Edward Kline is a short story writer and poet. He resides in Boston, Massachusetts.
"The Most Egregious Crook" (below) was featured in the inaugural issue.
Do you have a process?
I do, yes. Sort of, anyway. Part of my process is everything has to be handwritten on paper first. I know some writers who can do all their work electronically and I absolutely cannot. I need to be able to scribble, cross out, doodle even as I am thinking about what it is I am trying to say in certain short stories or poems that I am crafting. So it goes from pen and paper, to a Google Drive where I tinker further - and then read aloud at least 12 times to make sure it doesn't sound or seem clunky - and then over to Megan here at Red Planet for consideration!
Do you get writer's block? How do you "un-block"?
Oh, boy, do I ever get writer's block. It's so bad sometimes when it happens but I have found that there is no way over, around, under it other than through it. By which I mean, I just keep writing. Even if what I am writing is obviously terrible. I find sometimes walking away from a piece and coming back to it with fresh eyes is good. But for myself I can't stay away for too, too long. Just a day or so tops and then right back into the mess to try to power through the writer's block. I think writers who say they never experience writer's block are lying in an attempt to look cool.
What inspires your ideas?
There are certain topics that I like to focus on: Loss, fear and love. Nature inspires me within those themes. Getting out for a walk inspires me. Reading as much as I can read helps, too. A lot of my work is actually from the vantage point of the outside-looking-in and not writing about just myself. I don't like to be that narcissistic. And I am endlessly amused when people think my works are about me and my experiences. Far from it. Rarely is that ever the case. Most of the time, I am writing as an observer. I am looking at people around me and writing about how they might think or feel on the inside about something.
Give us a fun-fact about you!
Edward Kline is a pen name! I am a huge, huge, HUGE fan of Edgar Allan Poe and Emily Dickinson so when thinking about writing and channeling their energy and inspiration I wanted to pick a name that started with "E". And the letter "K" is the halfway point between Dickinson and Poe. Or it was when I counted all those years ago. If I got it wrong, don't tell me now. It's too late to change it. Anyway I got to "K" and looked up last names that started with the letter and landed on Kline.
Where can people see more of your work?
Really just here at Red Planet. For the most part, I have just recently gotten the courage to share my work.
What drew you to Red Planet Magazine?
I was looking for places to submit my work and came upon Red Planet Magazine and loved the mission statement. It really spoke to my own sense of wonder. At first I thought maybe my work might be a bit too introspective and dark for this publication but felt a strong sense to give it a try and submit my musings for consideration. And I keep coming back because I am super proud of the other contributors that I am honored and humbled to share magazine space with, I love our fearless Editor-in-Chief's blog postings about important issues of our day (particularly Climate Change) and I thought it was a nice place for someone as brutally shy as me to submit my work in the hopes that whoever might read my work might enjoy it. And that's what it is ultimately about for me. That human connection.
The Most Egregious Crook
by Edward Kline
My loved ones have not died - they await me!
Down beneath the conniving dirt of the cemetery.
Or deceptively placed behind cold marble slate,
in the Mausoleum - where I left them,
convinced that they had met their last fate.
But Death is the most egregious crook!
Which is why I’ll dig them all up and have another look.
Our time together, I don’t believe it has concluded.
Grandmother! Cousin! Brother! Dearest Friend!
I know “morticians” and “medicine” have colluded.
So, I’ll rip open their caskets and expect to see,
In each, nothing but big smiles just waiting for me.
And we’ll dance and we’ll sing and pay no mind,
to the nauseating breeze or the insulted crows,
sick with envy to see that we know - how to leave Death behind.