Project Bookshelf: Claire Melanie Svec

A stack of books sitting horizontally against a white wall on wood flooring. From top to bottom, the titles read: Salvador by Joan Didion, The Ear Issue 26, The Hatred of Poetry by Ben Lerner, Paris in Our View, poems selected by Shakespeare and Company, The Carrying by Ada Limón, Call Us What We Carry by Amanda Gorman, Then the War by Carl Phillips, From, From by Monica Youn, The Hurting Kind by Ada Limón, Very Cold People by Sarah Manguso, Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado, Bloodchild by Olivia Butler, Milk Blood Heat by Dantiel Moniz, Where the Dead Sit Talking by Brandon Hobson, American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis, The Rules of Attraction by Brett Easton Ellis, and I'm Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy.

As my husband and I prepare for a year-long stay in Paris, where he will be attending school and I will be writing, I’ve gathered the most cherished books from my collection for this project. I’ve taken them out of their boxes and stacked them on the floor to serve as my traveling “bookshelf.”

A stack of books sitting horizontally against a white wall on wood flooring. A dilute calico cat is touching its nose to the top of the stack.
Kisa headbutting my stack.

This post would not be complete without acknowledging my cat, Kisa, who loved rubbing her face against the book covers and lounging next to the scattered paperbacks on the carpet as I took these photos. (Is this a bookshelf or a cat appreciation post?)

My collection includes several signed copies from author events I attended in college, and a few recommendations from a fiction professor, curated based on my workshop submissions. Admittedly, many of these books are partially read, especially the short story and poetry collections, which I’ve enjoyed on and off as my interest piqued for individual pieces.

I will highlight the most noteworthy of the stack. The book with the skinny green spine is an assigned reading from a Debates in Creative Writing class, The Hatred of Poetry by Ben Lerner. Despite my love for poetry, I appreciate this book’s candid examination of poetry’s inaccessibility and the struggle for poets to reach an audience. This reading, in particular, has deepened my appreciation for poets whose words spring to life and grab the reader (like Amanda Gorman, Ada Limón, and Carl Philips, whose collections are included here.)

There is also Paris in Our View, a unique poetry collection about Paris from authors all over the world. I picked this up from the Shakespeare and Company bookstore, where I made a brief stop as a tourist during a vacation in Paris last summer with my mom and sister. When my husband and I move this August, I hope to frequent this bookstore for its rumored status as the hub of English-speaking literary events, in addition to another bookstore called The Red Wheelbarrow.

Four books lay side-by-side on carpeted flooring. A calico cat sits in the top left corner of the picture. The titles of the book read from left to right: Where the Dead Sit Talking by Brandon Hobson, Milk Blood Heat by Dantiel Moniz, The Rules of Attraction by Brett Easton Ellis, and American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis.
The aforementioned recommendations from my fiction professor at UC Irvine, William Eng.

And then, of course, who could resist a title like I’m Glad My Mom Died? This memoir by Jennette McCurdy is nostalgic, insightful, and heartbreaking. Plus, the copy serves as a memento from when she visited my college, where I saw her speak in a live interview on her book. I remember her raw sincerity, how she candidly spoke to us on eating disorders and familial trauma. She stayed long after the allotted event time to answer our questions and tell more anecdotes about her nearby hometown, Anaheim, and other familiar spots close to the UC Irvine campus.

The last book I’ll mention is my physical copy of the literary magazine I was published in, Issue 26 of The Ear. I’ve flipped through it a few times, reading the other short story candidates, as well as the poetry of authors I had met the night of the launch party. I cherish this copy for the experience it’s linked to: standing at a podium, presenting a live reading, hearing praises from enthusiastic strangers, and connecting with talented writers.

These are not all my books, as I’ve moved from college to a city near my hometown, and now abroad. Not shown is my current Audible selection: Carrie by Stephen King. In an effort to catch up on missed-out classics, I gravitated toward Carrie for a couple of reasons: it’s King’s shortest work, and he and I share a similar interest in human morality. Also, I thought it’d be a good start to my audiobook collection, an initiative I’ve taken to make more time for reading amongst all of this packing chaos in my life currently.

Five books sit side-by-side on carpeted flooring. From left to right, the titles read: The Hurting Kind by Ada Limón, The Carrying by Ada Limón, Very Cold People by Sarah Manguso, From, From by Monica Youn, and Then the War by Carl Phillips.
My signed copies from attending author events at UC Irvine.

My collection is small but intentional. Truthfully, I often have a difficult time choosing what to consume, whether it is books, movies, or TV shows. Too often, I’ve invested in stories that decline in quality or fail to keep me interested. Tired tropes and unoriginal observations turn me away, in addition to anything that feels too cheesy or juvenile.

My tastes have drastically evolved from my childhood, when I enjoyed fiction as vicarious fantasy. First it was the Magic Treehouse series, then Percy Jackson & the Olympians, The Hunger Games Trilogy, Harry Potter, and A Series of Unfortunate Events. Though they fostered fond memories, I now seek entertainment that adds value to my adult life. I choose titles from diverse perspectives that grip me with strong opinions and an investigative voice. This is why I rely on a fellow writer’s recommendation, along with their personal connection to the piece.

All this to say… I am open to book recommendations!


Claire Melanie Svec holds a BA in Psychology with a Minor in Creative Writing from the University of California, Irvine. She is a writer, poet, and singer-songwriter whose work focuses on mental health, morality, and feminism. She has won the first-place prize in fiction for The Ear Literary Magazine‘s Linda Purdy Memorial Prize. In addition to her editorial internship with Sundress Publications, she is currently serving as a fiction reader for West Trade Review.

Meet Our New Intern: Claire Melanie Svec

A Latina woman sits on a rock, wearing a purple dress and holding a moon in her hands. In the background, there is the shadow of a tree and city lights.

Literature was not, in fact, my first love. It was music. I have been singing for as long as I can remember. In second grade, I proudly proclaimed to my class that my future career would be “the winner of American Idol!” Although I loved singing, I didn’t start writing until I was fifteen. I met a friend, another fifteen-year-old and a self-taught pianist. He produced melodies from his mind and asked me to write the words and sing. The first few songs were juvenile, but what would you expect from a couple of drama kids who loved Marina and the Diamonds and Melanie Martinez? I soon realized that my love for music was inextricably tied to my need to feel heard, to use my voice.

In high school, I began to seriously write and explore forms other than lyrics in my creative writing class. I remember how our teacher pounded this mantra into us: Be original. He disliked tired phrases more than illogical metaphors, which taught me to push the limits of my writing. I remember once describing the roof of a building, covered in fall leaves, as a crusted lasagna with parmesan cheese sprinkles. The class period was just before lunch, so I suppose that was the influence. Alongside creative writing, I fell in love with AP Psychology, and the scientific structures of the human mind.

After graduating, I moved from my small town in California’s Wine Country to Southern California for college. Alongside developmental childhood and abnormal psychology courses, I took poetry classes, expanding on what I had learned and observed through songwriting. For this reason, poetry has always felt safe to me. The phonetics, the rhyming—I had that down. But poetry, being ancient, experimental, and crossing so many boundaries, spoke to me, even if half the time I couldn’t fully understand why.

Eventually, I transitioned into fiction. This felt not only difficult, but humiliating, painful, and like downright psychological torture. We’ve all been there, sitting for hours pouring your guts out on a page, then realizing it’s too wordy, difficult to follow, and does not convey its themes well. I was lucky. I had fantastic professors who read my work, provided detailed notes, and gave me exercises to dissect the essence of my writing, pull it apart, and stitch it back up. My experience is far from that of a typical young writer—my first serious attempt at writing a short story won a local fiction competition, a feat which blossomed into a commitment to keep pursuing this passion.

Throughout these forms of writing, my central love for voice persisted. I want to be heard, as does everyone else, and art gives us that opportunity to speak to the heart. Music can captivate you with a catchy tune then make you cry during the bridge. Poetry can touch you in strange ways and lead you down its premeditated path. Literature masks reality within a story, often revealing ugly truths, stirring something from within.

Understanding the psychology of humans—our society, power structures, and culture—further fuels my writing. Capturing these nuances in diverse stories from diverse individuals gives us the power to produce empathy and, hopefully, justice for those our systems have failed.

It is an incredible opportunity to learn through Sundress Publications: to elevate bright, diverse voices, and to share their stories with the public. I hope the small role I play can help expose hidden truths, make us see what we try to ignore, and inspire human connection.


Claire Melanie Svec holds a BA in Psychology with a Minor in Creative Writing from the University of California, Irvine. She is a writer, poet, and singer-songwriter whose work focuses on mental health, morality, and feminism. She has won the first-place prize in fiction for The Ear Literary Magazine‘s Linda Purdy Memorial Prize. In addition to her editorial internship with Sundress Publications, she is currently serving as a fiction reader for West Trade Review.