[{"id":540,"date":"2026-10-19T15:14:49","date_gmt":"2026-10-19T15:14:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/?p=540"},"modified":"2026-10-19T15:14:50","modified_gmt":"2026-10-19T15:14:50","slug":"swallowing-goldfish-a-conversation-with-dan-leach","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/2026\/10\/19\/swallowing-goldfish-a-conversation-with-dan-leach\/","title":{"rendered":"Swallowing Goldfish: A Conversation with Dan Leach"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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The following is an interview b\/w authors Wesley Kapp and Dan Leach on the subject of Dan\u2019s book Junah at the End of the World<\/em>, (Hub City Press) which was published in the summer of 2024. Wesley and Dan are former SCR staffers, from 2019-20. Wesley went on to complete an MFA at the University of Montana; Dan completed his MFA at College of Charleston and is now a professor at Charleston Southern.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Dan Leach and I first met at Clemson University in 2018 while we both pursued a masters in English. The program had a handful of fiction writers at the time, and many of us ended up working with the South Carolina Review<\/em>, including the two of us. As I got to know Dan, I quickly realized that, though he was humble, he was far beyond me in skill and generally in his career as a writer. What stood out to me the most, and has continued to stand out to me, is that he is the type of writer, and person, who will always extend a hand to those following along in that same lonely journey of being a writer. He\u2019s realized that writing, though often a solo act, is better when you\u2019re surrounded by community.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After observing Dan, I knew what I wanted in my own writing community as he and I veered off in different directions after completing the program at Clemson. I soon launched into studying fiction in Montana, and Dan launched into writing Junah at the End of the World<\/em>, the focus of this interview.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This interview took place over the span of several weeks (months?) in the fall of 2025 and consisted of two email exchanges. This summer marks the one-year publication anniversary of Junah at the End of the World<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Wesley Kapp: First, congratulations on the release of Junah at the End of the World<\/em>! Can you share a little about the book?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dan Leach<\/strong>: Thanks for saying that, and thanks for talking with me. Since we both left Clemson back in 2020, I\u2019ve missed seeing you, and (frankly) I\u2019m jealous of all the cool places you\u2019ve been and all the great jobs you\u2019ve worked. I love that this book is an occasion for us to reconnect. About the book: unlike my other stuff, this project emerged out of a very specific set of circumstances, ones which initially seemed anything but generative. I started writing Junah at the End of the World<\/em> about half a year into the COVID pandemic. As I\u2019m sure you recall, things back then were looking pretty bleak. I had just finished my MFA at Warren Wilson and had moved across the state to start a teaching position at Charleston Southern. I was there, ostensibly, to start this new chapter in my life; but nothing felt new. In fact, everything felt vaguely apocalyptic. Most folks (students and faculty) had shifted online. The campus was a ghost town. Those who showed up were in masks and jumped back if you accidentally broke that six-foot radius. Socially, life felt nervy and disconnected; and, professionally, I was given a one-year contract and told that, in all likelihood, my position wouldn\u2019t exist next year. To add insult to injury, we were living in this bland suburban monstrosity\u2014one I believe you know from your stint in K-12\u2014and there really wasn\u2019t much to do that year except find some kind of work to occupy you. That work became this novel, and I tried to use being a kid during Y2K as an occasion to process being an adult during COVID. The similarities seemed uncanny to me: the conflicting political narratives, the weird religious aspects, and (most importantly) the idea that the world could be coming to an end. As with most of my stuff, I came at the subject indirectly (\u201cthrough the side door\u201d as Ed Skoog would say) and tried to make it a commentary on COVID but also a standalone coming-of-age story. This book kept me sane during that time, you know? The world was falling apart, but I was out there in Cane Bay, swinging back at the apocalypse one fragment at a time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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WK<\/strong>: This book seems to dwell in an in-between place\u2014you introduce a potential binary, explore both sides, and then turn it on its head and introduce a third gray space, almost like the middle of a Venn diagram. Examples that come to my mind are Rusty\u2019s character and (possible) demise; Junah refusing to make a choice of faith but also refusing to reject it; the humor, despair, sadness, and joy, and how we continually find ourselves in the middle of it all. Did you realize\/set out to explore these middle spaces? Why do you think you dwell so much in these places?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DL<\/strong>: I love your notion of the \u201cin-between\u201d and of \u201cmiddle spaces.\u201d Junah calls it \u201cthe subjunctive mood,\u201d and he describes it as being intoxicated by the fact that anything or nothing could happen. There\u2019s the subjunctive nature of his lived life\u2014the fact that his parents might (or might not) get back together; the fact that Sadie might (or might not) return his affection; the fact that the world might (or might not) end in December\u2014but I love that you mentioned the subjunctive aspect to his time capsule. That is, Junah\u2019s realization that he can make space for ambiguity, especially where tragedy is concerned. Rusty dies in reality, but what if he lives on in the time capsule? Meechum is fired in reality, but what if she\u2019s still teaching in the shoebox? So on, so forth. This power to create \u201cmiddle spaces\u201d is, I think, Junah\u2019s best talent as a storyteller. He\u2019s willfully ambiguous and hopeful about what readers bring to the text. Also, I would be remiss if I didn\u2019t mention The Moviegoer<\/em> by Walker Percy, which was a dominant influence. I think I owe Junah\u2019s \u201cmiddleness\u201d to Binx Bolling, the also-deeply-ambiguous first-person narrator of Percy\u2019s novel. In fact, the final line of Junah at the End of the World<\/em> is meant to (subtly) convey a philosophical solidarity with the final line of Percy\u2019s novel. They are both, in their own way, a speaker whose judgments we\u2019ve come to trust saying, \u201cI don\u2019t know, and I can\u2019t say,\u201d which is an existential humility that can be traced back to Kierkegaard, right?\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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WK:<\/strong> The character development often relied on short and succinct descriptions and short episodic stories, though brief, these instances provide memorable development for major and minor characters. I\u2019m curious about how these moments and descriptions came to you. Did they flow immediately or did you have to spend a lot of time dwelling on these characters\/scenes?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DL:<\/strong> Regarding the fragments: I blame my children. At the time of writing this, we had four kids, all under the age of 10. Oh, and we homeschool, which means our house can be a bit chaotic. My wife and I split the duties. Why mention this in connection with \u201cshort episodic stories\u201d? Because short and episodic was all I could swing during that stretch of life. Once I had Junah\u2019s voice (and that did come to me almost immediately), I would just stumble through our wild days and wait for something\u2014sometimes a scene, sometimes just an aphorism or a line of dialogue\u2014to come to me in Junah\u2019s register. A lot of the fragments that made it into the book were written at red lights or during lunch breaks or on a voice recorder while taking the kids to a park. Although I was characteristically obsessive in the later stages of revision, the actual writing of this project took place in the \u201cin between\u201d spaces. Fittingly so, I guess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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WK<\/strong>: There were many moments when I laughed out loud while reading this book, and one of those moments was when the youth pastor\u2019s band name, \u201cThe Sound of Our Hooves Carries News of Your Demise,\u201d was introduced. I have to ask: was this a band you encountered in real life or are you just that good at coming up with 90s Christian metal band names?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DL:<\/strong> This one\u2019s autobiographical. When I was a freshman at College of Charleston, I lived with several other full-time students in this veritable flop house way down on the bad end of Bogard Street. And we had this fifth roommate who wasn\u2019t a student and who just kind of crashed on the couch. There\u2019s always one wildcard in every living situation, isn\u2019t there? A guy whose spot on the roster doesn\u2019t really make sense? Anyway, our wildcard was a guy named was Scooter, and he was a server at Applebee\u2019s who also played lead guitar in a variety of local thrash metal bands. His bands never lasted for more than a few months, but they would always have these wild and longish names that felt like poems in themselves. I think he jacked more than one band name from a Tolkien info dump or a verse out of The Old Testament. Anyway, I\u2019m pretty close to certain that one of these bands was named \u201cThe Sound of Our Hooves Carries New of Your Demise.\u201d At one point in time, I had a t-shirt with this band\u2019s name on it, but that artifact\u2019s obviously long gone. Funny enough, when I was writing the novel, I tried to find Scooter on social media. I had heard he had moved west and ended up as a yoga instructor in Arizona or something. I never did find him, but if he ever reads this book, maybe he can leak some demos on Bandcamp and give \u201cThe Sound of Our Hooves Carries News of Your Demise\u201d a second life.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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WK:<\/strong> Another moment of humor (and mystery) that really stuck with me was the goldfish. I don\u2019t want to give away any spoilers for those who haven\u2019t read the book yet, but the goldfish was a very Murakami\/sheep man moment for me, in the sense that it\u2019s very strange and the book doesn\u2019t feel the need to dwell on it. Junah seems to completely forget about that moment, almost in the midst of it, but the reader (or at least this particular reader) spent a lot of time dwelling on it. The question I really want to ask is, what does it mean??? But I feel that a better question might be: what do you want to say about this moment?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DL:<\/strong> The goldfish moment is (for me) easily top three in the novel, and I\u2019m honored by the Murakami comparison. Here\u2019s what I was thinking for that scene (and I hope it doesn\u2019t disappoint in its pragmatism). But after establishing the time capsule mechanism in the first ten pages, Junah then spends about half the book waiting to hear back from his crush. Having sent her a note, he\u2019s now holding his breath, and (in terms of pure storytelling) there\u2019s more suspense generated in this uncertainty than in the larger uncertainty regarding Y2K and possible apocalypse. So he waits. And he waits. And he waits. There\u2019s a plot twist that I won\u2019t mention here, but the situation crescendos on Halloween night. Junah\u2019s dressed up as Fat Elvis, and he\u2019s trying to make the best of what could be his last Halloween when, out of nowhere, his crush shows up and invites him on a date. It\u2019s a sweet, cinematic moment and one of the few definitive victories that Junah scores in the book, but I wanted it to catch him (and the reader) completely off guard. The Elvis costume was okay in terms of Junah being discovered in a state of vulnerability and unreadiness, but I wanted something more. I wanted Junah to get caught at the absolute weirdest possible moment. Hence: the goldfish. Also, on a secondary level, I just loved how boyish that whole situation seemed. It was absolutely something I would\u2019ve done with my friends on a night when you\u2019re just showing off and killing time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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WK:<\/strong> \u201cWhy is the eye the only instrument that demands a double miracle? Anyone who tells you they know the answer to this question is liar. Anyone who tells you there is no answer is a fool\u201d (134). The theme of eyes in this quote, along with Junah\u2019s attempt to look at the world and collect the meaningful stories for the time capsule, and finally, with Junah\u2019s fear of being seen\u2014seem to point back to seeing that middle\/gray area we discussed in the second question. How do you think this plays out in the work of the writer?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DL:<\/strong> Orwell called prose a windowpane. That was from \u201cWhy I Write,\u201d which I still occasionally teach to my comp classes. It\u2019s not bad as a metaphor because it illustrates what David Shields says in Reality Hunger<\/em> when he talks about how a book can make you feel \u201chuman and unalone.\u201d We know this feeling as readers, and it\u2019s probably one of the earliest experiences that makes us want to write our own stuff. I remember feeling it as an undergraduate at Clemson when reading A Fan\u2019s Notes<\/em> by Fred Exley. I felt \u201cseen\u201d by that book, in particular its honesty about failure and loneliness. But what you\u2019re asking here (if I understand you correctly) is the inverse proposition, right? That writers, too, must risk being \u201cseen\u201d (and possibly judged) if they really get their mind onto the page? Junah most certainly senses this. In reality, he hides behind sunglasses and feels generally creeped out by most forms of eye contact. He hides in The Pipe and pursues obscurity. In the time capsule, though, he\u2019s doing the opposite. He\u2019s saying, \u201cHere\u2019s the world, and I\u2019m in it! There I am! Look at me!\u201d That felt appropriate for me, mainly because I manage this contradiction in my own life. Despite working in a profession that requires public speaking, I actually hate to be looked at and listened to. I\u2019m told this is social anxiety, but I\u2019ve never been tested, and I\u2019ve spent my life rigging up coping mechanisms. In my writing, however, I\u2019m doing work that\u2019s increasingly vulnerable\/autobiographical, and I\u2019m saying (as we all say when we seek out publication), \u201cHere\u2019s the world, and I\u2019m in it! There I am! Look at me!\u201d The more I do this (writing, I mean), the more I sense that these two contradictory urges benefit from each other. That is, the more I dislike\/avoid being seen in reality, the stronger my desire is to write something honest and be seen on the page. Not a bad chemistry (if you can manage it).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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WK:<\/strong> I\u2019d like to acknowledge how out of control the time capsules get by the end of the book. They\u2019re buried everywhere, but there is one, this book, that is shared with us. I like the idea of all of these stories being buried everywhere for others to stumble across one day, or perhaps not. As writers, how do you think we should choose the stories that we tell? And, in a publishing world that often seems dependent upon luck and timing as much as skill, what do you do with those stories that get buried?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DL:<\/strong> What a thoughtful connection. To your first question, the one about choosing the stories we tell, I\u2019d say this: find someone specific to aim your stuff at. \u201cLiterary readers\u201d won\u2019t do. Too broad. A certain press or a certain genre won\u2019t do. Too indistinct (not to mention fickle). Even writing \u201cfor yourself\u201d introduces certain problems (at least it does for me). We don\u2019t have to write in direct address, but I do think we need to aim our sentences at someone with a specific set of sensibilities. Junah<\/em>, for instance, was aimed at my kids. I conceived of them as \u201csurvivors\u201d of the apocalypse, and I approached the project as a way of telling them what my childhood was like. About a million times in drafting that story, I envisioned them \u201cdigging up\u201d the time capsule and marveling at how weird life was back in their dad\u2019s time. The book I wrote after Junah<\/em> is called Married Sex<\/em>, and it\u2019s aimed at my wife, appropriately so since it\u2019s a catalogue of all the crazy times we\u2019ve had in our sixteen years together. Even the poems I write benefit from holding a specific reader in mind. Lately I\u2019ve been writing them to my boss at the college where I teach. I call her Sarge, and she\u2019s a red-haired Presbyterian with the ear of a poet and the heart of a first-century saint. I\u2019ve got a poem coming out in the next issue of West Branch<\/em> called \u201cBig Red,\u201d and it\u2019s one-hundred percent for her. Your second question\u2014the one about stories that \u201cget buried\u201d\u2014I don\u2019t know how to answer that. As you indicated, publishing is such a crapshoot. \u201cLuck\u201d and \u201ctiming\u201d determine success as much as \u201ctalent\u201d or \u201cgrit.\u201d No one wants to admit this, but it\u2019s true. I guess I\u2019d have to get categorical to address this in a useful way. That is, if the work is bad, it probably needs to stay buried. If the work is good (but \u201cluck\u201d and \u201ctiming\u201d weren\u2019t on your side), it\u2019s a shame that it\u2019ll stay buried, but at least you know you\u2019ve made real art, and you\u2019re not a pretender. That\u2019s a pretty shitty consolation prize, but it might be all you have to make sense of that kind of burial. But, finally, there\u2019s a third category, isn\u2019t there? The one for the good book that got buried\u2014but only for a while, and only to resurrect at some strange and later future time in order to do the work it was meant to do. The odds are (obviously) against this, but I don\u2019t know any real writers who live by the odds. We run on faith, or we don\u2019t run at all.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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WK:<\/strong> What else did you learn about writing and yourself from this book?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DL:<\/strong> I learned that I couldn\u2019t write a traditional novel. The linear plot, the developed characters, the tidy sense of resolution\u2014I never liked that stuff as a reader, and when I tried to force it on what I hoped would be my first \u201cbig book,\u201d I ended up depressed and uninspired and (frankly) ready to quit the project altogether. It sounds like a silly epiphany to have fifteen years into your career, but I think writing this book taught me to write the kind of thing that I love (which, in this case, is a voicy little anti-novel that reads, at its best, like a mixtape).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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WK:<\/strong>\u00a0What\u2019s next?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DL:<\/strong> Poems. Short ones, too. I started one this morning about some mushrooms that sprouted up in my yard overnight. Its first two stanzas read thusly:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Huddle of glum monks<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

praying in the tall grass<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

under the sugar maple.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Twelve speckled eggs<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

abandoned in the night<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

by a blind flightless bird.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Poetry collections don\u2019t really sell anymore, but neither do anti-novels built out of lyrical fragments and middle-spaces. Here\u2019s to obscurity, I guess. Here\u2019s to being slightly more famous (though hopefully longer lasting) than \u201cThe Sound of Our Hooves Carries New of Your Demise.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Dan Leach<\/strong> has published poems in The Massachusetts Review<\/em>, The Southern Review<\/em>, and The Sun<\/em>. He is the 2023 recipient of the Texas Review Press\u2019s Southern Poetry Breakthrough Award, and his collection Stray Latitudes<\/em> was released in 2024. Junah at the end of the World<\/em>, his debut novel, won the South Carolina Novel Prize and was released by Hub City in June 2025. He lives in the lowcountry of South Carolina and teaches poetry at Charleston Southern University.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wesley Kapp<\/strong> is a writer and editor currently residing in the Appalachian Mountains of North Carolina. She primarily writes fantasy and speculative fiction, and any short story she writes is really the beginning of a novel. Wesley holds an MFA in Creative Writing Fiction from the University of Montana.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The following is an interview b\/w authors Wesley Kapp and Dan Leach on the subject of Dan\u2019s book Junah at the End of the World, (Hub City Press) which was published in the summer of 2024. Wesley and Dan are former SCR staffers, from 2019-20. Wesley went on to complete an MFA at the University […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4181,"featured_media":542,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[411],"tags":[],"coauthors":[36163],"class_list":["post-540","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news"],"fimg_url":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/files\/2026\/10\/304b3aa4-d60b-4246-8147-f01cb9f1e055-150x150.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/540","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4181"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=540"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/540\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":545,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/540\/revisions\/545"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/542"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=540"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=540"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=540"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=540"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":529,"date":"2026-08-05T15:43:07","date_gmt":"2026-08-05T15:43:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/?p=529"},"modified":"2026-08-05T15:46:22","modified_gmt":"2026-08-05T15:46:22","slug":"ulmer-releases-the-highway-that-leads-beyond-the-world","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/2026\/08\/05\/ulmer-releases-the-highway-that-leads-beyond-the-world\/","title":{"rendered":"Ulmer releases The Highway That Leads Beyond the World"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

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South Carolina Review author James Ulmer\u2019s new book of ghost stories,\u00a0The Highway That Leads Beyond the World,\u00a0<\/em>was published in June by Bridge House Publications<\/a>, a British press specializing in dark literary fiction and mystery.\u00a0The lead-off story in the collection, “The Far Hill,” first appeared in\u00a0The South Carolina Review in the Spring 2020 issue.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ulmer\u2019s previous collection, The Fire Doll<\/em>, was awarded the George Garrett Fiction Prize from Texas Review Press. Recent stories have appeared in The South Carolina Review, The Saturday Evening Post, Arkansas Review, Descant, and elsewhere. Ulmer is Professor of English at Southern Arkansas University.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The house in the cover photo, the Maud Crawford House in Camden, Arkansas, is the scene of an unexplained disappearance well known in Arkansas lore and is the setting of the story “Dietrich’s Witness\u201d in The Highway That Leads Beyond the World.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Get The Highway That Leads Beyond the World<\/em>.<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

South Carolina Review author James Ulmer\u2019s new book of ghost stories,\u00a0The Highway That Leads Beyond the World,\u00a0was published in June by Bridge House Publications, a British press specializing in dark literary fiction and mystery.\u00a0The lead-off story in the collection, “The Far Hill,” first appeared in\u00a0The South Carolina Review in the Spring 2020 issue.\u00a0 Ulmer\u2019s previous […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4181,"featured_media":532,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[411],"tags":[],"coauthors":[36163],"class_list":["post-529","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news"],"fimg_url":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/files\/2026\/08\/Untitled-August-05-2026-at-11.33.20-1-150x150.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/529","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4181"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=529"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/529\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/532"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=529"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=529"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=529"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=529"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":515,"date":"2026-06-16T14:39:06","date_gmt":"2026-06-16T14:39:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/?p=515"},"modified":"2026-06-16T14:44:13","modified_gmt":"2026-06-16T14:44:13","slug":"scr-volume-58-2-spring-2026","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/2026\/06\/16\/scr-volume-58-2-spring-2026\/","title":{"rendered":"SCR Volume 58.2 Spring 2026"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

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PURCHASE ISSUE<\/strong><\/a><\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
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CONTENTS<\/h1>\n\n\n\n
<\/div>\n\n\n\n

POETRY<\/em><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

JANE ZWART Valentines<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

JOHN A. NIEVES Breachway<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HA KIET CHAU 215 Missed Calls<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

SHANA ROSS Virginia Woolf said the wordless women are the happiest<\/p>\n\n\n\n

MCKINLEY JOHNSON Diptych after Friendship<\/em> by Agnes Martin<\/p>\n\n\n\n

URSUS SARTORIS Graffiti to Tear Down the Wall – SCR Series in Latin American Translation<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

HOMA MOJADIDI Broken Ghazal; Neighbor<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DOUG RAMSPECK Crow Eulogy; Love in the Apiary<\/p>\n\n\n\n

RACHEL PITTMAN Eve After Exile<\/p>\n\n\n\n

WILL SUMMAY On Translation<\/p>\n\n\n\n

HARRY GORDON “Shooting leaves…”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

WILLIAM JAMES keystone & thread; i have to go back to winter 1987<\/p>\n\n\n\n

KEN HOLLAND Terminal Velocity<\/p>\n\n\n\n

ADELAIDE SENDLENSKI Self-Portrait at Prospect Lake <\/p>\n\n\n\n

BRIANNA RAU family reunion<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CHELSEA ZHU Lowcountry Haibun<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

DAWN ANGELICCA BARCELONA After the Novena<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DAN LEACH To the Previous Owner of this House, Whose Mail I Have Been Reading Since Last Fall<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

DANIEL LURIE On the Eve of My Birthday, I Split Wood Alone in the Shop and Consider Endings<\/p>\n\n\n\n

MARJORIE MADDOX Again, Chicken Little Screams,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

COLEY GIBSON Misattribution<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CANDICE M. KELSEY IEP<\/p>\n\n\n\n

MATTHEW J. SPIRENG The Book<\/p>\n\n\n\n

SARAH GANE BURTON What an Archaeologist Knows About Dirt<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DEBMALYA BANDYOPADHYAY First Discovery<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

FICTION<\/em><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

ROBERT LONG FOREMAN Slipper<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

SHAH TAZRIAN ASHRAFI Monument<\/p>\n\n\n\n

EMILY ALICE KATZ Molly and Mimi in the Southland<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DANA BELL Bear<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

JARED HANSON Porch Light<\/p>\n\n\n\n

IRVIN HUNT Mr. Super<\/p>\n\n\n\n

STEVEN FROMM Paging Dr. Santos<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CHOLE HOLLOWELL HOOKS Corkscrewed<\/p>\n\n\n\n

FRANZ J\u00d8RGEN NEUMANN Heat Dome<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

KATE LISTER CAMPBELL The Run<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

CREATIVE NON-FICTION<\/em><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

LUCY MCBEE Afterwardsness<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

BOOK REVIEWS<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

MAGGIE MITCHELL Dancing for Her Life: A Review of Lauren Morrow’s Little Movements<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

JOHN RICHARD SAYLOR Lives on the Edge: A Review of Doug Ramspeck’s Dancing in Their Dead Mother’s Dresses<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

CONTENTS POETRY JANE ZWART Valentines JOHN A. NIEVES Breachway HA KIET CHAU 215 Missed Calls SHANA ROSS Virginia Woolf said the wordless women are the happiest MCKINLEY JOHNSON Diptych after Friendship by Agnes Martin URSUS SARTORIS Graffiti to Tear Down the Wall – SCR Series in Latin American Translation HOMA MOJADIDI Broken Ghazal; Neighbor DOUG […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4181,"featured_media":516,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[36158],"tags":[],"coauthors":[36163],"class_list":["post-515","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-recent-issues"],"fimg_url":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/files\/2026\/06\/Untitled-May-02-2026-at-12.24.43-150x150.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/515","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4181"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=515"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/515\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/516"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=515"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=515"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=515"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=515"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":512,"date":"2026-05-13T13:35:52","date_gmt":"2026-05-13T13:35:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/?p=512"},"modified":"2026-05-13T13:36:26","modified_gmt":"2026-05-13T13:36:26","slug":"interview-with-will-cathcart-author-of-this-is-how-people-die","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/2026\/05\/13\/interview-with-will-cathcart-author-of-this-is-how-people-die\/","title":{"rendered":"Interview with Will Cathcart, author of “This is How People Die”"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
<\/div>\n\n\n\n

SCR Associate Editor Will Cathcart graduated from Clemson University with an English major in 2005 and then quickly moved into the world of journalism, becoming one of the first American journalists to interview the president of the Republic of Georgia following Russia\u2019s invasion of the country in 2008. Will stayed on in Georgia as media advisor to President Mikheil Saakashvili, at the same time contributing news and feature stories to such news outlets as CNN and The Daily Beast. He contributed reporting from Ukraine following the Russian invasion in 2022. Born with cystic fibrosis, Will has also written about the healthcare system and the availability of life-saving prescription drugs. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

All of these experiences, plus a lot more (such as the theft of Frederic Chopin\u2019s heart) have worked their way into his first novel, <\/em>This is How People Die, now available from Evening Post Books. SCR Assistant Editor Rylee Cowan interviewed him via email about his entrance into the world of fiction and other topics.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

Rylee Cowan: As someone with a journalism background, how do you navigate the line between factual responsibility and creative freedom when writing a novel?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Will Cathcart:<\/strong> No matter what I\u2019m reporting on, the best way to get readers to engage is to tell a story. As a journalist, I hope to tell the story, and those kind of deep dives are what I have always found most compelling. The best stories are the kind where I go in thinking it\u2019s going to be one thing, and the world gets turned upside down and reverses all my preconceptions. What is most important is following the facts wherever they lead you, whether your editor or readers will like it or not. The story is there, and you have to find it and then dig deeper. Sometimes, when you get close enough, the story finds you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Though journalists are not meant to become part of the story, when reporting on a conflict, often the best way to tell that story is from your own point of view. To pull this off, you have to understand the situation and the facts, seeing the thing from all angles. Even then, you are taking a risk by telling your experience of it. And yet, this is often the most powerful way to tell a story if your readers trust you and if you respect their intelligence. The reason this kind of storytelling has always interested me is because I was a writer long before I became a journalist. I think journalism needs all types: investigators, scientists, lawyers, financial specialists, programmers, data analysts, and so forth. I\u2019m a writer. While a lot of things can be learned, the writing is obviously fundamental to journalism, and that goes for most mediums.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So for me, the transition to fiction has been natural. Instead of following the story, you begin with that story, or at least an idea or something you have no choice but to say. I\u2019m also fascinated by creative nonfiction which subverts that binary when the story is told so well it transcends nonfiction while remaining true. I\u2019m thinking of Benjam\u00edn Labatut\u2019s When We Cease to Understand the World<\/em>. Candice Millard\u2019s work comes to mind. Also, Merlin Sheldrake\u2019s absolutely brilliant book on fungi, Entangled Life<\/em>, and The Book of Eels<\/em> by Patrik Svensson, both of which read more like poetry than scientific literature. And then there\u2019s Karl Ove Knausg\u00e5rd, though he is his own can of worms. To go back to your original question, I guess the best journalism tells a story that defies belief and the best fiction is a story that is true, though the facts aren\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

RC: You chose to publish through an independent press in Charleston\u2014what does that allow you to do with your story that a larger publisher might not?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

WC<\/strong>: I was very lucky to find Evening Post Books when I did. They had hired some really bright people who are more interested in fiction and stories that might come from the region but speak to everyone. Honestly, I can\u2019t believe they allowed me to publish certain sections of This Is How People Die<\/em>. Because they understood what I was doing and were willing to take a risk on this book, I wasn\u2019t forced to compromise my vision. I don\u2019t think that would have happened with a larger publisher for a number of reasons, but mainly a lack of appetite for risk, especially in a debut novel. An indie press in a place like Charleston with a very dark history\u2014and modern Charleston is a reaction to that history\u2014offers a unique “literary home” for stories that are deeply rooted in place but global in their themes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not only does the novel feature George Sand delivering 19th-century narration, the book is full of sex, drugs, and Chopin. Entire sections are devoted to Bob Flanagan, a subversive sadomasochism performance artist who explored living with cystic fibrosis and became well known in LA in the 1980s and 1990s. Bob and his partner, the artist Sheree Rose, put his own self mutilation and various flavors of BDSM on display. The Nine Inch Nails video for the song “Happiness in Slavery” is just Bob strapped nude to a table being mutilated by a machine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And yet, none of his work was for shock value. Bob was born in 1952 with CF. Both of his sisters died from it. Somehow he lived to the age of 43, which was almost impossible for the time. His body put him through hell and he saw sadomasochism as a way of fighting back and subverting his own pain. Because of this, he lived decades longer than he should have. It wasn\u2019t just about pain; it was his art that kept him going as a way to reclaim agency, perhaps even over his own death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was born in 1982, and growing up with CF, there were no role models with the disease. No one had survived it and done anything except for Bob. He was part of the story I wanted to tell, and the characters I wanted to show who attempt to claw back their agency by stealing Chopin\u2019s heart and defying not just the modern world, but centuries of horrible men who attempted to appropriate Chopin\u2019s music by stealing his heart. Evening Post Books let me tell that story. And I still can\u2019t believe they let me do it. But don\u2019t tell them that. I think of that Nick Lowe song that Wilco covered, \u201cI Love My Label.\u201d Well, I love my publisher.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

RC: While working in Georgia, what surprised you most about how communication functions between government, media, and public perception?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

WC<\/strong>: Honestly, the whole system is a disaster. For me, Georgia has always been a highly focused microcosm of where the US might end up politically. Russia has been invading this land since long before Georgia existed. Russia\u2019s entire national identity was forged by invasions of smaller territories and then countries. Georgia has defined itself by resisting not just those Russian invasions, but Ottoman, Persian, and so forth. The Georgian people are fiercely independent. The Georgian government is not. It wasn\u2019t always this way, but in the last decade, an oligarch with pro-Kremlin sympathies and Russian financial holdings came into power on a wave of populism and has been dismantling the courts, the culture, the history taught in schools, the rule of law, freedom of the press, and, as of 2024, free and fair elections. Sound familiar?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I first came to Georgia in 2008 with a theory that Russia would invade. A lot of very intelligent people were telling me it was going to happen, but the world would not listen. Three weeks later Russia invaded Georgia. A year or so later I moved here, and this country has been a lens into trends in the region, into how Vladimir Putin\u2019s Kremlin operates, and, unfortunately, into how democracy is disassembled. What surprised me is how quickly and comprehensively those in power can hijack a narrative, take over TV channels, and wage war on the press without consequences, even while more than half of the country still thinks it is living in a democracy and wants to be part of both the EU and NATO.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Democracy is a fragile thing and I fear we in the US took it for granted for far too long by voting for perceived financial benefit over the strengthening of institutions. That doesn\u2019t end well. A lot of my Georgian friends in the opposition are now in prison simply for demonstrating against the ruling party and its far right populist agenda. Their political party is now illegal. The recent Hungarian election that booted out Viktor Orb\u00e1n gives me some hope, but Hungary is a European country with EU guard rails. Georgia is not. And the United States is not. Here in Georgia, all of this began with demonizing the press.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

RC: Was there a specific experience in Georgia that changed how you think about diplomacy or institutional trust? Does this impact your narrative view in any way?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

WC<\/strong>: The Russian invasion of Georgia in 2008 changed my life. I was thrust into the midst of Russia\u2019s evolving geopolitical statecraft that led to the 2013 Euromaidan protests in Kyiv and culminated with the re-invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Now, Putin\u2019s Russia may end on a Ukrainian battlefield. But what changed everything was the choice of the Ukrainian people to fight back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The US didn\u2019t provide enough support for them to win, and, ironically, Ukraine became stronger for it. Soon they won\u2019t need certain prominent republicans who are blaming Ukraine for Russia\u2019s invasion. The future of Europe will be made or broken on a Ukrainian battlefield in the coming months. If Ukraine prevails, it could lead to democracy here in Georgia, strengthen Europe, and possibly prevent a much larger conflict. If Russia prevails, which now seems unlikely, it will be the beginning of a very dark period at a time when the US is turning its back on European allies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

RC: How has living with CF shaped the way you think? Was there a moment during treatment or recovery where you felt your understanding of your own body fundamentally shift?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

WC<\/strong>: Like the protagonists of my novel, I was diagnosed with the genetic condition cystic fibrosis at a very young age. I wasn\u2019t supposed to live past 10 years old. I got lucky and made it to my late 20s. I had a very carpe diem approach to life and, as a result, I recklessly covered armed conflicts and took absurd risks. Just when the disease was catching up with me, a miracle drug with a price from hell ($360k a year) developed by Vertex Pharmaceuticals changed everything. In a matter of days, I went from dying to coming back alive. My symptoms began to reverse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I suddenly came to terms with the fact that I have a life ahead of me, and that fellow CF patients I had known and loved, children who deserved to be alive, would be left behind. Meanwhile, I, who had never been too hung up on survival and hence felt at home in war zones, didn\u2019t deserve to be here. And yet here I was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I suppose this survivor’s guilt made the novel and its characters haunt me. The book would have been much easier not to write. But that’s not how it works. Instead, I set out to write the book that I would have wanted to read when my health was at its worst and when gritty, dark literature kept me going. There were so many moments when I thought this book would not happen, and there\u2019s nothing new there. But I either needed to end this book, or it was going to end me. A lot of stuff happened while I was writing it. I covered wars and became a father, but the novel was always there demanding to be told. This Is How People Die<\/em> is me telling it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

SCR Associate Editor Will Cathcart graduated from Clemson University with an English major in 2005 and then quickly moved into the world of journalism, becoming one of the first American journalists to interview the president of the Republic of Georgia following Russia\u2019s invasion of the country in 2008. Will stayed on in Georgia as media […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4181,"featured_media":505,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[411],"tags":[],"coauthors":[36163],"class_list":["post-512","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news"],"fimg_url":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/files\/2026\/04\/Untitled-3-12-150x150.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/512","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4181"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=512"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/512\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/505"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=512"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=512"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=512"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=512"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":508,"date":"2026-05-04T12:54:07","date_gmt":"2026-05-04T12:54:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/?p=508"},"modified":"2026-05-04T12:55:36","modified_gmt":"2026-05-04T12:55:36","slug":"scr-58-2-cover-artist-creates-beautiful-and-pensive-cover-inspired-by-j-c-leyendecker","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/2026\/05\/04\/scr-58-2-cover-artist-creates-beautiful-and-pensive-cover-inspired-by-j-c-leyendecker\/","title":{"rendered":"SCR 58.2 Cover Artist Creates Beautiful and Pensive Cover Inspired by J. C. Leyendecker"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

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We were thrilled to show you SCR 58.2\u2019s cover art \u201cMorning Coffee\u201d by Megan Ingerslew, which was created to evoke the nostalgia of American illustration and paintings from the 1950s with an unconventional subject.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe piece drew heavily on J. C. Leyendecker, a prolific commercial artist whose work became the pinnacle of early-1900s advertising and illustration,\u201d says Megan. \u201cHis signature style includes textured applications of oil paint, limited color palettes, and dynamic compositions, all of which were emulated in Morning Coffee<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Using thick paint strokes for the wings and background to create the illusion of feathers establish strong visual lines that guide the eye down the length of the painting while the limited color palette contrasts against the bright orange of the swan’s beak, emphasizing the swan’s face as the primary focal point. The colors used creates an inviting atmosphere, invoking the warmth of a fresh cup of coffee and the quiet solitude of a peaceful morning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMorning Coffee\u201dwas painted to create something beautiful and pensive, exploring the use of texture and color to invoke a pleasant mood.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Megan Ingerslew is currently a junior at Clemson pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in Art and Mathematical Sciences where she enjoys using a variety of media in her practice, such as oil paint, watercolor, graphite and digital illustration and animation. Megan\u2019s work is typically character-driven, exploring the stories or lives of the subjects she depicts, with a heavy emphasis on quieter moments usually overlooked.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

We were thrilled to show you SCR 58.2\u2019s cover art \u201cMorning Coffee\u201d by Megan Ingerslew, which was created to evoke the nostalgia of American illustration and paintings from the 1950s with an unconventional subject. \u201cThe piece drew heavily on J. C. Leyendecker, a prolific commercial artist whose work became the pinnacle of early-1900s advertising and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4181,"featured_media":510,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[411],"tags":[36171],"coauthors":[36163],"class_list":["post-508","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news","tag-cover-art"],"fimg_url":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/files\/2026\/05\/280f5fcc-05be-45f1-98fa-265831a231cd-150x150.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/508","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4181"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=508"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/508\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/510"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=508"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=508"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=508"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=508"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":503,"date":"2026-04-23T15:22:59","date_gmt":"2026-04-23T15:22:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/?p=503"},"modified":"2026-04-23T15:23:22","modified_gmt":"2026-04-23T15:23:22","slug":"associate-editor-cathcart-publishes-debut-novel","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/2026\/04\/23\/associate-editor-cathcart-publishes-debut-novel\/","title":{"rendered":"Associate Editor Cathcart publishes debut novel"},"content":{"rendered":"

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<\/div>\n\n\n\n

South Carolina Review Associate Editor Will Cathcart\u2019s debut, genre-defying novel This Is How People Die<\/em> will be published by Evening Post Books on Tuesday, April 28.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A Charleston native and international journalist, Will Cathcart sets This Is How People Die<\/em> between a modern sanitarium in downtown Charleston and the shadowed edges of Europe and the Republic of Georgia. The novel follows Scoot and Hannah\u2014cystic fibrosis patients who have outlived their expiration dates and every expectation that comes with being alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Will Cathcart will celebrate the publication of This Is How People Die<\/em> with a public launch event at the Charleston Library Society on May 14, 2026. Tickets and additional details are available at charlestonlibrarysociety.org<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pre-order: https:\/\/www.eveningpostbooks.com\/products\/coming-soon-this-is-how-people-die<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

South Carolina Review Associate Editor Will Cathcart\u2019s debut, genre-defying novel This Is How People Die will be published by Evening Post Books on Tuesday, April 28. A Charleston native and international journalist, Will Cathcart sets This Is How People Die between a modern sanitarium in downtown Charleston and the shadowed edges of Europe and the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4181,"featured_media":505,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[411],"tags":[],"coauthors":[36163],"class_list":["post-503","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news"],"fimg_url":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/files\/2026\/04\/Untitled-3-12-150x150.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/503","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4181"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=503"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/503\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/505"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=503"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=503"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=503"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=503"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":499,"date":"2026-04-20T19:59:52","date_gmt":"2026-04-20T19:59:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/?p=499"},"modified":"2026-04-21T14:26:51","modified_gmt":"2026-04-21T14:26:51","slug":"interview-with-volume-58-ronald-moran-prizewinner-in-fiction-cyn-nooney","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/2026\/04\/20\/interview-with-volume-58-ronald-moran-prizewinner-in-fiction-cyn-nooney\/","title":{"rendered":"Interview with Volume 58 Ronald Moran Prizewinner in Fiction Cyn Nooney"},"content":{"rendered":"

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Cyn Nooney\u2019s story \u201cSterling Recruit\u201d was the recipient of the Ronald Moran Prize in Fiction for SCR Volume 58. Here, she\u2019s interviewed by Sage Short, former SCR assistant editor and current poetry editor of Greensboro Review.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Sage Short:<\/strong> \u201cSterling Recruit\u201d opens with \u201cIt was an empowering feeling being selected, especially out of the blue like that.\u201d Where did the idea for \u201cSterling Recruit\u201d come from? Did a character come to mind? An image? Did you start with the first statement or did that come later?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cyn Nooney:<\/strong> I love these questions, as I often wonder about the genesis of work by other writers. It\u2019s an ongoing fascination of mine, and I\u2019m always down to discuss process. Usually when I begin writing a story, the igniting spark is an image that I can\u2019t shake, or a character whose voice or behavior interests me, especially those unaware they\u2019re ripe for the stage. I\u2019m continuously fascinated by the human condition and our spectrum of foibles, so entering a story isn\u2019t the hard part for me. It\u2019s the rest that often feels insurmountable. (My partially-written story count is ridiculously high.) As for \u201cSterling Recruit,\u201d the first sentence is how I began\u2014my openings don\u2019t change nearly as much as the rest of my stories do. This story is very loosely based on a weekend experience as a newcomer to Los Angeles and was absurdly long in the making\u2014it took over twenty years. I made countless failed attempts to write it, and nothing worked until I finally landed on a satirical approach. Once that happened, I was able to find the tone and POV I\u2019d been seeking, and guileless Keeley won the lead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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SS:<\/strong> How do you know when a story is finished?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CN: <\/strong>When I\u2019ve worn down another molar. Kidding aside, this is tricky to answer because it can feel impossible to know when a story is finished. But revision is key. Revision. Revision. And more revision. Feedback from trusted readers helps too. And dogged persistence. A grad school advisor, Valerie Laken, once advised me to read my work out loud and as much as I hate hearing my own voice, this technique has helped tremendously. You catch typos that way as well as where the hitches might be, including any false notes. Once you\u2019ve addressed those, you can turn an eye toward finishing. For me, endings take forever to get right, and I often write the final paragraph dozens and dozens of different ways. Sometimes it\u2019s just a matter of reordering a few words or sentences, sometimes it\u2019s heavy addition or subtraction, but intuition along with reading aloud usually lets you know when the story is done. That, and not fooling yourself. I believe most seasoned writers know when something isn\u2019t quite ready, hard as it might be to admit. I\u2019ve found it helpful to put stories that I\u2019m struggling with away for a bit and usually when I return to them later, clarity is more accessible. With any luck, the ending, or whatever needs fixing, will reveal itself. Or at least raise a middle finger in a halfhearted hello.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

SS: <\/strong>There are moments throughout \u201cSterling Recruit\u201d where I found myself laughing or feeling in conversation with the narrator, like early on in the story where you wrote, \u201cWere the deputies attractive, you might ask. It\u2019s a natural question. It\u2019s how we\u2019ve been raised.\u201d I\u2019d love to hear your take on the importance of incorporating humor in stories like \u201cSterling Recruit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CN:<\/strong> I believe humor is critical to surviving this experiment called life. Especially in dark times, such as we\u2019re currently facing. Among its many attributes, fiction can offer welcome reprieves from terror and muck, and therefore when a story has the capacity to unnerve, I\u2019ll sprinkle in occasional levity. That might be an act of self-preservation or group-preservation, but I figure why not amuse ourselves while circling the drain. A great teacher in this regard is Kurt Vonnegut and the way he approached writing about WWII. Slaughterhouse-Five is a book I have on annual repeat, and every time I re-read the line about Billy Pilgrim being \u201ctall and weak, and shaped like a bottle of Coca Cola\u201d my day becomes infinitely better. Or the way Billy\u2019s pilfered frozen overcoat is described as \u201cso small, that it appeared to be not a coat but a sort of large black, three-cornered hat.\u201d Humor can hold a reader\u2019s attention while also grabbing the heart. And makes the tough stuff go down easier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

SS:<\/strong> Do you approach your screenplays similarly to your fiction? Additionally, do you see stories cinematically while you\u2019re writing?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CN: <\/strong>Character-first is how I approach any kind of writing, however when it comes to screenplays it\u2019s prudent to know the entire plot ahead of time, including the ending. But that\u2019s difficult for me, and I often resist. One of my favorite things about fiction is discovering the character in real time, and not knowing the ending, let alone other components. Fiction allows the writer to surprise herself, and in turn, hopefully the reader. So, while the approaches are somewhat different, I do see stories cinematically while in the act of creating. It took me a while to get there, though, and I credit a writing instructor who offered invaluable critique several years ago about a story I wrote involving a woman who drives to the beach then stares at the water while mulling over a hard decision. \u201cWhat can you have your character do at the ocean that shows what she\u2019s thinking?\u201d the instructor wrote. \u201cA character can\u2019t just look at the water. Think cinematically.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That changed a lot for me. At the time I wasn\u2019t yet writing screenplays but incorporating the instructor\u2019s advice into my fiction prepared me well once I later tried my hand at scripts. The latter wasn\u2019t anything I ever planned to do but after winning a cinematic short story contest hosted by a screenwriting platform, I challenged myself to try. Dabbling in that medium is a lot of fun and provides useful exercises for any writer\u2014you can\u2019t rely on interiority because characters can only be revealed through dialogue and action. Limitations like that can be instructive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although I enjoy hopping back and forth between mediums, fiction will always be my everlasting love and is primarily where I devote most of my writing time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

SS:<\/strong> How does your background as a media executive influence your writing? Do you ever find yourself pulling inspiration for content from that time in your life?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CN:<\/strong> Hmm, this makes me ponder. I wouldn\u2019t say my media career influenced my writing per se, as I\u2019ve wanted to be a writer ever since I can remember\u2014as a child I would climb a bur oak tree with my purple lockable diary, eager for a quiet place to stow away and scribble\u2014 but I do think my cumulative experiences inform and shape my writing, like I imagine they do for any author. Most days my mind feels overstuffed but when I take the time to sift through the files, then yes, absolutely, a lot of content originates from that period in my life. Much more so than what\u2019s occurring in the present. And while I haven\u2019t yet wholly excavated my childhood, I concur with Flannery O\u2019Connor\u2019s statement, \u201cAnyone who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days.\u201d Within each of us is a dearth of storytelling material and for me, it\u2019s about what bubbles up the loudest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My former jobs offer plenty of fruit for the picking. During the early part of my career, I worked for a regional sports network that televised the Texas Rangers, Houston Astros, Dallas Mavericks, Houston Rockets and San Antonio Spurs, and my time in Dallas has served as a backdrop for many of my stories. The same can be said for Los Angeles, where I spent subsequent years in the media entertainment business as a marketing executive for E! Entertainment Television and the Style Network. Per your question, those experiences have greatly contributed to my writing, so I should probably amend my answer! Either that or get around to setting stories in Colorado, where I was raised, or the San Francisco Bay Area, where I currently live. But there\u2019s only so much time, isn\u2019t there? I believe influences and inspirations are there for the taking, all around us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

SS:<\/strong> What\u2019s up next for you?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

CN:<\/strong> I wish it would be a large tax return, but since that\u2019s not going to happen, I\u2019ll just keep pecking away. (I\u2019ll keep pecking regardless, as I can\u2019t not write despite the anguish I sometimes feel about this wacky passion.) As writers, the only thing we have control over is our productivity. Mine tends to ebb and flow, the former being the case too often! but I plan to always create\u2014as much for my sanity as anything else. A frequent and common question I receive from well-intentioned family members and friends is, \u201cAre you still writing?\u201d I\u2019ve yet to locate the perfect response so I\u2019m all ears if anyone has one beyond, \u201cYes, and can you please quit asking that!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Multiple unfinished stories are currently clamoring for my attention and meanwhile I\u2019m assembling a collection, plus making notes for a potential novel. Hopefully I\u2019ll somehow manage to get published every now and again in fine publications such as South Carolina Review. I\u2019ll be forever grateful to the team at SCR for publishing and honoring my work. Thank you endlessly!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Cyn Nooney\u2019s story \u201cSterling Recruit\u201d was the recipient of the Ronald Moran Prize in Fiction for SCR Volume 58. Here, she\u2019s interviewed by Sage Short, former SCR assistant editor and current poetry editor of Greensboro Review. Sage Short: \u201cSterling Recruit\u201d opens with \u201cIt was an empowering feeling being selected, especially out of the blue like […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4181,"featured_media":500,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"coauthors":[36163],"class_list":["post-499","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"fimg_url":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/files\/2026\/04\/5e4bcffc-fc09-4371-9a20-e544fd4220ce-150x150.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/499","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4181"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=499"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/499\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/500"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=499"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=499"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=499"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=499"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":495,"date":"2026-04-06T19:57:58","date_gmt":"2026-04-06T19:57:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/?p=495"},"modified":"2026-04-06T19:57:58","modified_gmt":"2026-04-06T19:57:58","slug":"interview-with-volume-57-ronald-moran-prizewinner-in-poetry-dominique-ahkong","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/2026\/04\/06\/interview-with-volume-57-ronald-moran-prizewinner-in-poetry-dominique-ahkong\/","title":{"rendered":"Interview with Volume 57 Ronald Moran Prizewinner in Poetry Dominique Ahkong"},"content":{"rendered":"

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This interview was conducted by Assistant Editor Nell Kriegel with Dominique Ahkong, recipient of the Ronald Moran Prize in Poetry for her poem \u201cA Man Who Looks Like Your Best Friend\u2019s Father,\u201d featured in SCR<\/em> Volume 57.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Nell Kriegel:<\/strong> In addition to your work as a poet, you serve as an editor for Sh\u014d Poetry Journal\u2014how do you navigate the balance between your editorial mindset and your creative work? Do you find it challenging to \u201cturn off\u201d the editor while you\u2019re writing?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dominique Ahkong:<\/strong> This was a problem for me in my 20s and 30s; pulling all-nighters before a deadline was the only way I could squeeze past my inner editor. As an editor now, I try to approach work with curiosity, and I often read poems intuitively.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Since reading submissions as well as producing and promoting the journal takes up much of my time and energy, most of my writing happens between reading periods. I tend to write in bursts and often get so caught up in the excitement that I sometimes over-edit poems as they form. I\u2019ve learned to avoid revisiting my own poems in the evening and know when I need to leave them alone for a while.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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NK: <\/strong>In your poem \u201cA Man Who Looks Like Your Best Friend\u2019s Father\u201d the form is a long block of text; how do you decide which poems are suited for line breaks and which ones lean into prose? What\u2019s the motivator behind this form?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DA:<\/strong> I originally composed \u201cA Man Who Looks Like Your Best Friend\u2019s Father\u201d in free verse. I was working on a group of poems that each began with the title \u201cTimes I Said Nothing.\u201d The poems sat for ten years before I took them up again, and \u201cA Man Who Looks Like Your Best Friend\u2019s Father\u201d was the first to take shape. I remember trying to write it as a duplex: the form helped me voice lines that felt true to the experience, but I was also taking broad liberties with variations on the repeated lines, and the syllabic count was off\u2014maybe not a duplex, I thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I\u2019m feeling stuck with a poem, I sometimes box it up as a prose poem to see what\u2019s going on. I read my poems aloud as I compose and revise; musicality is important to me. Over time, my memory of this incident has solidified into a block. On one hand, there\u2019s a long-haul flight and the heaviness of feeling drugged, and on the other hand, there\u2019s the active mind pushing doubt back and forth. When I changed the title, things clicked into place for me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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NK:<\/strong> “When I Met You\u201d closes with the line, \u201cI will become whatever I become.\u201d Do you see poetry as a mode of becoming? More broadly, how intertwined is writing with your sense of identity\u2014and how necessary is it to you?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DA:<\/strong> In college I had a poetry professor who championed my work but gave me very little feedback. He said: 1) You have to go deeper; and 2) You should be reading more contemporary poetry. That was it. Looking back on it now, that was exactly right. I\u2019ve been a reader for most of my life, but at the time, I was so burnt out that I stopped reading books for a few years. I was steeped in film\/video, interactive media, and photography, where my work could be personal but less vulnerable. But I missed paper, the physical page.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At some point I took an interest in book arts, which brought me back to poetry. I also left the tropics and found myself, for the first time, surrounded by space, and quiet, with a study of my own. It\u2019s taken about 20 years for me to inhabit the practice, but yes, I consider poetry my life work\u2014both reading\/studying contemporary poetry and writing poetry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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NK: <\/strong>There\u2019s a line of yours that is just so stunning\u2014 \u201cI begged to be useful, knowing nothing is too small to be useful: brackets in a sum or a decimal point or a stub still wagging.\u201d The attention to small details feels so essential to the poem\u2019s impact. How do you scale in your writing, balancing both expansive ideas and those precise, intimate details?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DA: <\/strong>This poem came together very quickly for me. I was already in the writing zone and remember sitting down with the title to meditate on an experience. Instead, I ended up with this poem. I don\u2019t really think about scope when I\u2019m writing\u2014I might think about that sort of thing if a poem isn\u2019t working and I\u2019m trying to approach it from a different angle, but for the most part, I write intuitively. I\u2019d been listening to Alice Coltrane\u2019s Ptah the El Daoud<\/em> and ended up following the current.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

NK: <\/strong>What themes do you find moving right now?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

DA:<\/strong> I\u2019ve been trying to carve out space to work towards my first collection. Secrecy, silence, and shame are key themes, along with migration, inheritance, and ritual. Faith and caretaking are other layers beneath that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This interview was conducted by Assistant Editor Nell Kriegel with Dominique Ahkong, recipient of the Ronald Moran Prize in Poetry for her poem \u201cA Man Who Looks Like Your Best Friend\u2019s Father,\u201d featured in SCR Volume 57. Nell Kriegel: In addition to your work as a poet, you serve as an editor for Sh\u014d Poetry […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4181,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[411,1],"tags":[],"coauthors":[36163],"class_list":["post-495","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-news","category-uncategorized"],"fimg_url":false,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/495","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4181"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=495"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/495\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=495"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=495"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=495"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=495"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}},{"id":465,"date":"2026-03-01T12:59:14","date_gmt":"2026-03-01T12:59:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/?p=465"},"modified":"2026-03-06T15:59:52","modified_gmt":"2026-03-06T15:59:52","slug":"ongoing-scr-contributors-at-awp-2026","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.clemson.edu\/southcarolinareview\/2026\/03\/01\/ongoing-scr-contributors-at-awp-2026\/","title":{"rendered":"Ongoing: SCR Contributors at AWP 2026"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

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Our South Carolina Review writers and friends are scattered across the map, but AWP is where we come together. Below, we\u2019re highlighting and celebrating our writers\u2019 events in Baltimore this week \u2014 and we\u2019ll keep updating the list as details arrive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Stevie Edwards<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Poetry editor, Stevie Edwards hits the scene Wednesday night in Baltimore and will be all over AWP until it ends on Saturday. Want to know where she’ll be? See below!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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