Writing Smeared with Oil: An Interview with brandon brown by Evangeline Lim
I was thrilled to get to interview Split Lip contributor and flash reader brandon brown just after they were awarded the PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers. Their winning story, “Faultline,” which was first published in Split Lip Magazine, was my introduction to his work—and it left a mark. Since then, I’ve spotted brandon’s name many times in our submissions queue offering thoughtful and engaging comments.
After interviewing them and getting a glimpse of their playful spirit and deep care for both storytelling and community—I can confidently say brandon is someone worth following. I suggest you keep an eye out for their upcoming story, due later this year. With a title like “The Moon’s Forests Burn All Your Life,” how could you not?
brandon brown (he/they) (@cedarchromatic) holds an MFA in Writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts—what they call their “MFA in strange stories.” They were born without a sense of smell, and they’re a former high school anime club president, too—feel free to reach out about Revolutionary Girl Utena or Samurai Champloo. Their work is featured in Split Lip Magazine and BFS Journal, and is forthcoming from khōréō magazine. Right now, they are working on a short story cycle about a small town in the grip of climate change and eroded reality. They grew up in upstate South Carolina and now live in Albuquerque, New Mexico, with Felix, their loudmouth cat.
In our conversation, brandon and I chatted about the “world” of a story, his love for games, and his favorite mad scientist.
Evangeline Lim: Describe yourself in three words (and why).
brandon brown: World, play, boundaries. I care a lot about the context of things, and “world” feels like a decent way to begin thinking of something as specific and grounded; I have always loved games, the way that play more broadly can disrupt expectations, and I do my best to make space for that disruption in my life; and for all of that, boundaries are a huge component of my life too, firm and porous and malleable—I like to keep them in mind.
EL: I definitely relate to the boundaries part too. I also love how you picked such unconventional words—it really feels personal to you.
Moving on, I want to say a huge congratulations on winning the PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers for your flash, “Faultline”! It was very well deserved. What’s it like knowing your words are out in the world, being read by others? Would you say you feel more heard when expressing yourself through writing or speech?
bb: Thank you so much! I appreciate how much SLM has believed in the story very, very much. It is a weird trip—I’m doing my best just to be cool about it. As I kind of said in my “Just One Thing” when the story was published, my work has not always been very legible. On some level, I kind of like that! But the response to “Faultline” is honestly an enormous relief. I don’t feel I made a lot of compromises, right, and yet it seems to land for some readers. And a lot of hard work, camaraderie, and intentionality lead me here—shoutout to all of the writer friends and mentors in my corner, truly.
That being said, I like to have a good and clear conversation, and leave my writing to be a little blurry, maybe even smeared with oil.
EL: It definitely landed with me. In fact, I remember reading “'Faultline” when I was first interested in interning at SLM. I loved getting to know Avery and Sam—they felt so real. I found myself really connecting with them, even though so much between them is left unsaid. How do you approach building characters in such a compressed space?
bb: When I first learned about flash, I was compelled by its limitations. And I think the context was meaningful, too: I was in a class focused on various approaches to short forms, like Félix Fénéon’s Novels in Three Lines or Basho’s haibun. We were investigating how the shape of a piece builds to an effect, right? But as a writer, I am always thinking about the world of a story too—in “Faultline,” that means the forest, the field, the school, the game, the menace of it all. I feel like the tension between these things (the narrow window that flash affords, the density of a world) is an opportunity for character, among other elements of a story. How has the world left its mark on this character? Or limited the options available to them? What is hunting them? And how can they affect their circumstances? These are the questions I’m usually asking, anyway, and they shape the characters pretty directly.
EL: Ouu I love the way you look at characters. I definitely will think about those questions when writing my own. Speaking of characters, do you have a favorite character from any kind of media?
bb: You know, I think about Pearl from Steven Universe often, and I love to turn Gon from Hunter x Hunter around in my head. But a favorite? A character that just hit? It’s gotta be Walter from Fringe, the J.J. Abrams X-Files-a-like from the 2010s. He’s a mad scientist, a clown, a tragic figure, all played brilliantly by John Noble. And with no spoilers, Fringe affords Noble the chance to play Walter from multiple angles too—a delight.
EL: Sounds like Walter is a goldmine for character study. And you just reminded me to finish watching Hunter x Hunter, thanks! I want to know how you go about titling your pieces—feel free to share examples!
bb: Oh, with intense dread! I fret over the title of a story as much as its first sentences, I think. This isn’t just about making a good first impression, though, it’s about scaffolding. I feel like a title is where the work of a story or poem really starts, and you have to know what that work even is to title something effectively. I’m a speculative writer, too, and a title can be a very gentle way to invite a reader into the strange. For “Faultline,” I didn’t have a title until I worked out the story’s turn (the volta!), and I pulled the word “faultline” forward as the title to start generating anticipation, which hopefully carves out an arena for the reader to engage with everything happening in that turn. A story I have coming out later this year, “The Moon’s Forests Burn All Your Life,” asserts a few things about the world (there are forests on the moon and they’re burning), and suggests a question: why are they burning at all, and for so long? For a long time, I thought a title should simply communicate what a story is doing. Now I think a title helps light a story’s match.
EL: I agree, a title can speak volumes. Switching gears, I know you're a flash reader for Split Lip Magazine, but I'm curious—what does a typical day look like for you outside of that? Walk me through a day in the life of brandon brown.
bb: I play a ton of tabletop roleplaying games! 😤 A friend of mine recently crunched some numbers for a Discord server I’m in: over the last year, we collectively played almost a hundred sessions for about 290 hours, and I personally played in 71 sessions for around 206 hours. No, but I’ve got some other stuff going on, too: I have an aging loudmouth cat, Felix; I read and write, of course, and have been loving The Weird and the Eerie by Mark Fisher, Temporary People by Deepak Unnikrishnan, and The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. LeGuin; I love to watch TV and film and have recently been hooting and hollering about Andor and Bocchi the Rock; I’m into video games too, and have been working my way through the super fascinating Blue Prince. And in my day job, I’m the program director for the MFA in Writing for Children & Young Adults at VCFA. I got my MFA in Writing from the college too, and it’s been a real honor to help ensure that people committed to writing for children have a rigorous and approachable way to hone their skills. It’s important to me that I have my hands in a lot of buckets, I guess!
EL: Honestly, I think I have about 290 hours on Animal Crossing too, so I totally get it! Also, it’s amazing to hear how you’re giving back to the writing community through your work at VCFA—it sounds like such a meaningful way to stay connected to what you love. Do you have a favorite moment from being program director?
bb: Oh, easy: one day I walked around in an axolotl onesie for a group of graduates. You know, my job is primarily administrative, so there aren’t a lot of flashy moments. But it’s important to me that students see a reflection of who they are in the education they’re pursuing, that there is a place for them inside of it. The onesie’s silly, but if you ask me, it’s part of the mission. (Shoutouts to Jen for finding the onesie in the first place!)
EL: I love the onesie! Okay last question: I just went to a karaoke spot the other day and was belting out Bruno Mars. Do you have a go-to karaoke song?
bb: A wonderful question! There’s a couple. I love “Someone Like You” by Adele, and I’ll never turn down the opportunity to poorly scream-sing “Welcome to the Black Parade” by My Chemical Romance.
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Evangeline Lim (@ev.angline) is currently pursuing English and Media Studies at the University of California Berkeley. She is an intern at Split Lip Magazine and a weekender staff-writer at The Daily Californian. Outside of reading and writing, she loves trying new restaurants, watching romcoms, and her pet turtle, Murdtle.