Interview with Kami Westhoff
Thoughts on form from a multi-genre writer// And NEW COURSE: Flash Fiction: Form & Fracture
Kami Westhoff is the author of the short story collection The Criteria (Unsolicited Press, 2022), and poetry chapbooks Cloudbound (Dancing Girl Press, 2021), Sleepwalker (Minerva Rising Press, 2017), and Your Body a Bullet (Unsolicited Press, 2018), co-written with Elizabeth Vignali. Her fiction, poetry, and creative nonfiction have appeared in journals including Meridian, Carve, Third Coast, Passages North, Waxwing, and West Branch. Kami has taught creative writing at Western Washington University since 2007, and has served as faculty for the Port Townsend and Chuckanut Writers' Conferences.
JPC: Hi, Kami! I’m so pleased that you’re teaching a class in flash fiction for Muse. I love your writing, and I know that you’re a dedicated teacher. Thank you for agreeing to answer some questions!
I know that you write in more than one genre. For me personally, I’ve found that I approach life material slightly differently depending on which genre I’m using, and I enjoy having a variety of tools available. For example, sometimes I want to return to and create a narrative around some life events, but casting them in fiction allows me the necessary distance to approach the subject and reframe it. When thinking about material, how do you decide which genre you’ll write in? Can you talk a little about what fiction offers you, for example, that essay doesn’t? And is your fiction often autobiographical?
KW: Hi, Joanna! Thank you so much! I’m really excited to have the opportunity to teach for Muse!
Genre choice is largely driven by the struggles and frustrations I’m experiencing. My poetry and nonfiction is almost always born from personal challenges: the fear and anxiety of waiting for important test results; supporting the mental health of my teenage daughters; the heartbreaking work of caring for loved ones suffering from terminal illnesses; etc.
My fiction is often sparked by events I or my loved ones have experienced. I often turn to fiction out of a curiosity of motivation: what would make someone behave/believe in such a way? What past trauma must they have experienced? How have the effects of that past trauma damaged the world around them? What pockets of hope can be discovered?
Fiction allows me the distance to explore more troubling material and, in many ways, explore that material with more honesty because of the presumed distance between writer and subject matter. It also facilitates the incorporation of magical realism, fantasy, and science fiction elements, which can sometimes be the only safe way to access and/or expose actual trauma.
Because of these qualities, I often think of fiction as the “truest” genre.
JPC: The topic of your course for Muse is Flash Fiction: Form & Fracture. What appeals to you about “exploding” conventions a bit? And who are some of your favorite authors who do that? Or favorite fiction writers in general?
KW: I love the way an unfamiliar form immediately alters the way a writer approaches content as well as the way a reader interprets it. Again, this goes back to my interest in motivation, and at times it’s easier to examine those questions through forms that don’t depend upon a traditional, conventional approach to narrative. One more recent piece that caught my eye is Neil Clark’s “Alfred Untold,” which uses the children’s game Guess Who to explore various aspects of past trauma and identity. Another form-fracturing piece, “Madlib” by Kim Mcgowan, presents a harrowing yet somewhat veiled scenario of abuse through the form of a popular road trip activity. This kind of work isn’t all heavy, though, and I also love much of what Mcsweeney’s publishes, including the recent piece that presents a conversation of lines and lyrics between Walt Whitman and Taylor Swift.
Fiction allows me the distance to explore more troubling material and, in many ways, explore that material with more honesty because of the presumed distance between writer and subject matter. It also facilitates the incorporation of magical realism, fantasy, and science fiction elements, which can sometimes be the only safe way to access and/or expose actual trauma.
Because of these qualities, I often think of fiction as the “truest” genre.
One of the most influential short story writers for me is Diane Cook. Her collection, Man V. Nature, blew me away when I first read it years ago and I return to it often. I’ve also found inspiration and instruction from the stories of Ramona Ausubel, Kimberly King Parsons, Leni Zumas, Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah. I just finished and loved The School for Good Mothers by Jessamyn Chan, and am now reading Leaving Atlanta by Tayari Jones.
JPC: Are there activities in your life that particularly feed your creativity? I think for me often it’s taking a walk or simply remembering to step outside and look at birds and trees.
KW: I live in Bellingham, WA, one of the most beautiful places in the country, so I spend hours and miles walking, running, and hiking. I think this has been crucial for maintaining mental health as well as serving as a constant reminder that there are always moments of peace and beauty even in all the chaos and tragedy. Reading collections of poetry is also very important in keeping me inspired. Recent favorites include Franny Choi, Saeed Jones, Ada Limon, and Ocean Vuong.
JPC: I’ve spoken with you a little about how much you value connecting with students. Can you talk about your relationship to teaching?
KW: Sometimes my husband will suggest I take summer or a quarter off from teaching, but the thought of that really leaves me hollow. Spending time with students who are passionate about writing, which for many includes healing, is an honor and delight. I love working with students to help the techniques of craft present their stories, in all the various forms and genres, in ways that create an unforgettable and enriching experience for both writer and reader.
Most importantly, it’s such a blessing to support and encourage writing that frees the writer from pain, regret, shame, anger, etc., and explores the power of both accountability and forgiveness.
This interview opened some doors for me that allowed me to see different ways in which writing serves and heals. I found this article to be enlightening.