Jotham Burrello is a writer, English professor, publisher, farmer, and multimedia producer. He is the author of the Writers' e-Handbook and producer of So, Is It Done? Navigating the Revision Process. Other writing has appeared in literary journals, the Christian Science Monitor, and he's a proud winner of the New Yorker Caption Contest. He teaches writing at Central Connecticut State University, directs the Yale Writers' Workshop and the Connecticut Literary Festival, curates the Roar Reading Series, and is the publisher of the award-winning Elephant Rock Books. Burrelo’s debut novel Spindle City was nominated for the PEN/Hemingway Award for debut fiction. He and his wife raise boys and flowers on Muddy Feet Flower Farm in Ashford, Connecticut.

Jotham Burrello: writer, teacher, farmer, producer, publisher—renaissance man! How do you find the time to juggle all of this, while also running the Yale Writers’ Workshop as director?

I don’t suffer from atrophy, I’ll tell you that much. I am real fortunate as a college professor. I have my academic year that has breaks. If I was going to an office every day, I probably couldn't handle it. So I'm able to pick and choose projects. That’s the beauty of what I've been involved in now, I've been doing this for a while. It is that I can kind of control the projects I work on. And I'm also within my industry all the time. You know that Raymond Carver used to be a janitor and then Carver wanted to have something he didn't have to think about. I'm always thinking about writing and publishing and reading. And that I think it is something that's very niched but I enjoy it, so it all sort of feeds each other. And that's a benefit, I think, for me.

Right now I have two things going. I'm planning the Yale conference a little bit and it starts in a few days and I'm also going to teach. I'm also running the Connecticut Literary Festival in October and I'm sending emails to get guests for that. I'm looking at those writers. I'm trying to do, I think, the thing that flows off, and I have a flower farm, so I have to go out and plant some of the flowers later. And we have three readings this weekend that I got to help with. Of course, as a writer, writing’s the thing I need more time for, I know that you know you as my agent. We got it, I want to have a book, but I just won't, because I do these other things and that's a sacrifice that I'm just willing to make.

I think the other works are important, because I've always prioritized building literary communities where I go, because I think writers, especially, we don't have big galleries to put our work in. I mean, they're called libraries, but you know, just not enough people are kind of thinking in generating and having, celebrating writing enough, in my opinion. So, especially in places like Connecticut, we always have to go to Boston, New York and I was kind of fed up with that, so it's tough. I mean, you work all the time. I always work on Saturday mornings. I get up early, work at night, maybe three, four nights a week. I'm answering emails and doing that. So you got to be pretty good. You have to. The key is having people around you. I need more people around me, I've had in terms of my press that I've had. I've worked with good students now on the journal and they all helped me considerably, and of course the one advantage of being at Yale is they have a great infrastructure—administration, so I can really focus on programming of the festival.

What do you feel the novel form of writing can afford writers that other mediums cannot accomplish?

I always sometimes think of that question to literary nonfiction, because it's so popular, as we kind of explore the past to understand the present. I think of the novel. I think there's just this kind of genre melding going on that writers can use to their advantage and I look at a book like Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad. He actually physically imagined a physical railroad, taking people from the South to the North, in the 1800s. So the notion of your imagination has no bounds. And I think many writers think we're so interested in them.

I have students right now. You know the various stories they want to tell about the story, but I think sometimes the execution of that can get like the railroad tracks—too narrow. The novel can accommodate just about any kind of magic you want to put into it and surprise. And I think, as a writer, you got to continuously say who's gonna show up now and make something happen, and readers will go with you. I think that's everything we know when we open a book. We can handle it. I always kid my students, they know more about three-act structure. You know that the Greeks did. They can watch an episode of Scooby Doo and they know what's coming, and they know how it's going to be done. The readers, we understand that so well, of how things are perceived. So you don't have to get hung up on that, and I think that’s so interesting. You can have a book that was like steampunk and it can be historical, it can do so many things. And those are the really exciting books, I think, that are being published by really imaginative writers. Those books get attention. If you keep writing, you're gonna write better. So once you have that kind of craft figured out…

How exciting was it when you first heard your novel Spindle City was nominated for the PEN Award for debut fiction?

I think Spindle City is pretty much a COVID book, came out right in the middle of it, bookstores were closed down. And I think one thing that you know, from my opinion, I think that the book, kind of got crunched in the review cycle of so many people. I know the book arrived right when people were leaving their offices—it didn't get as many reviews as I'd hoped. So there's a great validation to know the three serious reviewers and writers that picked it. You know, I found out the data, actually—they reviewed eighteen of the one-hundred-and-fifty books. My book turned out to be in their top ten debuts of the year. So that was pretty powerful. And when I heard that number, I really appreciated the acknowledgement of the work that I put into the book and it really felt great. And then, of course, I read the books that were nominated and they were pretty damn good, too, so very August company for that.

“I'm not sure what happens, but I'm much more confident to allow anything to happen.”

What is your creative process like? Any special rituals or interesting writing habits? Do you feel as though your background in writing as a professor has helped to inform much of your writing and if so, then how?

One thing of being a teacher that I'm constantly seeing, different modelings of the novel, all the time. At Yale next week I've invited three writers that were also nominated for PEN awards. I've read their books and they're phenomenal books. They're doing things that a lot of writers are doing these days in the novel—they have multiple points of view. And this is, you know, women writing male points of view and vice versa, and different races. There's a lot of that happening, that can be exciting in published work.

So, what I think about, as I approach my own writing, I'm always saying to myself, jeez, you know, how can I push myself in a new direction? Just because I published a book doesn't mean I still have a blank page, you know, chapter two. I'm not sure what happens, but I'm much more confident to allow anything to happen. I think that's the one thing, and my rituals for me is I always find books that I'm attracted to. And I kind of read them before I start to write. Like I'm reading them, almost a mimic crap, sometimes, but just to kind of get in the groove of the rhythm of the prose. And I think that, for me, exciting, but it's all about character. Write characters—plot is character. I think someone said that, maybe Faulkner, and it's important that you allow those characters to just kind of explore. As soon as the kid puts on his dad's Vietnam jacket and skips school, and then that's all I need to know the subtext is there; I don't need it to be explained to me. So, it's finding those details and then letting characters kind of explore and get into trouble.

How did you get started in running the Yale Writer’s Workshop as director?

The Yale thing goes back to my comments about community. I'd been in Chicago, where you can throw a handful of rice on a Tuesday night and hit five events. And then I moved to sleepy Connecticut, where there's not much going on and it's very regional. So I was up at eight AM up in some city, years and years ago, over ten years ago, I guess. And I would just go to tables at APA. I just moved to Connecticut and I was like, okay you're from New England, all the states are close and I just started introducing myself at all the presses and then I saw the Yale Writers’ Conference and it was new. So I went up to the then-director and said, “Hey, you know, I have a small press, I'd love to talk,” and then I said, “Oh, by the way, I also teach.” And then he sent me an email, literally, I think two weeks before the conference had started, he's overbooked. “Can you teach a workshop?” Of course he didn't want to, he didn't want to pay me as much. I didn't have many students, but it worked out. I'm in the state, I'm not far from New Haven, so I got to know the former director, and then he just brought me on as a faculty member, and then he left.

When he left, they didn't have a director for a year. I think they knew that I knew the administrator so we could pull that off, but that wasn't so stressful. I kind of assumed the leadership, de facto, and then they offer me the job. I think this is my fifth year now, and my primary job is really that I help market the program; I get to book all the guests, which is terrific and then I have to deal with and help the faculty as they proceed. They're all teachers but it's still a lot of logistical things, but that's the story, kind of happenstance. I mean, when I came out here, I got my job at Central, I started this reading series at the local bookstore. And I'm like, who do I invite, anybody? I started going through all the English departments of all the universities, and I invited a woman who taught at Central. She came out, we became friends, and then they needed someone to teach. I got a temporary hire there, now she's my close colleague and she helped me get my job. So, getting out there, it's what I worry about young people today—getting out there—taking a risk of just meeting someone. If you don't do it, you're never gonna get anywhere.

“…it's not a competitive environment. It's no Gordon Lish yelling at people about their writing and raising the alarm.”

As far as writers’ conferences go, the Yale Writers’ Workshop is unique, in that they prefer to only put the highest quality of work forward, when allowing attendees to pitch literary agents. What else makes YWW so special?

Well, we'll start with the agents. There’s too much pressure on a young writer to do something, so that's why we have the kind of agent panel discussion that gets the easy things out the way, and then people that have books that are ready, but I think you have to be kind of seasoned to someone to be ready to that point. And you have to earn it. I don't think writing is really hard. But you know, you need to earn it that way. I think the thing that I like about running the conference, especially, we have a lot of young writers, but that's where they come and draft to get assistance

It is really building community…it's not a competitive environment. It's no Gordon Lish yelling at people about their writing and raising the alarm. I think that's the first thing my mind. I want to give them experiences they don't have—or haven't had—since they took an English class ten years ago. It’s about a diversity of voices that’s going on and that's really diplomatic of our guests to give them a wide range of things. That's a lot of fun for me, of course, the beauty of being together—we're not together this year, but when you're in New Haven or on that kind of regal campus, you get to know the individuals, to get to understand them as artists, and they get to know the faculty. That's really important.

I think to when you can solve most of your problems over lunch, maybe not in the workshop, and you allow yourself to have that time. Our longer session in two weeks, it becomes a little retreat for you. I had one guy one time, an accomplished older man, loved living in the dorms—it was rather Spartan for him, but he just sat there and wrote, that's what he needed. He wrote about 10,000 words in the course of the session. And that was a big success.

I think the last thing I think about a workshop, is something like this—you know we're not Breadloaf—we're not these different places; we really want to meet the writers where they are and not kind of expect them to exceed some expectation. Tom Clancy published The Hunt for Red October in his fifties. It takes a while sometimes to just kind of let them meet you where they are, show them the skills and the one big goal. Someone taught me to teach how to work on this piece, but my real goal is for the next one. Your regular toolboxes are better-equipped for your next piece, maybe not the one we're talking about today. And if they keep writing they're gonna write something better.

“…this really hit them in the chops, so we really need those independent booksellers to get back on track.”

You’ve seen publishing go through some changes in recent years. Where do you see the next big change coming from?

The obvious ones we've all seen is, of course, consolidation of the big publishers, that's still going on. I think it's gonna get worse.

Then I'm really hoping, post-COVID, that the independent bookstores, which were doing fine, you know—they have their own organizations, they have their Indie Next stamp, plenty of gimmicks to keep themselves in business—but this really hit them in the chops, so we really need those independent booksellers to get back on track. I think that's important for readers and writers, too in publishing.

Technology still is the x-factor. I'm still not sure how much more it's going to change. Maybe I don't know how much we consume, because I think the streaming of everything has kind of changed a little how we consume.

You know, you still got to work through the book in English class—you just can't sit on your ass and take out your phone and put your headphones on and sit there and watch something, so I'm a little worried that we're losing readers. Though everyone says we're selling a lot of books, I just don't think young people are attuned to reading, versus watching something. They know a lot of information, but they have very little knowledge, and you get knowledge and empathy through reading, especially reading anything—fiction, of course.

In another sense, what has the book become to Barnes & Noble—to them it's just the ISBN numbers—they don't really know where it's coming from. They just want to please the customer and sell books. It just kind of dawned on me: okay, this has really changed.

“…you want to have a literary agent that sells books.”

How did you find your current literary agent and go on to get your debut novel Spindle City published?

I'm fortunate. First of all, I've been doing this a while. I know folks like you, Mark Gottlieb, so I get to invite a lot of literary agents. Every year, I invite agents to the conference. I think that people have a misconception of this—that because I run this conference and I am a professor and I do these things—not that that's the greatest thing in the world, but the fact is, I have access to people, sure. But it doesn't mean that the writing gets a pass—you have access. I think some people can misconstrue that sometimes. So, sure, I have easy access to agents—I mean, I think they'd be foolish not to open my email, but once they open my email, the writing has to stand on its own. I think any writer knows that.

I think literary agents don't have jobs because they just say no to everybody—they don't have jobs because they don't respond. That's not their job—they're responding to be curious. I think no literary agent wants to open up their email to be anyone that thinks, “Boy, I hope all this work is just horrible.” They want it to be the best unique voice they've ever read and they want to bring them into the world. You’ve got to remember that, even a literary agent or an editor doesn’t like rejection day, but that's what has to happen. You just can’t publish everything.

The other thing to think about: of course I met Mark Gottlieb through Yale, and then he did a terrific job and knew the press that was going to be able to carry the book to publication, Blackstone Publishing. I think when you think about literary agents, or you're looking for a literary agent, it's the one you know you’ve got to get to—you want to have a literary agent that sells books. And the folks at Trident Media Group, who also have a big part in the industry and they're well-known in the marketplace. That's important, but literary agents should have some sort of plan for what they want to do with your book.

“…there's a great community of writers, and they're real artists and creative people.”

Any other advice to hopeful writers looking to become published authors?
If you’re good, you know you get published. All the general stuff you hear: join a writing group, take some classes online. Now it's really easy with GrubStreet and Gotham and everybody. I think that's really important. You want to have people read your work, no matter who they are. My mother, you know, who reads People Magazine, you're used to, but she knows three-act structures. So, different people can give you feedback. I think that's important.

You’ve got to find time to write—you can't make excuses. I think that always cracks me up, when my twenty-year-old students tell me about their writer's block and how busy their lives are…there's always times to write, if you want to get it done. You’ve got to have that trust.

I think there's plenty of opportunity and supportive networks, through libraries and other places, to write. I think you’ve got to find your niche. I was also talking to a woman recently who wants to start a book and didn't know where to start. I'm like, discover right and you'll find a community, and they're out there. Or if you're doing children's books, join the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators. There's just so many good ways to get involved. Science fiction & fantasy has a wonderful community and they're always looking for people to join—be part of what they do. It's about community, though you write while sitting on your ass and you're alone. If you don't sit on your butt, you're not going to get it done. But once you do it, there's a great community of writers, and they're real artists and creative people. They didn't go to business school—they're not assholes.

Can you finish this sentence? I love reading because…

I love reading because it expands my understanding of the world and teaches me empathy. It also teaches me about history, and I love narrative nonfiction. As a writer, I love to study the craft of writing. I love to see what other writers are doing—I love to borrow from it. When I find a unique voice, I get really excited. That’s why I love reading, and I love writing. I love to read aloud to my wife and say, “Listen, this, this is awesome,” and then I want to say, “Okay, how did they do it, ‘cause I want to steal it.”