Mini-Interview with Benjamin Niespodziany

Why do you write flash? What makes it different for you?

I write flash once the poem begins to grow arms and legs. Almost all of my first drafts are done in lined stanzas, and if I feel like there’s more to be said and I need to expand the story or mold a proper narrative, I’ll form paragraphs and run with it. That being said, I always keep it brief. It’s rare that I write something more than 500 words and my comfort zone is 200-300 words. I suppose the divider between prose poetry and microfiction and flash within my writing is less like caution tape and more like a fishing line dropped in a swampy bathtub.

What’s your writerly lifejacket: character or plot?

My lifejacket is a deflating air mattress blown up with internal rhyme and tongue twisters. I love creating pieces around how words sound: like a piece I’m working on called ‘The Indelible Relative’ or another called ‘The Kenosha Poet’. From there, after my mattress has deflated or exploded with words that curtsy in a hearse, and once I begin sinking to the bottom of the sea, I start to (briefly, spastically) pay attention to character and plot.

Writing style: Quick and messy or slow and precise?

Very quick and very messy. I write 5-15 tiny pieces every day, most of which I never revisit or revitalize. At the end of every month, with about 250 pieces in the vault, I skim through all of them and print out 25 or so pieces and fine tune them with a hypercritical pen. Then I edit the pieces back into a Word doc and proceed to touch them up 1-10 more times before reluctantly submitting.

What element or part of your “real life” do you think most influences your writing?

Working at a library! Not only do I imagine what would happen if someone walked in with a licensed therapy snake, or if someone pulled back a book and unearthed a hidden dungeon, but I also check out (and read) numerous books a week. My library has 4.5 million books and a percentage of those are always found resting by my desk, helping me when I hit a speedbump or crash into a thick brick wall. I’m also inspired/influenced by visual artists (via Behance or Instagram) and surreal films (watch everything by Alex van Warmerdam).  

If you could recommend a few flash stories or writers, who/what would it be?

The list would be endless! Okay, instead of mentioning members of the community we all vacate (hi, Cathy Ulrich and Noa Sivan), I’d rather mention those I’ve discovered elsewhere. The short stories of Sabrina Orah Mark and Jen George, for example. Seriously, go read Wild Milk and The Babysitter at Rest. The fairy tales of Kate Bernheimer, for example. Amelia Gray! Also, I know it’s not flash, but please read the new novel by Sarah Rose Etter. She has a great short story collection Tongue Party if you want something briefer, but her debut novel is flash-esque and works so well in short spurts and compact fragments. It’s also devastatingly relentless. Ten thumbs up.

What story of yours do you wish got more recognition?

I wrote a piece about ‘Dr. Sky’ in the Spring issue of Gone Lawn that I really enjoy. It’s one of the earlier pieces in my manuscript-in-progress, and while I’ve tinkered with it a bit (with an updated ending), I really like the version over at Gone Lawn. Much love to them.

Bio: Benjamin Niespodziany has had work published in Fairy Tale Review, Jellyfish Review, Milk Candy Review, and a batch of other ‘reviews’. Originally from Mishawaka, Indiana, he now works in a library in Chicago and runs the multimedia art site [neonpajamas].

Mini-Interview with Ken Elkes

Why do you write flash? What makes it different for you?

I dabbled with writing for a good few years, producing some rank poetry, a sitcom pilot that didn’t get commissioned for a series, and a few published short stories that had a cheesy aroma about them. But pressures of full-time work, a lack of confidence and a fat dollop of imposter syndrome stopped me committing to writing. Then I found an online course based around producing flash. I liked the discipline, the production, the way I could fit it into my life. I liked the way the form’s close attention to language nurtures my poetic tendencies while it also feeds my urge to tell a story. I like the way the form defies simple explanation and still feels outside the mainstream. Necessity and intrigue – that’s why I write flash.

What’s your writerly lifejacket: character or plot?

Neither. It’s voice. And by voice I mean a composite of elements (such as tone, diction and syntax, point of view, authorial style etc) that produces distinctiveness within a story.
I write flash when the voice of the piece comes to me. It’s the thing that keeps me afloat during the story. It’s what gives me a sense of how and where to come ashore.
If I have to choose from the given options, then character. In flash you can get away without much plot, but a character has to change in some way, or as Rust Hills points out in his book on the short story, there has to be movement. There’s where the sweet stuff is for me – when I don’t merely find out what has happened, but when I found out what has happened to a character.

Writing style: Quick and messy or slow and precise?

The writing stage is, for me, a bit like ‘awkward young man sex’. There’s a lot of anticipation before some very frenetic and messy activity, a bit of ungainly flailing and a sudden, swift end. Sometimes a little lie down is needed afterwards.
The editing stage is a bit more grown up. Although I’ve produced prize winning work in half an hour (which has required no more editing than a wash of the face and a comb of the hair) most times it’s taken several drafts and repeated editing to get a piece right. At the far end of the scale is the flash that has to marinate in its own juices for a couple of years before the story reaches the right level of tenderness.

What element or part of your “real life” do you think most influences your writing?

Well, for a start, there’s everything. From the dog with ears dyed blue at the tips that I saw in a park two days ago to the smell of the final letter my first girlfriend wrote. From the sound of my father eating a bowl of cool raspberries a few days before he died to the splashy way the stars show themselves at night in a desert. What I’m saying, in an overly florid way, is that the most influential factor in my writing is an openness to experience and observation, and the ability to recognise potential writing material when it is dredged up from memory or when it presents itself in the moment. These are the waves I ride on in my writerly lifejacket.

If you could recommend a few flash stories or writers, who/what would it be?

Today it is the following. Tomorrow it will probably be very different.

My Jockey by Lucia Berlin

Little Things by Raymond Carver

Mother by Grace Paley

Bs by Eley Williams

Reunion by John Cheever

Roll and Curl by Ingrid Jendrewski

Girl by Jamaica Kincaid

What story of yours do you wish got more recognition?

I never planned to write a flash fiction collection, so I’m pretty happy that the previously published pieces in All That Is Between Us will get a fresh airing, while the new material I wrote for the collection will find some readers. Obviously, I hope for as wide an audience as possible, and that the collection gets more recognition. But I also know that’s tricky, as flash fiction collections aren’t exactly crammed into every bookshop window. So I tread that fine line between being humble and grateful for the readers that I have found, and a grumpy neediness for more.

Bio: K.M. Elkes lives and works in the West Country, UK. His flash fiction collection All That Is Between Us was published by Ad Hoc Fiction in 2019. He has won or been placed in a number of international writing competitions, including the Manchester Fiction Prize, Fish Publishing Prize, Bath Flash Fiction Award, Aesthetica Creative Writing Award and the Bath Short Story Award. His short fiction has been published in more than 30 print anthologies in the UK and internationally, as well as literary magazines such as The Lonely Crowd, Unthology, Mechanic’s Institute Review, Short Fiction Journal and Structo. He is a short story tutor for Comma Press and has led workshops at the UK Flash Fiction Festival and for National Flash Fiction Day. His work has featured on BBC radio and on school and college curricula in the USA, India and Hong Kong.

All That Is Between Us is available to buy worldwide in paperback or e-book from Ad Hoc Fiction via this link:

Accolades and Reviews for All That Is Between Us

“Truthful, revelatory, and beautifully written, All That Is Between Us is a collection you’ll want to read and re-read.”
~ Kathy Fish, author of Wild Life: Collected Works

“K.M. Elkes writes like a fallen angel, making the ordinary divine…This is breath-taking flash fiction at its finest.” 
~ Angela Readman, author of Something Like Breathing

“Whoever you are, whatever you like to read, you need these stories in your life.”
~ Tania Hershman, author of Some Of Us Glow More Than Others

“These insightful and disarmingly honest stories shimmer with quirky brilliance.” 
~ Meg Pokrass, author of Alligators At Night 

Brings a Cheever-esque emotional punch to his stories, married to a sweet, left-of-field insight that is all his own…a masterclass in the heart-jolting satisfaction of great flash fiction.”
~ Nuala O’Connor, author of Joyride to Jupiter

“This was a highly enjoyable collection of flash, a collection often grounded in the everyday but that transcends the everyday in the way of all great fiction.”

~ review from Sabotage Reviews

“Crackles with all the complexities of human relationships, narrative blazes, if you like, that may be tiny in size but vast on matters of the heart. Stories crafted with an emotional wisdom that scythes.
~ review in Storgy Magazine

Mini-Interview with Damhnait Monaghan

Why do you write flash? What makes it different for you?

I started writing flash properly at a point where my novel manuscript had been rejected so many times that I wanted a break from the long form. Then as seems to happen, I got hooked on flash. What’s different for me is its immediacy: it’s a snapshot, a moment in time, a passing glimpse of life, as you drive by in the car.

What’s your writerly lifejacket: character or plot?

Can I have a lifejacket and two water wings, please. Sometimes, it’s character, sometimes it’s plot; more often, it’s voice. I hear that voice in my head and bam, it’s on.

Writing style: Quick and messy or slow and precise?

Quick and messy, including literal messiness. Sometimes when I look back at my notes, I can’t read my own writing. I’ve been known to take photos of my scrawls and ask for help in deciphering. Editing is where I’m slow and precise. I especially enjoy the challenge of cutting something down or carefully selecting words to meet a micro word limit.

What element or part of your “real life” do you think most influences your writing?

Motherhood, grief, loss, feeling like an outsider. I’ve learned that my best flash stories have an element of truth at their core. That truth may have been altered, tweaked, and polished, but it’s there.

But random things can also spark an idea – walking the dog, road kill, something I overhear in the street: add some ‘what if’ for kindling and I’m off.

If you could recommend a few flash stories or writers, who/what would it be?

I’m going to be a bit cheeky and instead recommend a literary journal that is near and dear to my heart – FlashBack Fiction. Our timeline is replete with cracking stories and I’d encourage your readers to dive in. What’s more, I’d love it if they submitted a historical flash to us.

What story of yours do you wish got more recognition?

Honestly, Tommy, I’m grateful if people read any. Shout out to the super supportive flash community on Twitter who read and share my stories.

That said, I have a soft spot for the teenage girls in my micro ‘The Weather Girls.’ It won the Spider Road Press flash competition, but was published only in their subscriber newsletter. I’d love more people to read it someday.

BIO: Damhnait Monaghan was born and grew up in Canada but now lives in the U.K. Her flash fiction has won or placed in various competitions and is widely published and anthologised. Her writing has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfictions. Her flash pamphlet, ‘The Neverlands’ is out now with V. Press. She’s an Editor at FlashBack Fiction and tweets @Downith.

Mini-Interview with Evan James Sheldon

Why do you write flash? What makes it different for you?

 I don’t have a lot of time. Right now, I’m working four different jobs (all part-time, it’s not as crazy as it sounds) and my wife and I have a newborn. When I make time to write, it is really satisfying to be able to complete something. Then, I can make a pass at editing in a different sitting, and then another, and so on. I heard some excellent advice to always finish the scene. I need that momentum to help carry me through and discover what it is I am really writing about. Once I discover that bit, my interest wanes, and if I’m not interested you know the reader won’t be. 

What’s your writerly lifejacket: character or plot?

 Neither? That’s not a fair answer, I know, but what really brings me into the story is something weird. Sometimes it’s a character trait, sometimes it’s a strange event, but that is what tends to get me going. That said, once I’m in there, it is all about character. I’ve tried the other way and it always falls apart or feels forced, like I’ve gotten ahead of myself. I think that I need to be able to experience whatever strangeness is going on with the character and let the story grow from there. 

Writing style: Quick and messy or slow and precise?

 Definitely quick and messy. I carry a notebook in my back pocket and will text myself little tidbits or ideas. I let all of that build until there is something that I can’t get beyond, like an image that I have to reckon with. Then I’ll take a run at it. Most of the time I get somewhere and then can go back and edit the pieces together and bolster the themes that I see appearing. That is a fun part for me because I know that I’m getting close. 

What element or part of your “real life” do you think most influences your writing?

 Relationships, particularly family relationships, have always trickled their way into my writing, often when I don’t even intend them to. Now that we have little one, I am so curious how that will influence my work. I probably won’t know or be able to point to another moment that feels so crucial to how I interact with the world, even if I can’t see how it is playing out quite yet. 

 If you could recommend a few flash stories or writers, who/what would it be?

 I love Lydia Davis, Kathy Fish, Meg Pokrass, Cathy Ulrich. I read a piece by Christopher Allen in Longleaf Review a while back that I can’t stop thinking about. We, by we I mean F(r)iction, recently published a piece by Kim Chinquee that is so short and so perfect. Ludmilla Petrushevskaya’s collections are probably my favorite books I own, and Calvino’s Invisible Cities changed how I thought about writing. Joy Williams’s 99 Stories of God should be required reading. There’s more, but if you are looking to get into reading or writing flash any and all of these writers will amaze you. 

What story of yours do you wish got more recognition?

 I had a story come out with Fictive Dream a while back that I really loved. It has a structure that I was experimenting with that I think gave the ending a lot of force. It’s about a girl who is being chased by horses that only she can see. 

BIO: Evan James Sheldon’s work has appeared most recently in Foliate Oak,Gone LawnNew Plains Review, and Queen Mob’s Tea House. He is a Senior Editor for F(r)iction and the Editorial Coordinator for Brink Literacy Project. You can find him online at

Mini-Interview with David Drury

Why do you write flash? What makes it different for you?

I like getting to the point. I like starting fast and finishing in a short amount of time so I can do it all over again as soon as possible. Once I have started, the however, the writing happens very slowly, or at least it feels that way. Keeping the whole beginning-middle-end thing brief really helps.  I could write more, I suppose. I could turn micro-fiction into a short story or a short story into a novel, but why? I like more, but for me more doesn’t mean paragraphs, pages, scenes or chapters. It doesn’t mean sitting around inside of one long story. It means writing more stories. New stories. New settings, new voices, new pants with cake on them, new lightning in a bridle, new black holes, new crushes, new tricks. New ways to turn things upside down. New ways to spell hope. If a story asks to be longer than a few pages, I will listen, but I need a reason.

Flash is a house in a tree hardly big enough for one sleeping bag, but the windows go all the way around and the roof is a skylight, and the stars are out. Writers talk about their appreciation for the restraints of the form. I like those fine. I also like the freedom. Not freedom from something but freedom in aid of something. Flash might be a puddle wide, but it is capable of going all the way down, like a rope ladder or a well or one of those waterslides that takes the heads off of children. 

In the future, flash fiction will be the primary form of communication. On the way out the door, you’ll ask your spouse what they might need from the store, and your spouse will answer with a short story. The short story they tell you in less than a few minutes will bring about two changes. First, it will imprint itself on your heart in a way that opens you to receive love in ever new ways, and secondly, it will let you know in no uncertain terms that you should pick up butter, the good kind of bread, and something strong to drink, like someone’s coming over and we all have reason to celebrate.

In the New Testament, whenever someone turned to Jesus with a serious question, he answered with flash fiction. Just saying.

What’s your writerly lifejacket: character or plot?

I don’t think character is the thing—I spend more time looking at what my characters are looking at. But it’s not plot either. When I start thinking about plot all the blood drains from my body and my breathing gets shallow.

I think my writerly lifejacket is paradox. Not like confusion or some dumb riddle, or things being cancelled out, but the search for balance when we spend so much of our life under all this weight of imbalance. Paradox is raising questions and scratching around for the answers. What would happen if a Disney Cruise Ship full of grandmas in white shorts disappeared from the sea and reappeared high in the Andes mountains? How might a room full of houselamps gossip about the sun? Why does life come from death? What do a lake and an onion have in common as it relates to the cosmos? –In my opinion paradox holds the clues to where we come from, where we are going, and how we can best get there. Flash fiction is perhaps best suited to engage paradox. With flash, readers allow their standards for what is a story to slide. And where there is a slide, there is an exposed hillside. And a good student of geology knows that if you look to an exposed hillside, you might find an entire skeleton or a vein of gold.

Writing style: Quick and messy or slow and precise?

Most of my stories get their start from a daily writing exercise, essentially an 11-minute, 400-word free-for-all burst of typing. The exercise for me is an unlocking, an unleashing, a bloodletting. Like pulling the sink stopper on a head full of water. Once I isolate an idea from the middle of that rinse, I set it inside a spoon and turn up the heat and to see how the thing wants to melt. I stare at words. I remove a single comma. I put it back in.

What element or part of your “real life” do you think most influences your writing?

Lately it has been the search for healing in my family of origin. But more generally it is the places where people/humanity intersect the spiritual/mystical—religion, outer space, death, the supernatural, inanimate objects, the afterlife. Writer and Franciscan Friar Richard Rohr said “Metaphor is the only language available to religion because it alone is honest about mystery.” I’m a preacher’s son who is trying to finally be honest about mystery.

If you could recommend a few flash stories or writers, who/what would it be?

Charles Simic, Mary Ruefle, Russell Edson, Albert Goldbarth, Kay Ryan, Kirsty Logan, Seamus Heaney, William Brohaugh, Avital Gad-Cykman, Alexander Weinstein, Kelly Cherry, Zuleema Renee Summerfield. I realize many of these are considered poets. Where they set aside the use of line breaks I like their work best.

What story of yours do you wish got more recognition?

Trick question. I can’t say there is one story for which the response was notably underwhelming as compared to any other story. I always get a few likes, a few retweets, and one new follower. For print publications—silence. Nevertheless, the story that first popped into my head when I read this question was one called The Lake and the Onion. But the weird thing is that The Lake/Onion story has gotten way more “recognition” than my other stories (first published in ZYZZYVA and then Best American Nonrequired Reading 2019). I think the story came to my mind because not because I want recognition, but because I want to know what people think. I want them to talk about it—to me, to each other, whatever. I am curious if someone can tell me something about my story I don’t already know. I’ll bet they can. That’s what I want.

BIO: David Drury lives in Seattle, Washington. He is the son of a preacher man, and earned a master’s degree in Christian Studies from Regent College, University of British Columbia. He co-starred in a rock-and-roll film set in Tokyo, Japan (Big in Japan 2014) and co-wrote the soundtrack. He counted cards on the notorious Church Team, as seen in the documentary film Holy Rollers: The True Story of Card Counting Christians. He has been kicked out of every casino in Las Vegas. His fiction has been broadcast on National Public Radio and been published in Best American Nonrequired Reading (2003, 2019), ZYZZYVA, Matchbook, Atticus Review, Pidgeonholes, Paper Darts, Monkeybicycle, Cheap Pop, Jellyfish Review, Lost Balloon, Scablands Books, 100 Word Story, New Flash Fiction Review, Best Christian Short Stories, Tiny House Magazine and others. His fiction can be found

Mini-Interview with Andrew Roe

Why do you write flash? What makes it different for you?

When I started writing flash it was mostly out of necessity. I was struggling to finish a novel and even traditional length short stories felt daunting. I was a new parent, working full time, with a long drive/commute. My time was limited and so I began writing flash. The sense of completion was very fulfilling, but I also really came to love the form—what makes it different for me is the challenge, the possibility of saying so much in so little space.

What’s your writerly lifejacket: character or plot?

That’s an easy one: character. I like to say plot is my kryptonite. I think I’m getting better.

Writing style: Quick and messy or slow and precise?

Slow and precise—that’s me. I labor over sentences, syllables, commas, em dashes, the sound/feel/look of certain letters when juxtaposed against other letters. It takes longer to get a first draft, but usually—usually—it’s a fairly solid first draft. I’m a turtle. I try to focus on achieving momentum—no matter how large or small—every day. Or every week. My writing time lately has been pretty minimal.

What element or part of your “real life” do you think most influences your writing?

It’s an obvious answer, but it’s true—I’d have to say being a parent and having a family. It does change how you navigate and view the world, and if you’re squeezing in writing fiction in addition to family life and work and anything else, it forces you to focus and maximize any writing time you have. There’s no later; there’s no putting it off until the moment is right and you find the ideal writing conditions; there are no writing conditions except having a desire and compulsion to write and keep writing.

If you could recommend a few flash stories or writers, who/what would it be?

Wow. So many. I’m just going to start listing without thinking about it too much…

“Three Things You Should Know About Peggy Paula” by Lindsay Hunter

“The Once Mighty Fergusons” by Kathy Fish

“Baby Arm” by Roxane Gay

“Wants” by Grace Paley

“Forever Overhead” by David Foster Wallace

And some writers who do flash: Joy Williams, Lucia Berlin, Deb Olin Unferth, Josh Denslow, Meg Pokrass, Ethel Rohan, Robert Vaughn, Len Kuntz, Kim Chinquee, Heather Fowler, Lauren Becker, Ben Loory, Sara Lippmann…

What story of yours do you wish got more recognition?

I feel like I’ve been very lucky and have been able to place stories in various publications. One of my favorite stories—and I think one of my best—is “A Matter of Twenty-Four Hours.” It appeared in Glimmer Train and it’s in my collection Where You Live. So I can’t really complain about recognition. But I’d love it if more people found their way to this story.

BIO: Andrew Roe is the author of the novel The Miracle Girl, a Los Angeles Times Book Prize finalist, and Where You Livea collection of short stories. His short fiction has appeared in Tin House, One Story, The Sun, Glimmer Train, The Cincinnati Review, and other literary magazines, as well as the anthologies Where Love Is Found (Washington Square Press) and 24 Bar Blues (Press 53). In addition, his essays and reviews have appeared in The New York Times, San Francisco Chronicle,, Writer’s Digest, and other publications. He lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with his wife and three children. For more information, visit

Mini-Interview with William Gilmer

Why do you write flash? What makes it different?
There can be a sort of freedom in limits. A story that’s thousands of words long is going to have expectations about depth, character progression, detailed settings, etc. and flash doesn’t need to be bothered with all of it. When facing a short word count, you just don’t have the time to develop huge sprawling word-scapes or plots that weave the reader through a dozen twists and turns. Flash allows you to hyper focus on the idea or concept that brought you to the page in the first place. I love that can sit down and say, “I want the reader to feel this,” and fully concentrate on that one aspect. I have had a lot of ideas that wouldn’t be able to support pages of story but that work perfectly in the flash arena.
Flash forces us to distill a story down to its best, most critical, parts. It’s the difference between sipping a few fingers of bourbon and drinking a mug of beer. Ideally, you’re going to end up in the same place, one is just going to be a quicker, more intense, ride.  
What’s your writerly lifejacket: character or plot?
Wow, how can you choose? I think we all want to see interesting characters doing interesting things, but if there’s a gun to my head, I have to say characters. I can think of dozens of flash pieces that amount to little more than two characters talking. Maybe they’re two robots roaming Earth after the apocalypse, or a wife visiting her husband on his death bed, if they are characters you can feel for, can root for, then it doesn’t really matter to me what they are doing. The reverse is not usually true for me. I have seen too many great scenarios ruined by hollow or cardboard characters.

Writing style: Quick and messy or slow and precise?
 There’s no doubt that I’m a member of the turtle writer’s club. Is slow and messy an option? I tend to plot things out very carefully when the time comes to get everything on paper. I’m the kind of person that will let a story ride around in my head for weeks or even months until I think I have it all figured out. Fermentation has its benefits, as long as you can be patient.
What element or part of your “real life” do you think most influences you?
  I would be lost without music! Music, for me, is a great way to get in touch with the emotions I want to present in a piece. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to mimic, or represent, the feelings I get for certain pieces of music with words. Sometimes all it takes is a simple melody to get my head into the right “tone” for a particular story. I’ve gone so far as to listen to different music for different characters or scenes in the same piece. The right song can really help get me into the right head-space.  
If you could recommend a few flash stories or writers, who/what would it be?
My Husband is Made of Ash – By Jennifer Todhunter. While everything that Jennifer Todhunter puts out is amazing, this piece has always had a place in my heart.

For Our Light Affliction – By Stephen S. Power. I have a soft spot for crafty Satan characters, and the ending is so “Good Omens”-esque! There probably isn’t a month that goes by that this piece doesn’t pop into my head for one reason or another.

Offspring – By Brenda Anderson. This piece is pure absurdity and I love every word of it! This story taught me that you can do anything in flash, the only limits on our imaginations are the ones we put there ourselves.

 What story of yours do you wish got more recognition?
Wow, that’s a hard one. I appreciate every eye that finds its way to something I’ve written, so I’m never disappointed by any amount of recognition! Back in 2017 The Sunlight Press was gracious enough to publish a piece of mine titled “Sambuca Zen”. The story didn’t gain much traction, which I always chalked up to the fact that it was off genre for me. This was the first non-speculative piece that I had released into the world. While I’m not sure how much recognition it deserves, it will always be something that I’m very proud of.

BIO: Will Gilmer is a writer and poet living in Metro-Detroit. Over two dozen of his stories have appeared in print and online. When he’s not putting his thoughts on paper you can find him piddling in a garden, brewing beer, or practicing for he and his wife’s imaginary appearance on The Great British Bake Off. If there isn’t enough going on in your feed, follow him on Twitter @willwritethings. BIO: