Lucy Jane Bledsoe

Lucy Jane Bledsoe is the author of eight books of fiction, including The Evolution of Love, Lava Falls, and A Thin Bright Line, which the New York Times said, “triumphs as an intimate and humane evocation of day-to-day life under inhumane circumstances.” Her fiction has won a California Arts Council Fellowship in Literature, an American Library Association Stonewall Award, the Arts & Letters Fiction Prize, a Pushcart nomination, a Yaddo Fellowship, and two National Science Foundation Artists & Writers Fellowships. Her stories have been translated into Japanese, Spanish, German, and Chinese. Bledsoe lives in the Bay Area.

Twitter: @LucyBledsoe 

Is your go to comfort food sweet or savory? Is it something you make yourself? Does food inspire your writing? 

Yes, yes, and yes. My go to comfort food is sweet and savory. All food comforts me. I love to cook and, if I do say so myself, like my own cooking, especially pies and pizzas and soups. Food absolutely inspires my writing because of the way, like sex, it is so fundamentally a part of being alive. There’s nothing much more vital than food. My characters’ relationship to food says so much about them.

Have you ever experienced Imposter Syndrome? 

Absolutely. Writing and publishing is an extraordinarily gutsy thing to do. Writers don’t always like to admit this, but it also takes a lot of chutzpah, the act of saying, yeah, I have something I think a lot of people would like to hear. And yet basically I’m a pretty introverted person. I don’t particularly like having attention drawn to me. So what is this, I sometimes wonder, this wanting to tell stories that I hope lots of people will want to read? It definitely feels like Imposter Syndrome at times. 

Is there a work of art that you love? Why? Have you ever visited it in person? 

This is an interesting question. There are lots of works of art that I love. But I want to mention some art I didn’t particularly love, and that’s the work of Vincent Van Gogh. I found it heavy, globby, and just not inspiring. I understood historically why he is important, but couldn’t get excited about the paintings. That is until I went to an exhibit in Paris and saw the paintings in person. Wow. What a difference that made. Maybe it’s not true for all painters, but Van Gogh’s work in person is a whole different thing. I totally saw and loved the transcendence. 

What do you worry about? 

Unfortunately, what I worry about, and have for many years, is a pandemic. I love science and the way it explains the beauty (and terror) of our universe, and so I feel like I have fewer defenses to protect me from understanding the possible threats to humanity. And yet, that understanding makes storytelling, truth-telling, feel so vital and worthwhile. It also brings me the challenge of telling stories about how people go forward together, how characters respond to stress, to all the obstacles. 

What brings you great joy? 

The previous question leads me directly to this one. What gives me the greatest joy are those moments, often just flashes, when I understand my relationship to the rest of the planet, the other creatures, including humans, and all the jealousies and fears fall away. There’s an incredible beauty in our interconnectedness and that gives me great joy. Being outdoors in beautiful places can bring this on. Seeing and hearing other people’s creative work—dance, stories, art, and music—also can bring this on.