Tell us about ‘Something to be Tiptoed Around’.
It’s a story about grief, and the way that loss can shatter your sense of self and make it plural. Grief can be preoccupying: it takes up a lot of mental space. Writing grief and trauma can be liberating in this way: it allows you to shift the burden, to see it differently, to find beauty and power in it.
What was the last book you had trouble finishing, and why?
Finishing Miranda July’s The First Bad Man sucked because I just wanted that book to go on forever.
If we asked a friend of yours what you were good at, what would they say?
I just asked a friend and she said, ‘making avocado on toast and buying sneakers on the internet’.
What do you think of writing that blurs the lines between fiction and nonfiction? Does the line matter?
Certainly with my own work, I think of it less as ‘blurring’ the line and more like ‘deconstructing’ it. When you’re writing memoir and allowing your imagined world to seep into the work’s truth, are you lying to your reader? I don’t think so. Your internal world is as true as your external one, at least for you.
Which nonfiction writer would you most like to have a drink with, and why?
I’ve been reading Sheila Heti’s How Should A Person Be and relating to it so hard. Would Sheila Heti have a drink with me? I’d probably just get really weird and start quoting her book at her.
Do you agree with any of Jonathan Franzen’s opinions?
I don’t know what all of his opinions are. I probably agree with some of them. I’m sure he thinks that public transport is annoying or avocados are cool. But I’m sure he also likes his own books. That’s an opinion of his I don’t agree with.
What are constants in your life, even as other things change?
My cat, my fringe, and Gordon Ramsay.