Kelli Anne Noftle’s engaging piece, “Moving,” appeared in the March Issue.
1. How has poetry shaped your flash fiction? Do you find the two genres blur together sometimes?
I find that they are blurring and bleeding into one another the more I write. This is especially true for my new work.
2. What do you never have time to learn?
I’m too busy learning what I should have known years ago that I don’t have time to learn the stuff I should be concentrating on right now. It’s endless and exhausting.
3. Where is the strangest place you have told that you loved someone?
The places are never strange, just the people I’ve said it to.
4. How has your music impacted your writing?
Writing has impacted my music more than the other way around. I write melodies so that I can sing poems and get away with belting cheesy lyrics.
5. What is the most embarrassing thing you discovered during a move?
Nothing particularly embarrassing. Everything is mostly sad. Standard under the bed stuff: dead spiders, ticket stubs, empty condom wrappers, dust balls, hair bands, lost shoes.
6. How can a city flood into a room?
I wrote that line about Los Angeles. Sometimes the city and my apartment room feel the same–both are isolating. The city washes over all the objects in the room; I’m constantly reminded of being alone in an urban sprawl dotted with people who are sitting alone in their apartments or hunched over their steering wheels migrating slowly down the freeway.