By Barb Johnson
Originally from the U.S., Meg Pokrass currently resides in the U.K., where she works as an editor and teacher. She’s published nine collections of flash fiction and two novellas and received extensive recognition for her literary contributions, including more than eight hundred stories. Her story, “You and Your Middle-Aged Cat,” was published in Issue 69 of Bayou Magazine.
Her most recent book is First Law of Holes, New & Selected Stories. (Dzanc Books, Sept. 2024) First Law of Holes has been described by the publisher as a “stunning selection of stories from the past fourteen years of her career, tackling themes of belonging, obsession, messy love and loneliness with her trademark, unconventional storytelling.”
I spoke with Pokrass recently about this newest book.
This collection of your work spans fourteen years and includes new and selected stories. The new collection, and the title of the book, is First Law of Holes.
How do you think these newest stories differ from those published in, say, 2011? What writerly preoccupations would you say are the same? Any new topics you’re exploring?
I’ve long been interested in how humans cope with loss. How we’re all beautiful, walking puzzles with pieces missing. This preoccupation has never changed and, if anything, it defines my stories. I’m still writing about loss of home, literal and metaphorical, in various ways.
I’m fascinated by the moments in which we make imperfect decisions and how, in the end, these decisions come to define us. I’ve been called “the queen of messy love stories,” and I’m hooked on stories that involve looking for love in comically bizarre places. I’m especially interested in how we end up becoming our parents even though we spend a lifetime trying NOT to be like them.
Some newer preoccupations include the indignities of aging and the weird challenges of being a fish out of water. I’ll blame this last one on my daily reality of being an American expat living in the Scottish Highlands. I never write about these themes consciously, but like dogs and cats and birds in my stories, they sneak right in when I’m not looking.
Reading flash fiction is like eating one of those peppers that have a slow build to the whammo of their heat. There’s a few seconds’ delay between swallowing it and the heat hitting. It’s surprising every time, even though you know it’s coming. You think, How can something so small pack such a punch?
What do you think it is about flash fiction that accounts for its punch, for how satisfying it can be despite its brevity?
Because flash fiction is an experimental form that marries the compression and lyricism of poetry with the dramatic urgency of fiction, it’s a compact literary superfood. A flash fiction writer must know what they are writing about and yet must refrain from saying it outright. We must trust the reader implicitly as if they are a confidante, lover, or co-conspirator.
In the title story of the collection, the characters are making very strange choices, as is typical of all your stories. However, the situations are so deftly set up that the reader is able to feel for them without judging them, freeing us to enjoy their strange adventures without thinking about the sociological or psychological implications. They are how they are.
Can you talk some about where these strange creatures come from?
I learned to write from many years in acting, so I may have an unconventional view of things. I aim not to have anything in mind when I write. Raymond Carver said, “A little autobiography and a lot of imagination are best for writing fiction.” Honestly, this is all I feel I’ve got. My process involves imagining what my own life would be like in a character’s shoes. I don’t go for empathy or sympathy, as you say.
In the story, “The First Law of Holes,” I imagined myself as a character born to a clown father and how I’d probably be attracted to a guy like Dad until I saw, up close and personal, how limiting being the partner of an unsuccessful clown can be when your life depends on it. Then I’d look further afield, and in that vulnerable state, might fall in with a giant, become intrigued with a beautiful contortionist, etc. I focused on the eccentric choices a circus performer might be looking at when love falls apart.
I feel that people are directed to do the illogical things they do because of what is “missing” in their lives. This goes back to the idea of “holes.” Sometimes what people do to fix their holes actually works. Sometimes what they do creates even larger holes. The first law of holes, as I understand it, is to “stop digging.” I’m fond of characters who don’t follow the laws, and continue to dig.
I’m especially interested in coming-of-age stories because teenagers are both vulnerable and invulnerable at the same time. They are self-aware and self-conscious.
You are wildly prolific. This collection is made up of work from a total of seven books, including two that were published in one year, 2016! In addition to these, you’ve published three newer books, including collections in which the stories were written collaboratively with other authors such as prose poet, Jeff Friedman.
What feeds your writing? Is there anything that is sure to stifle your creativity?
It sounds corny, but the words are coming from emotional necessity. I have a need to express myself through characters, and when I’m not doing it, I don’t feel at peace. I do have phases when I’m not writing at all, and it’s never a comfortable feeling for me. Writing is definitely a compulsion, although it’s not always something that comes easily.
Do you have a favorite character among all these stories? A favorite plot?
I’m most fond of both the narrator and the Producer character in my story, “The Producer.” The character is based on a relationship I had, but every part of it was exaggerated and embellished and fictionalized. I had a great deal of fun writing it even though doing so was hard. I had based the character of the Producer on an old boyfriend, who had recently died. I didn’t know I wanted to write about him, and then I did.
What’s next for you?
I’m working on a chapbook about two old college friends who, in older age, find each other and build a sort of fairytale life together. It’s most definitely a book of linked stories about two childless cat ladies who belong together. I’m happy to say that it’s being illustrated by the wonderful Cooper Renner, who is also a great writer and editor.