Nominated for a Pushcart Prize in Creative Nonfiction

I learned yesterday that my lyrical essay, "The Transfusion of Yukiyo Kanahashi," my piece about memory, dementia, nostalgia + love, written about the last seven days of my obāsan's life, was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize by Jennifer Derilo, the creative nonfiction editor at The Kartika Review.

Anyway, I know that thousands of people get nominated every year + only a select few actually win, but this makes me feel good.  Of course, I'd love it if the reading committee selected my essay for their anthology, but for the time being, I'm extremely grateful to have been nominated for such a prestigious prize.

Anyway, if you're interested in reading my pushcart-nominated lyrical essay (for bragging rights, posterity, sleep aid, escapism), you can find it in the 2012-2013 anthology of Asian Pacific Islander American Literature.

Lyrical Essay about Love Republished in the Huffington Post UK

Different writers have different milestones.  For me, (re)publishing an essay about love in the Huffington Post is pretty seminal.  Considering how many people read the HuffPo, I see this moment as another step in my slow trajectory as an emerging (non)fiction writer, slowly getting his writing out there to the world, slowly building a readership.  So for that, I say many thanks and cheers.

Good Rejection from The Southern Review

I know the slip is crooked (I know I know), but I appreciate the brevity of this good rejection.  I only wish I could make out the hieroglyphic editorial signature.  Either way, this short story has gotten a shitload of positive responses, so I think it's only a matter of time before it gets picked up.  This shit is gonna happen, whether people like it or not.

Microcosm of Hurt

Now that I got my rejection letter today from the excellent liberal arts college Hamilton College, I can finally admit that I applied there in the first place for a tenure track position teaching 20th Century American Fiction + (Ethnic) Literature, specializing in Asian American literature.  There's this weird rule when applying to academic jobs (I think it applies equally to CW jobs too, but I have no proof) that you never tell other people where you're applying for academic jobs.  For one thing, you, your other academic and creative writing friends, a random acquaintance you met at that Upper West Side party two years ago or in a bookstore in Burlington or someone in your cohort, any of those peeps, may have applied to the same job.  In fact, of course they did because all of you want to avoid the ASC (adjunct sweatshop complex).  That means everyone is your competition until you either get the job or the rejection letter.

A second, more obviously strategic reason not to tell people where you applied for an academic job is because there's always a chance---even in the digital information flow---that they don't know about that specific job + if you tell them, you're just increasing the competition for yourself (because most of your academic + creative writing friends are at least as brilliant and talented as you are), which is the last thing you want to do.

On no level do you want your friends, colleagues or talented classmates from your cohort to fail.  You just want to succeed really badly + not advertising academic jobs to other people places the burden of researching academic jobs + multitasking dissertations and job searches on other people, where it belongs.  Still, it feels kinda shady sometimes because normally, I'd tell everyone everything (as I pretty much do on this website) because I want all my friends to be enormously successful because they're good people.

Anyway, the rejection letter I got today addressed to "Dear Candidate," which is never a good sign, said that Hamilton College received 350 applications for this one single position!  Let that sink in for a second.  350 applications.  That's fucking insane.  But from what I'm gathering from reading articles in the Chronicle, among other places, is that as universities hire less + less tenure track faculty (employing more adjuncts to cut costs now that universities are being run more like corporations), the competition for the few tenure track positions that pop up has become unwieldy, overwhelming + even bloodthirsty.

Obviously I don't know shit about what's gonna happen for me in the near future.  All I know is that I've applied to 36 academic jobs + fellowships so far in 14 different states (both tenure track + visiting assistant professorships), which does not include all the query emails I sent to every single CW department at every single Chicago university two years ago. I still have 3 more fellowships to apply to in addition to every new CW academic I can find between now + May of 2014.  Of those 36 jobs I've applied to so far, I'm still waiting to hear from 26 of them.  I'm also waiting to hear back from 3 literary agents + 4 indie presses reading my first two novels in addition to something like 75 literary journals.

In other words, I don't have a damn clue what's gonna happen with my academic or literary career, but barring some statistical anomaly, the exit polls show that this is gonna be a tight race, ladies + gentlemen.  I'm an eternal optimist.  I believe that something amazing can happen in a blink of an eye.  But it's good I guess that I ground my expectations on data + fully understand how brutal this fight is gonna be.  Hamilton's rejection might be a microcosm of hurt, so I may need to build my weight up.

Article about the Irrationality of Love Published in the Good Men Project

Two of my fave things to write about (in fiction + nonfiction) are love + the limitations of reasoning.  In this article, you get both.  Read this piece + you'll understand the strange visual juxtaposition of phallic rockets + a bunch of hearts.

Good Rejection from Brick Magazine

While this is a gracious + thoughtful rejection letter, strangely enough, this is the second time BRICK magazine has told me my essay was both engaging but also "too personal." I'm trying to imagine an essay that's not personal, + I'm having a hard time understanding how someone writes nonfiction without being extremely personal (unless it's journalism).  Either way, I really appreciate the kind words but I don't understand that critique, at least not for this genre.

Dear Jackson,

Thank you for submitting " . . . " to Brick. Although your piece is very engaging, I regret that we must pass on it as it is a bit too personal to be of interest to our more general readership. We are a casual literary journal, and we generally publish pieces on art and the writing life. 


We do wish you all the best with your writing.
Sincerely,
 
A*** G*******-R**

Article about the Poverty of Male Affection Published in the Good Men Project

As some of you might know, after I started my dissertation, I became really invested in the (de)construction, mediation + question of contemporary masculinity, in part because I think we live in a fascinating time in history where gender roles are necessarily collapsing (+ where the push-back becomes even more violent).  Anyway, this time I wrote a short piece in the Good Men Project about the lack of affection between (+ for) straight men, how it starts with our old school fathers, continues with our classmates + male friends + continues until we either confront the void inside us or until we're fortunate enough to surround ourselves with people who are loving, affectionate, open + communicative with us.  If you have a second, you can check it out here.

Memoir about Being a Secret Hapa + Nerd Masculinity Republished in Discover Nikkei

My memoir/essay, "American Otaku" about the life of a secret Asian American + nerd masculinity that was originally published in the GMP was recently republished at Discover Nikkei, a site that explores transnational hapa identity + interconnection between cultures, celebrates community + also provides a forum for hapa + nikkeijin history to be retold + therefore, reremembered.  If you have a second + you missed it the first time around, you can check out my piece here.

Forcing the Paris Review to Have a Sense of Humor

While I admire the Paris Review quite a lot, I've always found the journal a bit sober, for lack of a better word.  And since I'm a punk, a documented brat + I like fucking with people (in the sweetest way possible, man, not in a douchey way), I decided to give them a much cooler SASE so when they rejected me--so fucking predictable!--I could at least laugh at my own envelope + maybe force the intern to shake his head disapprovingly.  This envelope also makes me laugh because I can picture the fiction reader (probably some NYU/Columbia MFA student + Paris Review intern) shaking his head at my caption, thinking how lame it is.  We all know the Paris Review would never send an author such a silly rejection envelope, which makes it even funnier for me that they stuck a (lame) form rejection inside this cute little masterpiece.  To give you some historical context, this isn't the first time I've pulled off shit like this.  Back when college students used to send in FAFSA postcards, I'd write embarrassingly personal/dirty messages to myself, which the Department of Education would have to send back to me to confirm they'd received my completed application + I would laugh my ass off imagining a DC bureaucrat shaking his head at me.  Sometimes I do the same shit when I enter a short story contest that asks for a stamped, confirmation postcard.  I dunno, that's just how I roll I guess, forcing sober bureaucrats + iconic literary journals to be way sweeter (cuter) than they clearly wanna be.

Lyrical Essay about Love Republished in Australia

Sometimes when you write shit down, you have no idea what's gonna be big when other people read it.  Truthfully, I don't pretend I have a damn clue what excites readers--that's why I try to write things that excite me + hope readers feel the same.  For those of you who haven't read it yet, I published a lyrical essay a little more than a week ago in the Good Men Project entitled "How to Stay in Love." I wrote this piece about LB partially because I'm still crazy in love 6 years after we started dating, and partially because the older I get, the more I realize how uniquely awesome our relationship is (+ I should know, I'd had tons of shitty relationships in my life, so I've got a point of reference).  Anyway, Kristin Shorten, an Australian journalist from News emailed me last Monday + asked if they could republish my essay on one of Australia's top news websites.  And I was like:  fuck yeah!  So here's an abridged republication of my essay, "How to Stay in Love" in the lifestyle section of News.com in Australia, along with a few pics of LB + me in Socal + Buenos Aires for your viewing pleasure.  I've also included, just for the hell of it, a picture of the front page, just to give you some context of where my essay fits within the bigger picture of today's news cycle on this website + why it got republished in journals + news engines like The Herald Sun, Courier MailNews Whip + Optus Zoo, among others.  My essay was even republished on a German website called Ad Hoc News with a picture of Michael Jackson!

Two Literary Agents Ask for Partial of Ninjas

After getting Ayesha Pande's email today + a republication request from a major Australian news outlet for an essay I wrote earlier for the Good Men Project, I have to say, this has been a good Monday.  Actually, in the past two weeks, two literary agents have asked for partials of my second novel, The Ninjas of My Greater Self (Kate McKean at Howard Morhaim Literary Agency and today, Ayesha Pande at Ayesha Pande Literary). And as long as there are agents reading my novel, there's (a tiny bit of) hope in my world.  Stay tuned for updates (+ possible mania/heartache).

Lyrical Essay about Staying in Love Published at the Good Men Project

There are a lot of things I'm not qualified to write about (of course, this has never stopped writers before).  But one of the things I feel I'm eminently qualified to do is write about love.  I've been in love more than once.  I've been in too many relationships to count.  Some of them have been horrendous slogs, others ephemeral + dramatic flare-ups, + quite a few fell somewhere in between.  Either way, one thing I'm good at is connected to one thing I believe in wholeheartedly, which is the capacity for humans to love + the redemptive place that love can play in our culture.  My life would have no value without it.  My best writing comes from a place of love (of characters, places, experiences, languages, ideas, etc., etc.).  My best relationships are overflowing with that stuff too.  Anyway, this time I wrote a lyrical essay about my relationship with LB, which the Good Men Project was happy to publish because they love it when men talk about love.  If you have time, I hope you'll read it + tell me what you think about my piece, "How to Stay in Love."

Article about Marriage + Gangster Love Published at the Good Men Project

While I acknowledge that marriage is definitely not right for everyone (fuck, it wasn't even right for me until three years ago when I had a major epiphany while driving shotgun with my friend Lisa through Koreatown), + while I know that even great marriages don't always last, nonetheless, I wanted to write a piece in the Good Men Project that refuted the cultural myth of matrimonial castration for husbands + suggest that marriage with the right person could be a joint Galatea project, a place to actually evolve + grow.  Sometimes, it might even be the most gangster thing of all.  Anyway, here's my piece about the Evolved Gangster in Love.  It's obviously about marriage, but it's also about how marriage can upgrade your own masculinity, the way it can make you stronger, more flexible, more in tune with yourself, the way it can make your more vulnerable, more authentic + more compassionate too.  Check it out when you get a chance.  And since I've been talking about love, marriage + being totally gangster, it's only fair I suppose to include a shot of me + LB to give you some context for my piece.  In the foto, we're in a bar called Millón in Buenos Aires.  I'm pretty sure I'd just cracked a joke about something or made fun of LB in a sweet sorta way.  But I think it's safe to say we're kinda fond of each other.  Pictures don't lie. 

Good Rejection from Esquire

Dear Jackson Bliss:
 

Thank you for sending us " ---". We really enjoyed this piece, but we didn't feel it was right for Esquire at this time.
 

We hope that you will continue to send us your work. When and if you do, please keep the following in mind:
 

*We want stories that feel especially timely and urgent and speak to current events and the state of the world around us.
* We cannot consider stories longer than 5,000 words.

* We ask that you use 12-point font, double-spaced. Verdana or Times New Roman preferred. Be sure your name, contact information, story title, and word count are at the top of your document and please remember to number your pages

 

Sincerely,
 

The Editors of Esquire
2013-08-16 12:27:01 (GMT -4:00)