By Rebecca Schwab

WVU is priviledged to have Katie Fallon as part of its faculty. Katie has published numerous essays in magazines such as River Teeth, Fourth Genre, Ecotone, Isotope, Appalachian Heritage, Fourth River, Now & Then, Rivendell, and Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel. She has two essays in the anthology Appalachia’s Last Stand (Wind, 2009), which is a collection of anti-mountaintop removal writing by writers connected to West Virginia.

Katie has an essay in the April/May 2011 issue of Bark Magazine, which should be out any day now. Bark is Katie’s favorite dog magazine—you can get a copy at Barnes & Noble or Books-A-Million here in Morgantown. Bark is a widely-circulated magazine with a readership of over 250,000.

Her book, Cerulean Blues: A Personal Search for a Vanishing Songbird, is due out in the fall from Ruka Press.

Katie was kind enough to tell us about her writing career and her inspirations, and to share her experiences as a graduate of WVU’s MFA program.

1.) You’ve just written Cerulean Blues, a book about the Cerulean Warbler, right? How long has this project been in the works?

I began working on Cerulean Blues in early 2007, but I first heard about the plight of the cerulean warbler in 2000 or 2001 as a grad student at WVU. I attended a presentation given by Petra Wood, a faculty member in the WVU’s Wildlife Department. I learned that the cerulean is the fastest declining songbird in the United States, and that its preferred breeding habitat is mature and old-growth forests on ridges in Central Appalachia – from southwest Pennsylvania to eastern Tennessee. This region is being dramatically altered by mountaintop removal coal mining, which may permanently destroy preferred cerulean habitat. MTR is also bad for the people leaving near it; in addition to destabilizing the land, MTR pollutes the air, the drinking water, and can contribute to flooding.

But the trouble doesn’t stop there for cerulean warblers. Ceruleans spend the winter in the Andes Mountains of Colombia, Venezuela, Peru, and Ecuador, where primary forest is being cleared for full-sun coffee plantations. The traditional way to grow coffee is in the shade of canopy trees, which is good for birds and good for the coffee—shade-grown coffee beans stay on the plants longer, giving them a richer flavor. Shade-grown coffee is also good for the folks who work the coffee farms; because the birds that live in the canopy trees eat insects, the farmers don’t need to handle dangerous chemical pesticides. Unfortunately, coffee grows faster in the full sun, and unless consumer demand for shade-grown coffee increases, primary Andean forests will continue to be razed. (Buy shade-grown coffee!)

In late 2006 I read that the cerulean warbler had been denied “threatened” status by the federal government, even though its total population had declined by 3% a year since 1966 (which means that today there are approximately 80% fewer ceruleans than there were forty years ago). I couldn’t understand why this species didn’t qualify for additional protection under the Endangered Species Act, so I began investigating. Soon, an idea for a book began to form. I spent two or three years researching, interviewing experts, traveling, and of course writing. In addition to various cerulean hotspots in West Virginia and Tennessee, I traveled to Colombia to see ceruleans on their wintering grounds in the Northern Andes.

In early 2009, I began working with an agent who helped me write a proposal and improve the manuscript, and in late 2010 I signed a book contract. A new publisher of nonfiction, Ruka Press, will publish Cerulean Blues: A Personal Search for a Vanishing Songbird in the fall of 2011.

2.) Ceruleans aren’t your first bird subject. You’re into owls and vultures, too. What started this love affair with feathered things?

I blame my mother. When I was a baby, she had lots of bird feeders in the yard, and she used to hold me in front of the window and show me the birds; hence, my first word was “bird.” I haven’t been able to shut up about them since.

3.) What other topics do you write about, aside from birds? And are there certain themes or ideas that you find run through all of your work, regardless of the specific topic?

I aim to save the planet – that’s the theme of most of my writing, regardless of the specific topic.

I write about animals other than birds, too; I’ve written about dogs, cats, horses, beavers, fish, coyotes, loons? Oh wait, loons are birds?

I think most of my writing is strongly grounded in “place.” I’ve also written about the concepts of home and family, and I write about travel. And love—I write often about love.

4.) You lecture at WVU now in addition to your writing career. What have you been up to in the time before this year and graduating from WVU with your MFA?

From 2004 until 2009 I taught creative writing and composition at Virginia Tech. Actually, I’m still officially an employee of Virginia Tech; I’m on-leave from my Advanced Instructor position until May of 2011. I love the English Department at Virginia Tech, and I love Blacksburg, but I don’t plan to return to there at this time.

We moved back to Morgantown for several reasons, but primarily because my husband had job offers here that seemed too good to pass up. I’m currently teaching creative writing part-time at WVU; I’m excited about the fall semester of 2011, when I’ll be teaching the graduate creative nonfiction workshop.

What are some future projects you want to undertake? Do you have plans or notes for other books?

For several months I’ve been working on my next book, tentatively titled The Vulture’s Shadow: A Story of Tragedy, Trust, and an Unusual Friendship. The book’s main character is Vader the Turkey Vulture, a permanent resident of the West Virginia Raptor Rehabilitation Center. I’m the center’s Education Director, and my duties include developing and conducting environmental education programs; organizing volunteers; and caring for and training our non-releasable birds of prey. Vader was shot in the shoulder near Pruntytown, WV, and will never fly well enough to be returned to the wild. Shooting a Turkey Vulture (or any other bird of prey) is a federal offense, punishable by fines and/or a prison sentence; the person who shot Vader has never been apprehended. I’ve spent the last year or so attempting to befriend and train her, and now Vader participates in educational programs for the public. She’s an ambassador for Turkey Vultures everywhere.

The Vulture’s Shadow is an account of the befriending and training process. It also incorporates a great deal of natural history information about Turkey Vultures as well as other vulture species worldwide. I am obsessed with Turkey Vultures; I think they’re the perfect creatures—they don’t kill anything, and they’re the ultimate recyclers. If I could come back as an animal, I would definitely choose to be a vulture, floating effortlessly above the little world of busy humans on my six-foot wings, just waiting for something below me to die.

I still have a lot of work to do on The Vulture’s Shadow, but I have a detailed outline and drafts of several chapters. And I recently sent a draft of a book proposal to my agent, which means that soon he can start trying to sell it. Fingers crossed.

5.) What was the most useful thing you learned from your teachers and peers at WVU while in the MFA program?

I learned many useful things—it’s difficult to pick just one. I definitely learned the value of being part of a community of writers. And I learned a heck of a lot about teaching writing, through the courses I was taking as well as teaching. WVU’s English Department has excellent teachers—not just excellent writing teachers, but excellent literature and theory teachers, as well.

I made some serious lifelong friends here, too, which is perhaps the greatest thing the program has given me.

6.) Do you have any advice for graduating MFAs—those of us who hope to publish someday?

I’m not sure if I’m qualified to give advice, but I’ll try. I think it’s important not to take yourself too seriously, but at the same time, don’t underestimate what you can do—don’t sell yourself short. You are a Master of the Fine Art of creative writing. Even if The New Yorker doesn’t want your short story, you can go to bed at night knowing that you know more about writing than the vast majority of humans. A lot more. You will have your education until you die, and no one can take it away from you. Your knowledge might not turn into a career—it might not even turn into a part-time teaching job—but you know something, even if you never publish a word.

But, of course, you should try to get your words published. Send to your favorite literary journals. Send to literary journals that will probably reject you. Send to contests that will give you journal subscriptions in exchange for your entry fees. If you don’t read and support literary journals, who will? Yes, most journals will reject your work. Who cares? It’s not like the folks sifting through the thousands of submissions are experts, necessarily. They might be grad students; they might even be undergraduate students. They probably aren’t Pulitzer Prize or National Book Award winners—and if they are, well, then it’s an honor to be rejected by them. Bottom line: send your stuff out. Don’t be afraid. You’ll never know unless you try.

If you haven’t been thinking about it already, it is time to start thinking about The Book. There are many book and chapbook contests out there—and real people win them. If you’re graduating with an MFA, you’ve already produced something book-length (or almost book-length). Check out the classifieds section of Poets & Writers for contests, and send away.