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Author Spotlight: Joseph William Vass
Joseph William Vass won 2nd prize in Poetry in the Northwind Writing Award 2024 for his poem “We Entered Stone’s Dominion.” It is an honor to feature his Q&A here on Raw Earth Ink as part of our promotion of truly exceptional authors.
Q & A
Candice: Joseph, first thank you so much for your beautiful submissions. What stood out to the judges was the absolute raw beauty of your writing. You are a classic poet, not a modern poet, something we really appreciated, because instead of a short ‘trendy’ poem, we received an entire story. Has this always been your preferred style of writing?
Joseph: I feel honored to be considered a “classic” poet, as the language in particular of old time is very rich and appealing to me, so replete with subtleties and expansive vocabulary, stretching the fullness and scope of the literary world. It seems more layered in meaning, its words planted in fertile places that my mind likes to occupy.
CD: Who are your influences poetically? If they are not poetic, such as the natural world, or a painter, muse, or other, please explain.
Joseph: I think I have always been a natural story teller, without intending it to be so reflected in my writing style. Even in my work as a psychotherapist, I convey psychological principles and relational lessons to my clients in the form of stories. It seems a less threatening and more engaging way of bypassing our defenses and appealing to our subconscious process, where the true seed of all learning lies.
CD: Is it abundantly clear you are able to mesh the appreciation and love of the natural world in all your poems, alongside a powerful ‘story’ – is there a story behind this?
Joseph: The early writing of James Dickey still astonishes me every time I read it, but always attaches to the saddest words in the world: What might have been. I met him shortly after “Deliverance”, at the height of his popularity. And discovered a fallen hero, his enormous talent broken like so many others, by the bottle. But his early work, like “Falling” as an example, reminds me of Beethoven: Monumental!
CD: Being familiar with older poets like Tennyson and others who always had a really powerful story in their poems, I found much of that same detailed, engaging storyline in your submissions, especially the winner, and I wondered, do you intentionally do this or is it just how your writing comes out? In other words, what is your writing process?
Joseph: Nature has always been a refuge for me. I came to this country when I was 4 years old, and spent considerable time alone, as my parents worked very long, hard hours to support us. I occupied myself with regular forays into the nearby forest and fields. And my parents both grew up on farms in eastern Europe, so we would often go foraging for mushrooms and berries and other wild food stocks to enrich the pierogies and babkas, and other fabulous meals my mother would prepare. Even now at my advanced age, I still love to climb mountains and explore wild places at every available opportunity. It is my natural element, and I feel connected to the eternal, when I am in the wilderness. How could this not be reflected in my writing?
CD: Aside from other writers, what else gets your blood pumping when you feel engaged to write on subjects? What are those subjects and why do they appeal to you?
Joseph: Great things originate from humble beginnings. Sometimes a word triggers a feeling. The feeling gives birth to a phrase. The phrase takes the scenic route home. And there you have it: a poem. But I am only a conduit. I never plan the route. I’m only along for the ride.
Like good home cooked meals, the common base ingredient for every recipe, as with every successful poem, is love. You have to love whatever it is you’re writing about. And if you do, it will show. And if you also have some talent on top of that, you will do special things.
CD: Tell us a little about what brought you to becoming a writer, what your story is there, and how it evolved from the time you began writing, until now?
Joseph: From the time I first started writing poetry at 15 years of age, I have felt strongly that the greatest human endeavor is to create. I suspect that because I spent such considerable time alone, there was ample opportunity to let my imagination and curiosity roam. And aren’t these exactly the essential ingredients for creative endeavors to flourish? But another factor that was more unique to my situation, was the fact that I was an immigrant. I had to learn a different language, and customs and thought-culture. This had to have expanded and freed up my brain’s way of processing and thinking about concepts and words and ideas. People who encounter me through any significant conversation, all remark that I use language differently, though they can never articulate how. And isn’t that another factor in good writing: learning to use words differently, so you see language and the world in a new way?
CD: Did you think your writing would be received with as much love as it has been, when you submitted? Or did you fear that modern competitions would not appreciate writing that is more classical in style? If you disagree that it’s classical, that’s okay too!
Joseph: Candice, I was stunned when I received the notice of having won second place in your contest. I am well thought of by many people in the several writing groups that I belong to. But even the most well-established writers in my groups say the same thing to me: “Your writing, Joe, is brilliant and beautiful. But it is so out of date! You’ll never get published.” They unfortunately, have been right.
CD: Can you talk to us about writing this poem?
Joseph: This particular poem, “We Entered Stone’s Dominion”, has had several incarnations. It first got started many years ago, when I was hiking through some back country wilderness in Arizona with a friend. We found a cave that had once been inhabited by native Americans hundreds of years earlier. I was struck by the figures of animals leaping and cavorting on the walls of the cave, how the shadows cast from my flashlight seemed to shiver around me, as though trying to animate through time. I was profoundly moved, and thought of the maker who had left a piece of his soul behind through his marvelous creations. And I put my hand to the wall, and touched them. And imagined myself becoming him, the creator. And what his life was like, what he was like, in that moment of his creation. And I realized then, that the most immortal and essential part of ourselves that is left behind after we die, is what we have created, and the love we have given to it. And that can be a work of art, or a poem; or a child or a relationship; and yes, even a pierogi.
CD: Did you find your writing changed over time and if so, how do you see that happening and what were the influencing factors to cause that shift/change?
Joseph: My writing has absolutely changed with time. Not the underlying fascination with magical realism, or story telling; these things have remained a constant. But certainly my writing has matured as I have matured. We’ve polished off the rough edges. We’ve learned a thing or two about life, and that shows in the telling. We love more, and offer it freely, without pretense or gain, other than through the giving. My writing does this more now, as do I.
CD: The imagery is gorgeous in your poetry, where do you get the influence for your images and metaphors?
Joseph: I have always been very visually oriented, and was a professional nature photographer for a time long ago. I suspect my parents and my unique early history first conspired to open my eyes to beauty. And then years ago at a very painful juncture in my life, I decided that I wanted to focus on 2 things in my future: To strive to add goodness to life wherever I go, whatever I do; and also to surround myself with beauty, to walk in beauty every day. In Dante’s Inferno, there is a line that resonates with me: “Damned in the midst of Paradise, I lack the low enjoying power.” I try never to be guilty of that. It drives the images and metaphors that crop up of their own accord in my writing.
CD: What power does poetry play in the translation of life?
Joseph: Poetry can be terrifically powerful, in such a wonderful concept as “the translation of life”. Don’t we all carry at least little snippets of poetry from our early memories, that still linger and delight? “The rain and an umbrella go chatting together.” “Whose woods these are, I think I know…”
They capture a moment, a feeling, that will always attach to that experience wherever and whenever we encounter it joyfully again. It opens our eyes, so we see the Paradise that is ever present around us. That is poetry.
CD: When you write, do you find a catharsis in writing out an experience, even such a painful one? And if so, do you have to speak to that experience directly or can you find catharsis even without directly describing the issue-at-hand by the writing process itself?
Joseph: Poetry has never been cathartic for me personally. For some reason, it is more an uplifting, a celebration of sorts. I find my prose stories, however, to be quite cathartic. And I’m afraid I have no explanation for this distinction, only that it is true to my experience.
CD: In your opinion, how do you think people can benefit from reading poems in general, and in particular in today’s society that convinces itself it’s too busy to read?
Joseph: I’m afraid my current perception of the world at large is jaded and quite sad. I fear we have as a whole cast our lot with schlock sensationalism, and lost our taste for substance. How can people benefit from reading poetry? It is one of many means to save our souls. The passion of our times is a weak tea. But who wants to reach out our hand for that cream and sugar, when it involves effort? Maybe indulging the current craving for a quick fix, would kick start something more enduring. Short but meaningful poems like those of Emily Dickinson, or six-word poems might be a good place to start.
CD: In your lifetime thus far, have you observed a shift in how people read in terms of whether they do or not, and how this influences their ability to be, say, empathetic or aware of things that poetry was often a good medium for?
Joseph: As a psychotherapist of 50 years, I have seen very troubling trends in our children’s mental health. The incidence of depression and suicide has tripled in the last decade, as a direct result of the advent of cellphones, and the growing preference for texting and learning through online visual sites rather than reading or engaging in human contact. This trend is socially isolating, and prevents the development of intimacy, empathy, and sympathy for others. We have also known for decades that children’s I.Q. is directly correlated to how much time they spend watching T.V., playing video games, or engaging with other electronic monitors.
The more time they watch, the lower their I.Q. scores. Consequently, the more time a child spends in reading, the higher their I.Q. scores will be. We are raising a generation of depressed and isolated human beings who are blind to the true beauty of the world and each other. Poetry obviously is not a panacea, but it is one of the many means to a much better end.
CD: Your style is incredibly distinct; it really stands out and demands to be read. You also write quite long form poetry (which I personally love) – have you found it challenging given the modern appetite for shorter, more pithy writings, to stay relevant, or is that unimportant to you?
Joseph: I know that to stay relevant as a writer, we have to be flexible in adjusting our style to current culture and taste trends. I have never been trendy, and I do not aspire to be a popular writer. I fully understand my limitations as a writer in terms of my success quotient. I don’t have it, and never will. Truly, that is all right with me.
CD: As a reader of poetry, what do you like and dislike about the poetry you read, and why?
Joseph: I like poetry that moves me in some way, or captures language or imagery in a way that I never thought of before, or creates a place that I want to inhabit for a long time, and want to return to repeatedly. I dislike poetry that sacrifices substance for structure, and thus feels like the writer is struggling to squeeze a poem into a box, and taking its life away. A poem needs room to breathe its own air.
CD: Do you find ‘modern’ online poetry varies from the more traditional published (print) poetry in terms of length and subject and how do you feel about this?
Joseph: I’m sorry to say that I do not read online poetry, and that is unfair of me. I know I am throwing the baby out with the bath, but I’ve already made clear how corrosive I see the online world as being. I love the smell of an old book, the texture and feel of paper. Have we forgotten it was once alive?
CD: As a writer, was there a time when you were unable to write and how did that affect you?
Joseph: I have always been able to write. There have been times when I have chosen not to. But writing is a bit like stars in the daylight sky. Unseen perhaps. But still there.
CD: I detected a lot of passion in your writing, you really draw the reader in, and pull them to the very edge of their seat. Are you conscious that your writing has this effect on people? What does it make you think?
Joseph: My writing has me on the edge of my own seat. I am always fascinated by what comes out of my head, and wonder what I could have possibly done, to have such a generous gift offered to me. My unconscious mind, that holds in some measure everything that I have ever learned and experienced and thought of. All conniving in a mercurial mix of allusion and suggestion and metaphor to create who knows what miraculous concoction of words and feelings, using just 26 letters to do it all. Poetry: a minimum of words, a maximum of experience.
CD: Specifically considering your gorgeous poem: “We Entered Stone’s Dominion”. Was this a poem that flowed out of you or more one you planned out consciously? In other words, what was the inspiration there?
Joseph: In the poem, “We Entered Stone’s Dominion”, I was shocked at the end point of my journey. I willfully planned nothing. It kept pulling me along, and pulling me along. But every part felt like a natural progression from whatever came before it. And each step taken, like a marvelous bud unfolding for the first time.
CD: As an award-winning poet and writer, do you feel connected to that identity or are you someone who writes without really believing you are a writer per say? In other words, do you have Imposter Syndrome as a writer, or are you quite comfortable with the idea of being a writer? And if so, what does “being a writer” mean to you?
Joseph: I have suffered from the Imposter Syndrome in more ways than just as a writer, and don’t know that I can separate the two. My unique history and family have indulged many eccentricities that have always been evident in my person. The good part of that is that I am incapable of being bored. My lively, quirky brain will make sure of that. For some reason, it was somewhere around page 300 of my recently completed memoir, that I suddenly sat up straight in my chair and had the oddest thought. I said out loud to myself, “Oh, Joseph! You are writing a book. You must be a writer!” That wonderful aha moment then attached itself to my poetry as well, figuring: “Ah, why the hell not.”
Being a writer feels like being burned by a fine silk. It is breathing a rarified air. It is what I want to be and who I want to be. It is all.
CD: Please share any other aspects to your poem“We Entered Stone’s Dominion”, and what brought you to submit it to Northwind, that you believe readers would benefit from knowing about?
Joseph: I would hope readers consider my poem “We Entered Stone’s Dominion”, as an invitation to explore. That wonderful something waiting for us at every turn of the trail. The timeless reach of the infinite. To create something out of nothing, out of love.
CD: I’d love to know personally how you came to title this poem, as it’s an incredibly original title and one that demands reading.
Joseph: Although I am not at all a religious man, I am profoundly spiritual. And have come to my own realization that the world is holy. Every living thing is holy. Even the dead, even the rocks are holy. The title of this poem reflects that reverence, and how art and creativity enjoin us to the spirit of nature, the earth, the holiness of stone.
Author bio: Joseph William Vass was born in Manchester, England in 1951. He emigrated to the United States at an early age, together with his parents and one battered suitcase full of hope and mothballs. He has since then worked as a farmhand, nature photographer, and psychotherapist; though writing has always been his core profession, obsession, and joy.
Mr. Vass has been writing poetry for fifty years, and been published in a number of literary journals. His recently published work, My Seven Deadly Sins, represents a broad retrospective of his poetic works. Another book of his poetry is soon to be released. He also has a memoir, In The Found Embrace of Your Hope, that is in the final stages of completion.
To read The 2024 Northwind Treasury, including Joseph’s winning piece, you can purchase it in paperback on Lulu, Barnes & Noble, or Amazon, or as an eBook on Kindle. To see the list of contents and winners, visit our winner’s page.
Author Spotlight: Mei Davis
Mei Davis won 1st prize in Fiction in the Northwind Writing Award 2024 for her short story “Like A Pearl.” It is an honor to feature her Q&A here on Raw Earth Ink as part of our promotion of truly exceptional authors.
Q & A
Candice: Mei, thank you so much for your submission. What stood out to the judges was the raw beauty of your writing, from the title, to the gradual revealing of your incredible story. “Like a Pearl” has stayed with me long after reading. Can you describe to us your process of writing this story and what it means to you?
Mei: Usually I don’t recall the particulars of writing a story, but in this case I remember very vividly the process. The idea had been stewing for some time in my mind, and I finally got a crack at it during a weekend getaway with my husband at a local beach town. While my writing is usually a trickle, this story was more like a flood, and poured out in a couple of days.
CD: Who are your influences in terms of writing if any? If they are not fiction writers, what influences you in your writing process?
Mei: Anything I read bears some influence on my writing. I read very broadly and whatever the genre, whether humor or science fiction or mystery or non-fiction, I am constantly on the prowl for effective means of conveying emotion, tone, subtlety, action, etc. My favorite writers include Jane Austen, Laura Hillenbrand, Suzanne Collins, and Agatha Christie.
CD: I have read stories of immigration and people coming to countries through all means of transport, and the horrors they encounter. Was there a personal aspect to your story? As a fellow immigrant I am interested if this was purely fictional or there was some lived-or-second-hand experience that influenced you in some way?
Mei: I grew up immersed in the Asian-American community of Southern California, and while I don’t have direct familial connection with the Vietnamese “boat people,” I have several friends and in-laws whose families were forced to flee post-war and experienced many of the traumas described in the story. Their accounts, and my own research on the topic, were highly influential.
CD: As an immigrant, I was especially moved by the rendition of this experience and particularly felt the story was carried even further by your selection of the narrator and that narrator being a child. Did you intend from the outset to do this? What was your purpose in choosing a child narrator?
Mei: Through parenthood, I was able to observe firsthand the viewpoint of (three!) children, and how often outside influences are buffered by their profoundly singular focus. This was the perspective of Thi. She didn’t necessarily understand why things were happening, only what was happening, and how those happenings affected her personal bubble. The broader socio-political conflicts, symbolized by the sound-bytes of the adults around her, were simply babble that had no bearing on what was most troubling in her insulated world: the fact her mother wouldn’t hold her like she used to.
And yet, is the inward struggle with feeling displaced as a second child less compelling than being displaced from a home over political conflict? In some ways, it is even more compelling, for while the latter has more far-reaching consequences, the former speaks to a more universal emotion: loss. And so, with the political baggage swept away, we are immersed in the raw emotion of the child, which in many ways makes the more nuanced emotions of the adults, with whom we might share no similarities or experiences, all the more relatable.
CD: People can read such experiences from the safety of their armchair and say they are moved, but do you think fiction can change people’s minds or opinions about big subjects like immigration and cruelty?
Mei: Narratives often have an advantage over non-fiction because they are designed to be entertaining. For many, it is easier to pick up a novel than a newspaper, and in that way I do believe fiction can be a starting point for understanding. But I think true and effective change doesn’t live in fiction, but in doing the hard work of going out and talking to different people, listening to different viewpoints, hearing the real stories from those who have lived them.
CD: I felt there were many influences here, not least the idea of sewing all you owned into a toy, and yet, it was not obvious from the start that this would be the ‘sacrifice’ to save the little girl’s mother from more abuse. In your opinion, what is the significance of this?
Mei: Again, this touches on the dichotomy between the perspective of Thi vs the adults around her, namely her father. A child giving up her doll is no less compelling than a man giving up his fortune. In their respective perspectives, the stakes are the same. Thi had no concept of the worth of the “marbles” inside of Chau doll. But to her, Chau doll had immeasurable worth. To her, Chau doll was priceless, its value eclipsed only by one thing, the most valuable thing, in her eyes. Once again, the perspective of the child brings a certain clarity to the emotions, to the concept of sacrifice, that might otherwise be clouded with the anxieties and pragmatism of adulthood. Thi gave up her most precious things without a second thought. Would we have done the same?
CD: Do you write in one style or play with varied styles and genres?
Mei: Like my reading habits, my writing is very broad and spans almost every genre. I ascribe to the idea that it is harder to make someone laugh than it is to make them cry, and make occasional forays into humor. I’ve also written a fair number of speculative stories. As a carryover from my fanfic days, I also enjoy writing adaptations of folk tales and myths.
CD: Tell us a little about what brought you to becoming a writer, what your story is there, and how it evolved from the time you began writing, until now?
Mei: I wrote on and off from a young age, but really only began writing extensively as a young adult. Like a lot of writers, I cut my teeth in the fanfic world, playing around with various points of view, tenses, genres, styles. It was a great training ground to practice the fundamentals of writing without getting bogged down with the painstaking process of plotting and originating ideas. Once I had grown sufficient skills as a writer in general, I moved on to original fiction.
CD: What were the crux messages you were conveying in your story? Do you feel there was anything you’d have liked to say more about, but didn’t because of length restrictions or other reasons?
Mei: In the last line of the story the boat is heading towards the coastline, and it is there, in the hope of a new horizon, where an uncomfortable truth lives.
As descendants of immigrants, my brothers, my in-laws, my friends, myself and many others like us, would not exist without the upheavals and traumas that launched our antecedents from home countries. Our lives have risen out of the ashes of their broken pasts, a bittersweet reminder for me to be compassionate, to be humble, and above all, to be thankful.
Author bio: A former Angeleno, Mei Davis currently resides in the cold wilds of Metro Detroit with her husband, children, and an oft-neglected laptop. She has previously been published by prairiefire, Translunar Traveler’s Lounge, Sans Press, Parsec Ink, and has an upcoming publication with Kinsman Quarterly.
To read The 2024 Northwind Treasury, including Mei’s winning piece, you can purchase it in paperback on Lulu, Barnes & Noble, or Amazon, or as an eBook on Kindle. To see the list of contents and winners, visit our winner’s page.
Author Spotlight: Summer Chambley
Summer Chambley won 1st prize in Prose Poetry in the Northwind Writing Award 2024 for her poem “Gray Baby Hairs.” It is an honor to feature her Q&A here on Raw Earth Ink as part of our promotion of truly exceptional authors.
Q & A
Candice: Summer, thank you so much for your beautiful submission. What stood out to the judges was the enduring strength of your storytelling and the vividity of the scenes in “Gray Baby Hairs.” What inspired this poem?
Summer: Loss is not always singular. Loss is not always linear. Mostly this was my way of exploring this and other themes through that lens.
Thank you so much for such high praise.
CD: We all thought it was remarkable you could write so much in less than two pages. The poetry is throughout the prose, so it’s a wrap between the two genres. When did you begin to write prose-poetry? How does it distinguish itself for you as a genre? Why are you comfortable with it?
Summer: I don’t know that I’m comfortable with prose-poetry, but thank you for the compliment!
I wrote the piece and then decided which category it best fit in. For me, the genres are secondary to whatever it is that I am trying to achieve. I do think that while I haven’t written creatively (up until recently) in quite some time, I have spent most of my career writing and being rewarded for efficiency and for economy of language. I can see how that has impacted my writing now.
I think of every word as a chance to advance the narrative or world build. But perhaps, what’s just as important, is the choice of omission. What do I leave out? What do I allow the reader to fill in for themselves? How can I give the reader enough to draw emotional inferences? It’s something that I still am working through in my work.
CD: “Gray Baby Hairs” is incredibly visceral and the emotion is raw. It is incredibly hard to handle this subject so well, in this genre. There are multiple themes throughout. What is the key theme for you in this?
Summer: I think both grief and miscarriage are not topics that are really allowed in our public lives. Many people can likely relate to the experience of suffering a loss and receiving pseudo-support for a week or so, only to be expected to dust themselves off and move on.
Miscarriage, in particular, is very common—10 to 20% of known pregnancies end this way—yet it remains taboo. In this piece, you see two losses: one sort of more socially acceptable and one not. The narrator even struggles with discussing the pregnancy itself with her father. Life, death, birth, and miscarriage are universal aspects of humanity, yet they remain a no-go zone.
The work might feel universal because it reflects undeniable suffering and the ways we try to contain it. Grief can feel like something you can cut with a knife, yet it’s also incredibly restrained. That quiet, pervasive nature of grief is perhaps the most apparent theme.
A second theme, which I think is equally important, is how grief and profound love can coexist in the same person. It’s like the unluckiest amongst us can also be the luckiest—experiencing devastating losses yet being profoundly loved through them
CD: Is it hard to write a short prose-poetry story with so many moving parts, how do you decide what to keep, and what to trim?
Summer: I typically trim things that are somehow distracting, that don’t move the narrative forward or deepen the emotional experience for the reader. I realize that might sound odd considering the moving parts, however the parts are all moving in the same direction, if that makes sense. If one of the parts isn’t moving in the right direction, it typically doesn’t belong in that piece.
CD: The judges were attracted to the way you were able to achieve feeling so quickly and intensely in this medium. Love is a universal theme, but you manage to talk about greater subjects like life/death. What was ultimately your final word on this?
Summer: Last night, as I walked past a pool, the smell of chlorine brought back a memory. When I was three, I forgot my goggles, and the chlorine burned my eyes. I tried swimming with my eyes tightly shut, only to slam my head into the side of the pool. I had a scar on my forehead for years—a scar I’d completely forgotten until that moment.
A big scar in the middle of my forehead for a big chunk of my childhood, that had just vanished from my memory. It’s strange how something so visible can disappear from your mind, yet it still shaped who you were for a time.
I wish I had a final word on life and death. As I mentioned, I intentionally try to leave enough space in my writing for the reader to have their own emotional experience or to relate in a way that allows them to draw their own conclusions.
But probably, that’s because I feel like I really don’t have any answers about anything. It’s like the older I get, the more questions I have and the less I understand. The only thing that feels right to me is the idea that all of our experiences are absolutely amazing, ridiculous, tragic and maybe lucky? Regular life is just so beyond belief if you think about all the billions of things that had to happen for us to be in any particular moment. We are all walking miracles.
So maybe that’s why I like writing about regular degular life and regular degular people. I humbly hope people see their own lives differently through my work. I hope they can see all of the wonder that is intrinsically there even in the crap parts.
CD: Are there some sub-texts here? Share any you want to.
Summer: Yes, there are lots of sub-texts. There are likely some that I am not even fully aware of. One that comes to mind is in the title. “Gray Baby Hairs.” These are words that most of us will never have seen together, and many of us might find the idea to be unsettling.
Or the seven gray hairs of the father and how it becomes almost a meditation. A person with seven gray hairs shouldn’t be dead just as babies shouldn’t have gray hairs. But here we are, with no solution for such things that shouldn’t happen but do (both “bad” and “good”).
The piece ends on an almost positive note. That this bad thing allowed this very good thing that wouldn’t have otherwise been possible.
CD: Who are your influences in poetry or fiction? If they are not poetry/fictional, such as the natural world, or a painter, muse, or other, please explain.
Summer: I love and admire Robert Hayden, Arundhati Roy, Bernice McFadden, Louise Erdrich, Alice Walker, Toni Morrison, and James Baldwin. Their work inspires me deeply, particularly in their ability to contribute meaningfully to literature and humanity. But I don’t know how much they directly influence my work—I think my writing is shaped more by the ordinary people I’ve known, people with extraordinary characteristics.
It’s a cliché, but I believe authenticity lends itself to greater art. I only really know how to be myself, and the more I’m able to tap into that, the more fulfilled I feel.
This also influences how I write. I prioritize accessibility over literary conventions for their own sake. I layer my work so that anyone can find meaning on a first pass and then discover more with each subsequent reading. I write for the people who inspire me—people who might not see themselves in other writing but who, perhaps, will recognize themselves in mine.
CD: Aside from other poets/writers, what else gets your blood pumping when you feel engaged to write on subjects? What are those subjects and why do they appeal to you?
Summer: I write for different reasons. Sometimes it is an intellectual topic that I’m really interested in and I find myself just wanting to work out some things on paper. Sometimes I am just trying to quiet my brain and it’s almost a meditation. Sometimes I am trying to communicate or leave a record of the world as I know it.
But sometimes, I find myself missing certain time periods. Missing the lime tree that was in our backyard as a kid. Missing my sadness when they came and cut it down because of “citrus canker” and my mother planted an ice cream mango instead.
Or missing people. Missing my great-aunt, who was a diplomat, and just always was not only extremely self-assured and brilliant but she stood up for herself. She sued the government multiple times. She didn’t live long enough to see me really do anything, but she always seemed so sure that I was special already.
I am sure that writing about these things, these places, these people fires the same neural connections in my brain or something because it feels very similar to visiting.
CD: Tell us a little about what brought you to becoming a poet/writer, what your story is there, and how it evolved from the time you began writing, until now?
Summer: When I was in middle school, an English teacher accused me of plagiarism. We had a weekly journal assignment, and I’d write these weird little entries that I fancied to be the beginnings of novels. I wrote them on the bus on the way to school—not at home, like the proper student he surely expected me to be.
One day, I was held back after class. I assumed I was in trouble, and technically, I was. The teacher started questioning me about where I was copying my entries from. I was amazed—and a little thrilled. He thought I was stealing from a published adult author! At the time, it felt like objective validation of my writing.
I went home and told my father, excited and maybe gloating a bit. My father, however, was not impressed. The next day, he left work to defend my honor at school. At the time, I was disappointed he couldn’t see how flattering the whole thing was, but now I understand us both better.
Looking back, I realize writing has always been central to who I am. I grew up reading constantly, journaling daily, and excelling at academic writing. As a teenager, I discovered I could make money from my writing and started entering competitions to supplement my allowance.
Bizarrely, writing has shown me that I am still the same person. Beneath all the layers of adulthood is the same girl who wrote those weird stories on the school bus. She’s still here, scribbling away, excited by the power of words.
CD: You took some risks with this piece, as it’s untraditional. Did you think your writing would be received with as much love as it has been, when you submitted? Or did you fear the readers wouldn’t get what you were trying to say?
Summer: In general, I have lived a very controlled, rational, and private life. I think when I decided that I was going to write seriously a few months ago, I was very worried about what it would mean to have my work out in the world indefinitely. You can’t unring the bell so to speak.
I knew I would be putting out things that were less than perfect and perhaps laying out just how not perfect I am for the world to see.
I wasn’t afraid of taking risks or being misunderstood because it didn’t occur to me that it would do well!
CD: Can you talk to us about writing this poem and how you began writing in this style and what your objective was in writing this and submitting it to an award?
Summer: I submitted pieces I was unsure of because, as a writer, you’re often in a bubble. I was hoping for feedback and comments, and I’ve certainly gotten more than that. Northwind felt like a safe place to share my work—your mission and philosophy really resonated with me, and I hoped to get a sense of how I was doing. So you can imagine my shock when I found out the news.
You’ve all helped me tremendously, and I’m so grateful for this opportunity.
That being said, you’ll have to stay tuned to hear more about my writing style—and to see more like it!
CD: In your lifetime thus far, have you observed a shift in how people read in terms of whether they do or not, and how this influences their ability to be, say, empathetic or aware of things that poetry was often a good medium for?
Summer: Oh definitely, it’s far less usual to be a voracious reader in my generation than it is in say my grandparents’. I think people still love a good story but the way we consume them has just changed dramatically. I think writing for a current audience has to take that into account, people are just used to watching TV and film more so their general tastes would have evolved differently than a reader who started reading before the widespread adoption of the television.
I try to focus on ambiance, visuals and keeping things moving fast enough that I don’t lose a reader that is used to watching their entertainment and short form.
CD: As a reader of fiction, what do you like and dislike about the fiction you read, and why?
Summer: I think we’re at a point where you have to fit a certain profile to be a sure bet in many industries. This culture of staying in your “lane” often discourages people with unique perspectives from even trying, while those who do try often struggle to break through.
Because of this, I don’t often see certain aspects of myself reflected in literature. That’s why Northwind resonated so much with me—it felt like a space where individuality and fresh perspectives are welcomed. Submitting for the first time post-school was nerve-wracking, but their mission made it feel like the right fit.
I like disruptors!
CD: As a writer, was there a time when you were unable to write and how did that affect you?
Summer: Oh yeah. I couldn’t write creatively for a long time. I think it was just a function of just being overwhelmed professionally and having to be good at sort of the opposite kind of writing that was something I had to learn to do.
Then my grandfather died and I wrote a poem about him. And me. Here are a couple of lines from it:
His hands were already beginning to curl in His pace had already began to slow when he stepped in front of me Who will look at me and see skinned knees and lemon cake
Those few lines were selected almost randomly and yet I see a similar theme. Kind of this existence of both happiness and sadness in the same place.
I think now, having had time and experience, some of my brain is freed up again since I don’t have to work so hard at the professional stuff. But really, I am probably bursting at the seams with all of the stuff I have never written about but is still there brewing under the surface.
Author bio: Summer Chambley is an American writer based in London, UK. Her current work explores the intersections of science, history, and human resilience.
To read The 2024 Northwind Treasury, including Summer’s winning piece, you can purchase it in paperback on Lulu, Barnes & Noble, or Amazon, or as an eBook on Kindle. To see the list of contents and winners, visit our winner’s page.
New Book – “North of Autumn” a novel by Patrick Gillespie
Raw Earth Ink is proud to present Patrick Gillespie’s newest book, North of Autumn, a novel taking place in the same setting as his first book (Tiny House, Big Mountain).
From the back: Following the loss of both her adopted mother and then grandmother, teen Zoē embarks on a new life with her uncle Sean, moving from Maine to Michigan, where Sean plans to begin a business partnership with an old friend. Along the way, they become sidetracked when a mountain storm causes a breakdown of their car just outside rural Brookway, Vermont.
The eccentric widowed Fiona and her teenage daughter give refuge to the stranded travelers, allowing them to stay as long as is needed to repair the car. But what starts as a couple days, turns into weeks, as Sean seeks to repay their kindness by fixing up the rental home and Zoē’s reluctance to leave.
With Sean and Fiona slowly falling for one another, Zoē navigates her increasing obsessive-compulsive tendencies and new friendships, coming to terms with her loves and losses through visions, dreams, and poetic storytelling, at times unable to distinguish fantasy from reality.
NORTH OF AUTUMN, set in the same fictional town as Patrick Gillespie’s first novel TINY HOUSE, BIG MOUNTAIN, blends magical realism with acceptance, emotional balance, and love through the eyes of family and friendship.
In paperback at: Lulu, Barnes & Noble, or Amazon.
As an eBook at: Kindle.
Leave a review on Goodreads.
©️2025 | Patrick Gillespie
Patrick Gillespie can be found on his website PoemShape.
Author Spotlight: Dominik Slusarczyk
Dominik Slusarczyk won 3rd prize in Fiction in the Northwind Writing Award 2024 for his story “Erase Every Plate”. It is an honor to feature his Q&A here on Raw Earth Ink as part of our promotion of truly exceptional authors.
Q & A
Candice: Who are your influences in fiction? If they are not fictional, such as the natural world, or a painter, muse, or other, please explain.
Dominik: I started out as a painter so my biggest influence in getting into art was Vincent Van Gogh. As far as writing goes, I am a big fan of poetry so my biggest influences in getting into writing were Carol Ann Duffy and T.S. Eliot.
CD: This is not a children’s story but it also could be a children’s story because of the moral, fable-like quality it possesses. That’s a compliment. Was there an element of awareness that it could have that children’s story power to “Erase Every Plate”?
Dominik: I think all writing should be appropriate to people of all ages. I take great care to not include adult themes in my work because that would exclude younger people.
CD: Aside from other writers, what else gets your blood pumping when you feel engaged to write on subjects? What are those subjects and why do they appeal to you?
Dominik: I am always trying to experiment and try new things. The greatest subjects only appear after extensive work on a particular style.
CD: Tell us a little about what brought you to becoming a writer, what your story is there, and how it evolved from the time you began writing, until now?
Dominik: I became a writer because I wanted to make longer films. Paintings are small so you can’t say much with a painting. I started by writing poetry and then started writing fiction about a year later. I have recently started writing strange films with odd structures.
CD: You took some risks with this piece, as it’s untraditional. Did you think your writing would be received with as much love as it has been, when you submitted? Or did you fear the readers wouldn’t get what you were trying to say?
Dominik: I think this style is interesting. I was expecting people to want to publish some of it but I probably wasn’t expecting to place in competitions.
CD: Can you talk to us about writing this short story and how you began writing in this style and what your objective was in writing this and submitting it to an award?
Dominik: The idea came to me one day while I was writing other things. I wanted to write about objects because they are regularly ignored in favour of people.
CD: Did you find your writing changed over time and if so, how do you see that happening and what were the influencing factors to cause that shift/change?
Dominik: This style definitely changed over time. It is important to let what you are doing naturally change as new ideas come to you as you write.
CD: Your style is incredibly distinct. Did you deliberately create a niche in your writing that enabled your work to stand out and be noticed?
Dominik: I was trying to do something different because I think it is important to be constantly experimenting.
CD: As a reader of fiction, what do you like and dislike about the fiction you read, and why?
Dominik: My favourite part of writing is endings so I enjoy fiction that has a good ending.
CD: Was this a piece of fiction that flowed out of you or more one you planned out consciously? In other words, what was the inspiration there?
Dominik: I do not plan fiction at all. I was writing in this particular style but none of the elements of the story were planned beforehand.
Author bio: Dominik Slusarczyk is an artist who makes everything from music to painting. He was educated at The University of Nottingham where he got a degree in biochemistry. His fiction has been published in various literary magazines including moonShine Review and SHiFT – A Journal of Literary Oddities. His fiction came 1st in The Cranked Anvil Short Story Competition, 2nd in The Streetlight Magazine Flash Fiction Contest, and was a finalist in a number of other competitions. He is on Instagram and Twitter as @dom_slusarczyk.
To read The 2024 Northwind Treasury, including Dominik’s winning piece, you can purchase it in paperback on Lulu, Barnes & Noble, or Amazon, or as an eBook on Kindle. To see the list of contents and winners, visit our winner’s page.
Author Spotlight: Braeden Michaels
Braeden Michaels won 3rd prize in Prose Poetry in the Northwind Writing Award 2024 for his poem “Once Upon A Rain, She Bloomed.” It is an honor to feature his Q&A here on Raw Earth Ink as part of our promotion of truly exceptional authors.
Q & A
Candice: Braeden, firstly thank you so much for your beautiful submission. What stood out to all six judges of the prose-poetry award was the enduring strength of your storytelling and the vividness of Once Upon a Rain, She Bloomed. What inspired this story to be written?
Braeden: The poem is the epilogue of my most recent book Once Upon a Rain, She Bloomed. The idea of the book and the ending the book with this epilogue was understanding that you need to love yourself first. Often, we try to find people to make ourselves feel complete. Sometimes we try so hard to please others and not make ourselves happy in the process, but not realizing it. At some point we discover that we needed to meet this person to learn and grow as an individual. Often difficult times make us grow the most. The rain is symbolic of her tears.
CD: The gorgeous title alone hooked me. I have read a lot of your work and you consistently knock it out of the park. Raw Earth Ink and The Northwind Writing Award are very lucky to attract writers of your caliber and we deeply appreciate the effort you put into every single piece. How do you keep your work so sharp and finely written? What’s your secret?
Braeden: A lot of is just read, read, read! I am a fan of old poetry. I use a lot of symbolism and don’t want too much to be forward and direct. I want each line to have depth to pull the reader in. I take a lot of pride in language, word choice and titles. I will massage a piece until I am satisfied.
CD: With lines like: “I lie in my bed of careless decisions.” It’s impossible not to see you as a natural wordsmith. Have you always been able to crank out killer lines like that?
Braeden: I do feel it is natural, but I read and write daily. I have more patience in my craft and may spend a few days on a poem realizing this is going into a book. I want to make sure the entire book is cohesive.
CD: Does it annoy you when you read sub-par work that everyone seems to think is excellent? What do you think that’s about?
Braeden: I find it fascinating what pieces readers do comment on. In my head, I think I do have poems that I think are good, great or just nailed it. Sometimes the ones that are just good may get a reaction that I did not expect. I don’t have control of how people respond but always it’s encouraging.
CD: Was it challenging to write such a short prose-poetry piece, given it’s both poetic but also very much prose, and you tackle many things within less than a page worth of text?
Braeden: I am an introverted individual and need to be mentally challenged. Writing serves me so many different purposes but yes, I love the challenge.
CD: The story has several themes, it also feels like a song at times, or an ode to something, and there’s basically a lot happening with a killer opening line and equally powerful and impactful closing line. The language is gorgeous. How important is language in exploring the themes you write about?
Braeden: The language to me is critical. It is how I separate myself as an author. The language for me is the key ingredient.
CD: We all thought it was remarkable you could write so much in less than one page. When did you begin to write in the prose-poetry genre? How does it distinguish itself for you as a genre? Why are you comfortable with it?
Braeden: Honestly, I have a fear of writing prose pierces that are too long. I don’t want to bore the reader. I have always written more verse poetry but have dabbled in prose a little bit. When I won 1st place last year, it was an eye-opener. I am becoming more comfortable with it because I love the challenge of telling a story. Winning the award taught me so much about myself. This makes me more passionate about what I am doing.
CD: There’s a ton of beauty to Once Upon a Rain, She Bloomed. If you had to say, what is the key message for you in this?
Braeden: Pain and heartache will make you stronger. We all are flowers, and our tears make us look inward.
CD: Are there some quieter sub-texts here? Share any you want to.
Braeden: This is my trademark. Just the title alone is a subtext. I think you or anyone could read this poem multiple times and find them. It would be no fun if I gave you examples.
CD: Who are your influences in the genre of prose-poetry if any? If they are not in that genre are there some elsewhere, such as the natural world, or a painter, muse, or other, please explain.
Braeden: I have influences of poetry but not specifically for prose poetry. The last few poetry books I bought were of Charles Bukowski What matters most is how well you walk through fire and collected poems of Frank O’Hara. I love the Beat Generation poets, Ginsberg, and Kerouac. I have a good collection of poetry that I read. There are thousands of poets out there, well-known and hidden gems. One of the books I really enjoyed was by REI author G.M. Manzi, The Fog of the Midnight Hours. I cannot stress enough about reading and writing, they go hand in hand to be a successful writer.
CD: Did you find your writing changed over time and if so, how do you see that happening and what were the influencing factors to cause that shift/change?
Braeden: I think in our last interview I mentioned I used to write from a personal place but felt I was done doing that. It felt repetitive. To separate myself from others, to be a pioneer, is trying to crawl inside of others and write from their point of view. Once Upon A Rain, She Bloomed is from a woman’s point of view. Poetry is generally written from a personal place, and I bring something unique to the poetry community.
CD: As a writer, was there a time when you were unable to write and how did that affect you?
Braeden: I always find it interesting for those who writer’s block and or just unable to write. I have not really experienced this. There is inspiration every year. I tend to think we over think things and are aiming for perfection. Aim for growth not perfection.
CD: Please share any other aspects to your piece Once Upon a Rain, She Bloomed and what brought you to submit it to the Northwind Writing Award, that you believe readers would benefit from knowing about?
Braeden: I submitted four pieces, two free verse and two of prose. I intentionally selected pieces that felt distinctive from each other. In my book Once Upon A Rain, She Bloomed, each poem starts out with “Once Upon A…” as if each poem is a scene, memory, an event in this person’s life. I thought the entire book would be very relatable to any woman.
Author bio: Braeden Michaels is a two-time poetry award-winning winning author living in beautiful Georgia with his family and his own unique creativity. Within his analytical mind dwell the many passages and corners of a world built by observation, investigative perception, and penetrating rationale. He’s been published in several anthologies as well as his own books of poetry, written in the method of Deconstructive Literature, in which he pulls apart nuances within human nature then organizes and restores it in poetic style. You can read more from him on his website.
To read The 2024 Northwind Treasury, including Braeden’s winning piece, you can purchase it in paperback on Lulu, Barnes & Noble, or Amazon, or as an eBook on Kindle. To see the list of contents and winners, visit our winner’s page.
Author Spotlight: Joe Labriola
Joe Labriola won 3rd prize in Non-Fiction in the Northwind Writing Award 2024 for his piece “Beach Cleaned Eyes”. It is an honor to feature his Q&A here on Raw Earth Ink as part of our promotion of truly exceptional authors.
Q & A
Candice: Joe, firstly thank you so much for your beautiful submission. What stood out to all six judges of the non-fiction award was the emotive strength of your storytelling and the uniqueness of Beach Cleaned Eyes. What inspired this story to be written?
Joe: First of all, a huge thank you to the judges and everyone involved with this amazing award. The purpose of writing—in my opinion—is to share important messages with the world, and so being given the platform to do this is the greatest honor one can hope for.
I would describe the inspiration for this piece as a culmination of my beach cleaning experiences, which stems from my love of the ocean, having grown up always close to the water. What started as innocently noticing and then picking up some trash evolved over the years into ongoing advocacy—from working with students at my university’s Environmental Club, to hosting local events, to journeying cross country and sharing the stories of what I clean up along the way on social media. I think this piece is my way of contextualizing many of these experiences in how they illuminate humanity’s relationship with itself—and, of course, nature.
CD: The story has several themes, obviously a main one being COMPASSION, the other being what we do to the natural world, and then the alienation with that world and the connection with nature. Ultimately is it ever enough? There are questions of existence in this short piece. Did it start out that way – did you always see the parallels between the situations?
Joe: A piece like this is so strange to describe from a “craft” standpoint. The initial version looked very different from the final product, as there’s certainly a lot of “weaving” here of different situations that parallel each other in terms of relating to and building upon themes like you point out. And so I think that there was a lot of “trial and error” in the sense of writing out beach cleaning scenes that have stuck out in my mind over the years. There are many more experiences than those that made it into the final version, but I think starting with a pretty strong sense of some of the core themes (garnered from these very experiences)—even if I didn’t quite know their full commentary yet—was a huge point of guidance. It’s kind of like having a wobbly compass: maybe it’s not pointing directly north, but it’s close enough to get you to a broad ocean shore that you can then specifically find what you’re looking for.
CD: What I gained from this piece most of all was a renewed faith that we should do better (as humans) both to each other and respecting others, and then to nature. You manage to provoke this thought in a relatively short non-fiction piece, that at times reads like fiction but has the intensity of a first-person account. What was your goal in writing it?
Joe: That’s amazing to hear, as that was very much my intention! I think there’s lots of instances in this piece of exactly what you say. It’s almost like we sometimes overwhelm ourselves by thinking that since so many issues are so big, that small actions don’t mean anything. But it’s quite the opposite—just ask a lone horseshoe crab stuck on its back!
It’s interesting that you mention how it “at times reads like fiction,” as I consider myself a fiction writer by trade, so maybe it’s as simple as that, in how I work elements together with sentimentality toward that form. But I’m also a huge believer that forms like fiction and nonfiction exist for a reason: some content just works better in a given space. I think that was my feeling in how I decided to take these experiences from over several years and express them as a composite day, reflecting these themes of humanity’s relationship with itself and nature.
CD: How important is being completely original to you as a writer? How do you achieve this? Given that this piece had many moving-parts it felt very original from the start.
Joe: I think that originality is vital. One way I tell my creative writing students how to improve is to follow these three simple rules: read more, write more, and live more. The latter is essentially why this piece was possible. The experiences here probably ranged over the course of at least four or five years. I certainly think in a writerly way while I’m out beach cleaning, but at no point was I doing this work to gain content. Rather, I was doing the work to do the work, while simultaneously reflecting in my mind, building the connections that manifested the themes that ultimately appear here. You have to take note of that progress as you progress through life, even if the bigger puzzle picture isn’t initially clear. Every connection you make in your mind (no matter how small) that you add to your repository of context, is now there as source material in tandem with other deposited experience. You just have to trust the process. The puzzle picture will come if you’re patient and persistent.
CD: We all thought it was remarkable you could write so much in less than four pages. When did you begin to write in the non-fiction genre? How does it distinguish itself for you as a genre? Why are you comfortable with it?
Joe: I love the “honesty” of nonfiction, if that makes sense. And I think it’s why I take so long to publish nonfiction work too. Again, I love writing short fiction, but that has the advantage of going off in any number of imagined directions. But nonfiction is often all about the contextualization of the direct resource content (my experiences in this piece’s case). And so I think that’s why it sometimes takes me longer to publish in this form, but also why it’s so impactful when I do. It’s like how a great biographer spends years researching their subject, but only maybe 10 percent of their gathered content makes it into the published book. You need to do all that work to find that 10 percent, which doesn’t negate the other 90. On the contrary, the latter is necessary to yield the former.
CD: Do you think people go ‘unnoticed’ and if so, why does that matter to you? (It matters to me too, I just want to hear your perspective on this).
Joe: Oh yes, definitely. It’s an immensely complicated answer, but in general, I think what really goes unnoticed is who, what, and why people are the way they are, if that makes sense. Like, there’s a subtext in this piece about that, and one that I believe is so important to highlight. I see this particularly in the “lack of trust” of other groups, or what I sometimes call “strangerization.” Perhaps the most salient example of this comes with the fishing families’ dynamics with local homeowners. It’s easy for the latter to strangerize the former as infringing upon their property rights (as also seen via the no trespassing signs for anyone else).
But I don’t think either group fully understands the stories of the other (returning to the point of how certain groups can go so “unnoticed” in terms of their true motivations). Nor have I ever actually seen them interact—which is not to say that such exchanges don’t happen. But in a best case scenario, I imagine it ends up being parallel to me being confronted for seeming to collect shells, or just outsourcing any confrontation by calling the cops. People are busy and think they deserve what is rightfully “theirs.” But nature knows none of this. It just reacts and continues.
CD: How is Beach Cleaned Eyes different from a fictional piece? I mean, it could be considered fictional as much as non-fictional in some ways. How do you distinguish it?
Joe: It’s a really interesting question. I’ve definitely written fictional works that build upon some of these core experiences (or at least their corresponding themes). I think, in this case, the distinction can pretty much be boiled down to the fact that my fiction takes an idea and imagines new characters, scenarios, and circumstances (often more extreme versions) to manifest themes; while nonfiction is all about contextualizing whatever experiences I have to work with through choosing the most appropriate material.
But this returns to my previous point of why it takes me longer to publish a nonfiction work. There’s no opportunity to invent new or extreme characters, scenarios, and circumstances; I have to wait for them to actually show up. But the raw reality of these experiences ends up equally (if not more, in some cases) impactful if you’re just patient.
CD: You talk of beach trash and the notions of respecting the land versus people thinking someone volunteering to clear up, has no worth. If this is a personal account, what did that make you feel at the time?
Joe: That’s interesting because I think you might be touching upon a subtle theme but a powerful one that I’ve noticed in my years of beach cleaning. There’s this weird sense of “merit” or “creditization” of work in contemporary society—even (and perhaps sometimes especially) advocacy work. Who’s mandating it? Who’s signing off on volunteer hours? Who’s paying you to exchange your time for a public good?
Reducing ocean waste seems like such a daunting global challenge, that I often have (even well-meaning people) ask me, “Yeah, but does it really make a difference if the beach is just more trashed again tomorrow?” And this is such a bizarrely pseudo-nihilistic perspective to me. It’s tantamount in my opinion to arguing, “Why do you waste your time Saturday mornings volunteering at the local soup kitchen? Aren’t the homeless just going to be hungry again tomorrow? It’s not going to solve food insecurity.” I think this fatalism comes from how huge and abstract the issue of environmental degradation sometimes feels. A person can thank you for feeding them breakfast—a horseshoe crab can’t thank you for flipping them back over, or removing man made waste from cluttering their home and choking their water.
CD: Do you see non-fiction as being an opportunity to write about our experiences and relate them to bigger experiences and then reflect that back to the reader, or is non-fiction something else in your opinion?
Joe: I think this is definitely a big part of it. Obviously, nonfiction can be used in all sorts of ways with different effects in mind. But for me, there’s something really powerful about sharing experiences as truths that work to highlight certain themes that palpably connect to larger experiences and emotions that readers may themselves relate with.
CD: The judges were attracted to the way you were able to talk about a universal subject of alienation without being obvious about it. It fits really well into the person’s subjective experience. We weren’t sure if it was your direct experience or an amalgamation of a story of someone else’s experience. Put us out of our misery!
Joe: Thank you! I think, as I mentioned earlier, I extend this idea of “alienation” to “strangerization,” which I suppose is relatively synonymous. But there’s definitely a lot going on here about where this phenomenon is happening at all levels. The local homeowners alienate/strangerize the fisher families; they alienate/strangerize anyone who is on or near their “property.” But nature doesn’t abide by such constructs. It just is, and it just reacts to what we’ve decided seems to be. I’ve seen this all firsthand, and the conversations in this piece are pretty close to verbatim exchanges. It’s all not something that’s immediately obvious, but as you speak more and more with these types of people over the years, and you notice these trends, you start to be able to sense that there’s something specific going on under the surface here that’s reflective of our collective societal values, actions, and of course inactions.
CD: Are there some quieter sub-texts here? I don’t want to assume, but I think I can see some. Share any you want to.
Joe: Yes! I think we can simply go back to the opening’s gym bros who lament how “it’s nevah enough.” They’re talking about money, of course, but really their conversation is representative of late stage capitalism and what society deems as “life values/goals.” They’ve been told what matters in terms of wealth, success, family, etc.—and part of that is ever-striving for “more. ” But in many cases, they’re like rats in a wheel, pumping weights, never feeling like they’re “getting anywhere,” and not really even knowing where or why they’re headed anyways.
I try to drive this point home with the trope of “traffic, heat, and water,” which is a metaphor for modern American life. It’s a sense of frustration, but also a sense of feeling “trapped” as the world literally warms around us via just continuing to go about our business as if everything is normal. We like to think that we’ve “figured this planet out,” but I think it’s the opposite. Instead we’ve largely sort of “dug into” this sense of how to exploit our world to prop up what matters to us via status, wealth, and even family, as mentioned—without pausing to reassess the bigger picture: what we’ve lost and what we’re losing on our presently unadapting and unsustainable path.
CD: Who are your influences in the genre of non-fiction? If they are not non-fictional, such as the natural world, or a painter, muse, or other, please explain.
Joe: I think poetry in general is definitely a genre that I appreciate in terms of expressing the nuance of how nature impacts us. I also love fiction authors who’ve been able to manifest these themes in unique ways. Ursula K. Le Guin always comes to mind in how she was using environment to explore themes like race and gender all the way back in the 1960s as a female science fiction author. Really anyone who can do this through any creative medium is a rockstar worthy of musing in my opinion.
CD: Do you think non-fiction writers are very different to fiction writers in terms of what matters to them? Is their objective different?
Joe: That’s a really interesting question. I think from a craft standpoint, it comes down to one’s level of “comfort” writing within any form. I think many of the goals are the same in terms of highlighting what matters to us, but the pathways to get there are just different avenues for exploring and relating content.
CD: You talk a lot about longing. You want to go, the day is still young, you are still young. Are they part of who you are right now, the world ahead of you, wanting to get out there and make a difference? Do something that has worth rather than purely status?
Joe: That’s exactly right! There’s a subtler message here about challenging what we value as a society: wealth, success, family, etc. Throughout much of history, and even still to this day in many cultures, it’s a bit of an outcast thing to not be married with children by a certain age. Not that this is inherently always a bad thing or wrong, but as a monolith value it’s absurd to judge everyone’s “success” solely by these metrics. I say all this because I think this ties into this idea of “longing,” that is, longing to find a path that’s original, genuine, and truly meaningful to each of us in terms of what we ourselves value as success. It should be okay to take time to figure things out; you’re probably not as old as you might think—or at least as what society pressures you into thinking. I think we’re collectively getting better at this self-reflection, but it’s also an ongoing process.
CD: Aside from other writers, what else gets your blood pumping when you feel engaged to write on subjects? What are those subjects and why do they appeal to you?
Joe: I think this is the exact reason why I love beach cleaning. It’s kind of like writing in the sense of exploring new content; you never know what you’re going to find, or where it might lead (if you can think of an object, I’ve probably cleaned it up from the beach). Whether informing my nonfiction or giving me broader or key considerations for ideas to explore via fiction, actually going out and doing the work of doing something meaningful is inherently a great way to develop my writerly ideas.
CD: Can you talk to us about writing this short non-fiction piece and how you began writing in this style and what your objective was in writing this and submitting it to an award?
Joe: It’s interesting that you ask about submitting this piece to an award. I honestly don’t do this often, but I just thought that the universality and importance of these themes would shine through with the idea of potentially several judges as the initial audience. Audience consideration is always such an interesting concept in writing. I guess I just felt like these were messages that very different readers might be able to relate to—and I’m thrilled to see that they did!
CD: What power does writing in the non-fiction genre play in the translation of life?
Joe: That’s a great question too. I think that great first person nonfiction often has this underlying premise that the reader is not alone. My beach cleaning work is an outlet towards realization—and self-realization—of our relationships with ourselves, with each other, and with the world around us. I love the idea of this piece “raising questions” more so than “prescribing answers” for the reader. But I think one answer it does suggest is that even as one person, you’re not alone. At any point you can change your habits and make a difference; it can be beach cleaning, but it doesn’t need to be. It could be any other advocacy, just being kinder to those around you, or trying to be more honest with yourself.
CD: How important is age in writing? Do you find you have more to say at a younger age, than say, some who are older? What about gender? Do these things matter or is it just the story that matters?
Joe: I think there definitely is something to be said by being more “liberated” as a younger writer. That is, you’re not fenced in by an entrenched point of view, although you’re also limited in this sense. Contrastingly, as I’ve gotten older, I just feel like I have so much more perspective (both my own and that of others) to draw upon. I think the key here is to sort of remain open to the diversity of (and reasons for) different perspectives, even as yours develops with time.
Gender is an even more interesting consideration in some ways in how it can vastly influence a narrator or character’s perspective. And as perspective is how you can see and relate to the world, I think it has a huge impact in what details work to elicit certain themes in any given piece.
CD: When you write, do you sometimes try to write outside of yourself where there is no personal element and if so, is that why you are drawn to the non-fiction genre? Or do you find non-fiction enables you to write about personal things without needing to generate fiction around it? In other words, cut to the chase?
Joe: One of my favorite things about writing nonfiction where I’m the main character is the fact that I know (or so I hope) that character better than anyone. The same goes for settings, scenes, and even other characters. You can tangibly observe all of these, and think about how you could write about them. And that’s exactly what I do. Even when I’m out beach cleaning, I’ll think to myself, “Wow, that would be an interesting way to describe how [insert observation].” It could be about a piece of trash, the weather, or how someone is dressed. Sometimes you just have to enjoy the experience, but I’m also often processing how and why different ways of describing these elements and emphasizing certain details can work to be representative of different themes.
CD: As a reader of nonfiction, what do you like and dislike about the non-fiction you read, and why?
Joe: I think I particularly enjoy nonfiction writing that isn’t too “showy,” which of course is a very subjective distinction in many cases. What I mean more specifically is writing that is specific in both the themes and details, but not “showing off.” Subtle themes sometimes stand out more strongly to me for some reason. I even would go as far as to say that I like asking questions more than prescribing answers as mentioned earlier—which I like to think this piece does in its own way.
CD: As a writer, was there a time when you were unable to write and how did that affect you?
Joe: All the time! In fact, I think it’s a really important and underrated part of the process. Funny enough, a student just asked me yesterday, “What do you do when you get writer’s block?” I told him that it was a complicated answer, as there were actually several, depending upon the nature of the blockage. Sometimes it’s better to go around a wall rather than trying to bash through it. Or to work on another part of the puzzle rather than staying stuck looking for that one piece among a mammoth pile.
I always go back to my three pronged rule for writers: read more, write more, live more. If one isn’t working, just go to another. For me (and in regards to this piece) if I “got stuck” I could simply read similar works, or write other work, or go out and beach clean.
CD: Please share any other aspects to your piece Beach Cleaned Eyes and what brought you to submit it to the Northwind Writing Award, that you believe readers would benefit from knowing about?
Joe: It’s such a joy to see the Northwind Writing Award interested in this type of work—and so important too. Being able to translate any sort of advocacy into artistic form is truly a gift, and so having the platform to share that work is the greatest honor. I hope that readers feel even just a sprinkle of inspiration from this piece. That is the whole point after all: small changes, actions, and even just realizations can make huge differences—especially when added up. Progress starts with seeds—and seeds have the potential to bloom into forests if nurtured.
Author bio: Joe Labriola is a writing professor at Stony Brook University in New York, where he also serves as the Environmental Club’s Faculty Advisor. His fiction and nonfiction usually focuses on issues relating to nature and the environment as he is an avid beach cleaner and sustainability advocate, hosting cleanup events, lectures, and even a TEDx Talk. When he is not writing, you can most often find him scouring his local beach for litter—and then taking a swim once it is clean.
Previous publications:
- Dark Yonder, print (fiction): “Beach House”, 2023
- Twenty-two Twenty-eight, online (fiction): “Vegelante”, 2023
- Elsewhere: A Journal of Place, online (fiction): “Blowout Tide”, 2022
- After Dinner Conversation, print and online (fiction): “The Room Above”, 2021
- Amazon, print and eBook (non-fiction): “Beach Cleaner’s Guide”, 2019
- Garo Station, online (fiction): “Coloring In”, 2018
- Eastern Iowa Review, print (non-fiction): “And You Realize You Wander With Glasses”, 2017
- BlazeVOX, online (fiction): “Golden Delicious”, 2012
Socials:
https://www.instagram.com/professor_labs/
Linkedin.com/in/joelabriola
To read The 2024 Northwind Treasury, including Joe’s winning piece, you can purchase it in paperback on Lulu, Barnes & Noble, or Amazon, or as an eBook on Kindle. To see the list of contents and winners, visit our winner’s page.
Author Spotlight: Sherry Morris
Sherry Morris won 2nd prize in Fiction in the Northwind Writing Award 2024 for her story “Green Tights”. It is an honor to feature her Q&A here on Raw Earth Ink as part of our promotion of truly exceptional authors.
Q & A
Candice: Sherry, first thank you so much for your great submissions. What stood out to all the judges was the originality of your writing. You are a writer who stands out for this reason: in your selection of subject, title, and how you formulate your story. In a world of “sameness” how do you achieve the impossible, and stay original?
Sherry: Gosh, what an interesting and original question! I don’t plan to be original, I just try to write stories about characters I find interesting. Or I’ll write an ‘ordinary’ character who has something interesting happen to her and see how she responds. I’m always on the lookout for interesting facts or news stories to use in my fictional stories. When I hear or read something I think is interesting, I write it down—either in the notes section of my phone or in a little notebook I carry with me. Then, later, I go back and see if a story or character develops, or if the snippet can be used in a story or piece of flash I’m currently working on. I’m glad you think my ideas are interesting and original too!
CD: Is it abundantly clear you are able to mesh the power of humor, original perspective, and concepts that are out of the ordinary in your writing. Is there a story behind how you write as you do?
Sherry: I often write without much of a plan and just throw various interesting bits I’ve collected (see above) together and see what unfolds. The ‘voice’ of the story usually comes to me first and that determines the setting/location of the story and helps me figure out who the character is, what bits fit for this character and story, and what bits are for another story. Maybe some of the ‘out-of-the-ordinary-ness’ comes from the fact that I’ve been lucky enough to live in several different countries, each with its own unique and interesting ways that seem ordinary to the people there, but are fascinating to me.
CD: Beginning your piece I didn’t know what to expect, the obvious question being, how would green tights factor in and how important could green tights be? That’s half the surprise of the story, the way you work in things that don’t seem possible to relate, yet somehow you do. Is this true of most of your work or did you particularly employ this in “Green Tights”?
Sherry: I suppose it’s a feature of all my stories… linking together things that don’t seem to have any connection into something coherent. I see story writing as similar to putting together a jigsaw puzzle. My stories start out as many various pieces, the odd and interesting bits I’ve collected, a character’s voice and then a setting/location. My job (and challenge) as a writer is to take all these disparate bits and fit them together into an interesting, and hopefully meaningful, story that fits together well. Luckily for me, I love putting together puzzles!
CD: For short stories, the importance of the ‘opening line hook’ is more important than ever. Did it take you a long time to create your hook for this piece?
Sherry: I always knew the story would start with the protagonist finding Marianne in a ditch. I saw that image straightaway in my head and there was never any doubt that was how the story would open. I spent time finessing and polishing that first line—it was a startling image—and I wanted the opening line to match it.
CD: How important to you is the necessity of the unpredictable and the original in a short story specifically and if so, why?
Sherry: I suppose it’s quite important though I’ve not really thought about it in that way. I simply try to keep the story interesting to me. Because if I’m bored as the writer writing it, then the reader will be bored reading it—and that’s no good.
CD: When beginning your story, did you know exactly where it was going to go, or did it make itself known someway through?
Sherry: I wrote this story quite a while ago now, pretty much all in one go. Then I forgot about it and discovered it on my laptop I don’t know how much later. I had always wanted to write a story where a woman thinks the cracks in her bathroom mirror are the face of the Virgin Mary (a news story I’d heard on the radio) but I didn’t want to write a story ABOUT that woman. What I thought would be more interesting is to write about a woman (Lilith) who is the opposite of the cracked-mirror woman (Marianne) and have them interact. It was always the voice of Lilith I heard so I had to figure out what a tough character like Lilith could learn from someone as vulnerable and seemingly helpless as Marianne. I didn’t know how the story would end. I usually don’t know how my stories will end, but when I got to the end, I knew this was the right ending for it.
CD: Is the genre of short story telling one that is personally important to you and if so, what’s the story behind that?
Sherry: I always wanted to write short stories, I fell in love with them in middle school where I was introduced to stories like “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” by Ambrose Bierce and “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson. They made a huge impression on me and that’s my preferred format to write. But short stories take me a long time to get right. I love novels too, but I’ve never had the slightest desire to write a book. Too much work! I discovered flash fiction (very short fiction) and write a lot of that. I have most of my success with flash fiction but my heart remains with short stories.
CD: Was there a particular person or persons who inspired or encouraged you to become a writer?
Sherry: As a kid I’d always been a big reader but I never thought much about writing stories until my high school English teacher inspired me. He taught Creative Writing and sparked something in me—he’s the reason I became a writer. He encouraged me throughout high school and college to write. He told me I was a writer. Even after I moved to the UK we stayed in touch—I’d visit him and spend time with him and his family when I was in the States—they were all very generous and kind to me. I always shared my writing success with him, and he even appears in a few of my stories. He passed recently and it’s a deep, deep loss. I know he was proud of me and he knows that every time I write a story, it’s because he believed in me.
CD: Did you think your writing would be received with as much love as it has been, when you submitted? Or did you fear it would be misunderstood/not related to?
Sherry: I’m always delighted when a story I’ve written is accepted and I was dumbstruck to learn all four pieces I submitted to The Northwind Writing Award had made the shortlist. When a writer finds her ‘tribe’—the editors and readers who ‘get’ her work—it’s magic!
CD: I felt such sadness in this story which, juxtaposed against the humor and insight, was at times very disquieting (in a very good way). Do you see this story as being ultimately sad? What’s the message there?
Sherry: I see “Green Tights” as a story where the main character grows. She learns to accept help, that she can’t always do everything on her own, and that help is sometimes on offer from the most unlikely sources. The lesson is to be open to change. Lilith also learns everything in life isn’t one thing or the other: crazy/sane, black/white… Sometimes things are…green. So I see it mostly as a positive story.
CD: I have always personally appreciated and loved the dark humor genre, where something is ultimately quite upsetting but the way it’s written makes you smile at the same time. Is that a genre you often write in? Do you find it is one you are very comfortable with?
Sherry: I belong to an in-person writing group that meets once a month to share and critique work. Often the comment is that my stories are a quirky mix of humour and sadness/pain. I don’t set out to do that when writing a story but I’m glad I can—in a way this replicates life.
CD: How much of your own direct lived experience relates to what you write and what you include in your writing?
Sherry: There’s almost always a kernel of direct experience somewhere in my stories. Not necessarily a character, but an observation, item, or detail. Sometimes it is a direct living experience but altered. I hardly ever completely make something up—I find I don’t need to; real life is interesting and strange enough.
CD: As a writer, was there a time when you were unable to write and how did that affect you?
Sherry: A few years ago, during the pandemic, I struggled to write anything. It was a stressful time, but also with all the free time I had (because we couldn’t go out and do things), I felt I *should* be writing. And that self-pressure made me unable to write anything. I’ve discovered the busier I am with non-writing projects, the more intentional I am when I do sit down to write—otherwise I procrastinate. So I try to keep busy with other tasks and projects (photography, local charities, presenting a spoken-word radio show) to give myself a smaller window of time to write. And then I write more productively.
CD: Please share any other aspects of your writing life.
Sherry: I’ve recently started presenting a monthly, online spoken-word show featuring short stories and flash fiction through Inverness Hospital Radio. The show focuses on stories with a Scottish Highland setting or stories by writers with a connection to the Highlands—though sometimes I include stories I’ve simply fallen in love with and want to share. The hour-long show includes music and chat and the plan is to also have interviews with local writers. The programme airs on Fridays at noon UK time and there is also a Listen Again feature. Check out ‘Sherry’s Shorts’ via the website or MixCloud. I source the stories for the show myself which means I’m reading more short stories and flash fiction which is fantastic. You learn so much about writing from reading other writers. I would definitely suggest volunteering to read for print and online journals or competitions. It’s an invaluable experience.
CD: I’d love to know personally how you came to the decision to call this “Green Tights”?
Sherry: I’ve learned titles are super-important in a story—especially in flash fiction when the word count is small. I usually spend time thinking about the title, considering what best encapsulates the story or, better yet, expands the meaning of the story. But sometimes, as with “Green Tights”, it’s simply a key item in the story. You could say, the title subtly suggests an idea I mentioned earlier—not everything is black or white, sometimes it’s green. And green is the colour of spring, new starts—which is how the story ends, with a new start.
Author bio: Originally from Missouri, Sherry Morris writes prize-winning fiction from a farm in the Scottish Highlands where she pets cows, watches clouds and dabbles in photography. She also presents a monthly online spoken-word radio show featuring short stories and flash fiction on Inverness Hospital Radio. Many of her stories stem from her Peace Corps experience in 1990s Ukraine and she received a 2025 Best of the Net nomination from Fictive Dream for her story ‘The Cabbage Tree’. Read more of her work at http://www.uksherka.com.
Twitter: @Uksherka
Bluesky: @uksherka.bsky.social
To read The 2024 Northwind Treasury, including Sherry’s winning piece, you can purchase it in paperback on Lulu, Barnes & Noble, or Amazon, or as an eBook on Kindle. To see the list of contents and winners, visit our winner’s page.
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