Writer, Juggler, Mom: An Interview with Leyna Krow

When I read a book, I can tell you whether or not I’ll like the writer, especially if it’s short stories. The sense of humor, the timing, the depth of the characters: they all reflect on the writer herself.

I’m not talking about “likeability,” a term that seems to imply characters must be nice. Screw nice. I want “interesting.”

Well, there’s no one more interesting than Leyna Krow. No one. In the whole universe. Read her book, and you’ll know it. Read this interview, and you’ll know it times two.

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I’m Fine But You Appear to Be Sinking

My first thought upon seeing Leyna is that she’s taller. Not that it’s physically possible–when I knew her in grad school we were both in our mid twenties and we’re in our early thirties now, and people don’t tend to grow at our age–but perhaps she stands straighter than the girl I knew: this woman in a soft black blouse instead of a Ramones t-shirt (though I’m sure that shirt is at home). This woman who has penned some of the best short stories I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading, and who is on the last stop of her first book tour. Her first of many, I hope.

The stories in I’m Fine, But You Appear to Be Sinking deal with a world not quite level with our own, but not so magical that any plot point seems impossible. Strange happenings abound. A tiger is being kept in a suburban neighborhood; a giant squid haunts a wayward trimaran; sea life does its best to escape the sea. The end of the world, we are told, will begin with a series of beeps.

The Books on My Nightstand

Every so often, I visit a bookstore and buy an armful of books. Maybe there’s a sale going on. Maybe I have a coupon. Maybe I’ve found a hole in the wall with a great selection and simply can’t help myself. However it happens, I buy more than I can read before the next bookstore trip, or fortuitous garage sale or estate sale find (I’m always looking for books for my Etsy shop but, well, some of them don’t ever get listed).

These books pile up on me. Especially when I go through periods, like I have lately, of not reading. It just seems like there’s never enough time. And reading is so passive–if I’m going to do something during the day that takes attention away from my kids, it feels like it should be productive. In the evenings, I want to spend time with my husband. For some reason, he gets a little offended if I blow him off for a book. Go figure. I guess that’s what happens when you marry a non-bookworm.

But I always come back to reading. I have to make time for it–it’s a part of me. And if my kids don’t like me stealing a half an hour a day to read a book, well, they can lump it. (Seriously: there are times when they want me sitting near them but I’m not allowed to play, and if I take out a book or my phone or a notebook it’s tantrum time, baby. And/or they steal the thing that’s taking my attention and make me insane.) I’ve got to get back to those books. I will get back to them. Soon. I hope.