CONTRIBUTOR SPOTLIGHT:
Interview with Kevin Bain

Rappahannock Review Nonfiction Editors: Your humor is one of the biggest elements we picked up on in this piece. Why was it important to imbue this piece with humor? What are the hardest obstacles that come when writing with humor? 

Kevin Bain: The contrast of sincere effort against absurdity felt naturally humorous to me from the onset. I don’t think I ever considered a different tone for this piece. The challenge was in refusing the urge to use humor to protect myself as an adult looking back. Using humor to highlight vulnerability is emotionally harder than using it to protect myself, but it’s much more satisfying.

RR: We noticed that there is this acknowledged tone of absurdity in this piece, as well. What was it like acknowledging the absurdity of your younger thoughts while maintaining the overall emotional value of the experience? 

KB: I felt unexpected compassion towards that mixed-up little kid and his goofy decisions. Focusing on the emotional state of “Kid Kevin” and the story structure itself were my top priorities when writing this. The absurdity of the situation spoke for itself, especially juxtaposed against the interior melodrama I felt at the time. There was enough emotional motivation behind this piece that I didn’t need to lean too heavily on the silly situation.

RR: Something we particularly loved about this piece is your ability to paint vivid descriptions of things and people. What did you focus on while painting the scenes in this piece?

KB: When I feel something is missing from a scene, I try to focus on an “Ant’s-eye-view.” What tiny things might I miss, but an ant couldn’t avoid noticing? How would that ant describe those things, fragment by fragment? From there, I choose words carefully to reflect the emotional state of the POV character. All the deliberation and sense-memory behind that process results in the language on the page. 

RR: Throughout the piece, you are able to capture the moments of what it’s like to be inside the brain of a nine-year-old boy. How were you able to channel that past part of yourself into writing this? 

KB: Sincerity is key. I had to let myself feel enthusiastic and excited and disappointed all over again, then write from that place without adult filters. Protecting yourself felt like something adults do. A nine year-old generally doesn’t do that. Kids feel their emotions earnestly; a defensive tone probably wouldn’t have worked. 

RR: I notice that your writing has a consistent rhythm to it that allows the piece to flow naturally and comedically. How have you been able to garner and develop this skill in your writing over the years? 

KB: My education is in screenwriting; flow and structure are ingrained into my perspective. Transitioning to prose, I developed my voice by reading my works-in-progress to small audiences and writing groups. The Groucho Debacle was read a few times aloud before taking the shape it ultimately did. Live listener feedback was like getting unfiltered notes in real time. So I’d say that flow and humor were two elements I had to learn separately, then fail at combining, until the rhythm finally made sense to me.

RR: In the end, you hone in on the safety of family. Why was it important for you to end the piece here? 

KB: They provided the feeling of inclusion and comfort that I was seeking from my classmates, and didn’t think to seek from my folks. The fact that they chose to do it in the form of celebrating Old Hollywood with me was just serendipity. From a practical standpoint, focusing on that moment as my ending allowed it to double as a denouement to the Groucho conflict and as resolution to the larger emotional goals that led us there. 

RR: You strike a good balance between carrying the audience directly through childhood events and reminding them that your voice is coming from an older version of you. What was the most challenging part of transporting the audience inside your memory while also ensuring they acknowledged the present you? 

KB: Shutting myself up as an “omnipotent adult author” to make room for a vulnerable child on the page was a challenge. I had to trust that my present identity/voice/etc wouldn’t be lost in the process of respecting a kid’s point of view. That required a leap of faith that I’m not accustomed to making. I’m glad I did, but it was a challenging leap.