Anna Schachner in Conversation with Andy Plattner
For The Headlight Review’s inaugural Anthony Grooms Prize in Fiction, we were fortunate to have author/editor/professor Anna Schachner as the judge for the finalist round. She has selected the mesmerizing story “52 Pick-Up” by the Brooklyn-based writer Anita Lo as the winner of the 2023 Grooms Prize.
In this interview, among other topics, we discuss Schachner’s fiction writing and her plans for the future. She also reads from her most recent works. Below is an excerpt from her story “Man Made,” which was originally published in The Sun.
Schachner’s debut novel You and I and Someone Else, received praise by the likes of best-selling authors Joshilyn Jackson and Karen Abbott. Abbott writes, “In the tradition of Alice Munro . . . You and I and Someone Else develops complex characters and relationships that reveal the emotional and psychological truths of secret-keeping. If this is her first novel, I'm already waiting for the second . . .”
Schachner also contributes articles about books and literary culture to publications such as The Guardian and The Atlanta Journal-Constitution. She also was as editor-in-chief of The Chattahoochee Review. Not coincidentally, Schachner is a longtime friend of Grooms. They both are mainstays in the literary community of Atlanta.
—Andy Plattner
“There is nothing to be said for standing in the snow at a burial, wearing black vinyl pumps from the Salvation Army that were molded to someone else’s more adaptable feet. This is particularly true when it’s the ceremony mourning the woman for whom your lover betrayed you. No need for magazine polls with character-analysis questions such as, “Would you still be angry with your man if he had a torrid affair, but his lover suddenly died?” or “Would you forgive the woman?” Blackness, whether it describes the color of your footwear or the state of your heart, is most obtrusive.
From where I stand, he looks like he belongs here, a migratory bird having found refuge among others that don’t recognize his markings. His head is obediently bowed. The tie I jokingly gave him at Christmas, because all women supposedly give their lovers ties at Christmas, fails to distinguish him from those here who righteously wear ties. I’m reminded suddenly of the many rock stars, reduced to beer and Coke commercials, who share my record shelves with others who knew when to say no. I have never been good at choosing charities.
Take note, Father, for I have sinned, for relentlessly thinking of his warm body while hers lies cold. For looking beyond this day and this tree-lined cemetery and expecting nothing. For feeling just the aching cold and ill-fitting shoes. For wanting to see his face and know the truth.”
