Sarah Stonich Q&A


Sarah Stonich believes literature is activism.

“I think most good literature takes a look, or a poke, at humanity and the human condition. The books we read subtly impact our impressions, mold us to a degree. The people I know who are readers, or in any way curious, ala movie buffs or news junkies, seem to me to be not just more open-minded but willing to question. I’m writing this from a literary festival, where the keynote speaker is Malcolm Gladwell, who aside from being brilliant is just a nice guy. Listening to him, and to folks like Heather Cox Richardson, I do think,  more than ever — words and stories matter.”

You believe in literature as a form of activism. Do you feel this is as important as ever in today’s world?

I think most good literature takes a look, or a poke, at humanity and the human condition. The books we read subtly impact our impressions, mold us to a degree. The people I know who are readers, or in any way curious, ala movie buffs or news junkies, seem to me to be not just more open-minded but willing to question. I’m writing this from a literary festival, where the keynote speaker is Malcolm Gladwell, who aside from being brilliant is just a nice guy. Listening to him, and to folks like Heather Cox Richardson, I do think, yes more than ever — words and stories matter. Dire times also require self-examination — not just of the great big world but ourselves.

In Shelter you wrote about building a cabin in Ely. Did you find similarities in that process in how you build a book?

Writing is definitely a log-by-log process, but not an orderly one. Building a cabin is much more straightforward. I do enjoy the process of building and making things, even sewing something or cooking a meal, painting trim — because the results are instant gratification, while a day of writing can often leave me thinking “what in hell did I just even do?”

You’re so prolific. Do you have rituals you can share?

I do not feel prolific. I feel like the laziest writer alive. Perhaps because I can only write a fraction of the stories and plots taking up the space in my head.

Your books remind me of John McPhee. How much does our region inform your writing?

I adore John McPhee’s writing so that is the nicest compliment I’ve had in ages. I do prize a sense of place but I don’t limit myself to being regional — in fact I just sat on a panel on this very topic. Most writers I know would love to see the word regional fade out of the vernacular around books. It’s true most of my novels are set in the Midwest and rural Minnesota but the topics are universal. Some of my favorite stories to write have been set elsewhere: The Ice Chorus in Ireland, and my newest, Reeling, second in the trilogy after Fishing!, in New Zealand. No feedback yet on whether I was able to carry that one off, but traveling to and immersing myself in a new place and culture is one of the joys of research.

Was the pandemic difficult on your writing?

What’s a coffee shop? I wrote almost nothing during the pandemic. I know it was good for some of my writer friends who were all like, “I pounded out 5,000 words today!” Pfft. Between the pandemic; the election and January 6; a health crisis in my immediate family, and the daily shit-show that was the previous administration, I wasn’t in any place to write. So much better now and I’m happy to report I’m back to work. Finally. Not in coffee shops. Not yet.

In your new novel Reeling your main character confronts the loss of her grandmother. Has writing helped you process grief?

Grief is so essential, yet no one really wants to go there. RayAnne has to give in to it, so that was a challenge to write, but approaching it with humor is one way to deal. Writing through grief might well be a great place to unload – I’d recommend that to non-writers as well – rant and keen on paper, then tear it up, or fingerpaint and frame it, dance it out, or stack rocks on the beach. Whatever sort of expression brings you nearer to acceptance. But to answer the question, yes, writing has helped.  Also, puppies. I spent half the pandemic raising and training a boxer pup, Fergal, an emotional support animal.

You taught yourself how to write through your reading. Who are some of your author teachers?

Favorites taught me to love language, ala Michael Ondaatje, Sylvia Plath, etc. “Undervalued women British novelists of the mid-century” — there’s a Facebook page and websites — taught me that you don’t need big plots — life itself is the real story. Kate Atkinson, who writes both literary fiction and crime, inspires the notion that writing can be an exercise in entertaining one’s self: that writing the books we want to read is key.

What is next for you?

I’m supposed to be working on the novels that will complete my trilogies. Instead, as I ease back into writing full time, I’m fooling around with a series of crime novels, so for the moment, I’m just enjoying murdering characters.