thereof.

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received? This is more publishing advice than writing advice, but it has to be the idea that if readers, publishers, etc. want to reject your work, it’s their job to do that. Not yours. Don’t do their job for them. In other words, don’t withhold your work from the world just because you’re afraid it won’t be accepted. If you believe in a piece, toss it out with full gusto. That’s your role. If the world wants it, it’ll seize it. If not, it won’t. But ultimately, that isn’t up to you. Shoot your shot.

What’s your advice to new writers? Find a writing community (or build your own)! Nothing will motivate, inspire, and improve your craft more than a group of like minded friends. If you can find people to share your work with who’ll share with you in turn, ideally on a regular basis, you’ll find your skills begin to bounce off each other, strengthening everyone. Writing can be solitary work–but don’t forget that at its heart, it’s an art form all about communication and connection.

GennaRose Nethercott is a writer and folklorist. Her first book, The Lumberjack's Dove, was selected by Louise Glück as a winner of the National Poetry Series, and whether authoring novels, poems, ballads, or even fold-up paper cootie catchers, her projects are all rooted in myth—and what our stories reveal about who we are. She tours widely, performing strange tales (sometimes with puppets in tow), and researches/writes for the podcast Lore. She lives in Brattleboro, Vermont, beside an old cemetery. Thistlefoot is her debut novel.

Emma Kantor

How did you become a writer? I’ve always loved storytelling. I was a theater kid and would often break out into silly sketches and song-and-dance routines for family and friends. In another life, I would’ve been a character actor. But somewhere around age 12, the adolescent anxiety set in and I became much more introverted. Enter books. Still, I continued to perform in high school and college, and I dabbled in improv after graduation.

I didn’t fully consider myself a writer until a few years ago. Before then, I had always identified as an editor first. Then the pandemic hit and, with no opportunities for performing, I craved a creative outlet. I turned to short humor writing and personal essays. In retrospect, I learned so many vital lessons from theater and comedy that serve me as a writer—about crafting a persona and voice, and bringing humor as well as vulnerability to the page. And after improv, I’m not afraid to do live readings...

Name your writing influences (writers, books, teachers, etc.). I’m in awe of Jhumpa Lahiri—the way she crosses borders through her fiction, nonfiction, and translation, both in English and Italian. I’ve been studying Italian since 2008, but I can only aspire to her level of fluency. I’m sure moving to Rome would help!

A large part of my reading life is dedicated to children’s and YA books. Some of my favorite authors writing for young people today are Katherine Rundell, Rebecca Stead, Nina LaCour, and Nicola Yoon. I’m a late bloomer, and I’m forever drawn to stories about the precarity and joy of young women coming of age. 

In terms of mentors, I credit my former teachers at Sackett Street Writers’ Workshop, Alisson Wood and Michele Filgate, for showing me how to give and receive feedback with generosity and insight, and how to form a writing discipline. 

When and where do you write? I have two desks—one that belonged to my great aunt and one from Ikea—but if I’m being honest, I mostly write in bed. Early evenings after work and weekend afternoons are generally when I have the time and energy to face the page. Now that I’m working remotely, not having to commute every day to the office has also opened up my schedule for writing.

What are you working on now? I’m currently revisiting and revising an essay I started last summer on The Green Ray, the film by Éric Rohmer and the novel of the same name by Jules Verne. My piece is about the bittersweet solitude of summer as a single woman, and moments of serendipity in the search for connection.

On the comedy side, I’m mustering up the chutzpah to launch a Jewish literary humor website. Stay tuned. And to anyone who may be interested in contributing as a writer or editor, please reach out!

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block? Of course. The benefit of working at a magazine with regular deadlines is that I’m always writing or editing something. So, no matter how stuck I am on a personal project, I’m able to stay productive in other ways.

I also found a lot of encouragement in this craft essay by Kate Angus for Literary Hub. She compares the writing process to working in a field: “Sometimes I am harvesting and sometimes I must let the field lie fallow or seed it with other experiences so new growth can germinate.” I love the idea of rest as a vital part of the labor. I’m grateful, too, for her reminder that writing can take many shapes—it doesn’t need to involve putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. Writing can encompass those in-between times when we’re thinking and living our lives, gathering material, whether consciously or not. 

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received? From Dani Shapiro’s Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life: “There is no difference between practice and art. The practice is the art.”

What’s your advice to new writers? Read widely, but also be out in the world. Surround yourself with interesting, creative people. They’re more fun. And that creativity is bound to rub off.

Emma Kantor is a Brooklyn-based writer, comedian, and deputy children’s book editor at Publishers Weekly. In addition to PW, her work has been featured in The New York Times Magazine, Electric Literature, Hey Alma, Literary Hub, and Pigeon Pages, among other outlets. Learn more about her work at emmakantor.com and on Twitter @emkantor.

Sari Botton

How did you become a writer? I think I might have been born a writer. I've been taking notes on everything in my surroundings since I was a small kid. But I became a professional writer the summer of '86, between my junior and senior years of college, when I had a paid internship on the arts desk at Newsday/New York Newsday. I assumed they'd have me fetching coffee for reporters, but they threw me in the deep end, and I wrote about two short features a week. After some time in arts journalism and trade journalism, I focused on becoming an essayist and memoirist. I started publishing personal essays in the late 90s, and that was my jam.

Name your writing influences (writers, books, teachers, etc.). Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies was the first book that made me want to write a memoir in essays. Joan Didion's personal essays have always knocked me out, especially Goodbye to All That, first published in the Saturday Evening Post, and later in her essay collection, Slouching Towards Bethlehem, about arriving in New York City starry-eyed at 20, and leaving bleary-eyed at 28. That essay was the inspiration for my bestselling anthology, Goodbye to All That: Writers on Loving & Leaving NY.

When and where do you write? I write pretty much every day. I try to journal a little bit in the morning, shortly after I arise. I write frequently for my three newsletters, Oldster MagazineMemoir Monday, and Adventures in *Journalism*. These days I do most of my writing at home, in my dining room. I have a home office, where I wrote my memoir, And You May Find Yourself...Confessions of a Late-Blooming Gen-X Weirdo, but for some reason I haven't felt like working in there since I published that book last June. I'll probably head back in there when I'm ready to work on my next book.

What are you working on now? In addition to my newsletters, I'm working on some personal essays I hope to publish elsewhere soon. I'm also beginning to work on a proposal for an Oldster Magazine essay anthology.

Have you ever suffered from writer’s block? I've had a few terrible bouts of writers' block. It can be very demoralizing. You feel as if you'll never be able to write again. Most recently, I felt blocked because I was a witness in a court case and my journal and several of my personal emails were subpoenaed. It was a terrible invasion of my privacy, and it involved the one place where it's always felt safe to express myself, and empty my head before writing drafts of essays. Until the case's recent resolution, I felt afraid to journal or write anything too personal. I'm glad that's over. Unfortunately, the only cure for writers' block is...writing.

What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever received? When perfectionism halts you (which it always does), lower the stakes and give yourself permission to write lousily. It also helps to write lousily while racing a timer. I'm a big adherent of the Pomodoro Method.

What’s your advice to new writers? Don't be in a rush to publish. Realize that all good writing takes time to develop. Learn from my mistake of, in the past, publishing half-baked essays I'm now so glad you can't find anywhere. Take time between drafts; put your writing away for a week or so before you come back to it, when you have added perspective. Give yourself time to change your mind, or have your thoughts shift about what you're writing about. It's natural to feel impatient, or competitive with other writers who are further along. But in the end, you won't regret having taken your time. 

Sari Botton is the author of the memoir in essays, And You May Find Yourself...Confessions of a Late-Blooming Gen-X Weirdo. She is a contributing editor and columnist at Catapult, and the former Essays Editor for Longreads. She edited the bestselling anthologies Goodbye to All That: Writers on Loving and Leaving NewYork and Never Can Say Goodbye: Writers on Their Unshakable Love for New York. She teaches creative nonfiction at Catapult, Bay Path University and Kingston Writers' Studio. She publishes Oldster MagazineMemoir Monday, and Adventures in Journalism. She is the Writer in Residence in the creative writing department of SUNY New Paltz for Spring, 2023.