Jake Kinstler has enjoyed success on the Harper Joy Theater stage with his plays “Killers, Priests, Sinners & Whores” and “Can We Love After The Apocalypse?” Now, the wordsmith has been chosen by his fellow students as the “Best Senior Writer.” The Pioneer recently asked Kinstler to talk about his win.
Pio: Which person in your life helped you cultivate your skills as a writer? What do you like to write about?
Kinstler: My parents certainly started me down the path. When I was little, my mom made up stories to tell me every night before I fell asleep. She also read books to me before I could read them myself. My dad basically taught me how to write in middle school and high school. He stressed clarity and simple language, so when he reads my writing these days, he probably thinks of himself as a failure. Scott Elliott, the fiction professor here at Whitman, really awakened the writer in me and helped me [in developing] a voice of my own. Finally, Kristen Kosmas, a visiting playwright for the Instant Play Festival earlier this year, introduced me to play writing and showed me an entirely different direction I could take. As for my writing, I find myself most natural and excited when I write about things that aren’t real, and trying to discover where they can intersect with things that are real.
Pio: Who is your favorite fiction author?
Kinstler: Favorite author? That’s a hell of a question. So I will offer you three with no explanation: Jorge Luis Borges, Neil Gaiman and William Faulkner.
Pio: What is one of your fondest memories as a senior at Whitman?
Kinstler: One of my fondest memories? Well, one that doesn’t involve drinking too much beer at the Green and conversing with 40-year-old divorcees and tattoo artists would be the One-Act [Play Contest]. It was an absolute blast and one of the most rewarding activities I’ve been a part of.
Pio: What’s next for you as a post-baccalaureate?
Kinstler: Fear. I’m being cast out of Eden to wander alone though a scorched and broken country. But I do have a few plans. Very randomly, a hotel owner in the Olympic Peninsula is commissioning me to adapt a novel into a play this summer. Also, I might be living in an R.V. and caretaking the Snoqualmie Outdoor Theater. The world’s a strange place sometimes.
Regardless of what happens with those, I’ll be applying to creative writing graduate schools this coming fall. After that, there’s nothing but an uncertain canvas stretching into the dark.
