{"id":592,"date":"2018-12-31T13:00:29","date_gmt":"2018-12-31T13:00:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/wordpress.etypegoogle10.com\/?p=592"},"modified":"2018-12-31T13:00:29","modified_gmt":"2018-12-31T13:00:29","slug":"lex-williford-071716","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wordpress.etypegoogle10.com\/?p=592","title":{"rendered":"Lex Williford 071716"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"articleHeader\"><\/div>\n<div id=\"pu144737-16\">\n<div id=\"u144741\">\n<div id=\"u144742-16\">\n<p><span>Lex Williford<\/span> is the founding director of the online MFA at the University of Texas at El Paso and is the current chair of UTEP\u2019s bilingual MFA program. His fiction and nonfiction have appeared in <span id=\"u144742-3\">American Literary Review, Elm Leaves, Fiction, Glimmer Train Stories, Hayden\u2019s Ferry Review, Kansas Quarterly, Laurel Review, Natural Bridge, The Novel and Short Story Writer\u2019s Market 2002, Poets &#038; Writers, Quarterly West, Prairie Schooner, Shenandoah, Smokelong Quarterly, Southern Review, Sou\u2019wester, StoryQuarterly, Tame me, Virginia Quarterly Review, Water~Stone,<\/span> and <span id=\"u144742-5\">Witness;<\/span> his stories have been anthologized in <span id=\"u144742-7\">Flash Fiction, Sudden Flash Youth, The Iowa Award: The Best Stories, 1991\u20132000<\/span> and <span id=\"u144742-9\">The Best of Witness: 1987\u20132004, The Eloquent Short Story, <\/span>and elsewhere.\u00a0 He has received fellowships from the National Endowment of the Arts, Bread Loaf Writers\u2019 Conference, the Blue Mountain Center, the Centrum Foundation, the Djerassi Foundation, the MacDowell Colony, the Millay Colony, the Ragdale Foundation, the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, Villa Montalvo, the Wurlitzer Foundation and Yaddo. He is coeditor, with Michael Martone, of the popular<span id=\"u144742-11\"> Scribner Anthology of Contemporary Short Fiction,<\/span> now in its second edition, and the <span id=\"u144742-13\">Touchstone Anthology of Contemporary Nonfiction.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<div id=\"u144743-165\">\n<h1 id=\"u144743-2\">7.17.2016\u00a0 Lex Williford, El Paso writer and teacher, editor<\/h1>\n<p id=\"u144743-9\"><span>Many of our readers are aspiring writers <\/span>\u2014 <span id=\"u144743-6\">but with the day job they can\u2019t find the time or the way to write. In this week\u2019s issue Lone Star Listens visits with <\/span><span id=\"u144743-7\">Lex Williford, <\/span><span id=\"u144743-8\">who chairs the online creative writing MFA program at the University of Texas at El Paso. Williford is a prolific short story and short form author himself, and he discusses his writing life along with his academic life that embraces this one-of-a-kind writing program.<\/span><\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-13\"><span id=\"u145374\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.lexwilliford.com\/\" id=\"u145366\" target=\"_blank\" class=\"readableLinkWithLargeImage\" rel=\"noopener\"><\/p>\n<div class=\"readableLargeImageContainer\"><img decoding=\"async\"   src=\"https:\/\/lonestarliterary.etypegoogle10.com\/sites\/lonestarliterary.etypegoogle10.com\/files\/description\/williford%2c%20lex_lone%20star%20listens_montage%20sm.jpg\"  id=\"u145366_img\" \/><\/div>\n<p><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-18\"><span>LONE STAR LITERARY LIFE:<\/span> <span id=\"u144743-17\">For the past decade you have lived in Texas, heading up the bilingual online MFA in creative writing program at the University of Texas at El Paso. Where did you grow up, and how did that influence your writing?<\/span><\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-22\"><span>LEX WILLIFORD:<\/span> First, let me clarify. Our on-campus MFA program is bilingual, but we have students who are primarily monolingual, in either English or Spanish. Our online MFA program mostly focuses on writing English, though we do have students writing in Spanish at times. I\u2019m teaching a screenwriting class this summer session, and one of the scripts we\u2019re reading is in Spanish\u2014a crossover student from our on-campus program taking an online class.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-25\">I was born in El Paso, and I never expected that I might someday return. My father was stationed as a radar commander and a second lieutenant at Fort Bliss in the mid1950s, and I was born at Biggs Air Force Base when the Fort Bliss hospital was dealing with a diphtheria epidemic.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-28\">My parents moved me at six months back to Dallas, where I grew up. That place, the place of my childhood, is often the setting of my stories; in many ways that Dallas no longer exists. I remember going to the Plano drive-in when Plano was nothing but farms and cotton fields. Now I drive through the town and there\u2019s nothing plain old about it \u2014 skyscrapers left and right for miles \u2014 as if I\u2019ve been thrown into a time warp.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-31\">I\u2019ve moved all over, taught all over \u2014 in Missouri and Arkansas and Alabama and Illinois \u2014 and I\u2019ve gone to most of the artist residencies in the northeast and California, so I returned to El Paso as something of a Texas expatriate. It felt like destiny somehow, and it still does. El Paso is a wonderful place to land, such a rich and thriving and diverse and open culture, UTEP a beautiful university with my favorite students ever, eighty percent Mexico or Mexican American.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-36\">I feel very much at home here because I was adopted almost immediately, even though I\u2019m just a bland old <span id=\"u144743-34\">g\u00fcero,<\/span> a blondie. (Actually, my hair\u2019s white because I\u2019m old.) But a lot about Texas baffles me \u2014 the open hostility toward people of color, immigrants, etc., especially these days, when the country has become so polarized. Baffled by Texas legislators, who vote to cut state funding for education, then say we should have guns on campus. The whole thing is a little crazy-making sometimes. At the beginning of the twenty-first century I continue to be appalled at how too many white folks act, fearful and hateful and ignorant and too often proud of it. I have many ambivalent feelings about Texas, about the Deep South, though the racism I see in white communities is as widespread in the Midwest and North as it is here. I just don\u2019t understand it. I also feel ambivalence about my family at times, who I write about indirectly, but that doesn\u2019t mean that I don\u2019t love them or the place I grew up. I do, but it\u2019s a complex love, not something I can&#8217;t explain in any other way than through my stories \u2014 most of which aren\u2019t exactly cheerful.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-40\">Did you come from a family of storytellers? And when did you know that you wanted to be a writer?<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-43\">My father, who just turned eighty-five, has been both the inspiration for and something of a subject of my fiction. He was and still is a remarkable storyteller, especially a teller of complex, hilarious jokes. I never learned short jokes\u2014except for the Aggie jokes only he could tell in our house. They were always long jokes, and my father\u2019s theatricality definitely rubbed off on me\u2014and on one of my sisters, who was an actor in New York for many years. I love my father in the same way I love Texas, but it\u2019s a complex love, not without questioning or skepticism. He is. in almost every way that those who might know what I\u2019m talking about, a Texas Aggie who came up in the Corps of Cadets in the fifties. That makes him tough and quite conservative in his beliefs, stubborn in ways that are almost comic. But he can be remarkably kind and generous, and he was a remarkable watercolor artist and architect known for several of his buildings in Dallas, especially Douglas Plaza in Preston Center. The greatest gift he gave me was a love of drawing and painting and art \u2014 and storytelling. I was fortunate in that he was so gifted, so generous, so willing to share his gifts.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-46\">My father wanted me to be an architect like him, but I decided to write instead. I started with drawing and painting, but the images I paint now are mostly in words.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-50\">The audience of Lone Star Literary Life is a real mixed bag \u2014 we have people who like to read books about Texas and by Texas authors, but we also have academics, librarians, and publishing industry professionals. However, our audience may not be aware of the various anthologies and literary journals where you have been so successful in getting published. For example, you co-edited two literary anthologies; will you describe them for our readers?<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-55\">I\u2019ve been incredibly fortunate to co-edit (with <span>Michael Martone,<\/span> a brilliant, innovative short story writer and teacher I call the Story Laureate of Indiana) two anthologies for Simon &#038; Schuster, one of contemporary creative nonfiction, the other of contemporary short fiction. The idea for the first anthology came to me when I taught with Michael at the University of Alabama. What if, I thought, we polled the great writers and writing teachers all across the U.S. to find out what their favorite contemporary fiction (and later creative nonfiction) was, what they most often teach in their classes? I wrote a book proposal and it was accepted almost right away. Since then, the fiction anthology, now in its second edition, and the creative nonfiction anthology, in its first, both have been more successful than I could have ever imagined. We\u2019ve been talking about going into new editions for both anthologies, but I\u2019m inclined to work on my own writing (and drawing) for now, mostly because the publishing industry has changed so significantly since the first edition of our first anthology in 1999 and because being an editor of such complex projects is incredibly time-consuming and stressful.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-59\">Some people have said that the short story is making a comeback, through the variety of short-read formats now available in digital and audiobooks. As someone who has published short stories in some of the nation\u2019s most prestigious journals, what\u2019s your take on the status of short fiction?<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-66\">Like <span>Frank O\u2019Connor,<\/span> the great Irish short story writer \u2014 the writer of one of my favorite books about short fiction, <span>The Lonely Voice<\/span> \u2014 I think of short fiction as a close cousin to poetry. The very short form I suppose I\u2019m best known for \u2014 flash fiction \u2014 has been popular since the eighties, when I began writing short-short stories, but it\u2019s always been around, in many forms, the parable and fable as old as storytelling itself. The chapbook that\u2019s coming out is a novella in flash, ten stories no longer than 1,000 words each, which compress time and dramatic incidents into the tightest possible space, fifty years covered in a book of forty pages, which is part of a longer book I\u2019ve been writing for quite a while, and I hope to include these little stories as the layers in a layer cake of longer stories about the same characters. Compression of the kind we\u2019re talking about is, for me, an obsession, and it\u2019s essential to the short story form. For example, to keep all my stories under 1,000 words for this chapbook I had to be selective about what I kept and what I cut. That process forced me add to and then to boil the stories down to their essences, and that exercise is one I\u2019ve learned a tremendous amount about in the practice of being a writer and, I hope, a teacher. I suggest the exercise of compression for my students all the time.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-71\">As for the short-story form, it will always thrive, I think. We\u2019ve been in a short-story renaissance since before the rise of writers like <span>Raymond Carver,<\/span> a period that makes the twenties, the last great renaissance of the short story, look almost short-lived. The proliferation of creative writing programs has something to do with that, and the quality of short stories has just gotten better and better, the bar for the form rising higher and higher. I don\u2019t see that changing, or at least I hope it doesn\u2019t change.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-78\">Some of the greatest short story writers ever alive are writing right now: <span>Alice Munro, William Trevor, Charles Baxter, Sherman Alexie, Louise Erdrich, Anthony Doerr, Dagoberto Gilb, Sandra Cisneros, Denis Johnson, Annie Proulx, Junot D\u00edaz, George Sanders, Edward P. Jones, ZZ Packer, Joyce Carol Oates<\/span>\u2014the list goes on and on. Short stories are a difficult form, and that&#8217;s what make them appealing to me, the challenges they always present. I\u2019m not by nature a novelist because I try to make each chapter I write have a kind of completeness that makes it stand alone even if it\u2019s part of something longer. For this reason, over the years chapters I\u2019ve written have taken me a long time and often end up being published in places like <span id=\"u144743-76\">Glimmer Train Stories.<\/span> I\u2019ve worked mostly in what we call nowadays \u201cthe novel in stories.\u201d<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-83\">The remarkable short-story writer <span>Joy Williams<\/span> recently said something that pretty much covers the short-story form for me, what I look for in fiction in general: When she reaches the end of the story, she writes, \u201cI want to be devastated.&#8221; I love that. I\u2019ve compared the short-short form to cherries, something sweet, lyrical, but also a bit tart and dark, with a seed inside hard enough to break a tooth \u2014 or to cherry bombs, little stories that are always in danger of going off in one\u2019s hands. In fact, I have to have that sense of risk and danger. If I\u2019m not terrified when I\u2019m writing, I feel as if I\u2019m just typing.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-89\">Your chapbook <span id=\"u144743-87\">Superman on the Roof<\/span> was recently the winner of the Tenth Annual Rose Metal Press Short Short Chapbook Contest, selected by Ira Sukrungruang. For our readers not familiar with that format, will you tell them about the format, and then will you tell us specifically about your book?<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-92\">I was completely surprised by winning this prize, a prize I\u2019ve used as an excuse to rewrite and rewrite these stories endlessly, throwing out the ones that didn\u2019t work, then writing others. Ira\u2019s introduction to the books is wonderful. He says just what I\u2019d hope someone might say: that every word, every sentence, has a sense of urgency.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-101\">First, a little about the publisher: Rose Metal Press specializes in hybrid forms, forms that blur the boundaries between poetry and fiction, prose poetry and flash fiction, etc. It\u2019s a terrific press, with, I\u2019ve learned, two terrific editors, however small the press might be, and I\u2019ve always loved the book of flash fiction exercises <span>Tara Masih<\/span> put together, <span>The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Writing Flash Fiction.<\/span> It\u2019s a book every writer of short fiction should buy and read. One of the essays (and one of the stories that shows up in <span id=\"u144743-99\">Superman on the Roof<\/span>) was about the forty days I spent in the desert writing in 2002, a writing assignment I gave myself at the Wurlitzer Foundation in Taos, New Mexico, to try to write a story every day. I ended up publishing most of those stories, though they were often raw and unfinished when I left Taos. I\u2019ve been working on them ever since.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-104\">Second, a little about chapbooks: A short book form usually reserved for poetry, a chapbook is a little book varying in length, often published in limited editions with the kinds of handmade covers and handset type associated with the highest quality small presses, but usually under a hundred pages, and it\u2019s a form particularly well suited to what the editors, Abigail Beckel and Kathleen Rooney, call a novella in flash. Their press is innovative in far too many ways to describe here, but I recommend going to the press\u2019s website just to see the wide variety of books they publish: www.rosemetalpress.com. I believe the print run was 400, and when those chapbooks are gone, that\u2019ll be it.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-108\">Many of our readers are aspiring authors, and they\u2019d like to hear a few words of wisdom from the chair of one of the most innovative online creative writing programs in the country. Will you describe your program for us?<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-111\">Our faculty set out not long after the turn of the century to create a program as distinctive as the place we taught. We began with a bilingual program which we used to attract students from all over the Americas, and those students have done remarkably well, beginning writing programs in their home countries like Colombia, Uruguay, Peru, etc. They\u2019re amazing students, just amazing, and many of them have gone on to win prestigious awards all over the world. Our faculty \u2014 we currently have faculty from the U. S., Mexico, Colombia, Cuba, Peru, the Philippines, etc., including some of the most respected translators and chican@ writers in the U.S. The first Hispanic writer ever to win the prestigious PEN\/Faulkner award was our own Benjamin Al\u00edre S\u00e4enz, who just retired last spring.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-115\">Around ten years ago, the UT Telecampus recruited us to begin the first online MFA in the country. We thought it was the ideal way of getting students from the Americas to the U.S. post\u20139\/11, when so many students were having trouble getting student visas. The program has grown to around sixty students, and they\u2019re as talented as any MFA students I\u2019ve ever taught. I was skeptical that an online MFA would be possible, but our students have surprised us year after year, many of them going on to distinguished careers. Unfortunately, because of budget cuts, the UT Telecampus went bust, and we had to scramble to find a way to keep our online MFA alive, which I\u2019m proud to say we managed, especially with the help of our current director, novelist and short-story writer <span>Daniel Chac\u00f3n.<\/span><\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-119\">What Texas authors do you enjoy reading?<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-135\"><span>Katherine Anne Porter<\/span> \u2014 good god, what a remarkable short story writer she was \u2014 and, of course, <span>Larry McMurtry<\/span> and <span>Cormac McCarthy.<\/span> But there are others I know many of your readers may not have heard of, like <span>Allen Weir,<\/span> whose eight-hundred-page novel <span>Tejano<\/span> (SMU Press), is remarkable. And, of course, we have terrific Mexican-American writers like <span>Dagoberto Gilb<\/span> and <span>Sandra Cisneros.<\/span> What\u2019s happening in the literatures of the Americas, in the writing by people of color, is absolutely amazing. People who\u2019ve historically been silenced, invisible, have created a remarkable chorus of voices which says everything important about what it means to be an American, hyphenated or not. Writers of color have crossed the artificial borders between languages and cultures in ways we should find pride in as Americans. Forget the culture wars. When it comes to the diversity of voices in contemporary American literature, we should all feel joy, hopeful, at peace.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-139\">What advice do you have for aspiring authors?<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-144\">Be stubborn and persistent, and don\u2019t give up. Do the work for its own sake alone. Forget money or fame. Work your ass off. The Mexicano mystery writer <span>Paco Taibo<\/span> once said when visiting the UTEP campus that the most important thing for any writer is \u201ctiempo de nalgas.\u201d Ass time. Putting your ass in a chair and staying there until something comes. It\u2019s not as much about talent as it is about learning craft and practicing, day after day. Shouldering the boulder, I call it, like Sisyphus, knowing that that big stone is probably going to roll back down the hill but pushing and pushing anyway, then walking back down the hill and pushing again. You have to push for the muse to visit. She\u2019s generous when she sees us sweating a little.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-149\">I<span id=\"u144743-148\"> understand that you have a couple of novels in the works. Can you talk about those?<\/span><\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-152\">I\u2019ve been working for too many years on two novels, and I still have a lot of work to do to get either of them finished. I\u2019m slow, and I\u2019ve stopped apologizing for being slow, even glacial. I\u2019ve stopped hating how I work, too. I just work. And I\u2019ve stopped talking about my work until it\u2019s done. All I can say is that both novels occur in Texas \u2014 one set mostly in east Texas and the other in central Texas \u2014 but that\u2019s as far as I\u2019ll go.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-156\">What\u2019s next for Lex Williford?<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-159\">Last year, I received a grant to illustrate a kids\u2019 book I wrote and sketched years ago. I\u2019ve been working on that mostly, and I\u2019ve found that drawing and writing seem to feed each other. I hope to get that book done in a year or so. And I\u2019ve written and rewritten a couple of scripts that have gotten me a little notice, but I\u2019m not happy with either of them. I plan to rewrite them again, from the ground up, if I can ever find the time. Being chair has taken more of my time than I\u2019m willing to admit, but I\u2019ve learned a lot doing it. I\u2019ll be happy to go back to the classroom full time, though. I\u2019m a lousy administrator. I\u2019m a teaching writer and a writing teacher. The two things feed each other in ways I can\u2019t begin to describe. I love teaching. My students have taught me more than I\u2019ve ever taught them. I\u2019m incredibly lucky in that way. And I started a family \u2014 not a second but a first \u2014 in my mid-fifties, have two terrific kids six and eight who keep me young, who teach me and do their best to keep me humble. And my wife, she\u2019s just amazing. I make no predictions because, for me, the work is its own reward.<\/p>\n<p id=\"u144743-163\">* * * * *<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Lex Williford is the founding director of the online MFA at the University of Texas at El Paso and is the current chair of UTEP\u2019s bilingual MFA program. His fiction and nonfiction have appeared in American Literary Review, Elm Leaves, Fiction, Glimmer Train Stories, Hayden\u2019s Ferry Review, Kansas Quarterly, Laurel Review, Natural Bridge, The Novel [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-592","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.etypegoogle10.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/592","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.etypegoogle10.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.etypegoogle10.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.etypegoogle10.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.etypegoogle10.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=592"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.etypegoogle10.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/592\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.etypegoogle10.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=592"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.etypegoogle10.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=592"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wordpress.etypegoogle10.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=592"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}