Cathryn Rose

What do you feel is your best piece of work?

I like to think it could be whatever I’m working on now or will work on in the future; it’s a very convenient strategy. 

What music have you been listening to lately?

Vic Chesnutt’s “Lucinda Williams,” Lucinda Williams herself, MJ Lenderman’s “SUV” and “Tastes Just Like It Cost,” The Replacements, Lisa Germano, The Roches, Liz Phair’s Girlysound demos… 

This is my first winter in New England, and whenever I realize I’ve been curled up under the covers for too long I put on “No One Else on Earth” by Wynonna Judd to try to vampire some energy off of it. It works because I’m a 38 year old aunt from Houston, Texas.

Who is the last character you related to and why?

Celine in Before Sunset, and a lot of women in Rohmer movies too, like Delphine in The Green Ray or Felicie in Tale of Winter—they think too much and talk too much to the point that it’s probably exasperating, but the movies still see them as endearing, which I appreciate. 

Also both Cher and Nicolas Cage in Moonstruck because I’m Italian and have a lot of feelings.

Have you ever failed at something you care about?

When I was first really trying to write, I kept being told that I just didn’t know how to structure a piece of fiction and that I should try poetry. The process of writing poetry felt more natural than trying to think about, I don’t know, “worldbuilding,” but I always felt like my poetry lacked something and was embarrassed by it. So then I felt like I was failing at both fiction and poetry. 

I think it helps to be around people with more generous perspectives and shift the focus to what’s possible, rather than what the rules are or what “should” be. On a similar note I’ve often felt like I was failing at love because I was/am single, but I think it helps to focus on what I do have to offer. There’s some line in a Marianne Moore review of Emily Dickinson’s letters that’s like, it’s not conceited for a hummingbird or an osprey not to behave like a chicken. 

Last gift you received?

Not too long ago I was having a rough time and my friend Gina sent me a stuffed cheetah named Melanie Griffith. 

Favourite photo?

A lot of old family photos come to mind, but otherwise, there’s a photograph taken by James Tate of a fake stuffed goat in the snow—I bought a print from the Song Cave fundraiser—and a found photo sent to me by my pen pal when I was 18 or 19. It’s a lake beach in black and white, just an unremarkable straight-ahead shot, but with the head of a cocker spaniel peeking in at the bottom of the frame. In my head it’s titled Wendy at the Beach.

Best season? 

Spring. I lived in Oregon for 17 years, and I liked how everyone suddenly started smiling and waving hello as soon as the sun came out there. 

Best outfit?

‘70s Frenchwoman / Girl Columbo. To me this would be the ideal look for any scenario. I’m kind of tall, I like to be comfortable, and I like coats and blazers. 

Do you like to write in the morning or at night? 

I have never been able to figure this out and I hope I can someday. Both? Neither? 

Where is the best place?

I like to be at home, in my house, wherever that is, and I like a nice back yard or garden. 

What’s an example of a good ending? 

The first thing I thought of was the end of Maren Ade’s movie The Forest for the Trees—it’s like a dream, because it’s direct and literal yet totally expressionistic/symbolic and not literal at all. I like endings with some slippage or porousness, or what Joy Williams calls carrying the story into the celestial, where it longs to go. Or just endings that make a weird swerve, or state things plainly, or hurt in a specific type of way I can’t articulate. I like the way Diane Williams and Amy Hempel stories end, and Amie Barrodale’s “Night Report,” Lucia Berlin’s “So Long,” Barry Hannah’s “Love Too Long,” Jane Bowles’s “Everything Is Nice.” 

Latest book you’ve read?

Recently I started re-reading Grace Paley stories in the morning and I think it makes me feel more like myself than usual. I also recently read and loved Will Arbery’s play Plano, Sawako Nakayasu’s The Ants, Rachel Cusk’s Second Place, Clarice Lispector’s Too Much of Life, Fleur Jaeggy’s S.S. Proleterka, Renee Gladman’s Juice, Annie Ernaux’s Simple Passion, and my friend Marta Balcewicz’s Big Shadow (which everyone still has time to preorder…). 

Cathryn Rose is an MFA student in fiction at Brown University. Her work most recently appeared in X-R-A-Y and Joyland. She is from Houston, Texas, and now lives in Providence, Rhode Island.