Writing, Identity, and Balance: A Q&A with Rachel Noelani Bovee
November 13, 2026

Rachel Noelani Bovee, a hapa Native Hawaiian born and raised in San Francisco, received her MFA in Creative Writing from California College of the Arts. She mostly writes fiction & essays and is currently working on her debut novel. Her work appears most recently in NUNUM. Rachel lives with her partner and two preschoolers in Seoul where she writes and works as an English professor at Kyunghee University.
Her flash essay, To The Boy Who Looks Like My Ex, appears in Issue #25.
Tell us a bit about yourself, something more than just what’s in your bio. Perhaps something not a lot of people know.
Every autumn, I read Anne of Green Gables. I first read her in the third grade. I’m on my umpteenth read currently, in fact. I’m not an orphan or a redhead or a white woman or from PEI or someone who has even been to Canada actually, but something about the big-hearted, bull-headed, awkward, emotional, wordy girl in that book struck some chords for little girl me and I’ve been drawn to visit her, both Anne and that little girl who felt seen, every year since.
What unique or surprising detail can you tell us about the revision process?
When I was probably 80% of the way through, my laptop crashed out and I lost more than half of the essay. At the time, I felt so precious about the words and the lines and the writing choices that I was so sure I couldn’t recover enough to repeat the assumed brilliance that was there before. Oddly enough, or maybe not because I feel like I’ve heard this from other writers before, the freedom that came with losing the work and having a second shot at really crafting and organizing the ideas that already existed into something more polished and more deeply considered was so much better. More natural, more rhythmic and true.
What did you learn (about yourself, craft, or life in general) through writing and revising it?
I love how you can write stories within stories, weaving back and forth between them. This piece has a bit of that happening and it was so much fun to stretch those muscles and improve the craft of that while writing this.
What do you hope readers take from the essay?
I hope readers can see themselves and their own complex interactions with their own pasts within the piece. I think often humans tend to be on either end of the spectrum when we consider parts of our past—either glorifying it as the good ole “better” days or shuddering at the heartbreaking challenges that had to be overcome and, thankfully, left behind. But I think the more common, less talked about case is that sometimes it is both of those things and, as a result, equals out to being kind of bittersweetly neutralized. There is a comfort and closure in realizing that; at least, that is what I experienced in creating this piece.
At what point in your life did you begin writing and working on creative nonfiction, and is flash your jam, or do you also write longer essays?
Although it makes me really uncomfortable, I’ve probably been off and on writing creative nonfiction for a very long time. In a formal way, that probably started when I was 18 or 19 studying under Chris Kraus in the Literature/Writing undergraduate program at UC San Diego. She really pushed me to search for honesty and be unafraid to meet it face-to-face. But this is my first time submitting and being published in CNF. I love that it is in flash because I adore flash. I remember the first time I read Lydia Davis in high school and realized that the short (very overwrought adolescent-y) slips of creativity I was scrawling in corners of my notebooks and in the backs of my books could maybe someday actually be legitimate and meaningful—be “real writing”. I do, though, also write longer pieces—essays, short stories, and, currently in the long process of drafting, a novel.
What was the most impactful part of your MFA experience?
Honestly, community. Learning from published and varied writers, getting opportunities to meet working writers in the community, building up my own peer community of writer friends who I trust as readers, as critics, as friends—that’s all been priceless. I don’t think getting an MFA is the only way to dive into the craft of writing but getting immediate unfiltered access to an entire community of writers is pretty magical.
What fuels your desire to write?
Is it strange to say because it feels like the thing I have to do? I’ve been doing it for so long and go in and out of productive seasons but its always there—like a birthmark or a mole. A desire to be read is what motivates the actual enagement aspect but writing feels survival, just like breathing or walking.
How do you make expression a part of your daily life, or how do you find a balance between your writing and other responsibilities?
This has been such a hard journey for me. I am a full-time working mom of two pretty young and really active (read: wild) boys. My husband, who also works a lot, and I have built parenting community around us but have no family or best friends nearby so we handle all of the real grunt of parenting ourselves without the support of a really close or interwoven village. Making time for my writing has, especially since having my first son in 2020, felt impossible and selfish. But over the past few years, I’ve worked hard to change that mindset and carve out time for it. I don’t have the ability to always write along the same schedule so instead I make broader, practical writing goals for myself—applying to a certain amount of residencies every season, submitting to a certain amount of lit mags every month, getting in a certain minimum word count done on my novel every day, etc. Sometimes, its done late at night for hours long blocks and, sometimes, its done in twenty minute pockets between work and pickups or in between the classes I teach.
What have been the biggest influences in your writing?
I think just women, as a whole. Women writers, women teachers, women artists, women activists, women in my family, women who are my friends, women in the news, women in the community.
What do you think when you hear, “the good life”?
Being next to the water, all the water, any water, especially the ocean’s water. Laughter. Nature walks. Holding hands. Lowered cortisol. Kids falling asleep in arms, on shoulders. Warm blankets. Full stomachs. Cool breezes. Lots and lots of beverages. Voice notes. Bills that are paid. Conversations that feel edifying. Hugs when happy, hugs when sad. Deep and cleansing sobbing. Future goals. Traveling to new places. Meeting people who surprise, in the best ways. Quiet nights after everyone’s asleep. Safety. Books and books, and so many more books.
Thank you, Rachel, for sharing you flash CNF with us. We’re glad you found the courage to start putting more of your writing out in the world. Thanks also for taking the time to participate in this Q&A. We appreciate you being a part of our growing community and wish you continued success with writing, the novel, and all of life’s endeavors!

