An Interview with Evan Karp: His Majesty of Litseen

Evan Karp is steeped so deeply in the Bay Area literary scene, that its nothing short of a miracle that he had time for this interview! Until two years ago, Evan called Savannah, Georgia home and had never experienced the glory that is a spoken word event. Since landing in San Francisco, he has filmed over 2000 author readings and covers literary culture as a columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle in addition to regularly contributing to KQED’s Arts and Culture and SF Weekly’s Exhibitionist blog. Most importantly, he is the founder and editor of Litseen and creator and host of the 501 c3-pending Quiet Lightning, a monthly submission-based reading series that publishes each show as a book called sparkle & blink, which he also edits. He is a contributing editor of Instant City, the official blogger of Litquake and always searching for someone to climb the hill with him; more reporters for Litseen; and more volunteers for Quiet Lightning. He lives and breathes the written word in Bernal Heights. We’re glad that he came up for air to share some words with us! - D.B.

1. Can you give some background on your life as a writer? How did you come to choose this career?

Although I write for a living – freelancing without a job – I don’t think I can say writing is a career. Journalists aren’t professional writers; they/we are assemblers and disseminators of information, story-shapers, certainly, truth-seekers, perhaps, full-time fighters for justice, sometimes; in any case, writing is just part of the job. We don’t think of a storeowner’s career as being in the shop, though often that is the most primary part of his or her job – that’s what I mean.

As for professional fiction writers, to give another example, who support themselves entirely on the income of their books, I dare say that a hefty percentage of these people are essentially customizable stampers – they create a basic template or formula and reproduce it with varying details. I think this kind of career is called commerce. I like to think of the process of writing (put as simply as possible) as the development of self. Career fiction writing – commerce – is not mine.

In that regard, I never chose to be a writer. I decided to write because it seemed to me that writing was the most difficult pursuit in that it forces one to constantly develop the self and therefore to remain honest. I chose to continue to grow and perceived writing to be the best tool to that end. Also, I chose to write because it seemed (and still seems) to me that the verbal expression of human experience is the most valuable activity in which one can engage. We are able to find ourselves through the process and to document our evolution as a species (and, one would like to argue, from one species to another); such records allow us to learn from the past and from others so that we can proceed and, hopefully, do so together. This can be applied to individual development too, of course.

It’s not what we do, but how, that’s important. For better or worse, language is the backbone of human nature. I want to support the growing animal.

What kinds of projects have you completed? Did you have a degree in creative writing or journalism?

I created – with the help of many people – San Francisco’s first monthly submission-based reading series, Quiet Lightning, which is now a 501c3 nonprofit organization. Quiet Lightning, as far as I can tell, is responsible for several revolutions: 1) The submission process is blind because it is the quality of work that is most important. 2) We do not introduce the accepted authors and do not allow them to introduce themselves (or to banter in any way) because each pattern of language is a self-contained spell; when they interpenetrate one another in rapid succession, the audience is forced to continually reinterpret the context of each spell. This is dizzying in all the best ways. (Is it the name that grounds us, stamped from the start as something specific?) 3) We publish each show and have the books for sale at the shows. Another way to look at this is that we accept submissions to a monthly book or magazine — comprised exclusively of creative writing (poetry, fiction, non-fiction, etc.) — and perform each issue only once, as though the reading series were really a monthly book release. I think we’re the first people to do this.

I also created Litseen, which serves the Bay Area literary community by documenting readings of all kinds and discussing them, publishing book reviews and author interviews, and providing an extensive video archive of performances. There are now two other staff members and a handful of additional contributors to Litseen and, to date, we have filmed over 2500 author readings… in the past 18 months.

Also, I am the official blogger for Litquake, the largest literary festival this side of the Mississip’. I mention this because, as you can see if you look at my coverage the first year [through page 16] and last, it definitely qualifies as a major ‘project!’

I do not have any degrees. I dropped out of school twice. I am proud of this, and like to think of “my piece of paper” as my lack of a need for one. Degrees, in so many ways, are just crutches, and you don’t need those to get a library card.

2. How do you stay motivated to be creative? Where do your ideas come from?

The desire to be creative is the procreant urge! When I said it’s not what you do but how that’s important I meant that our character is defined by the details of our lives: do we cut corners or do we express ourselves to the degree that others can plainly see we express the wholly inexpressible, that, though we have added every flourish imaginable, we in fact have done so by an exudation of limitless energy, and are, in effect, shaping ourselves through the process. If we don’t express this every time we express something, we lose access to the bottomless well – to the self. (This is called aging.) If we can’t find anything else to do, we should dance until we are needed.

Ideas come from activity. If you keep doing, and you keep an open mind, you will wish that you had fewer ideas and more time.

3. What advice do you have to someone who wants to be more creative or bring more creativity into their work?

Surround yourself with inspiration. What makes you think: HOLY FUCK? Plaster that shit on your walls! Don’t take it for granted. Why would you take something that makes you think HOLY FUCK for granted?

Also: treat yourself like a little punk. Talk trash to yourself. But don’t just take it! Show yourself who’s boss. Do things despite yourself. If you’re getting tired and want to sleep, for instance, perhaps you should try another voice. Is that obtuse? To become tired, I mean, is to acquiesce to one perspective. Role-play yourself. Stop thinking about what you’re doing. Remember (I cannot stress this enough): it’s how you do things that’s important, not what things you do. Let justice be the thing you do.

4. How important is discipline to your creative output? How important is idle time/relaxation?

Discipline is crucial. But so is flexibility. You must not rest until your work is finished (and perhaps not then, either). But how and when you work is another thing. Trust your instincts. You’ll talk to yourself (you’re doing it now, though probably I’m providing the bulk of the words)… make sure you listen.

Idle time is preposterous. In the words of Henry Miller, stand still like the hummingbird. Relaxation – a deep breath of fresh air – is possible through work (believe it or not). Have you tried painting?

A common misconception is that art is something that requires strangulation. If it isn’t fun, don’t do it. Have to do it? Make it fun.

5. What does a typical day look like for you?

These are parts of my everyday: I brush my teeth, eat, sleep, and send out and receive a lot of emails. The rest just depends. And once a week I don’t touch my computer.