Lunch Ticket
  • Current Issue
  • Archive
    • Issues Archive
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
      • Issue 2: Winter/Spring 2013
      • Issue 1: Spring 2012
    • Genre Archive
      • Creative Nonfiction
      • Essays
      • Fiction
      • Flash Prose
      • Interviews
      • Lunch Specials
      • Poetry
      • Translation
      • Visual Art
      • Writing for Young People
  • About
    • Mission Statement
    • Lunch Ticket Staff
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
      • Issue 2: Winter/Spring 2013
      • Issue 1: Spring 2012
    • Achievements
    • Community
    • Contact
  • Weekly Content
    • Friday Lunch Blog
    • Midnight Snack
    • Amuse-Bouche
    • School Lunch
  • Contests
    • Diana Woods Award in CNF
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
      • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
      • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
      • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
    • Gabo Prize in Translation
      • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
      • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
      • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
      • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
      • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
      • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
      • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
      • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
      • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
      • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
      • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
      • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
      • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
      • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
      • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
      • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
      • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
    • Twitter Poetry Contest
      • 2021 Winners
      • 2020 Winners
      • 2019 Winners
  • Submissions
  • Search
  • Menu Menu
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Twitter

Genevieve Hudson, Author

June 10, 2020/ Interviewed by Louise Rozett

Genevieve Hudson is, both, grounded and a force of nature. She is wise beyond her years, genuine, insightful, and fierce, with a hint of ineffable magic. This special alchemy infuses her teaching, enabling her to engage students on a technical and emotional level simultaneously, meeting everyone exactly where they are while encouraging expansion and elevation. Studying with Hudson is a dynamic, immersive experience, as is reading her work. A Little in Love with Everyone (Fiction Advocate, 2018)—a hybrid memoir in which she views her life through the lens of the graphic memoir Fun Home by Alison Bechdel—glitters with beautiful, hard-won moments of self-discovery. Her debut short story collection, Pretend We Live Here (Future Tense Books, 2018), vibrates with a quiet menace reminiscent of Flannery O’Connor (I am not the first—nor will I be the last—to make that comparison), rooted in the everyday while ascending to epic heights. Her highly anticipated debut novel Boys of Alabama (W.W. Norton/Liveright, 2020), due out in May, has already been selected by Oprah Magazine as one of the year’s recommended reads.

Hudson lives in Portland, OR, and holds an MFA in fiction from Portland State University. She is currently teaching at Antioch University Los Angeles’s MFA program, where I was fortunate enough to be a student in her workshop. I caught up with Hudson on the phone in early January.

Louise Rozett: One of the mentors at Antioch, Alistair McCartney, gave this great lecture recently called “The Inaugural Scene: The Birthplace of Writing,” in which he talked about the notion that there’s a scene in the life of every writer that marks the beginning of their writing. It isn’t necessarily what led to their first piece of writing, but more what created the need for them to write. Does this resonate with you at all? 

Genevieve Hudson: It’s interesting to think about what made us start to perceive our lives in terms of story, and what made us want to start writing. My inaugural scene as a writer probably happened in college. It’s a pivotal moment in terms of leaving home, forming your identity, and reflecting on fundamental parts of your life. That’s when it starts to seem like there’s a story or a narrative happening, and that’s when you become curious about what makes people do certain things, and what’s making you do certain things as well. Although maybe that’s more when I started writing seriously. Maybe my inaugural scene comes earlier, when I was younger. I was always immersed in books, and from the moment I started reading and seeing people giving voice to their experiences, I wanted to do that too.

LR: It seems like for some people, there’s a specific moment or encounter of some kind. For others, it’s a shift—their attention shifts to story, and they can’t necessarily tell you why, but they remember the moment it happened. 

GH: College was definitely when I started seeing my life in terms of story. I think that has everything to do with being introduced to literature that moved me on a deep level. It reoriented me, making me see what was happening around me as worth noticing and writing about. Then I began looking for those moments all the time.

LR: Speaking of literature that moves readers deeply, let’s talk about your book, A Little in Love with Everyone. Did you learn anything surprising about yourself when you were writing about your life through the lens of the graphic memoir Fun Home? 

GH: I learned a lot about how I think of and reckon with memory. What’s interesting about writing something grounded in memoir is that you talk to people in your life about memories, which can call things into question. I talked to my mom about my childhood, and her memories expanded my own, which led to me thinking about how my memory is constructed, and how much of memory is a construction in general. For example, sometimes there isn’t an objective reality that two people can come to about something that happened. In that way, I think a lot of nonfiction is actually fiction to some degree.

LR: There’s an essay in the book about the way you’d been treated by some of the girls in school, and how that led in part to you playing football and skateboarding with boys. I’m curious to know what the boys you played with were like, and if you had to do any work to be accepted by them. 

GH: The boys accepted me for who I was, in all of my tomboyish-ness. They just saw me as one of them—a fun kid to hang out with and play with, and I really didn’t feel the otherness from them that I’d felt from the group of young girls that I was friends with. My adult brain can look back at that and recognize that we were the age at which kids start to develop crushes, and I think there might have been envy that I was accepted into the boys’ circle. But at the time, I didn’t have that perspective. I was drawn to boy culture—I loved skating and football, and that’s what those boys loved too. There was just a natural affinity and connection through play.

What’s interesting about writing something grounded in memoir is that you talk to people in your life about memories, which can call things into question.

LR: It’s a beautiful, powerful book, as is your short story collection Pretend We Live Here. One of the many things I love about Pretend We Live Here is the pacing—you take your time with the narratives, revealing rich details about setting and character. What is the relationship between details and pacing, and how do they inform each other? 

GH: There’s absolutely a connection between details and pacing. When you slow down and zoom in on the minutiae, the reader is going to follow your gaze and you’re going to slow the pace down. But it depends on how you list those details—you can do it in a way that drags it out, or you can do in a punchy, directive way. I think a lot about the details that I select when I’m writing, because I want to include only the strangest, most meaningful details. If you’re looking at a crowded room—a bar, for instance—you could spend forever describing everything about it, but the reader’s mind actually fills in a lot of details. When I say to you that I’m going to describe a bar, a million things about what a bar looks like pop up in your head. You’re there, you see it—as a reader, you bring that in. Since I know that you’re bringing that in, I’m free to focus on a few meaningful or strange, singular details that tell you, “not any bar, this bar.” If I give too many details that feel familiar, maybe I’m slowing down the pace in a way that doesn’t serve the piece.

LR: When you’re writing a first draft, do you just let it fly and then find that great, unique detail in revision? Or do you take the time to search for that detail in the first draft? 

GH: I wish I could just let it fly—I do. There are a lot of great writers who talk about the editorial brain versus the creative brain—how the creative brain can go into this deep state of playing, and then later, at a more helpful time so as not to stop your momentum, you bring in your editorial brain to craft things. For whatever reason, I haven’t gotten there yet. My editorial brain won’t turn off. Obviously, I edit many, many times later, too, but because I’m a slow writer, I think pretty carefully about details on the first round. Otherwise, for me, if I write too much without editing, I get overwhelmed. But that’s just my process—other people do it differently.

LR: At what point in your process do your characters reveal to you what it is they want or need? 

GH: I think it’s a give-and-take process. When I start writing, I have an idea of who the characters are, and a lot of times that initial core idea is right, but it’s small. I find out more about them as I write. A problem I had early on in writing that I still think about is differentiating my characters. I think hard about how my characters are different from each other, and by thinking about what they want, the differences start to—actually, I hesitate to use the language of revealing because I don’t think this information comes magically. Even though I’m writing in uncertainty—I don’t do a lot of outlining in the beginning, I don’t know where my plot is going often until I’m writing it—I still do more work than what the word “reveal” suggests. I worked with Alexander Chee years ago, and he gave me this character card that Émile Zola wrote when he was writing his novel Nana. Zola used to write out in-depth character cards for every character, and they would have details that never made it into the book—information about what the characters want, where they come from, what their parents were like, what was in their childhood bedrooms. That kind of sketching is really helpful for me.

LR: You had us do an incredible exercise in workshop where we reverse-engineered the backstory for a Flannery O’Connor character, and it was pretty illuminating. We all got so much out of it. Does taking your students through an exercise like that help you in any way? What do you get out of teaching? 

GH: Teaching is an interesting experience when you’re doing creative work. You’re constantly engaging with your practice, with the questions of your practice, and with the art that you’re making. It’s enriching for me because I get to engage in a discourse of literature. What a privileged thing to sit with inquisitive, curious people and talk about story, literature, and craft as well as emotional resonance, the hard parts, the beautiful parts—I feel grateful to be part of that process. Engaging with students, the questions that you all ask, the level of attention that you bring to your work—it inspires me, it allows me to reckon with those questions myself, and it makes me want to stay on top of certain craft readings even more than normal because I’m excited to share and talk about them. I revisit things, like the Gary Lutz piece that I brought to our workshop, and got to think about those concepts all over again. Teaching brings a lot to my life and my writing in that way. Also, in writing my seminars, I get the chance to dive deep into a topic that I’m interested in in a generative way, and that isn’t something that I would just do on my own.

LR: One last question before I let you go. I’m excited about your debut novel Boys from Alabama—it feels like it’s about to explode onto the scene. The blurbs are rapturous, and it has the distinction of having already been named a book-to-read in 2020 by Oprah Magazine. What are you most excited about in anticipation of the release? 

GH: I’m excited about my tour, and going out into the community to do readings and interact with writers and readers in bookstores. I might be a rare writer who’s an extrovert. I love writing, but you spend years alone with yourself in a room, reckoning with the things in your mind. I’ve centered my life around that process, and it’s meaningful to me, but I love the opportunity to talk to people who have read my book, and who are interested in similar subjects or in writing in general. I find that part of it special. It’s mortifying to some writers, or just not appealing to others, but some are really into it, and I’m one of them.

LR: Well, I’m so happy for you, and I can’t wait to read the book. 

GH: Maybe we can do another interview when it comes out.

LR: Yes! I would love that. So would Lunch Ticket. Thanks, Genevieve. 

Louise Rozett is the author of the Confessions series (Confessions of an Angry Girl, Confessions of an Almost-Girlfriend) published by HarlequinTEEN, and a pilot based on the series that won best half-hour original script at the Austin Film Festival. Her play Break, about the effects of the 9/11 recovery effort on the recovery workers and their families, was a finalist for the Stanley Drama Award, was workshopped at New York Stage & Film, and will be published by Broadway Play Publishing in 2020. She is a graduate of Vassar College and the MFA acting program at The Theatre School at DePaul University. Visit Louiserozett.com for more.

Issue Archive

  • Issue 22: Winter/Spring 2023
  • Issue 21: Summer/Fall 2022
  • Issue 20: Winter/Spring 2022
  • Issue 19: Summer/Fall 2021
  • Issue 18: Winter/Spring 2021
  • Issue 17: Summer/Fall 2020
  • Issue 16: Winter/Spring 2020
  • Issue 15: Summer/Fall 2019
  • Issue 14: Winter/Spring 2019
  • Issue 13: Summer/Fall 2018
  • Issue 12: Winter/Spring 2018
  • Issue 11: Summer/Fall 2017
  • Issue 10: Winter/Spring 2017
  • Issue 9: Summer/Fall 2016
  • Issue 8: Winter/Spring 2016
  • Issue 7: Summer/Fall 2015
  • Issue 6: Winter/Spring 2015
  • Issue 5: Summer/Fall 2014
  • Issue 4: Winter/Spring 2014
  • Issue 3: Summer/Fall 2013
  • Issue 2: Winter/Spring 2013
  • Issue 1: Spring 2012

Genre Archive

  • Creative Nonfiction
  • Essays
  • Fiction
  • Flash Prose
  • Lunch Specials
  • Poetry
  • Interviews
  • Translation
  • Visual Art
  • Writing for Young People

Friday Lunch Blog

Friday Lunch! A serving of contemporary essays published every Friday.

Today’s course:

The Night I Want to Remember

December 16, 2022/in 2023ws-migration, Blog / Sanaz Tamjidi
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/paul-volkmer-qVotvbsuM_c-unsplash-scaled-1.jpg 1704 2560 Sanaz Tamjidi https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Sanaz Tamjidi2022-12-16 16:12:142022-12-16 16:12:14The Night I Want to Remember

From Paper to the Page

November 18, 2022/in 2023ws-migration, Blog / Annie Bartos
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/IMG-7101-1-scaled-1.jpg 2560 1920 Annie Bartos https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Annie Bartos2022-11-18 12:27:332022-12-07 19:27:42From Paper to the Page

Confessions of a Birthday Person

November 4, 2022/in 2023ws-migration, Blog / Meghan McGuire
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/angele-kamp-poH6OvcEeXE-unsplash-scaled-1.jpg 2560 1736 Meghan McGuire https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Meghan McGuire2022-11-04 12:00:422022-12-07 19:11:45Confessions of a Birthday Person

More Friday Lunch Blog »

Midnight Snack

A destination for all your late night obsessions.

Tonight’s bites:

Mending the Heart and Slowing Down: Reintroducing Myself to Mexican Cooking

October 7, 2022/in Midnight Snack / Megan Vasquez
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/jason-briscoe-VBsG1VOgLIU-unsplash-scaled.jpg 1707 2560 Megan Vasquez https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Megan Vasquez2022-10-07 23:55:352022-10-07 19:31:09Mending the Heart and Slowing Down: Reintroducing Myself to Mexican Cooking

The Worth of a Billionaire’s Words

September 23, 2022/in Midnight Snack / Kirby Chen Mages
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/image2-scaled.jpeg 2560 1920 Kirby Chen Mages https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Kirby Chen Mages2022-09-23 23:56:162022-09-23 21:56:42The Worth of a Billionaire’s Words

Abyssinia

August 26, 2022/in Midnight Snack / JP Goggin
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Goggin-headshot.jpg 1422 998 JP Goggin https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png JP Goggin2022-08-26 23:55:342022-08-27 17:46:29Abyssinia

More Midnight Snacks »

Amuse-Bouche

Little bites every Monday to whet your appetite!

Today’s plate:

Still Life

October 31, 2022/in Amuse-Bouche / Daniel J. Rortvedt
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/827C31B5-92AE-4C32-9137-3B4AED885093-scaled.jpeg 2560 1920 Daniel J. Rortvedt https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Daniel J. Rortvedt2022-10-31 11:59:312022-10-30 21:59:49Still Life

Litdish: Writing About Grief: An Interview with Jenn Koiter

October 24, 2022/in Amuse-Bouche / Interviewed by Gail Vannelli
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Koiter-Headshot.jpeg 1983 1586 Interviewed by Gail Vannelli https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Interviewed by Gail Vannelli2022-10-24 11:55:162022-10-24 10:10:07Litdish: Writing About Grief: An Interview with Jenn Koiter

Dawn from Buffy Learns About Climate Change

October 10, 2022/in Amuse-Bouche / Alyson Mosquera Dutemple
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Dutempleauthorpic_2022.jpg 1389 1466 Alyson Mosquera Dutemple https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Alyson Mosquera Dutemple2022-10-10 11:48:192022-10-10 14:29:12Dawn from Buffy Learns About Climate Change

More Amuse-Bouche »

School Lunch

An occasional Wednesday series dishing up today’s best youth writers.

Today’s slice:

I’ve Stayed in the Front Yard

May 12, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Brendan Nurczyk
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/SL-Insta-Brendan-Nurczyk-2.png 1500 1500 Brendan Nurczyk https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Brendan Nurczyk2021-05-12 10:18:392022-02-01 13:24:05I’ve Stayed in the Front Yard

A Communal Announcement

April 28, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Isabella Dail
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/SL-FB-Isabella-Dail.png 788 940 Isabella Dail https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Isabella Dail2021-04-28 11:34:132021-04-28 11:34:13A Communal Announcement

Seventeen

April 14, 2021/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2021 / Abigail E. Calimaran
Read more
https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/SL-Insta-Abigail-E.-Calimaran.png 1080 1080 Abigail E. Calimaran https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Abigail E. Calimaran2021-04-14 11:22:062021-04-14 11:22:06Seventeen

More School Lunch »

Word From the Editor

Our contributors are diverse and the topics they share through their art vary, but their work embodies this mission. They explore climate change, family, relationships, poverty, immigration, human rights, gun control, among others topics. Some of these works represent the mission by showing pain or hardship, other times humor or shock, but they all carry in them a vision for a brighter world.

More from the current editor »
Current Issue »

Connect With Us

lunchticket on facebooklunchticket on instalunchticket on twitter
Submit to Lunch Ticket

A literary and art journal
from the MFA community at
Antioch University Los Angeles.

Get Your Ticket

We’ll keep you fed with great new writing, insightful interviews, and thought-provoking art, and promise with all our hearts never to share your info with anyone else.

Newsletter Signup
Copyright © 2021 LunchTicket.org. All Rights Reserved. Web design and development by GoodWebWorks.
Scroll to top