Oddness: The Appeal of Unconventional Writing

When we sit down and write, the universe gives us permission to get a little weird. Unconventional fiction and poetry become broader expressions of ourselves, yes, but they also become areas in which we can experiment with new ideas—ideas that might not necessarily appear in traditional literary works. Journals like F(r)iction exist to give our oddness—our love for genres like solarpunk or our burning desire to write chapbooks about Big Foot—a platform. But why? What inspired the folks behind the submission form to create a space where we could not only be weird, but where we could share our weirdness with the world? 

We asked several members of F(r)iction’s editorial staff about their thoughts on weird, unconventional, or plain old strange pieces of writing. Here are some of their answers.

Celia Daniels (CD)

When you read the word “odd,” what’s the first thing that comes to mind? What about “strange” or “unconventional”?

Evan Sheldon

“Odd” makes me think off-kilter. “Strange” makes me think purposefully different.

Stefanie Molina

New. Unique. Startling. Uncomfortable.

Ariel Fagiola

“Odd” makes me want to understand something. If it’s odd, it’s new, exciting, and weird. “Strange” and “unconventional” can both be used too negatively, but in the literary world they are so positive and necessary. 

CD

What makes a piece of writing “odd” or unconventional? Is oddness found when a writer plays with formatting? Rhetoric? Plot? Other facets?

Kaley Kiermayr

For me, it’s a piece that has a theme or aesthetic (structure, style, voice, etc.) that disturbs or interrupts the status quo of a historically or narratively centered idea an audience has come to expect. 

Writing can be odd in its form, its intention, or its use of language. Normally, I see odd writing as having something unexpected in its content.

Stefanie Molina

I think oddness has to start with language, plot, and character…If a writer plays with formatting but writes extremely traditionally, that’s not odd. My favorite “odd” stories do something unique and beautiful with language or introduce me to scenarios, characters, etc. that I’ve never seen before. They make me feel unexpected things.

CD

What are some “odd” story elements that you, as a reader and as an editor, are drawn to?

Rachel Anderson

Anything to do with fantasy, especially where the fantastic clashes with the mundane.

Stefanie Molina

Magical realism, for sure. I love stories that happen in strange places. Uniqueness of voice gets me too: I actually find myself drawn to ESL writers because they tend to use language in a very new and beautiful way. 

Andrew Jimenez

Playing with language, as in unconventional phrasing, probably excites me the most. As does turning conventional tropes on their heads. 

CD

Does “odd” writing have to be speculative? Is it easier to write an “odd” piece of speculative fiction?

Kaley Kiermayr

No, “weird lit” doesn’t need to be speculative. I don’t think it’s easier or harder to write a speculative piece that fits the bill; it all depends on the writer’s ability. 

Evan Sheldon

Odd writing does not always mean speculative. In the same way, speculative does not always mean odd. Unconventional narratives don’t have to be speculative, and you can tell a speculative story in very conventional ways too.

Andrew Jimenez

I actually think it’s more difficult to write an odd piece of speculative fiction. The subjects, language, and tropes are on the surface considered odd, because the stories are about monsters or the future. But these are costumes, and once removed, you see these stories lend themselves so easily to tired and outdated formulas. Many people forget—or refuse to admit—that what we call traditional literature is itself a genre, and it’s one that’s so specialized in focus rhetorically and structurally that nearly any kind of experimentation is considered “odd.” 

CD

Why do you think “odd” or unconventional writing finds a home in F(r)cition?

Rachel Anderson

I think it’s because the first of the series didn’t pull any punches. The work was passionate and abnormal, and the pieces published since then have just built on that foundation. We’ve become a beacon for it. Even if this is a style or trend that’s getting more popular, it still isn’t the norm, so the number of litmags that are absolutely, 100% not looking for this kind of work still outnumber those that are. 

Kaley Kiermayr

Because F(r)iction is committed to holding the door open in many ways. It’s simultaneously true that we can always continue to improve on that commitment. We publish quite a bit from the slush pile, we actively seek out stories from historically marginalized, silenced, or erased populations, we’re zealously advocating for graphic story and comic artists, and we don’t turn away genre pieces. 

Evan Sheldon

We look for it. We love it. Other journals might be turned off by some of our pieces, but we’re reaching and supporting an entirely different audience and community.

CD

What do journals like F(r)iction offer the literary community when they share unconventional works of writing?

Kaley Kiermayr

I hope that we can contribute something authentic to the community by challenging it to read through that queering lens. I hope we can assist creators in finding or building a platform where they can be brave enough to experiment with forms of writing that refuse to be arrested by conventional writing standards. We’re pretty impatient with those. 

Evan Sheldon

Outsider perspectives. New ways of seeing the world. New ways of seeing literature.

Stefanie Molina

I’d say it’s a place for expression, imagination, and relatability. People can find things to relate to in unconventional work that they sometimes can’t in traditional writing—and it’s balanced with this light, this hope of magic or other power that’s present in the fictional world. There are dark stories, of course, and honestly I think those dark stories that are unconventional hold a bit more power than traditional ones. They allow you to get into the pain; the language flows through your body rather than sitting on its surface. So I suppose what we offer when we share unconventional writing is just…more intensity. Our stories are unapologetic. They are raw. 

CD

Do you have a favorite piece of strange fiction you could recommend?

Rachel Anderson

Kafka on the Shore. Broken Piano for President. The Rabbit Back Literature Society

Kaley Kiermayr

Meanwhile, Elsewhere, eds. Cat Fitzpatrick and Casey Plett, from Topside Press.

Evan Sheldon

Karen Russell’s St. Lucy’s Home for Girls Raised by Wolves.

Stefanie Molina

“The Distance of the Moon” by Italo Calvino.

Andrew Jimenez

One of my favorites is Heinlein’s The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress.

Ariel Fagiola

I love the poetry/fiction/novel-ish work by Hiromi Ito called Wild Grass on the Riverbank. It’s an incredible work of translation that fits into no category I can explain. In the best way. 

Celia Daniels

Celia Daniels is a twenty-four year old living in Bloomington, Indiana. She recently graduated from the University of Toledo with an M.A. in English Literature. Nowadays, she spends her time ghostwriting and trying to convince herself that she's financially responsible enough to own a cat. You can find her on Twitter  @Celia_Daniels.