TDR caught up with Sarah Steinberg, who just released her debut collection of fiction We Could Be Like That Couple… (Insomniac Press, 2008) to discuss getting a job, stalkers, influences and serving the community. After several ‘What’s wrong with you!?’ and ‘What does that even mean?!’ the questions were answered in the sizzling dearth of electronic communication in June 2008.

*

TDR: When did you start working on the stories in We Could Be Like That Couple...?

SS: I wrote the title story a long time ago, maybe 2003. A couple of the stories had been started and then abandoned several times (and I'm sure if you took those stories to a psychiatrist they would be told they had abandonment issues). I picked them back up and finished them in 2007.

TDR: How do you feel about voice in prose? Do you write stories from a variety of point of view (POV) until you get the right voice?

SS: I do. A lot of the stories changed in POV once I started editing. I've been experimenting with second person, which I hear is dangerous. People, I've been told, don't like it.

TDR: Do you like readings?

SS: The last time I read was a couple of weeks ago, in Montreal. It had been nearly 4 years. My friend Ethan told me afterwards that when I'd got on stage I'd looked so nervous he was getting ready to avert his eyes. I felt like I couldn't breath. And then I started to read the story and people laughed. Which, in this case, was a good sign. I enjoyed that reading.

TDR: What did you do to Matrix Magazine?

SS: I was the Frontispieces editor.  We did kindergarten art critiques, workshopped pop songs, put in comics. We tried to take the piss in a literary kind of way, whatever that means. I don't think they're using that format anymore.

TDR: What are some of your literary goals?

SS: I'd like to continue writing short stories and I'd hope that they'd continue to get better. That's the goal. I want to be a very fine writer one day. I want to publish a children's book, just like Madonna (and every other over-the-hill rock star) only I'd like mine to be much, much, better. I've been thinking about whether or not the novel form is something I could handle lately. I'd also like to write a dime-store style mystery about a puppy detective who works in San Francisco. And my biggest dream has always been to be published in The Best American Short Stories series.

I wouldn't call what I do here in Washington "living" exactly. I wrote the book here. I spend about half the year in Canada and I've been working in Vancouver a lot lately. The rest of the time I freelance so it doesn't much matter where I am. My boyfriend was getting his master's degree in International Affairs here, at George Washington U, so I begrudgingly agreed to support him in that endeavour. Now that he's done we're moving in a couple of weeks.

SS: Well, last month I spent several hours researching how I could volunteer my time with a creative writing program that takes place in the inner-city here in DC, and then after getting all the salient information I didn't do a thing about it. I'm not saying that to be cute, either. I think this is a tough question. It forces me to look at my life and ask myself whether what I have contributed has equalled or surpassed what I have taken. And the short answer is probably no. I'm almost always congenial with the people who sit next to me at my local bar, which I think is sort of a community service.

TDR: Are you a cultural worker?

I don't even know what that means. Occasionally I don a Mickey mouse suit and dance jazz-like for folks. Is that what you mean? No seriously, I asked around, and no one knows what this means. Maybe I've been asking the wrong people. Is Tyra Banks, as the host, producer, and creator of America's Next Top Model a cultural worker?

SS: Lorrie Moore, certainly. I read her stories again and again. Elyse Gasco's "Can You Wave Bye Bye Baby" - I read that when I was about 17 years old and I remember feeling a mix of adoration and jealousy for the author, and thinking "one day I'm going to write my own." It was the first time I'd had that feeling (which I'm so accustomed to now and which is so useful as a writer). Richard Fords shorts stories. Rick Moody's Demonology. I'm reading Adam Gollner's "The Fruit Hunters" right now and it's amazing. His commitment and expertise is inspiring. George Saunders. Judy Bloom. Joan Didion. Kenneth Koch. And I'm pretty influenced by pop culture. I've spent a lot of time watching MTV in the past year - I never had cable before in my life - and I'm pretty fascinated.

SS: Stalkers are great. You are standing outside my apartment with a pair of binoculars right now, so you tell me. That was hilarious. Anyway, yes, I think word of mouth (or let's just call it WOM?) is very important. Of course it is. The question is kind of ambiguous, because I suppose you could be asking me whether it matters or not that I sell more books. And here's what I have to say to that: I'd love for people to read this book. I was so happy when people I didn't know bought the book after the reading in Montreal. So WOM is important, and I'd love for people to read the book, and the sales have nothing to do with it since I'm not planning on getting rich from my first book of short stories.

TDR: How does music or other genres such as art, film, porn, news, or food influence your work?

SS: Well, I spend a lot of time eating, watching porn, and reading the news (usually at the same time). So there's no way that stuff won't creep in to your work. I like to clip articles out of newspapers. Right now I have a great full-page ad from the Washington Post pasted on the wall of my office. Larry Flynt bought the ad, and it offers a one million cash reward to anyone who is willing to squeal about having had a sexual encounter with a current member of US congress or a high-ranking government official. There's a hotline number.  A couple of people have pointed out that there's a lot of references to food in my stories. I love music and it influences me. I've been jealous of melodies before, like, "I want to create that exact feeling too!"  That sounds pretty pretentious, but it's true.

TDR: Some of your stories have appeared in magazines and things like that before they were in this book. How important is the role of literary magazines for young upstarts or senile upstarts who are trying to find hope in the publishing world?

SS: All-important. Unless your mom happens to be an editor at McLelland & Stewart and you happen to be an incredibly talented writer, chances are you're going to have to send your work to magazines if you want it to be read. But working with a magazine can be such a great experience. When I published in "THIS" Magazine, I had the opportunity to work with Stuart Ross. I loved having him edit my work. It was a joy to have someone go through my story and give it the utmost attention. An experience like that would be worth a lot of rejection letters.

TDR: Don’t bring my mother into this Sarah. Let’s continue. What are you working on now?

SS: I'm working on trying to get a job in Montreal but if that doesn't work out we're going to California. I'm retooling a children's book I wrote called "Tommy Age Six and the Big Huge Dump" - contrary to what it sounds like it is not actually about poop. I'm writing a short story called "Resources." And I'm writing a lot of lists. Mostly to-do lists.

SS: I don't think "should" need apply to whether or not a writer talks about how they write. I don't have strong feelings about whether an author wants to talk about that. And sometimes it makes for good reading too, and sometimes it's useful or at the very least interesting. I read Walter Mosley's "This Year You Write Your Novel" recently - which isn't exactly the same thing - but it was a really sleek little book that said everything that needed to be said about writing your novel this year in about 50,000 words. In terms of writers that go to school and then go on to write romance novels (or whatever) for giant advances, I am not mad at them. Work is work, and giant advances are giant advances, and you know, I guess they get their just deserts by not being admitted to our "amazing community of bickering" and instead have to spend all their time by the pool sipping margaritas. So they get theirs.

SS: Of course I do. Are you about to offer me some?

TDR: [Feat-Editor shuffles papers, nods. Reloads Atwood Pez dispenser.]