Jeff Landon teaches creative writing at a community college in Virginia, where he lives with his wife and two daughters. His writing has been published in Other Voices, Crazyhorse, New Virginia Review, Another Chicago Magazine, Phoebe, Night Train, Quick Fiction, and SmokeLong Quarterly, among other journals.

You attended a flash fiction panel, organized by Kim Chinquee, at The Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP) conference, which was held in Atlanta this year. Tell us all about it. And I mean all about it…

There were seven of us on the panel, Kim, Claudia Smith, Girija Tropp, Liesl Jobson, Darlin Neal, Kathy Fish and me. I was invited, obviously, as the eye candy of the group, probably due to my uncanny resemblance to the young Tom Jones.

OK, really, we talked about flash fiction, and online writing groups, and it went really well except we talked too much and cut into Girija’s time, but she was gracious about it. We each talked a little bit about flash fiction, and then we each read something we wrote. The conference was incredibly fun, busy, and stimulating. I loved Lee Smith’s keynote address, Jim Tomlinson’s reading, the Rose Metal Press people, the free or almost free literary magazines—everything, really. There was also some drinking involved, and that went well, too. Eating was a challenge. If you stayed in the hotel, the lines for coffee and a muffin were fairly staggering. It wasn’t a perfect venue—the rooms were close together and laughter would drift in at inappropriate times, but overall it was pretty great. I got to meet people in person that I’d only known online, and I miss them so much now.

*

Recently, you attempted to write a young adult novel, which, as you said, turned out to be harder than you thought. How would you describe the difference between the novel and short story, in terms of the writing process and the degree of difficulty?

Well, before trying this, I also tried, and failed, to write a decent normal novel. I have an MFA from George Mason University, and Richard Bausch was my mentor/lead teacher/whatever you want to call it—he was a great teacher, by the way, funny, passionate and honest. Anyway, after I graduated, I wrote a bunch of stories, and published a few of them, and agents (two, to be exact) would write and ask for a novel. So, I tried. And failed completely. Now, I don’t even think I’ll try anymore. I like stories more on every level, and the world will get along just fine without a novel by me. In fact, the world is a better place without it.

But, having said all that, I’m seeing all sorts of fine novels in the young adult department these days. I’m reading one right now, by Margo Rabb, and I’ve always enjoyed writing about teenagers. Most YA novels move quickly, and feature plenty of dialogue, and I’ve always tended to do both these things—although in a plotless way. Novels require plot and (I would argue) short stories don’t. The great thing about novels is getting lost, deeply, in another world. But I prefer short stories.

*

Your story, “Five Fat Men in a Hot Tub,” is consistently ranked in the top ten reads at SmokeLong Quarterly, where it was published in issue ten. What draws people to this story, do you think?

Oh, you know what? I think it’s a porn thing. I don’t think it has much to do with the story itself. I mean, Steve Almond’s story “Pornography” has been #1 forever, and he’s a pretty well-known writer, so that’s a part of it, but, C’mon? It’s the title, too. So, clearly, I think people go to Google, and put in filthy thinks like Fat Men in Hot Tub, and it takes them to this story, and then they go, Hey! these dudes aren’t getting it on! And then they go on to the next thing on their porny journey.

*

But it’s not a porn story at all. It’s a story about friendship, and helping each other through life’s crap. Personally, I found it refreshing to read a story that shows men doing this instead of women. There is always something boyish and playful to the way men tackle problems. Why is that?

Thanks, and no, it’s not a porn story, but I think, honestly, that the porn side explains the number of readers, although my sister told me that she loved the illustration. It is absolutely a story about friendship in the middle-age part of life. These guys, at this point, pretty much know where they stand in the world. And there’s some sadness in that knowledge, but also comfort. Also, I think this is how guys deal with bad news—oh, your wife left you, that sucks. Hey, I know, let’s get drunk and go skiing.

*

You served as guest editor for SmokeLong Quarterly’s issue 5. How much fun was it to work with Dave Clapper and his staff? What did you learn about SmokeLong? About editing?

It was fun, but not easy. I hated to turn down stories written by friends, stories that I had personally solicited, but voting was done by the group, and, actually, I’m in favor of that for many reasons. I like the guest editor idea at SmokeLong. Dave and his staff do a great job, and it’s thankless at times. We were always hoping, every day, for a story we’d love.
There’s no joy in saying no to writers. You have to be a little bit insane to write fiction when the world and so many of the keepers of the world, tell you no, and no again, and if you have the opportunity to say Yes, that’s a great thing.

I don’t think I learned that much about editing. Personally, I can’t stand adjectives or adverbs, but I’m against any Set Rules.

I did learn, however, that in a short-short story, the opening sentence needs to be strong. Flash fiction—I can’t stand that term, but I don’t have anything better—is useful for any writer, I think. You really need to think about structure, pace, shape, all of it.

*

Speaking of editing, you also served as an editor for Night Train. How different were the two journals in terms of editorial style and process?

Rusty Barnes works so hard for Night Train and I’m glad to see him trying again. It took longer to read for Night Train because we were reading short stories, not flash fiction, and as a staff, they were adamant about each reader reading the entire story—and I know this is not always the case, but I respect them for this stance. Usually, I think you can tell on the first page, and sometimes in the first sentence, if the story is a good for you, personally, but you need to continue reading because sometimes—actually, frequently—you will discover that the story begins on page four.

My good friend, Kathy Fish, wrote a wonderful story that we took at Night Train, and that was rewarding for me because at first the ending wasn’t quite hitting that right note (and I think endings are the hardest, and maybe most essential part of a story) but she kept working, and, voila, she found that note, and we took her story, and the world made sense.

*

Once upon a time, you taught creative writing to elementary school children. Now, you teach at a community college. Seems like quite a leap! Which job is the more challenging? More rewarding?

Oh, I was mostly a tutor to elementary school children, and it was mostly, frankly, incredibly tedious. But one teacher talked to me about my background, and she set it up so I taught a poetry writing class once a week—and I quickly turned this into a prose poetry workshop since I don’t know much about poetry, but I like it. Still, bad poetry is absolute torture. Bad fiction is no Disneyland, but reading bad poetry is like driving into quicksand, in a bus, a bus filled with kittens and knitting grandmothers. Well, no, it’s nothing like that.

I like everything about the community college system. It’s a great equalizer.

The tuition is low, and the classes are small, and if the students decide to excel, they can get into some great four-year colleges and universities. I love teaching here, at John Tyler Community College, even if it is named after maybe the worst president in history. My students, for the most part, are an absolute pleasure to know and teach.

*

What are your favorite books to read to children?

In the sixth-grade, my favorite book, by far, was Letters to the Happy Hooker. It was pretty filthy. My mom bought this for me before I went on a field trip with the Patrol Boys to Washington D.C.

I do not recommend this book for children, however.

I loved Goodnight Moon. It’s so direct, vivid and beautiful. The words are simple, but I feel like crying when I see the cover now, because I remember holding my then-tiny children, reading those words, and then tucking them into sleep, and then getting loaded!

Of course, I loved Charlotte’s Web, but my kids were bored by it.

The Captain Underpants books are really funny and subversive in all the best ways, and I also love many things about Hank the Cowdog.

I can’t stand those Junie B. Jones books—and I read most of them. Berenstain Bears were the absolute worst of them all. I can’t stand those stupid bears.

Dr. Seuss, of course.

*

When you tell people you’re a writer, what is the most common reaction you get?

At first, I never tell people that I’m a writer. When people ask, what do you do? I say, I teach. Later, I’ll admit that I also write, but it’s a sheepish admission. I’m sure if I had an actual book to my name, I’d be more vocal about it, but, at this point, I just want to write stories. I don’t even like sending them out. It’s a strange sick thing.

*

What does Jeff Landon want most out of life?

I want to live a life filled with as much kindness and laughter as possible. I also want to get some fancy alligator shoes, because then people would respect me more and step aside when I walked down the avenue.

*

Contact Jeff

Read:

“Thirty-Nine Years of Carrie Wallace”
published by SmokeLong Quarterly

“Like Swimming”
published by Pindeldyboz

“Catholic Girls”
published by FRiGG

“Castanets”
published by FRiGG




Filed Under: The Writer Profile Project |