ZYZZYVA celebrates its 25th year with first-time published authors

November 9, 11:25 PMSF Literary Culture ExaminerEvan Karp

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ZYZZYVA: the Journal of West Coast Writers and Authors

I missed ZYZZYVA's celebration at the JCC tonight, November 9, but I haven't completely missed out on the local magazine's birthday fun. ZYZZYVA turned 25 this year and has been celebrating throughout the year.

Rightfully so, I think. The zine, founded and still edited by Howard Junker, has made a name for itself across the globe as a premier collection of stories and art by west coast artists. In fact, if you don't have a zip code from California, Oregon, Washington, Hawaii or Alaska, you'd better save your postage. Amongst those whose first story in print appeared in ZYZZYVA are Po Bronson, Chitra Divakaruni, Haruki Murakami, and F.X. “Million Dollar Baby” Toole.

I had a personal encounter with Mr. Junker shortly after moving to San Francisco, about five months ago now, and did a little write-up I'd like to share with you. It includes a few interview clips (yes, I've spoken with the man) and some personal background you might find fascinating.

Scene
Saturday, 1:36 PM. A backwoods Georgia Boy with literary ambitions only two weeks new to the golden land of San Francisco – who did not bring a college degree, pertinent work experience, or contacts – sits dejected on his salvaged coffeehouse chair. He has applied to over forty restaurants in these two weeks and not one has replied. Not an email, call, or sign in the sky. Nothing. He switches strategies, queries every local publishing house, literary magazine and writing job he can find. If the job search is simply a matter of one-way conversations, he muses, he may as well speak to someone with similar interests; if he has to go home soon tail between legs – and it looks like no one here will pay him – it’s probably time to try something new.

Surprise
In less than a single day I (Yes, I’m the backwoods Georgia Boy) received an email from Howard Junker, founder and editor of ZYZZYVA. Naturally this was quite the surprise. I went back to their website to remember ‘which one that was.’

Cheese-steak? Sure!
The next day I call. He wants to do lunch, is hungry for cheese-steak. Do I eat cheese-steak, he asks. Sure. I would have eaten anything, even with my last dollar. I was hoping to land the spot of “volunteer” advertised on the magazine’s website. A non-paid position, of course, that could not be considered an “internship.” He was clear about that. Before he called back I was sitting at the corner of Steiner and Union streets, drinking coffee and reading the infinity issue of Opium 8 I got at the Literary Death Match the previous Saturday night. It was possible I’d be working for such a magazine, and soon. The conversation was imminent.

While I was thus flipping through the zine and dreaming of possible futures an unkempt and aimless man happened onto my bench. He asked for a cigarette and I gave it to him. Now. I’m not always nice to strangers, especially when they want something, but I felt glad to be of service to this man in this moment. I must have been in really high spirits. Or nervous. Well, I was wearing a tie – a whole get-up in fact. I think I had my lavender shirt on. The man asks me if I’m interviewing for a job (he overheard me on the phone with Howard) and makes it clear that he himself does not have a job the way I would if I truly believed I’d never have another. I was starting to understand how that might feel. “Something like that,” I say. “I’m actually interviewing for an unpaid volunteer job. I’m just telling everyone I’ll work for free and now I’m interviewing for that chance.” He thinks about this for a moment, shakes his head. Not disgusted, he just literally cannot believe it.

Tough Times
Howard did not have any work for me. He merely wanted to welcome me to San Francisco, as he put it, and his way of doing this was to share some conversation over a sandwich, wish me good luck and wave goodbye. He did buy me lunch, but that’s certainly not what I went for, and I was dejected as we parted ways. I couldn’t even work for free.

Reprieve, Opportunity
Mr. Junker was the first stranger in San Francisco to extend me a hand. Fortunately, this was the first in a string of replies. I think the rest of the Bay Area could tell Howard Junker had given me the time of day — if he had, then certainly they should. First I landed an internship at North Atlantic Books in Berkeley. The very next day I got another response from Teresa Rodriguez Williamson, whom I met and until today was working with to launch a new online travel magazine. She also let me contribute, in the meanwhile, to her stalwart TangoDiva.

Fresh off my first meeting with Teresa I learned there was an exhibition gallery at Mina Dresden (a charming, my favorite gallery) only several days later to honor Howard and celebrate ZYZZYVA’s 25th anniversary. I don’t believe in fate, at all. But I do love co-incidents! So I emailed Howard yet again and asked if I could interview him. He agreed on the condition that I help out at the gallery. Of course! If I made a bad impression on Howard originally then at least I’d convinced him to let me volunteer – something that seems ridiculous, I know, but all of this happened in less than a week.

I think maybe the last interview I conducted was for a fifth grade history report, and I told Howard this. “I'm more interested in starting a dialogue than I am about putting an interview together or publishing a good piece,” I told him, and then fired away a list of various personal concerns. I had done some research since that first day at lunch and realized to a much greater degree who I was dealing with: something in the line of a rogue publisher, someone who has succeeded despite the odds and by his own rules and, seemingly, by the grace of some higher order in the universe.

Amateur
I was nervous. I got to Mina Dresden about an hour early and the doors were locked. I had a cup of coffee across the street, hoping it would cool me down. I walked around and smoked a cigarette. Hell, I thought about Hunter S. Thompson riding in the presidential limo with Nixon – how unlikely this all was. What in the world was I doing interviewing this man?

I can see how you might call my comparison or my nerves pathetic. Hardly. I was just overwhelmed. Howard founded ZYZZYVA and then supported it with his own money before the community stepped in and took over. And with good reason. When I saw the most recent issue (Spring 09, #85), which they were giving out that night, I damn near choked. It’s the finest litmag I’ve ever seen. Not only does it have class but substance too – a combination surprisingly absent in most publications. And the gallery was filled with wonderful people, some of whom had art on the walls and some of whom had submitted twenty years ago, ten years, five – all there because of Howard. They had all returned to support him and to say thank you. I wanted desperately to be a part of this world. Call me pathetic – my pointers are in my ears and I’m sticking out my tongue.

I was smiling most of the time about as much as Howard, and we weren’t a couple of slouches, let me tell you. He’d merely asked me to take pictures at his 25th anniversary – I’d have done far more to honor this man and I’d never seen a single issue of ZYZZYVA before that night. He was wearing his lavender shirt, too – boy that made me happy.

My image of Howard was quite bright after the reception. He walked around shaking hands, smiling, smiling, absolutely generous and humble and grateful. I was proud of him, and I still don’t know the man. And he doesn’t know me. But that didn’t stop him from taking the time to wish me luck. It could just be that his decision has my schedule full, merely 72 hours after we had our first (and I hope not last) cheese-steaks together. I certainly feel that it is, and will never forget it. Well, I’d like to pay him back somehow, and would volunteer for that cause … but I’ve already tried that!

Take Your Best Shot
Having already established my motives for the interview I asked Howard what advice he has for writers with concerns similar to his own. “I don’t have any advice. The best I can offer is encouragement. Take your best shot.” I thought about this in retrospect. Not many people would meet a (probably naïve) stranger looking for some magic opportunity if they had neither advice nor work for him. But Howard did meet with me.

I think I’ve figured this out. Howard personally reads every manuscript submitted to ZYZZYVA and has done this for each of its 25 years. He told me “the trick to surviving is to find stuff that is good enough. It doesn’t have to be great … To find something that is good enough is exhilarating … It's like meeting someone at a party. It's rare to feel that electric charge, but when you do, it's wonderful. And as an editor, you can't go home alone, you've got an issue coming out that you have to fill…”

So he goes out, so to speak, and takes the best he can find. That’s dedication. After all, you never know what you might find in the slush pile. And besides, sometimes encouragement is all we need. Thank you, Howard.

Good News!
These were his last words to me: “I've decided in the future I'm going to publish only new writers, those who have never appeared in ZYZZYVA before. Other than that, I think the formula still works: be open to what’s sent me. I look forward to continuing to fight a rearguard action in defense of the magic of words on the page.”

There are people listening. Speak up!

The reading on Monday, November 9 featured Drew Cushing, Robin Ekiss, Chris Mittelstaedt, Samantha Schoech, Simone Spearman, and Christine Lee Zilka -- all first-time published authors. Thanks again, Howard.

To read my latest posts, click here. For an organized, table-of-contents list, here.