Turning Natural Order on Its Head: Barrelhousing with Jennifer Fliss
We can’t wait for Jennifer Fliss’s new book THE PREDATORY ANIMAL BALL!
Barrelhouse Assistant Editor Hannah Grieco talked to Jennifer about field mice, flash fiction, and, of course, The Swayze Question.
Jennifer Fliss is a writer known for her varied styles and accomplishments. From her flash fiction in 2019’s Best Small Fictions Anthology, to her parenting work in The Washington Post, to her food and humor pieces – there’s nothing Fliss can’t explore on paper. She tackles hard, alarming ideas with a singular focus and tight, perfect prose.
THE PREDATORY ANIMAL BALL is Fliss’s new flash collection, coming out December 14th from Okay Donkey Press, and it’s as weird and brilliant as we’ve come to expect from her! I read the book twice, marveling at how she uses language to push the narrative forward. A masterclass in very short stories.
Barrelhouse: Tell us about your collection.
Jennifer Fliss: The Predatory Animal Ball is a flash fiction collection, that is, the stories clock in at one thousand (or so) words or less. The eponymous story is a kind of fairy-tale where a field mouse accidentally receives an invitation for The Predatory Animal Ball and decides to attend. It’s about being places not for you, about taking a stand against predators despite being told this is the way of the world, that it’s the natural order of things.
It’s about the upper echelon partying – seemingly carefree – amidst the sorrow and fear of those below them on the food chain. These days especially it’s being laid bare how wildly different people’s experiences in life are. The very wealthy are predatory and have no problem with their ostentatious displays of their wealth as if it is those displays that determine their worth as a human.
They spill money and carelessness like red wine while so many struggle just to put food on the table. In my stories I want to expose the many kinds of predators and how we can turn the “natural order” of the world on its head.
BH: You write very short stories, so we get to read a lot of different styles and voices in this book! How did you pick which stories to include? How did you decide on the order?
JF: When I read a collection, I like to feel like I’m on a rollercoaster. Ups and downs, time and space to breathe before I sail (and maybe flail) down a hill again. I tried to make it well-rounded in that way. We also decided to format it in the order in which I wrote it (not exactly, but close). So, for me, it almost feels like a progression of my own aging and wisdom as a writer.
BH: Were there any stories you loved, but decided not to include? Why?
JF: I have another collection that consists primarily of longer stories. (Though it also has a few flash in there as well.) I put that collection together first and it was a cohesive full-length work. I didn’t want to take from that collection for this one. But / and / also, I have stories that just didn’t fit the theme at all.
Some of the stories in The Predatory Animal Ball are more obviously linked to the predator theme than others, but they’re all tangentially related. For example: I didn’t think my love story about dachshunds and Manhattan would’ve fit the vibe of The Predatory Animal Ball, and I truly love that story (published in Fiction Southeast).
BH: Why write flash instead of longer stories? What is the difference in the writing process for you?
JF: Every story has a finite amount of space it’s going to take up. I don’t really make the rules or do any planning ahead of time. I just have an idea and then write. It will naturally come to a close and sometimes that’s at 700 words and sometimes – though less often – it’s 3000 words. Longer stories are harder for me, much. There is more to hold in your hand with traditional short stories. If you pull out one Jenga piece, the whole thing may topple. You have so much more to balance than in flash. Flash, you’re able to hold it in your palm, turn it, and see all the angles. It can be conceptual in a way that longer fiction often can’t. It’s an interactive piece of art in a museum, where the sign says, “Feel free to touch!”
BH: Which story here was the hardest to write?
JF: Hard for me might be something different for someone else. Nothing I write is hard per se, they just naturally come to me (though revision is a whole other animal). When things I write are hard it’s because they cut close to the skin. To my skin. They draw a little more heavily from my personal experience, usually touching on themes of childhood abuse and neglect. Writing those pieces are like paper cuts, like that scene from Swimming with Sharks, where the intern has Kevin Spacey tied up and he’s just cutting him with paper over and over again.
BH: Who is the perfect reader for this book?
JF: A woman sitting on the toilet trying to get some private time from her young children. They’re at the door, but the door locks. She’s got the bathroom fan on, the shower running, and the white noise drowns out the kids’ interminable requests.
BH: Who are some flash fiction writers that inspire you?
JF: I love dark moody, broody writing. And fortunately, the flash community is just that – a community, that I discovered and connected to via social media (mostly Twitter). Since flash doesn’t always end up finding a home in books, I get my flash fix via lit journals online. So I consider many of these writers friends too, which is kind of cool. Some are exclusively flash writers, and some dabble in it as well as longer fiction. I love K.C. Mead-Brewer, Lucy Zhang, Megan Phillips, Katy McMahon, K-Ming Chang, Lori Sambol Brody, Corey Farrenkopf….so many, really. But you really get bonus points from me if you lean toward creepy doll parts and haunted houses.
BH: What is the last book you read and loved?
JF: Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu. I know a lot of people say the traditional publishing houses aren’t doing anything interesting, and I’m sorry to say that’s not entirely true. This book is brilliant.
BH: What’s your favorite Patrick Swayze movie?
JF: To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar