 Chris is the author of the novels Carry On from Rain Mountain Press in 2012 and Shriver 2013. His fiction has been published in American Fiction, Skid Row Penthouse Six-Fold, The Fat City Review, SN Review and Venue. His plays have been showcased at Ensemble Studio Theater in New York, the New York International Fringe Festival in the Manhattan Theater Source. He co-wrote the film Amnesia, Starring Ally Sheedy and he's released two albums, wonderful albums by the way, Songs About Anything 2003 and Camouflage 2008. He's taught creative writing in many places including to senior citizens and in prisons. He currently teaches at the Westport Writers Workshop and they go on a correctional institution and he's won a number of awards for his stories and his other work. He holds an MFA obviously from here, lives in Connecticut with his wife and daughter. Chris Belden. This is a story called a walk around the lake. They'd left the house without a flashlight which Walt now regretted. He could barely see the road paved but narrow with the occasional gravel driveway branching off into the darkness. The lake shimmered a dull silver to their left. They always walked this way counterclockwise around the lake, one of their many habits he was bored with. He'd asked Claire to take a walk in order to tell her that their marriage was over. He hadn't wanted to tell her at the house thinking the words might come out easier here, but he couldn't get them past his dry lips. Instead he kept looking up at the sliver of moon hanging in the trees. Bob and Debra Ann went to see someone, Claire said, some kind of counselor and it really helped them. Oh Walt said scratching his chin. Claire perhaps inspired by her dull friend Debra Ann had lately decided that she and Walt were merely in a rut. Nothing that a little professional help couldn't cure. There wasn't enough communication. Walt was distant. There were intimacy issues. What do you think she asked? About what? About us seeing this counselor? Us? Bob had told them all about it about how Debra Ann and the counselor had ganged up on him and how they'd scolded him for not crying. He agreed with Bob the counseling was for those who need to tell themselves they've tried everything. We need to get it all off our chests, Claire went on, but in a safe environment with a neutral observer so we don't get hostile. Walt hated this kind of talk. Ever since Claire had started therapy, her conversations were peppered with terms like supervising ego and unconscious anger. All of a sudden she knew everything about him, why he said or did certain things, why he couldn't sleep at night. She knew that his emotional unavailability was due to his alcoholic father and cold distant mother. She knew everything it seemed except that he'd been having an affair. Debra Ann says this counselor is an amazing woman. She really got Bob to open up and be honest about his fear of commitment. Walt wished he had the nerve to say but I don't have a fear of commitment. It's just that recently I've been more committed to somebody else. One day Walt had gone into the little bookstore in Main Street looking for a copy of Light Years and ended up getting into a discussion about James Salter with Leah, the owner. Walt had been in the store a few times but had never bought anything, had barely noticed the tall slender woman behind the counter. But as she talked about Salter's work her green eyes growing large he could see how pretty she was. Those eyes the way they contrasted with her long dark hair were like lamps in a far off house in the middle of the night. He had no copies of Light Years in stock she told him finally but she would order one for him. He spent the rest of the week debating with himself about what to say to her when he went to pick up the book. In the end he decided it couldn't hurt to have a friend in town or at least that's what he told himself and so he asked her to lunch. That was three months ago. Haven't you noticed how different they are Claire asks? Bob used to be so mean to Debra Ann. All those cutting remarks. I haven't really noticed Walt said. He didn't tell her the reason that Bob was so mellow these days was that he also started seeing someone else. A nurse at the local hospital. The ten year mark is a milestone Claire told him. That's when it really sinks in that this is forever. It can be hard especially for men. Ten years Walt thought. It seemed so much longer. Back then they were living in the city in a small one bedroom in the village at the center of the world. They stayed out late on week nights, spent all day Sunday in bed and went through money as if determined to die broke. Then came 9-11 and Claire all of a sudden developed a desire to live in the country. Time to grow up she'd said. For Walt it meant time to run away from the place where everything is happening. But sufficiently beaten down by Claire's post attack anxiety he gave in. They bought their little house on the lake. He quit his full time job to freelance and Claire found work at the local weekly newspaper where she covered town meetings with the latest collisions between deer and SUV. Leah could relate to his frustration. She'd moved out here with her ex several years back and started up the bookstore just to maintain her sanity. When they divorced she thought she'd moved back to the city but she'd grown fond of the store and decided to stay on instead. She told him this over lunch. She'd dressed up for the occasion in a tight leather skirt that didn't quite reach her knees and a sleeveless blouse. Walt had surprised himself by putting on his expensive Italian suit coat for the first time since quitting his full time job. He was up front about being married mentioning Claire several times in the first 10 minutes though he found his tone varying towards a sort of embarrassed exasperation whenever he referred to her. Leah seemed unfazed even curious about Claire. She asked what she was like, what she did for work, what she looked like. For a moment he thought they could perhaps all become good friends, the three of them, going out for dinner and drinks every now and then. And then he decided he didn't want that. He wanted Leah all to himself. After lunch they shook hands and she told him to let her know what he thought about the book. This is all very natural sweetie, Claire told him. There's no harder work than marriage. They passed the Turner house where a party was in progress. The Turner boys were a wild bunch, driving their souped up cars too fast around the roads, tight corners, occasionally knocking over mailboxes. And when their parents were out throwing these notorious parties, they usually placid night air thumped with hip hop bass notes and peels of teenage laughter. Poor Mark and Lori, Claire said of the Turner's, those kids are a real burden. If they can stick together through this, we should be able to. I suppose you think everything would be okay if we had kids, he said. Oh Walt, that's not what I meant. She took his hand the way she always did when she detected his frustration on this topic, but it only made him more angry. Last year after trying for months to conceive, Claire had talked him into having his semen analyzed. The whole experience was humiliating, with the smirking receptionist handing him that plastic cup and escorting him to a small tiled room with a flimsy door. He could still picture the chair covered with examination table paper. The shelf stacked with pornographic magazines, the television with a built-in VCR. The whole time he heard people next door in the laboratory chuckling amongst themselves. That since he was 15 years old and his parents house had Walt masturbated with an earshot of so many people going about their business. When the results showed that his sperm were not up to par, something about low motility, he'd felt emasculated and ashamed. Every time Claire spoke about couples who had children, even the turners with their delinquent teenagers, Walt experienced it as a thinly veiled personal insult. One of the reasons Leah had split with her ex was that she didn't want to have children. The world is so crowded already, she told Walt that first time as she ran her long fingers lightly over his chest. A week had passed since their lunch. He'd stopped by the bookstore twice already, first to chat about light years then just to say hello. During visit number three she asked him if he'd like to step out for lunch. She told her assistant she'd be back in a couple hours, then led him down the street and up a flight of external stairs to her apartment above the pharmacy. She pulled leftover chicken from the fridge which they ate cold with wine at her kitchen table. After lunch in a full bottle of Pinot Grigio she took his hand and escorted him to the bedroom. When she kissed him parting her soft wet lips the hairs on his arms stood up. It had been forever since he'd felt that electric jolt becomes with the touch of a woman. Afterward with one long leg draped over his belly she spoke about her ex's anger at her for not wanting to have his babies. She went on to express her disdain for self-absorbed suburban ladies like Claire. With their biological clocks and SUVs she was relieved she said that Walt was sterile. That means no contraception she said with a mischievous grin. But I do think the adoption process could bring us closer together Claire said as they passed the Turner house. She squeezed his hand again. I told you Walt said tearing his hand away I think we should hold off on that. Why it takes so long Walt? It wouldn't hurt to start on the paperwork. He sighed paperwork meant lawyers and lawyers meant money. If he was going to climb into that mud pit he may as well get what he really wanted out of it. A divorce. They turned on to an especially dark stretch of road flanked by fields of huge old maple trees. They're full branches hanging overhead like a canopy. From somewhere around the next bend came the rumble of an engine. I've been doing some research Claire said we could fly to China in about 12 or 15 months if we start the ball rolling now. Sheena at work did it with her husband came back with an adorable little Chinese girl. They couldn't be happier. Leah had also been talking about adoption lately. While she felt no need for a biological heir she had decided that caring for an unwanted child would be a service to humanity. But instead of the predictable China it seemed like every other couple in town had an adorable little Chinese girl in a state of the art stroller. She was interested in Africa. Have you ever met an Ethiopian she'd asked. She said they were absolutely gorgeous with their smoky brown skin and neon smiles. For weeks now Walt had fantasized about raising such a child with Leah. As they neared the turn in the road a sharp left through the woods Walt could hear the rapid approach of the vehicle. Its stereo turned up all the way headlights flashed through the trees. It looked like a pickup moving very fast. I just think we should figure out our problems he explained before we add such a huge complication to the mix. A huge complication Claire said is that what a child means to you. They just reached the turn when the pickup roared around the bend nearly running them over. In a split second during which the vehicle passed by a mere foot or two away Walt saw into the cab where two boys flanked a pretty girl with blonde hair. There was something especially infuriating about the trio above and beyond their rudeness and lousy driving. And before he could think about what he was doing he lifted his middle finger. Even within that crowded fraction of a second he detected that his gesture had registered. Then the truck was past them. Jesus Claire said stumbling on the uneven shoulder of the road. Are you alright Walt took hold of her arm they could have killed us. Claire dusted herself off and they continued walking. As they made the sharp left turn Walt glanced back to see the truck slow to a crawl then stop. It was about 50 yards behind them the brake lights glowed red in the dark. Anyway Claire said I was going to say it might do you some good to have a complication in your life. She hadn't noticed that the truck had stopped. Walt looked back again. What if the driver started to back up or turned around. They were probably all drunk and looking for a fight. They might even have a gun in that ridiculous truck. Claire said I think we've both gotten so comfortable with our lives that we could use a little shaking up you know. Yeah Walt thought how about a little shake up right now. Through the trees in the woods he could still make out the fire red brake lights. Are you listening to me. Uh huh he said his ears tuned to the trucks low rumble. He considered telling Claire that they may be in some danger but then he would have to tell her about his obscene gesture and she would berate him for being so adolescent. Still if the truck returned he would have to do something. He figured he had three options dash into the woods and hide run to the next house and ask for help or stand his ground and confront the hoodlums. If only Leah were here with him instead of Claire. Leah inspired him to be stronger mostly in dumb little ways. Sending back an undercooked hamburger or asking for directions from a stranger. But he could feel these small adjustments shifting ever so slightly the tectonic plates of his character. Every time I bring up the idea of adoption Claire said you shut down do you even realize that? Leah's right he thought. Claire is so self-absorbed she can't even see what's going on right in front of her. Could she not hear the growl of the truck less than 100 yards away? Could she not detect the hyper alert anxious way that he was carrying himself? How would she protect her precious little Chinese girl from danger when she can't even tell if she herself is in peril? You're shutting down right now aren't you she said? He listened for the truck. What is it she asked? The engine still rumbled but it seemed quieter either because the truck had moved on or perhaps just because the distance was greater between them. He could not relax until he knew the truck had gone. What is your problem Claire asked? Did you hear that? Hear what? I thought I heard a fox he said. She had a thing for foxes maybe that would keep her quiet for a moment. Where is she whispering? In the woods. She cocked her head to listen. He heard it now that Claire had stopped talking the truck engine. It had not moved. He wondered what they could be doing back there. Were they debating their course of action? One boy wanted to go back and kick some ass. The other anxious to get to the party with the blonde girl torn between the two. I hear a car or something Claire said. The truck engine grew louder. It was moving. Must be those Turner kids she added. Were you shut up Walt pissed? Even in the dark he could make out the look of shock on her face. The truck still around the bend was coming closer. Walt? Claire moaned. Okay he said as the truck's headlights shone through the trees I need you to go into the woods. What? Just do as I say. The truck was just reaching the bend in the road. In a second or two the headlights would be in their eyes. Please he said go into the woods and wait for me. Why? Trust me Claire. She just stood there. Do it. He pushed her toward the trees but it was mostly the force of his voice that propelled Claire off the road and into the woods. Go on he called out to her as the truck rounded the bend. Keep going till you can't see me. She had disappeared into the darkness but he could hear the crack of twigs as she ran. The truck was on the straight away it's bright beams shining in his eyes. He considered following Claire but for some reason he was not afraid anymore. Earlier Walt had parked in the public lot in back of Leah's apartment and waited in his car until he saw her come home from the bookstore and climb the stairway. By the time he got out of his car traversing the parking lot and climbed the stairs she had taken off all her clothes and lay in bed. This was their usual routine two or three times a week. He thought now of her pale smooth skin her long legs wrapped around him ankles locked and pulling him deeper inside her. Before she came she went completely still like a cat in free fall just waiting breathlessly for the impact. When it arrived she let everything go including all decorum. It was nothing he'd ever seen or heard before the way she rived the filth it poured from her mouth as if each word each gyration could prolong the sensation. It horrified him at first then it made him laugh now it turned him on like nothing else ever had. He stood by the side of the road blinded by the headlights the truck slowed then break to a stop ten yards away the driver turned off the engine leaving the lights on. The night sounds fell into place as if into perfectly carved slots crickets leaves rustling in the breeze the far off parking of a dog. Walt raised his hand to shade his eyes but could not see inside the truck the occupants remained where they were perfectly quiet. When he announced that he was planning to leave Claire Leah had not been as enthusiastic as he'd hoped. Not that she was displeased exactly reserved was perhaps the best way to describe her reaction. There were no hugs and kisses no tears of joy but neither did she turn away. She continued to drape her long leg over him but spoke in an unusually serious tone. She asked what he would do where he would live she wondered how Claire would react would she be so angry that she'd make the divorce ugly. These were all good questions that he had not seriously considered. He had thought only of Leah and his life with her the days and nights together the trips to be taken the sex. Even as she posed her thoughtful questions he glossed over them declaring that he didn't care that he cared only about her about them. Walt you heard the crackle of twigs in the woods stay there he said. The truck had not moved nor had anyone inside spoken they just sat there Walt saw the tip of a cigarette glow red and die out. When he left Leah's apartment today there had been a new seriousness between them. Normally they would kiss hold one another sometimes even return to bed. She would laugh they would make plans to meet in a couple of days both of them wishing out loud that they could meet sooner. This afternoon there was a kiss but it was without heat and there was no laughter. They said they would get together in two days but they both knew that if Walt went ahead with his plans the meeting would be consumed with a discussion of what had happened with Claire and what it meant for their future. Everything would be different. No he thought as he descended the stairs everything was already different. He'd been so sure Leah loved him just as he'd been sure he loved her but now as he stood there on the road with the truck's headlights burning his eyes he was not sure of anything. The girl giggled in the cab then came a male voice I'm bored let's go. The engine started with a bellow followed by the grind of gears as the truck rolled backward. The driver angled its sideways then turned around still blind from the glare Walt could barely make out the three occupants. A beer bottle shattered at his feet. The girl laughed and the truck tore off exhaust clouding the view of its red taillights. Claire emerged from the trees are you alright she asked wrapping her arms around him. He watched the truck's lights turn and fade into the trees the rattling engine now a dull far off purr. What were they doing she asked why did they come back like that. I don't know he said he felt his head go heavy and his eyes fill with water. What's the matter Claire asked touching the tears that rolled down his cheeks but he could not tell her. Let's go home Claire said taking his hand you'll feel better then and knowing she was probably right he went with her thanks. So can you talk about where you were before you started this program as a writer and what you've taken away from this program and how the program has helped your journey. Before I joined the program I was a struggling fairly lost writer. I had taken many workshops and I knew that helped me but I wasn't taking any workshops at the time. I moved out of the city and I was working on a novel and I was working on stories and sending things out and having not very much luck. And I knew I needed direction structure and a community. That's what I was looking for. And I had been thinking about MFA programs for years and had never really acted on it. And then I heard about this program I recently moved to Connecticut and I said this sounds good and applied and got in. So when I found all those things direction structure and a community. So what what about this program when you heard about this program why did you want to come to this program aside from geography. Well it was a it was a low residency program which I had a young daughter at home and my wife was working full time and I was freelancing. And it was not that practical to to take a typical MFA program you know full time MFA program. So for that reason it sounded like a good fit for me. Can you talk a little bit more about community with the communities done for you. Your peers but also faculty members and how they practically made a difference in your writing life. Well as everyone here knows writing can be a lonely endeavor. So I think it's really important to be around people when you can. Just socially I think we're social animals but also to be around other writers who know how that life goes. You know it's like cops tend to hang around cops you know because who knows what that life is like except other than you know other cops. So I think it's a similar kind of thing to get around other people who do the same thing. So we can talk about what we've read what we're writing you know the pitfalls hopefully the successes etc. So it's super important to get that and then here because it's a low residency program. Even though you don't see each other that often when you do see each other it's you know nine or ten days of intensive togetherness. Where you're rooming together with the other writer you're having breakfast lunch and dinner with a whole bunch of writers. You're hanging out between during before after every event with other writers it's just twenty four seven writers. And so you just get this this maximum intake of writerly stimulation. So you know that's you go home kind of charged up I'm going to write you know you really want to write and then thankfully people stay in touch. I guess it depends where you live. Most people are fairly local but there are events in between residencies and people get together. People have started workshops with other people from the program. People have gotten somebody's getting married they met through the program. And then when you graduate there's an alumni association and they're very hands on and very good about keeping people in touch. Doing projects together and all that stuff so the community continues and I have I've made friends here that I'll probably have forever. Not with regularly. And when you think about the faculty here and their approach which is obviously very hands on. But can you talk a little bit in your words in your perception what makes them different and so valuable to the students through here. Well again because because it's a low res program you really get to know if the faculty on this day to day breakfast lunch and dinner basis. So I always tell people you know eat with every person on the faculty if you're poet. Eat with the fiction faculty and you know etc. Just like get to know everybody because there's so much that they have to offer about the writing life. Their struggles and their successes and so we get to hang out with them get to know them. And I have yet to meet a faculty person. I've met them all over the years but I haven't met anyone that it wasn't interesting to talk to at lunch. And who I didn't get something from in terms of whatever just something I didn't know before about the business. And then you know some of them have become friends and we hang out. How committed would you say the faculty are to the students and to their growth as writers. In my experience the faculty is very committed and they spend a lot of time working with each person. Well certainly that was the case with me and I just assumed that it is with most other people if not everybody. You know there's a several month period where we don't necessarily see them. Because you know we're off at our house in their house and maybe they're not even in the same state or whatever. But they're in touch and there's always a connection there. And everybody has an open door policy that I've ever worked with where if you have a problem let me know. And that continues beyond the point where you work with them as mentors. It certainly happens in the workshop and you know even after graduation faculty are still in touch with me. I make a point of coming here to say hello and revisit them. And I don't know I get to get the sense that they care you know it's not just a gig for them. One of the things I think that differentiates this program is that they not only teach about writing but it's also the business of writing. So that when you leave you're practically in a position where you're not just going out into the world having no idea what to do you've got more of a focus. So can you talk a little bit about how being in the program helped you understand not only how to write better but also how to get out there and sell your work better. Well here at the residency they will regularly have these seminars and presentations and panel discussions by professional publishing folks, agents, editors. We had a guy come and give a little seminar on how to read out loud to an audience which actually was really helpful. I mean I have read many times but I still learn stuff and there's a lot of people who are terrified and that's the kind of thing that helps you. You want to read to an audience and put on a good show and you know be coherent and it's one of those little nuts and bolt things that people don't think about too much but it's super helpful. And same with the agents and when you leave the program you're encouraged and in some cases like really pushed to get your stuff out there. And to meet people and to write to editors and not only that but to get out there as potential teachers. It's not just about publishing either and it's the point where they have a program for people who want to teach at Fairfield University. You can kind of be, I don't know, there's an open door there for MFA grads to teach at the agent level. So they're not even just thinking about publishing, they're thinking about actually earning a little bit of money when you get out of here. Can you talk a little bit about how this experience has helped you make your way as a writer in the world and make a living doing this? You know I run workshops and I basically model my workshop after the workshops that I experienced here. And I've done workshops before so I use all that history that I have and experience that I have from workshops but a lot of it is based on this model, the MFA model. So it definitely made me a better teacher to work with these guys here who teach and to work with my fellow students here, just learning from them. In terms of editing, I basically will edit, aside from copy edit stuff, I edit with thinking what would so and so make this thinking of faculty people here. I'm remembering manuscripts that I submitted in the MFA program and the kind of notes that I got that were helpful to me and I try to do that. So that helped enormously. I mean I think I was a good reader before and certainly being in the workshops here helped me to be a good reader and then working with these mentors really sharpened that up. So it's super helpful to anybody doing anything publishing. What was the most surprising thing about this experience of going through this program or meeting these people or being a member of this community? I was surprised that I had it in me, frankly, to enjoy it as much as I did and to get as much out of it as I did. I just really didn't know. I mean I had a good feeling about it. I felt like I was in the right place, right time kind of a thing, but I was very taken aback by how much it clicked for me. I just felt really good every time I came here and miss it as an alumnus, which is one of the reasons why I come back as often as I do. Go to Andrews Island and just spend an hour walking around Andrews Island. It doesn't matter what time you're here either. And see what kind of vibes you get from the place. And I guarantee you will want to go there and write. Look at the faculty and look at their work and speak to anybody you can who's been through the program. And speak to the faculty, speak to the people who are running the program. And just get a vibe and I guarantee it will be at the top of your list at the end of the day.