AUTHOR PROFILE
Bari Lynn Hein’s stories are published or forthcoming in dozens of journals across eleven countries, among them The Saturday Evening Post, Prime Number, CALYX, Mslexia, Jewish Fiction, Modern Literature, Samjoko, and The Bosphorus Review of Books. Her work has placed in the finals of several national and international awards. An adapted excerpt of her novel THEY DID(N’T) DANCE—soon to go on submission—won first place in the 2024 Bethesda Magazine Short Story Contest. You can find that story, and more, at barilynnhein.com.
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Bari Lynn's work appeared in Pond 80
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Why do you write?
Many of my stories allow me to work through experiences I’ve had—whether life-changing or seemingly insignificant. When my mother died after a yearlong battle with cancer, I wrote a memoir about our last year together—just for me, no one else—and that helped me to heal. I recently won a contest with a 53-word story that explores that same loss, 18 years later.
What other creative activities are you involved in?
I’m married to a painter, and I enjoy going to exhibits with him—sometimes for his paintings, but also to look at the work of other artists. We met in a college painting class, and art has always been a shared interest—an appreciation for me, a passion for him.
Who is your favorite author and why?
I have so many. If I were to list them alphabetically by first name, I would start with Amor Towles for his storytelling skills, Anne Tyler for her memorable characters, and Anthony Marra for his immersive scenes (and for being able to make me cry).
Tell us about the mechanics of how you write.
For my longform manuscripts, I’m more of a “pantser” than a “planner”. I start out with a premise and an ending, but don’t necessarily know what I will encounter along the way. I definitely connect with what E.L. Doctorow said: “Writing is like driving at night in a fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” I usually figure out the exact wording for the final sentence midway through the manuscript, but never write it down until I’ve reached my destination, so I’m usually sobbing by the time I type that sentence out.
Finally, what do you think about Carp, the fish, not our website?
My late in-laws had some koi—which is a type of carp—swimming around in a little pond in their backyard. Looking back, I admire the resilience of this type of fish. In wintertime, when the top of the pond would freeze, the koi managed to survive. They would just take a nap and wait it out, and when spring arrived, they’d emerge, ready to resume their swimmy little lives.