On April 22nd, 2010, NOON, the celebrated annual journal of short fiction, hosted a reading and release party for their 11th issue at the Center for Fiction in New York. The event featured brief readings from contributors Anya Yurchyshyn, Lincoln Michel, Sara Jaffe, Kim Chinquee, Dylan Nice and Tao Lin.
Although a lengthy consideration of NOON’s numerous merits would be possible and, in many ways, fruitful—as the consideration of things of merit is always fruitful—such an expansive explication would be antithetical to the esteemed journal’s aesthetic of economy, lightness and, perhaps above all, mystery; the description of the object would become, rather, a distortion of the object, disfigured from the outset by its very form. Let us, then, talk about NOON fully, yet succinctly.
Put simply, NOON is one of the most—if not, the most—focused and visionary literary journal being published today. NOON stories are the frequent winners of O. Henry Prizes and Pushcart Prizes, and books from which excerpts were originally published in NOON have even gone on to become Finalists for National Book Awards (Christine Schutt’s Florida and Lydia Davis’s Varieties of Disturbances).
The stories in NOON are consistently surprising, smart, urgent, haunting and wry, and they are, without exception, conveyed in a style that is as formally experimental as aesthetically rigorous. The new issue is an extension—as well as a furthering of—that tradition. (Full disclosure: I helped to copy edit this issue for about four hours one rainy day in October of 2009.) Some of the many notable stories include Deb Olin Unferth’s wonderfully self-eviscerating story “My Daughter Debbie,” Anya Yurchyshyn’s similarly wonderful “A Dog Named Anya,” Lydia Davis’s series of shorts “Nine More Considerations,” Laurence C. Peacock’s surreally hilarious “American Furniture” and Dylan Nice’s quietly heartbreaking “Ice Floe.”
Last week, over email, I had the pleasure of corresponding with NOON‘s founding editor Diane Williams. We discussed, among other things, editing, writing and Donald Barthelme’s ideal audience. Presented here are the questions and their answers.
—James Yeh
I. “SO THERE GOES AT LEAST ONE BOOK.”
THE FASTER TIMES: A fellow editor once told me that my decision to start a literary magazine was going to “cost me at least one book.” Do you find this to be true? Are you, in a sense, sacrificing work authored by Diane Williams for work edited by Diane Williams?
DIANE WILLIAMS: No. It’s the other way around. A life entirely devoted to fiction writing can make a person—more accurately—it can make me!—too disoriented and too sad—so there goes at least one book.
TFT: What’s the editing process like at NOON?
DIANE WILLIAMS: I read the manuscript and make suggestions for revision as necessary. If I am lucky, Christine Schutt, Laura Kirk and Lauren Spohrer—all three—read the manuscript and weigh in. The author revises. We produce galleys for the author’s review and the staff and I study the text again.
TFT: One thing that I don’t think gets talked about enough is the fact that NOON, while aesthetically rigorous, incisive, and beautiful, is often very funny too, in that way awful and true things always are. I’m thinking of nearly all of Deb Olin Unferth’s and Tao Lin’s stories, as well as Anya Yurchyshyn’s notable new story “A Dog Named Anya,” in which a young woman named Anya attends a party whereupon she encounters the host’s large dog—also named Anya.
“This is Anya.” He patted her head. She licked his palm.
“Hi, Anya,” I said. “I’m Anya.”
What role does humor play for you in fiction?
DIANE WILLIAMS: I’d prefer to be laughing most of the time. Of course, terror is expelled in our laughter. I dream, too, about the ideal text—that for me—provides an ingenious convergence of comedy and tragedy.
II. “WHY NOT FOR YOU?”
TFT: I’m interested in what it is about stories that interests you. Would you tell me about one of your favorite NOON pieces? You don’t have to say who it’s by—but what is it that first drew you to the story? What is it about the story that you love and admire, are strengthened by?
DIANE WILLIAMS: Ach! There would be too much to say here and I am much better at doing my job than I am about talking about my job. Gary Lutz’s “The Sentence is a Lonely Place”—a lecture he delivered to the students of Columbia University on September 25, 2008 and later published in the Believer (January 2009) is a magisterial expression of the aesthetic values we share. I consider this lecture to be one of the most important contributions to 21st century American letters.
TFT: At a writing conference at Brown University in 1988, a critic once asked of Donald Barthelme: “Why do you write? Who is your audience?” To which Barthelme answered matter-of-factly: “I know exactly who I’m writing for. They are extremely intelligent and physically attractive.” I have heard another writer, Lee K. Abbott, say that he writes for “the lady on the bus.” Who is it that you write for?
DIANE WILLIAMS: Why not for you?!
TFT: Is this audience the same as those for whom you edit NOON?
DIANE WILLIAMS: Yes.
TFT: Why did you decide to start NOON?
DIANE WILLIAMS: We know this is a challenging time for serious prose fiction. I want to do my part. Possibly there’s an imperative too violent for me to tolerate. I have described a scream I screamed—my first and last in that category I hope—when I feared StoryQuarterly was in danger. I inaugurated NOON, with Christine Schutt’s valiant support, when my twelve year association with StoryQuarterly ended.
III. “MY FREQUENT EXPERIENCE OF CERTITUDE WHEN I EVALUATE SOMEONE ELSE’S TEXT.”
TFT: I’m a big fan of NOON’s covers. The covers, I feel, could be described as striking, taut, impactful—much like the stories within. But why animals? I know only the last four covers have featured animals, but what is it about animals that you find intriguing?
DIANE WILLIAMS: Well, I agree our covers are magnificent. You need to address your question to the brilliant Susan Carroll—our designer. I have given her carte blanche. We never discuss the cover until after she’s completed it. I look forward to being startled, bedeviled and delighted by her choices.
TFT: What’s the best part about working as an editor?
DIANE WILLIAMS: The best part about working as an editor is my frequent experience of certitude when I evaluate somebody else’s text. I have much less access to this when I’m troubling over my own sentences. Hey! It’s gratifying to feature so many gorgeous, momentous works.
TFT: If I may ask, the worst?
DIANE WILLIAMS: The worst part about my job is that I share the disappointment and the anger a rejection from NOON will likely cause. I am haunted also by the shame of submitting weak work of mine that’s been booted back to me by many editors. It is especially upsetting if we need to return work from esteemed friends and colleagues.
IV. “I AM AT THE MERCY OF THE VAGARIES OF BOTH.”
TFT: You seem very youthful, healthy. Before being a writer and editor, you worked as a dance therapist. Do you feel there’s a significant connection between physical health and mental health?
DIANE WILLIAMS: Well, that’s lovely to hear—youthful and healthy. I hope so. Of course, there is a connection between physical health and mental health. I think mental health has the upper hand here and I am at the mercy of the vagaries of both. I pray to stay strong enough to do my work.
TFT: At the recent reading, you featured a great deal of new readers—first-time NOON authors like Lincoln Michel, Anya Yurchyshyn, and Sara Jaffe, but also a few NOON regulars like Tao Lin, Kim Chinquee and Dylan Nice, who have been in the magazine but had not previously read at a NOON event. Was this a conscious move, to present a few new faces?
DIANE WILLIAMS: We’re very proud of all our NOON contributors. The 2010 launch reading felt especially celebratory. Everybody’s arms—NOON’s and the audience’s—were open wide for our newest authors.
TFT: What’s in store for NOON in 2010 and beyond? What new challenges are you and your staff looking to take on?
DIANE WILLIAMS: Ho! We won’t tell.
—
Original art by Antonia Blair.
NOON photograph by Alison Kuo.
—
Antonia Blair is an artist and writer who lives in Brooklyn, NY.
More on these topics:
Antonia Blair, Anya Yurchyshyn, Diane Williams, experimental fiction, literary journals, NOON annual























