April 2026

A Poem on My Mind

epithalamelegy by Nate Marshall

When I was a kid, after the required stint of replying “marine biologist” or “zookeeper,” I consistently answered the question of what I wanted to be when I grew up with the same answer: a teacher. That I became one still kind of feels like I won the lottery. When I first began teaching, I was a TA for honors classes while still a college student, and what separated me from the others in the classroom wasn’t a title or a degree but just experience and a willingness to work with them. And, even though I’ve changed a fair amount in some ways since then, I still primarily think of myself as a writer-alongside-other-writers or a student-alongside-other-students when I’m in the classroom.

That’s part of why it’s surprising to me when I notice things about my teaching, when I hear myself repeating the phrases or questions that have stayed with me, the inquiries my writer-self continues to make from year to year with my students. Those consistent interests are often things I find difficult to do well or things that never cease to delight or surprise me when they happen in a poem: how to use a title well in relation to what the poem then does, how to negotiate a reader’s trust and attention with various and varied structural choices, the ethical choices inherent in knowing that what I choose to publish will (hopefully) be read by others, placed into their voices and breath. This spring, one thought I’ve realized I come back to from one poetry workshop to another is how blurred the line is between an elegy and a love poem, which I think this poem, published just this past autumn, enacts particularly well.

I was a fiction student in the McCormack Writing Center’s Winter Workshop last month (more on that below). As a student I got to attend Q&As and craft talks from all the teachers regardless of genre, and I was lucky enough to sit in on a few from Nate Marshall who was teaching one of the poetry workshops and whose first two books I’ve read a few different times. In one of his talks, he said that our work doesn’t mean anything to anyone else until maybe later on, but that for now, as writers, the value of the work we do has to come from ourselves; as he said, “the devotion has to be yours.”

And then to go read this poem from him, a combination of an epithalamium (a wedding poem) and an elegy (a mourning poem), a poem centered on that both-ness of love and grief. It had me asking: what do we choose to do with childhood friendships once we’re adults, when we look around and realize we’re both still those kids and not? What do we do with the versions of ourselves and the versions of our friends that we remember, even if no one else does? How have those versions made the people we are now, and how do we allow ourselves to love those versions even as we change with all that’s happened since?

We should all go read some more Nate Marshall poems.

My Own Writing Process

McCormack Writing Center & the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow

Earlier this spring, I had the luck to be part of a fiction workshop led by Lydi Conklin for the McCormack Writing Center (formerly the Tin House Writers Workshop). It was such a fantastic experience to be in a room with such smart people, talking about fresh drafts - it was truly energizing. And new, for me!, to be bringing fiction to a workshop whatsoever. I’ve taken a few weeks away from the story I turned in, but I can already feel the desire to go back to it and finish it up.

If you have ever thought about doing the McCormack Writing Center, I can’t recommend it enough! We had panels with editors, writers, and agents in the month leading up to the workshop itself, one-on-one meetings with agents, a really active Slack/texting camaraderie through various interest groups, tons of readings and amazing craft lectures to attend, and, over the course of just a week on Zoom, we somehow really connected with the workshop groups we were in. I have two group threads of different folks still running over a month later and a few people from various workshop groups are swapping stories still, too. I know they have other opportunities throughout the year like their summer conference, residencies, and craft classes, but as a four-year old’s dad I signed up for the winter online workshop, and it was a full-throatedly rigorous, connecting experience.

One last (but the most important) pitch, please read these phenomenal writers from my group: Lydi Conklin, Lauren Ferebee, Jake Johnson, Mic Jones, Aaron Golding, Tobin Low, Sara Mae, Gillian Osborne, & Sarah Woo.

Then, over spring break, I drove to Eureka Springs, Arkansas for a writing residency with the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow. Having that week to dig through my stacks of poems was such a great way to reconnect with that part of my brain in the midst of my first semester back to teaching after sabbatical. I did a last read of a full-length manuscript and started sending it out, did the same with a chapbook manuscript, put a first draft together of a different project, and did a bunch of research, too. It was a really productive but also grounding week (and I’m eternally grateful to my wife Ellen and her parents for taking care of Adria for a week without me so I could get away).

The residency made each of the writers feel really well-supported with separate suites in two neighboring buildings, a fully stocked kitchen, delicious group dinners every night, and larger shared spaces for when you need to get out of your room. I can’t recommend it highly enough, and as a parent it’s really helpful that once you’ve passed their vetting process you can book stays for whatever days they have open (whether a week, three days, two weeks, etc.) [Also, if you’re a food writer of any stripe, they’re the only residency I’ve heard of with a suite made for food writers, fully equipped with a kitchen!]

Again, it’s incredible how quickly you can get to know people you only see at dinner each night! By day two I was chatting with the director while I made myself some lunch and by night three the poets were swapping poems in the dining room.

Editing Updates

s w i f t s: a literary magazine issue two!

I couldn’t be happier to feature the work of Ryan Collins, Paul Hostovsky, Frances Klein, Lauren Mallett, Kristi Maxwell, and Gary McDowell in issue two of s w i f t s: a literary magazine this spring!

If you have writing of your own that you’re submitting, consider sending it our way. We’re always open for free submissions, and here’s where you can find all the info.

Editing Updates - Sneak Peak Edition!

At the Center: On Books & Writing

Lastly, here’s a bit of a sneak peek for the next accumulate/quiet project:

At the Center: On Books & Writing will be a site for reviews, interviews, book coverage, and author resources in the vein of websites like Entropy’s Where to Submit List, The Millions, the Poetry Bulletin, and The Bind when they were all active resources that were free to read and use.

In a book world landscape without much space for reviews but with so many fantastic, fascinating, underrepresented books and authors who deserve coverage, we hope this is a small step toward fostering the kind of healthy literary ecosystem we want to have, and we hope to publish pieces as creative and engaging as the books they discuss.

The original coverage on the site will be able to be republished by newspapers, universities, bookstores, or other arts organizations who may otherwise lack the staffing to do their own coverage of their local arts scenes. And, in addition, we will have a huge set of resources for authors all in one place: magazines where you can send work, presses who might publish your book, residencies and fellowships to support your writing - all the deadlines you need to know.

While we haven’t officially started publishing yet, I wanted to let you know what’s coming. If you want to get all the book coverage and author resources once they’re live, you can subscribe to this newsletter. And if you’re a book person now’s a good time for you to send us reviews and interviews or pitch us ideas before we’re fully off to the races. Please look over our guidelines here and you can follow us on Instagram and Bluesky too.

A Final Note

I really appreciate all of you, and I look forward to writing again soon. Please leave a comment, reply to this email, share it with people you think would enjoy it, or send me a note in some other way just to say hi (hi!)

Wishing you all the best things.

-Jeremy