Sparkling wine, the New York Knicks, and a pair of heels you absolutely cannot walk in. In this episode, Josh and Dasha get deep into the undefined territory of writer’s voice—what’s the actual definition, whether you can find it or whether it’s already found you, and why trying to write like the writers you love might be the most seductive trap in the craft. Plus, a Reddit post from a self-described edgelord who writes Omegaverse fanfic and can’t stop adding flowery language—and why their “problem” might not be a problem at all.

A bottle of heretical French wine, a five-year taste arc, and a 1,000-page German novel put down out of sheer pettiness. In this episode, Josh and Dasha trace the evolution of a writing sensibility: from angular Hemingway sentences to something velvety and unnecessary, like a Californian Pinot Noir. Then: an anonymous listener asks how you know when a poem is done, and whether every word has to hit.

Banana pudding guilt, a stalker, and a trip back to Michigan that refused to cooperate. In this episode, Josh and Dasha wade into the murky gap between a research trip and a writing residency—and why confusing the two might be the cruelest thing you can do to yourself. Then, the triumphant return of Reddit dot com, where writers explain “why they stop writing (only the truth).”

Recorded live on the busiest day of AWP 26 in Baltimore, Josh and Dasha drag a microphone onto the conference floor—ambient noise, raised voices, a missing scarf, and all—for the first of two episodes from the convention.

Crowded trains, rolled manuscripts, and ten stolen minutes with a sleeping baby—Part 2 of First Person Present’s special Night Moves episode opens with an honest look at what a writing practice actually looks like when life refuses to cooperate.

Can subtlety be taught, or is it something a writer either has or doesn’t? In this late-night edition of First Person Present, Josh and Dasha crack open a bottle of wine, announce a shift to biweekly episodes ahead of AWP, and wrestle with the question every writer dreads.