Lance Milham

Oyster River Pages: We often think of ourselves as writing or making art, but the process often changes or makes us as well. How do you feel like your writing or art makes you?

Lance Milham: Producing art is daunting. Cathartic, sure, but the process of organizing my aesthetic wants and questions in my head and injustices in my life and all these beautiful emotions people wrongly feel cursed with is a process of communication. No creative choice exists in a vacuum. Why does this character speak like my father? Why do all my protagonists smoke? Why do I write children so nihilistic? Who knows? But the writing will ask me to ask myself, to learn more about myself, as an artist and as a person. There lies a prize behind every slain dragon.

ORP: Do you believe that hope is a luxury, a responsibility, a danger, or something else? Why?

LM: Nothing is truly black or white, but when it comes to hope, I firmly stand with defining it as a responsibility. Hope isn’t something that is lost. Hope is something that is thrown away when the going gets tough. That’s the paradox of it, right? Hope is only ever lost when it is needed the most.

ORP: If you could choose one writer or artist, living or dead, as a best friend or mentor, who would it be? Why?

LM: No one channels trauma like Earl Sweatshirt. Earl, or Thebe, has lived a tumultuous life, full of both opportunity and loss. Between the loss of his father and descent into obscurity, he’s found a new creative wind, more control over his trains of thought, and a sort of introspection that I don’t believe can be taught. You leave an Earl song feeling his whole world. “Best friend” is a complex term, but a mentor, a buddy, absolutely.

ORP: Years from now, when historians look back on the art and writing of the early 21st century, how do you think they will articulate the zeitgeist?

 LM: Bureaucratic. Sure, I assume this question elicits primarily responses regarding social media or identity politics or something in bloom like those. That being said, I see the state of writing, specifically, as in rebellion. The traditional writing industry is changing, and along with it changes aspiring writers’ patience for tradition. Writers don’t want to participate in the charade, and thanks to social media (You knew one had to be relevant.), the underground scene is already forging a formidable network not burdened by tradition.

ORP: What do you think is the most essential advice that most writers and artists ignore?

LM: Writers tend to make corny comments about how they “need to write,” but it’s not that deep. In my experience, writers who make those comments, like a cosmic force is pushing them to write, like they are just some vessel for ideas, rarely produce good writing. Writing is an art, and I believe writers should treat their writing as a craft which they are always meant to improve. Respect that you are a craftsperson, not a prophet.

Lance Milham received his MFA from the University of Central Florida. He writes from his home on Florida's Space Coast, and his work has previously appeared in Soft Cartel, Anti-Heroin Chic, Back Patio Press, and The Pinkley Press. lancemilham.com twitter.com/lancemilham. Read his story “Caregiver” from Issue 4.1.