M.M. Carrigan Turned Taco Bell & Rejection into Literature
and "that feeling when your own writing hits you"
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This is One More Question, a newsletter for nonfiction writers who want to keep doing the work, even when it’s really hard. Fridays are for Q&As with writers and editors who so generously share some insight on their work and their world.
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M.M. Carrigan, Editor Grande Supreme of Taco Bell Quarterly, on that feeling when your own writing hits you
“Rejection is the currency of writers. Aspire to it.”
I have not eaten Taco Bell in years. But last night I walked to a Taco Bell to take that photo for this issue. I didn’t order anything because the only order I’ve ever known is three soft tacos with beef, and I no longer eat meat. And also because it’s drive-thru-only now, and I was on foot.
But I have devoured a bunch of Taco Bell-related stories and poems recently, thanks to Taco Bell Quarterly, a new literary magazine created by writer M.M. Carrigan.
Reading Volume 1 and 2 of Taco Bell Quarterly made me feel a little bit guilty for the internal eye roll I experienced when I first heard there was a literary magazine devoted entirely to Taco Bell. Someone’s bored in quarantine, was my first thought. But then I read a vivid story about a slimy monster that pops out of a portal to speak to the manager inside the drive-thru window. And I read an essay about an author hearing the news of their wife’s cancer diagnosis and then choosing KFC for lunch because Taco Bell is for happy times. I read about hot sauce and hunger and nostalgia for sticky trays piled with various forms of meat, cheese, and tortilla. And then I emailed Carrigan, because I really love what they’ve created here.
In a recent article for LitHub, Carrigan writes about feeling beaten down by writer’s block, rejection, and depression. In coming out of that, they decided to write about what they know. Taco Bell kept coming up. “I had worked in fast food. I loved the camaraderie, the Us versus the World mentality,” they write. “The future looked like everything and nothing from our view of the drive-thru window.”
So Taco Bell it would be. The third issue is forthcoming this September, and they’re accepting submissions through July 1.
Carrigan encourages writers to find, “the white-hot center of their Taco Bell pain.” They write: “Writers are a magical type of human who intuitively understand exactly whatever the fuck that means. But we also like poop jokes. Sometimes, that’s simply what the pain is, and that’s the whole story. It’s shit. And you know, and I know.”
So, meet M.M. Carrigan, an editor who wants to hear about your poop jokes and your pain; a writer who, in curating this refreshing collection of literary talent, reminds us to stay hungry for all kinds of stories.
Why Taco Bell? Why now?
I had been exploring brands and my relationships to commercialism and pop culture in my own writing. For some reason, Taco Bell kept hitting me the hardest. You know that feeling, when your own writing hits you. It intrigued me. I wondered if other writers might agree. We all have that restaurant, that lost menu item, that toy we never got, tied into our psyches. I encourage writers to find it. Let's start by poking around the Taco Bell.
I think lots of writers come up with wacky or unusual ideas, but then they second guess themselves and never follow through. You actually went through with yours. What was it that pushed you forward with this concept?
To me, it wasn't a wacky idea. I pushed through because other writers responded so intuitively. When I put out a call for submissions for the first issue, I started receiving incredible stuff right away. I knew I had something remarkable.
So you decide to make Taco Bell Quarterly a thing. What was the most impactful thing you did to make it happen?
The first submission I got was a simple take on the William Carlos Williams Red Wheelbarrow poem, by a writer named Josh Olsen. I just loved his handle on it. I have read a hundred pastiche takes of William Carlos Williams, but never one that made me sigh over the emptiness of Dollar Generals in strip malls.
What has the feedback been like so far?
People keep telling me I've tapped into the zeitgeist.
In your article for LitHub, you wrote about the significant role that brands played in your childhood. Can you tell us about another brand that's had a lasting impact on you?
I was a very uncool, awkward kid with a severe and rare anxiety disorder where I didn't even talk. I studied coolness constantly, this currency of coolness. I longed for Nikes and Starter Jackets, just to be somebody. Nike. Starter. Nintendo. Jordan. Coke. Calvin Klein. I aspired to these names, these beacons. I love sneakers. My wife teases me because I have more shoes than her, and I'm not really into fashion otherwise. Nikes, Adidas, Supra, Converse, Reeboks, Asics, New Balances, Vans.... I'm still chasing that playground clout.
You also wrote about frustration with rejection. What was a turning point in pulling yourself out of that slump? Any advice for fellow writers who are struggling with how much rejection is coming at us these days?
Rejection is the currency of writers. Aspire to it. For me the turning point was having children. Not much else matters in life after you have kids. I realized it really didn't matter if people didn't like me or my writing. Metaphorically, the kid inside of me with the anxiety disorder learned how to talk, finally.
Do you think you'll get tired of the Taco Bell focus?
I hope to publish other stories adjacent to Taco Bell, the way we are shaped by commercialism, but I will not let it rest until every writer who wants to tell Their Taco Bell Story has done so.
If you weren't writing and editing stories about Taco Bell, what else would you be writing about?
I usually start with objects. All objects have stories. I mine them. I dig through boxes of junk to find my stories.
What advice can you offer to someone who would like to submit something to Taco Bell Quarterly?
Scare us. Write the thing that makes you say holy crap, no other human being has ever written this sentence and that scares you in a good way.
A big thank you to M.M. Carrigan for creating a space for writers to scare themselves. Follow TBQ on Twitter and stay tuned for the next issue.
That’s all for today, friends. Enjoy your weekend, and I’ll see ya next week.
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