Fictionary / Fall 2009

I think it’s safe to say that we writers all draw water from the same well. No village, no confluence of people, no settlement of society has ever taken root too far from fresh water. How could writers be any different? Call the water what you will—creative inspiration, Homer’s blindness, a strong affinity for drinks and buffoonery, whatever—but it is a symbol of our shared experience, our common suffering, what we continually trudge back to the well to collect, running into and remembering each other along the way.

Don’t get me wrong, the writing itself will always be that sacred and solitary act, that fix we sneak away to dose up on in dank basements, windowless offices, before the milkman wakes, and after the night watchman begins to dream. But what would we do without each other? What draft is fully polished without another set of trusted eyes? And what’s more inspirational than experiencing the top-shelf work of another writer, someone who’s already harnessed what we have only just set out to find?

This issue of fictionary aims to corral this community of writers, to delve into what we do and shine some light on it for a while. In anticipation of Story Week 2010, we bring you the premiere fictionary interview with its genre-bending headliner, Joyce Carol Oates. Five graduates of our program stop by to show us just how far this “writing thing” can take us. The chair of our department, Randy Albers, recommends a few books that just might change our lives, including, as is natural, some Hafiz. Chicago’s Lit Scene gives New York’s the finger; Mort Castle dissects some horror with a rusty scalpel; a punk Cinderella gives us craft through vinyl 45s. And that is only the beginning.

All I know is that I draw upon our community often and can only hope to give back some portion of what I take. During this issue’s 11th hour, I got married to a woman more wonderful than any I could write, so I’m amazed this issue still made it to print. I have to thank the writers (some of our very finest) for contributing, Sam Weller for everything he’s ever done for me, and Karen Schmidt for staying the course whileI was off getting hitched.

Fictionary began many years ago as a stapled, Xeroxed newsletter, a town herald that brought the Fiction Writing Department its annual news. Over time, the magazine has grown glossy and fat, more expansive in scope, more widespread in audience and acclaim. But on some level, we hope it remains the same, something all writers everywhere can glance over and chat about as we tug on the rope pulley, arm after arm, raising up our buckets from the hidden waters of the well.



James Lower
August 2009