Being a creative nonfiction writer often feels like being something of a black sheep in the world of writing. Maybe those of you who have tried identifying yourselves as such have also felt how ineffective the title sometimes is at communicating to the general public what it is that we do. Being a CNF writer doesn’t seem to carry the same immediacy and recognition that writers of poetry and fiction seem to enjoy. I often find myself having to try to explain the genre to people who ask about my writing, which can feel embarrassing and tedious.
But perhaps this is a side effect of the very thing that attracted me to creative nonfiction in the first place: its immense variability and potential. In my mind, CNF is the genre of limitless potential. Counterintuitive perhaps, since in theory the palette of the CNF writer is limited to the realm of facts. But in practice, creative nonfiction becomes a point of intersection for the innumerable techniques of other creative forms to interact and play with each other, all in service of telling true stories. To quote Lee Gutkind, “the genre invites writers to push boundaries and open doors, offering them the opportunity to use all of the techniques of the fiction writer (or the poet)—dialogue, setting, description, inner point of view…in order to capture a reader’s attention and enlighten and intrigue them through nonfiction.¹”
It is this tension between innovation and truth-telling that excites me and keeps me committed to working in the genre. It is also what makes it difficult to describe the kind of work I hope to read as an editor. Ideally, what I hope to find are essays that I never would have been able to describe before reading. What I mean to say is that I am more interested in seeing my personal criteria expanded rather than met. However, my time working as a reader for Blue Mesa Review has made me aware of a few characteristics that I tend to look for in a submission.
For me, the success of a story depends more on the quality of voice and depth of meditation than on the events described. The best creative nonfiction engages the reader by bringing them into relationship with the mind of the author rather than relying on the shocking or tantalizing qualities of the narrative. Often, stories that one would expect to make for great CNF essays because of their dramatic intrigue or emotional rawness fall short because they fail to bring the reader into a meaningful relationship with the speaker. I don’t mean to say that the story is unimportant. Telling stories is the foundation of what we do. What I want to emphasize is the importance of centering craft over reportage. This means knowing which details are actually necessary to propel the story in a way that is not merely factual but also compelling.
Much of what I am saying boils down to how developed the piece is. The majority of declined submissions are turned down not because the author is untalented or their story uninteresting (in fact, most submitters are talented and interesting) but because their story is not yet framed or communicated in a way that can offer much to the reader. I hope to read work that speaks with a voice that is resonant, humble, and characterized by a time-earned wisdom.
I am excited to read through this year’s submissions. I hope to see work across multiple forms of CNF, whether it be memoir, personal essay, literary journalism, travel writing, nature writing, lyric essay (my personal favorite), or work that doesn’t fit perfectly into any of these categories. Submitting creative nonfiction is a vulnerable act, and I want to extend my sincerest thanks in advance for trusting me with your stories. Perhaps it is of little importance, since ultimately what we all want is to be published, but I feel inclined to express my belief that by submitting your work to BMR, you have already accomplished something. You have presented your work to another human. You have given my mind an opportunity to interact with yours. Something that otherwise might never have happened. This accomplishment may be small and invisible, but at least for me that is precisely what makes it meaningful.
¹Lee Gutkind, “What Is Creative Nonfiction,” Creative Nonfiction, accessed June 24, 2026, https://creativenonfiction.org/what-is-cnf/.
