Author of Like Lucinda.
Jesse Binger has a thing for box scores, strong black coffee, and apparently watching people fall. He's also been mildly traumatized by a clown he once encountered at a red light, which, honestly, seems reasonable.
We asked Jesse a bunch of questions that had almost nothing to do with writing and learned about a band that never got a name, a night out that required approximately seven bars to get home, and a lifelong habit of paying entirely too much attention to sports statistics.
Somewhere in there, we talked about writing, too. But mostly we just wanted to know what makes Jesse tick. Or itch. Whatever.
Here's Jesse.
What’s something completely ordinary that you pay an unreasonable amount of attention to?
Box scores. Sports. I’m a sports junkie. Been that way since I was a kid. When I was young, we didn’t have all this online information, SportsCenter reruns, information overload. So I’d get up with a newspaper and devour all the box scores.
Baseball, basketball, football, whatever.
It’s funny how much you can learn from numbers alone. And nowadays even with the ability to watch any game, any highlight at any time, I still love the simplicity of reading a box score and mapping out the game in my head. But now it’s on my phone, rather than the page.
What kind of memory sticks to you? Not necessarily the important ones—the ones your brain refuses to throw away.
I tend to remember a lot from my teens and twenties. I’ll date myself but the 90s are frequently the timeframe for a lot of my short stories. I think it’s that era when you first get your freedom. Your first car. The loss of a curfew. So many aimless nights, each with its own story that still sticks there in my brain, for some reason.
Like a night back around 2000 when the LIRR was shut down. Trying to make it home turned into an adventure. Multiple subways, cab rides, hikes over bridges, about seven bars, plenty of new friends, all culminating with me ending up on my front stoop around 4am. Two hours later, I was back on the train heading to work.
What are you obsessed with lately that has nothing to do with literature?
Well I won’t say sports again. And since writing and lit is out, it’s a tough one. I’m obsessed with coffee. But that’s probably a cliché a lot of writers lean into. But yeah, a nice piping hot cup of strong black coffee, sitting in the backyard, a cool breeze, my dog running laps and getting into trouble. Probably looking at box scores too (or writing) but we won’t name those!
What’s something perfectly ordinary to other people that makes you irrationally uncomfortable?
Small talk. I mean, I never got into it. The weather. Traffic. How was your day off? And working in corporate, like, those Zoom call starts. Not my thing. Unless we can talk about sports. Or books. Or coffee. Then I’m in.
If you could dig through a box of everything you’ve ever lost in your life, what’s the first thing you’re digging for?
So I’m really good at saving and holding on to prized possessions, and not sure if this is meant to be physical or theoretical but I guess somewhere in the box are loved ones long gone, friends that have drifted away, old pets. All alive and breathing again.
It’s the who and not the what for me, for sure.
Though I did lose a shitload of contact lenses in my life. So loved ones, plus contact lenses.
What something that makes you laugh but probably shouldn’t?
People falling unexpectedly (no injuries of course!). But gotta love the pratfall. My father was a big slapstick fan - idolized Chevy Chase who was the master of the pratfall. Every big event there was, be it a wedding or fancy dinner, my father would make sure to do the fake trip and fall flat on his face. The gasps that would arise...Is he okay? I still crack up thinking about it.
Are there any people you’ve met only briefly, in passing, who linger in your memory?
I played in a lot of bands when I was younger. I remember these couple of dudes I met in college. Drummer and a bass player. We got together. Me and a buddy of mine played guitar. We had a few practices and damn, we sounded tight. In the pocket. But as life goes, things got in the way. Girlfriends, part-time jobs, bullshit. We fell out, those dudes disappeared, and I still think about what might have been if we stuck together. Didn’t even have a name but the music coming out of my basement never sounded better.
What’s the single weirdest thing you’ve ever witnessed?
Oh man, that’s a tough one. I grew up in NY, worked for many years in NYC - so you can probably just imagine the weirdness I’ve run into. Maybe not the weirdest, but I remember driving home one night in my 20s. Pulled up at a light and a car pulls up in the next lane. I take a quick glance over and it’s a clown. Full clown suit. Makeup. Funny nose, everything. We make brief eye contact then the light changes. Never drove home so fast.
What’s currently itching at you?
Man, this writing itch. I wrote a lot when I was younger. Then stopped. Y’know, life gets in the way. About two years ago I returned to it. Since then, it’s like a fever that won’t break. I get stories that pop into my head in the car, on the train, in bed, and it’s like a mad rush to get them on page, before they dissipate. So, yeah...big itch there. The nice thing is I finally have the time and motivation to scratch it. Got a novel out on submission so now I’m refreshing my inbox like I refresh box scores.
Jesse Binger writes crime and literary fiction, much of it set on Long Island, New York, where he grew up. His short fiction has appeared in numerous literary journals and anthologies, including Cowboy Jamboree, Bending Genres, Rock and a Hard Place, and Stanchion. His work has received nominations for Best of the Net and Best Microfiction. He has one novel on submission and others waiting in the wings. When he's not writing, he's probably checking box scores, drinking strong black coffee, or chasing after his Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. Find him at jessebinger.com and on X at: @jessebinger.
