Echoes Q&A WITH BECKY MAnDElBAUM Author of BAD KANSAS
Sense CADMAN, 2020 How long did it take you to write the stories in Bad Kansas? I started the earliest stories in the collection when I was 23 and still living in Lawrence. I submitted the whole thing to the Flannery O’Conner Award competition when I was 25 and had just finished my master’s in California; the book was, for the most part, my master’s thesis. So, roughly three years overall. What challenges do you have as a writer? That’s a great question—I’ll start with a story. When I was an undergraduate at KU, I had the honor of interviewing the poet Nikky Finney, who had just won the National Book Award. One of the first questions I asked her was, “How do you know if you should make writing your career?” (I was, of course, wanting her to give me permission to pursue writing—I was constantly doing this as a young writer and, in some ways, am still doing it today, even after two book publications, if that tells you something already.) She looked at me very seriously and said, “If you can do anything else and be happy, do that. If you can be a nurse, be a nurse. If you can be a lawyer, be a lawyer.” She stared me down, to check that I was listening. “This is not an easy life.” I remember thinking at the time: Well, she’s a poet! That’s why it’s hard! I figured I was going to write novels, and somehow this would make everything easier. Of course, Finney was more than right; this is not an easy life. Not that anybody’s life is easy, but writing will take a straight, obvious path and twist it into a labyrinth. You will have to find a way to earn a living that leaves both the time and creative energy for writing; this is not an easy task. You will have to be flexible, you will have to make sacrifices, you will have to wake up early or stay up late at night. You will have to say no to things you want to do, you will have to say yes to things you don’t want to do. You will have to put the writing first, or it will sink to the bottom of your schedule, or your life, like a stone. You will have to truly love the writing. You will have to be obsessed. If you can do anything else and be happy… This truly has to be the case—you have to love the work, love the simple act of sitting down and putting words on a page—or else it’s simply not worth the chaos. Are there any moments when you feel the effects of your work on other people’s lives? A few moments stand out. One was in Davis, California, where I went to grad school. I’d won an award from an organization called Stories on Stage, which brings in actors to read short stories at a local art gallery. At the reception, I had the pleasure of seeing the town’s poet laureate read my story “Queen of England.” The poet did a tremendous job—he had a special voice for the narrator and nailed all the jokes. When the reading was over, I was mingling with my friends when a little woman with white hair approached me, a huge smile on her face. She was probably in her 80s. “Did you write that story?” she asked. When I told her yes, she was so excited, explaining that the relationship between the brothers in the story reminded her of the relationship she had with her sister. “The whole time, I just kept thinking about my sister. It was wonderful,” she said. I can’t be sure, but I’m assuming her sister had passed. She was just so visibly delighted—it was easily the best moment of my writing career, even though I didn’t know it at the time. Just seeing that kind of joy on someone’s face, because of something I wrote. That was something else. Recently, I received an email from a stranger saying that one of my humor articles made him laugh harder than he has in a long time. He went on to say that he suffers from PTSD and depression, and that my article made his day a little more cheerful. Truly, whatever pleasure comes from winning prizes or publishing is nothing compared to these moments. It’s easy to forget the written word is still alive despite all our digital distractions. I can read a book and think “I’m a better person having read this book,” but it’s nearly impossible to imagine a reader having that same reaction to my work. Never underestimate the kindness or generosity of readers, which brings me to another point: if you read something you love, write the author and tell them! Even if you don’t hear back, it’s never a mistake. Did The Independent School help you become the writer that you are now? I owe so much to Independent and the teachers I had there, specifically my English teachers. Attending a school like Independent is such a massive privilege, one I appreciate more and more as I get older and recognize the gift of my education. I took my first creative writing class
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