Jen Michalski is author of the novel The Tide King (Black Lawrence Press, 2013), winner of the 2012 Big Moose Prize, the short story collections, From Here and Close Encounters, and the novella collection Could You Be With Her Now. She is the founding editor of the literary quarterly jmww, a co-host of The 510 Readings and the biannual Lit Show, and interviews writers at The Nervous Breakdown. She also is the editor of the anthology City Sages: Baltimore, which Baltimore Magazine called a "Best of Baltimore" in 2010. She lives in Baltimore, MD, and tweets at @MichalskiJen. Find her at jenmichalski.com.
An excerpt from her novel Could You Be With Her Now appears in Issue Forty-Three of The Collagist.
Here, Jen Michalski answers questions "in the form of excerpts" -- with further excerpts from Could You Be With Her Now. Enjoy!
1. What is writing like?
Sometimes when Alice closed her eyes, she saw the woman in Sandra’s pictures. She kept one picture in her bag, close to her. In it Sandra was sitting under an umbrella at the beach, a cottage behind her. Southampton 1967. Her legs were tucked under, firm and tan, her hair spilled over her shoulders, and her cheeks scrunched into a smile. Alice was in love with that woman. A book was open beside her, pushing onto the sand -- Norman Mailer? Alice did not know why she thought Sandra had not already read Alice Munro and Virginia Woolf.
Alice wanted Sandra to know that she saw her, she wasn’t invisible, that when she rounded the bookshelves and saw Sandra standing there in her suit at the information desk, waiting for her, that her stomach hurt and she was thrilled and scared that she knew such a woman. She wanted to love this woman, just as she loved the woman in the photo, but Sandra was so moody, so scarred with age, bitter with memory. Alice wanted to say all those things but she said nothing. After Sandra left the bookstore, she went into the bathroom and big, stupid tears formed in her eyes. It was not pity she felt. More that something had been lost, or taken, or was never hers to begin with, even though she realized with a ferocity that she had wanted it more than anything.
2. What isn’t writing like?
Her arms, legs searched through the layers of water for something to anchor onto as the current pulled her further out to sea. Now she was beyond the boys. And they stared at her dumbly as Heather cried at her, her mouth a perfect O. Sometimes she still woke up at night with Heather’s expression burning in her mind. As if she had been the one who died. She struggled to get back, the beach, the boys, Heather disappearing as she took in water, the waterline filling above her eyes.
3. When you do it, why?
Alice wrote about relationships and heartbreak and people who were unsatisfied and disaffected but whose dissatisfaction and disaffection seemed somehow larger, more momentous than other people’s. She wrote about parents dying, lovers dying, pets dying, dreams dying, seasons dying, night dying, day dying. And sometimes children were born and sometimes dreams were born and days were born and certainly nights. Sometimes love was born. Alice wrote about all the things that everyone wrote about and she didn’t know why hers would be any better or different but she knew it didn’t matter because she could never stop. When she got home she was going to write about the bulbous and waxy grape in Sandra’s fingers. Alice would write that Sandra put it in her mouth and felt it with her tongue but did not break the skin, taste the juice.
4. When you don’t, why?
It is time for school. Some of the kids on our block say I go to a retard school, but Mom says that they are jealous. Josh goes to the school for bigger kids. If he went to my school too he would have to learn twice. Today we are learning about adding tables and yesterday we are learning about adding tables but I don’t know about tomorrow. I know that three plus one is four and three plus two is five and three plus three is six but I don’t know after. Last night Mom was supposed to help me with my homework but we had pizza and she forgot and I forgot.
We learn about how to dial 911 on the telephone if we need help. But it has to be a really big kind of help because I asked my teacher Mrs. Rawlings if I can call 911 if I need help getting my shoe off and she said no. I asked Mrs. Rawlings can I call 911 if I didn’t do my homework and she said no. I asked her what if I hit a girl and she make-believes sleep? Mrs. Rawlings said I should call my parents or family member because someone would be home with me at all times. Mrs. Rawlings asked me if someone was home with me at all times and I said yes. I asked Mrs. Rawlings can I call 911 if Peanut gets out of the yard and she said that I had asked enough questions. Then I had one more question I said what if I get lost? And she said yes so maybe the next time I can’t find my way home I can call 911 and not have to sit in the lady’s house.
Mrs. Rawlings is a black lady and she is nice. I am not black because my parents are white. My Dad doesn’t call black people black. He calls them something else but I am not allowed to repeat it. Mom tells me never, ever to call Mrs. Rawlings that word or tell her I know of it. Mom tells me to pretend that word is pretend, but I can’t.
Sometimes when Mom tells me not to do something I feel like I’m going to blow up because I keep thinking about the thing. Like if Mom told me before school not to say the word asshole I feel like I will blow up and I will feel better if I say asshole at the top of my voice to shout it out of me but I can’t. And that’s how I got in trouble with the word Dad calls black people. We were in the mall and I said it to a black man and my mother slapped me and then I felt like I was going to blow up. But I didn’t say it again.
But sometimes I’m afraid I will say a word I don't want to. It will just come out of my mouth and I didn’t mean it. Josh told me that if I wanted to say a bad word I should just shout blue because no one can punish you for that.
Mrs. Rawlings gave us a card with 911 on it so we can call it if we’re lost. I put it in my wallet with my other card. I asked Mom why I can give strangers the card with my name on it but not tell them my name. She said not to show the card to anybody but a policeman. I showed my card to the lady yesterday. And if I call 911, I have to give them my name. But Mom says not to talk to strangers, not even Mr. Pete.
I get in trouble at school for not having my homework. I tell Mrs. Rawlings that it was pizza night but I don't tell her about California because Josh told me not to. Mrs. Rawlings says that pizza is not a reason for not having my homework done. She gives me extra homework and she also gives me a note to take home to my Mom and Dad. I have never been in trouble before.
Mrs. Rawlings tells me not to cry, that everybody gets in trouble sometimes.
Even superheroes and army men? I ask. She does not hear me.