CONTRIBUTOR SPOTLIGHT:
Interview with Amanda Izzo

Rappahannock Review Interviews Editor: “He Used to Play Jackpot” focuses on your experience realizing that your childhood friend ended up not being a great person. How has your perspective of this situation changed from then to now?

Amanda Izzo: For years, I struggled with the reality of what he had done. As I got older and looked back, some red flags became apparent. This hindsight perspective plagued me with guilt. But at the time, I had blinders on. I was young and never taught how to identify warning signs, coupled with the denial surrounding my friend’s capability of potentially harming others; I would have never been able to foresee what happened.

Over time, I think my guilt shifted into an outspoken determination. If you walk into a room and ask everyone if they know a victim of sexual assault, most hands would be raised. Yet, it is seldom asked or spoken about when we know the perpetrators of these crimes. For a long time, it felt like a unique experience knowing someone who had done this. Especially being so close to him. As I got older, things started coming into focus. Regardless of how isolated I felt in experiencing this, statistically, I am just one in millions. And it hit me: if that is the case, then why isn’t this talked about more?

RR: The title comes from the statement you focused on at the end of the piece. Why do you think that specific game sticks out to you through the experience, and did you make the connection of the violent behavior during games while writing this?

AI: When this happened, it was such a seismic shift. My world was broken into two: the before and the after. The two eras were so starkly contrasted. My life before felt very bright and childlike, while after was dark, confusing, and difficult to navigate. And a lot of the memories of my former friend, whom I cherished and held close, were tainted by the wreckage of the aftermath.

However, uniquely unblemished, I was remembering “Jackpot,” a simple game we played during recess. It became one of the only times we spent together that I could look back on and remember fondly. Memories of those innocent times playing a schoolyard game, unintentionally, became a pillar for my denial. How could he have done something so horrific? He used to be a child who played during recess. My mind couldn’t make sense of the polar opposites between my perception of him and the violent things he’d done.

RR: Your dialogue is very strong throughout this piece. Because you wrote this years later, was the dialogue difficult to write, or did it come easily to you?

AI: Writing this piece and telling this story was an emotional roller coaster. In the beginning, the words poured out. It felt as if I’d exhaled after holding my breath for close to two decades.

But as I got closer to the assault itself, each word felt more weighted and difficult to say. I wanted to make sure I was being honest in the experience, while maintaining a semblance of respect and discretion for the victim. That was a taxing feat. But overall, when I got to the end, I felt grateful for having written it despite some of the difficulties I faced.

RR: You mention in your bio that you have recently started to share your writing after feeling more reserved about it in the past. Is there something that jump-started or encouraged you to start sharing?

AI: It was actually a New Year’s resolution! Waiting for the ball to drop, my partner and I wrote down our goals for the New Year. As soon as my pen hit paper, I made a bullet point of sharing my writing and submitting it for publications. This was something I had always wanted to do after spending years writing privately. But when January rolled around, imposter syndrome started creeping in. I was very unsure of myself and the value of my work. Luckily, I have a really wonderful support system. My family is tight-knit and encouraging, and my partner offers constant reassurance whenever I have self-doubts. They fuel my ambition and determination. Without them, I don’t think I would have had the persistence needed to achieve what I have this year and the years to come. I’m eternally grateful to them for all their encouragement.

RR: What is the biggest shock or learning moment that has come from sharing your stories through your writing? 

AI: Writing nonfiction is similar to piecing together a large puzzle of yourself. You’re assembling bits and fragments over time that have shaped and made you who you are. It feels overwhelming at first; this large project where none of the pieces seem to fit. But eventually, things start falling into place and the picture takes shape. During those instances, I’ve experienced what felt like monumental moments of self-growth, discovery, and understanding. Through examining and retelling my past, I’ve learned to give myself more grace in the present. I may not have all of the pieces in place, but they’ll fit eventually. 

RR: Do you have any specific rituals or habits that you do when you write?

AI: I know writers often have rituals or habits they practice when they write; however, I really don’t! I’d like to say that it’s because I want to be able to create and be productive anywhere at any given time, and rituals or habits tend to limit that spontaneous spur-of-the-moment writing. But the truth is, I just never found any that felt right along the way! But the one thing I do catch myself doing after I finish a story or a piece I’ve been working on is reconnecting with my support network. I always pick up the phone and call my family or spend time with my partner. Catching up with them is such a welcome breath of fresh air from my creative introspection.

Read “He Used to Play Jackpot” by Amanda Izzo in Issue 13.1