Cressida Leyshon at The New Yorker | Contact Details

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Cressida Leyshon

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United States

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English

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Books

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Recent Articles

newyorker.com

Kevin Barry on Boats and Doomed Romances

I was on the same ferry from Cork to Roscoff when I started to write the story. It was a lovely, calm day in late summer, and I had almost sixteen hours ahead of me on the boat, and I realized I hadn’t written a story in ages. So I got my notebook out and started to try a few sentences. . . . I always think I know how to write a short story until I start a new one, and then the meltdown begins. But, of course, the journey offered a clean narrative shape, as all journeys do, and I knew quickly th…

8 months ago

newyorker.com

Cynan Jones on Nature and Nonlinear Love

Although readers will receive this story very much through the prism of fiction, this happened to me. Not necessarily in the order or with the exact events on the page. But, yes—I was woken up in the pitch-black middle of the night by a tree bringing a power line down on our house. I had no sense I would write about it until much later, and even then I was hesitant. Trying to reframe a real event into a working piece of fiction is more challenging than making something up from scratch. And tryin…

7 months ago

newyorker.com

Lore Segal on the Obvious and the Inexplicable

My old ladies are observing themselves grow old and older. Their vision deteriorates, their memory fails, but they keep discovering that they like the interesting business of living. “Beyond Imagining” consists of four sections, each named after one of the friends. In “Ruth,” you describe the terminal illness of Ruth, a lawyer, who has been diagnosed as having a brain tumor. Was it hard to write this? I watched my friend die; this story was one of the hardest to write. In another section, “Farah…

6 months ago

newyorker.com

Roddy Doyle on How an Idea Makes It to the Page

Last summer, in the southeast of Ireland, on a not particularly warm day, I saw a buggy “parked” on a beach very close to the water, faced toward the sea. I know the beach, and knew that the tide wasn’t going to reach the wheels of the buggy, or topple it, or anything so dramatic. But I did wonder about it. There were no adults nearby, or children, no towels or bags. I thought about going down to check if there was a baby in the buggy, but decided against. I made a cup of coffee, read a few page…

5 months ago

newyorker.com

Annie Proulx on the Allure of the Ocean Deeps and the Value of Unin...

I wanted to write a story about the ocean deeps—why? Because they exist, and their unexplored charms are alluring. The most likely place an ordinary human would encounter the odd names and distant views of underwater features is flying above them. So it is logical to have our protagonist—our Virgil—peering out of a plane window at the unknown below. Arwen is a handsome man—he has his dead father’s high-arched nose and his yellow hair—but it’s not clear that his looks have brought him much luck.…

5 months ago

newyorker.com

Sally Rooney on Characters Who Arrive Preëntangled and Her Forthcom...

I started thinking about the encounter between these characters about three years ago. The two protagonists arrived in my head together, the same way my characters always have—in twos or threes (or fours or fives) rather than separately. That’s just the way it happens for me. If I only conceived of one character, I don’t think I would know what to do with him or her; it wouldn’t feel like much of an idea at all. But, because my protagonists arrive preëntangled in their various relationships, my…

5 months ago

newyorker.com

Ayşegül Savaş on Individuality, Agency, and Ideas of Home

When I’m considering whether a particular setup has the makings of a short story, I often think of these lines from Walter Benjamin: “Death is the sanction of everything that the storyteller can tell. He has borrowed his authority from death.” Benjamin’s words have guided me for years, even if I still find them quite mysterious. I interpret them to mean that a story must be told from the point of view of its ending. In “Freedom to Move,” the authority of death is quite literal: the grandfather h…

4 months ago

newyorker.com