What is it like to feel silenced and estranged in a place, but also to find beauty and joy? Building Fires contributor, Elizabeth Bradfield, reflects on her time in Alaska.
Over the course of the three-year project to create Building Fires in the Snow, we sustained our faith in the uniqueness of Alaska and the importance of telling its story through the LGBTQ experience. After sifting and editing the work, we can now see both a little more clearly.
When people Outside think of Alaska, they imagine snow, rugged mountains, sled dog races, grizzlies, homestead cabins and “The Deadliest Catch.” That people would be living up here in an urban context would probably not occur to them.
Martha Amore and I have worked a long time toward this day, so I'm going to run around the house yelling "Hooray!!!!" But first, let me take a moment to thank a bunch of wonderful people.
We've added events in Homer and Anchorage for the fall launch of Building Fires in the Snow: A Collection of Alaska LGBTQ Short Fiction and Poetry.
Building a successful story on the bones of a failed one is like cooking for dinner guests after you've just burnt the main dish. Look for what's already present in the story and combine those elements in new and inspired ways.
This fall we're planning a full roster of events around the launch of Building Fires in the Snow: A Collection of Alaska LGBTQ Short Fiction and Poetry.
Writing for me is a nostalgic act. Nostalgia, from the Greek álgos,meaning pain and nóstos, the word Homer used to describe Odysseus’s yearning for and difficult journey home.