Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Maxine Rose Munro

is a Shetlander adrift on the outskirts of Glasgow. After spending the first eighteen years of her life exclusively on the islands, without even a small break for the holidays, the culture shock experienced on eventually seeing the wider world rocked her to her core and is still rocking some decades later. However, as the end result appears to be poetry, she is fairly ok with this. She has been writing poetry in for a few years now and her work has been widely published both in print and online, including in Northwords Now; Glasgow Review of Books; Pushing Out the Boat; and The Eildon Tree. She also publishes in her native Shetland Scots, some of which can be found in Poetry Scotland and Three Drops from a Cauldron. Her work has been nominated for The Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, and shortlisted for the SMHAFF Award 2017. Find her here

http://www.maxinerosemunro.com

The Interview

1. What inspired you to write poetry?

I loved poetry as a child and wrote a lot of it when I was at primary school. It just seems such a natural way to express yourself when you are a child and words are fairly new and exciting. Adults become jaded. I think they acquire too many words, and never need the leaps of imagination children must employ to describe the things they see and feel.

Unfortunately when I hit teen years poetry was killed for me. I couldn’t relate to Plath, Owen, Yeats and the like. And the teachers couldn’t relate to my attempts at poetry. I expect there was also a huge dose of ‘don’t you know who I am? I’m great at poetry’ going on. So I abandoned it.

In 2013 two things happened, I was bought a poetry anthology that changed my world, and I had a very bad experience.

Knowing I was poetically inclined, someone gave me a copy of “These Islands, We Sing” edited by Kevin MacNeil, and for the first time since childhood I heard my own voice in poetry. I suddenly saw my own words were good enough, I didn’t have to be Plath.

Reading this anthology and trying to get strong again after the hell me and my family had been through, I suddenly knew I had poetry I had to get out. And I had to get it out to the world. So I started submitting the very second I had some completed poems.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

It was always just there when I was growing up. My dad’s a big reader, especially of local poetry. Various Shetland journals were always lying around, and poetry was a strong part of them.

I take after him in that I read a lot, and I discovered Lewis Carroll and Edward Lear when still quite young. At about the same age I saved up and bought myself a Spike Milligan collection from the Puffin Book Club and I just loved it. I still rate him as my favourite poet, ever.

We had so many wonderful poetry books -“The Butterfly Ball” was another favourite of mine. But to be honest, no one introduced me to poetry. It was always there.

3. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older poets?

Not at all. As I said, poetry died for me when I was presented with ‘great poetry’ in my higher English classes. It wasn’t that I couldn’t appreciate it (or some of it), but that it all felt old, or clinical, or technical, or just plain baffling. I’m very plain spoken, very straight with my words when I write, and I only quake in awe in the presence of poets who do the same but better than I ever could.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

I don’t have a routine. I write on my phone, when a poem comes to me. I really don’t bother with the whole write something everyday thing. I think that’s more important if you are a novelist and need discipline and focus. But poetry starts in your subconscious and, for me at least, needs time to brew. The writing is the second, less important stage. I suppose instead I try to make sure that everyday I am feeding my subconscious by reading, walking, listening, experiencing. That’s where the poetry comes from.

5. What motivates you to write?

There are two things I look for in a poem. Either a brilliant story that just gives itself to the shortness of poetry. Or juxtaposition. By this I mean taking something small and tangible, and relating it to something huge and intangible. Or the other way round. Or variations thereof. So anytime I find this, I want to write about it.

6. What is your work ethic?

In the way life can bring you good things after bad, I am lucky enough to be able to not have to go out to work these days. But I know now that I have to balance everything, and that’s what comes first. My home, family, and sanity come first. Once that’s all dealt with, I fit in sewing and writing. But when it makes me unhappy I stop and go do something else.

7. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

Milligan, Lear, Carroll, and all the other poetry of my childhood influences me all the time, in every way. I don’t try to write like them, I think that much is obvious. But it was those poets and poems that taught me to look at the world in a certain way, to link things into interesting groups, to join up dots wherever I saw them, and then turn all that into words. I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t for those early poets. I wouldn’t know how.

8. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

I tend to admire poems over poets. I’ve never found a poet yet that could put out amazing poem after amazing poem. But the books on my shelf that I pick up the most tend to be by Scottish or Scandinavian poets, and the thing they all have in common is ‘sparse’. By that I mean they specialise in saying the most with the least. In addition, they all write poetry that places emphasis on meaning. I dislike poetry that turns out to be a beautiful string of images and nothing more. Some poets I like are Kathleen Jamie, Ian Stephen, Helen Allison, Hans Børli, Olav H. Hauge.

9. Why do you write, as opposed to doing anything else?

Writing is my identity, but I need to do other stuff. It’s less that I write instead of doing something else, and more I do everything I do to feed the writing. Saying that, I am the introvert’s introvert and I don’t need to be swinging off treetop ropes getting migraines from sheer terror to find material ( I have swung from the tree tops, the experience has yet to make it into poetry!). I have a little hand-stitching business, in which I use tweed my father designs and weaves in Shetland. This takes up more time than poetry for much of the year. But what I have found is that while I rarely write while focusing on my sewing, as soon as I stop a huge rush of poems that have been brewing in the background come out. It’s quite exhilarating.

10. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

Well, despite me saying I don’t write everyday, you do have to write and write a lot. I don’t believe you have to take creative writing degrees or post grad studies. But a bit of guidance is helpful. Writers groups or online courses (there are a good few reputable ones out there) are useful. If you are able, and not a complete introvert like me, then open mic nights are a brilliant way to get your poetry skills honed. And if you are a complete introvert like me, accept you still have to do some readings occasionally. And submit. And listen to feedback. And submit again. And realise you are hooked and this will be your life forever now. Then you’ll you be a writer. Woohoo!

11. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

Well, I have always been unsure where I am going, I just started and couldn’t stop. But, nearing the 100 poems published mark I am thinking it’s time to get a pamphlet or three out. So I’ll be getting my head down and writing. The hardest part will be not submitting poems when I am convinced they’re awesome and all I want to do is share them with the world.

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Ava Hofmann

Originally from Oxford, Ohio, Ava Hofmann is a writer currently living and working as an MFA student in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. She has poems published in or forthcoming from Black Warrior Review, Fence, Anomaly, Best American Experimental Writing 2020, The Fanzine, Datableed, and Peachmag. Her poetry deals with trans/queer identity, Marxism, and the frustrated desire inherent to encounters with the archive. Her twitter is @st_somatic and her nausea-inducing website is www.nothnx.com

The Interview

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews – Ava Hofmann

1. What inspired you to write poetry?

I really got hooked into poetry when I was a sophomore in a high school creative writing class. Like before this class, I was completely convinced I was going be a prose writer—I had been writing short stories and half-assed attempts at novels since I was in grade school. But then in that class I first encountered slam poetry and that was kind of the end of prose writing for me—reading and writing poetry spoke to me on a completely different level than what prose has ever done. And the rest is the disaster of my life!!!

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

So, the above is technically a lie, because the first “poem” that I ever wrote—more of a song, really—was written when I was in grade school, and it was called “The Grand Old Flag Bit Off My Nose.” Basically, it was about various U.S. monuments inflicting various injuries to my body. I would like to say that this was some kind of childly intuition about the way in which the government intervenes upon our bodies, but I really think it was just that when I was a kid I was really into the idea of all this Americana just absolutely going into me and ripping me to shreds. I think as kids we’re introduced to poetry through like nursery rhymes and shit, and we kind of intuitively know what they’re doing but don’t really understand that that something is called “poetry.” Then it gets disciplined out of you in grade-school, so you have to relearn what poetry is when you’re an edgy teenager or a too-serious college student or whatever.

Anyway, the person who taught that class that sent my on a poetry-trajectory was named Mr. Aerni, and I guess he was ok. He was really into the very hip, very sellable typewriters-and-coffee version of writing, which I just have always had a weird antipathy for. But I really appreciate the space he gave us to really write and explore.

The people who really showed me what I wanted from poetry and what poetry could really be were my undergrad creative writing professors—Cathy Wagner, Keith Tuma, and cris cheek. They all were so important for the development of my work, and for introducing me to the work of some of my major poetic inspirations.

3. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older poets?

I felt super aware of it, and still do. I remember thinking as an undergrad, when I was first studying poetry seriously, “where are all the poets who are under 30? Or at least under 40?” And this isn’t to like, knock older poets, but to ask a question about why there’s this weird thing going on with age diversity in the poetry community—there’s basically this grist mill of younger writers, and then the few poets who survive the grinder get to have institutional jobs and something resembling actual careers in poetry.

I think there’s obviously a little bit of an age bias in how an audience forms around writers, like—poets who have been in publishing for a longer time are obviously going to be more ‘established’ than younger poets, and so it’s more likely you’ve heard of an older poet. But this is also made worse by certain institutional structures surrounding the poetry “business”. Basically, to be someone with a full time job in poetry, you’re probably in the academy, which has a tendency towards seniority due to the tenure system. Meanwhile, some of the best poetry in the last 10 years or so was (as always) probably put out in random photocopied zines in editions of like 20 / posted to a deleted personal blog / published in now-defunct micro presses and then immediately forgotten, which makes accessible archives of this work which excites me very difficult to create.

All this creates this generational divide in the poetry community between these older and younger writers, rather than really allowing poets to approach each other as members of the same community. I think elements of the structural power imbalance between teachers and students might be a big part of it, that this imbalance in academia also gets played out in our artform.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

Bold of you to assume I have a daily writing routine! I end up tending to work in obsessive spurts where I produce a large amount of work in a short amount of time. In the first four months of 2019 I produced the first draft for two different chapbooks, for example. In-between those spurts, however, I’m basically procrastinating on writing and getting nothing done. It’s awful!!!!

5. What motivates you to write?

1) gay energy
2) sleep deprivation
3) the perverse enjoyment of writing absolute weirdo homo-garbage

6. What is your work ethic?

Honestly, I think my work ethic is pretty bad! Maybe it’s because capitalist work/productivity culture has structured our idea of labour around “continuous” work (the pervasive idea of the “9 to 5” job), but my irregular writing pattern makes me feel like I’m wasting a lot of time.

If you mean ethic in a sense of, like, what is the “ethos” of my “work”, I really value the same kind of intermittent access to real life which already comes out in my ability to consistently work—basically, if it’s not obvious, my bad work ethic comes from a place of being a low-energy and probably depressed person, and so my work, too, is about a search for value in the midst of the ruins of a life, to find pleasure in lacunae. This is just a very pretentious way to say that I’m all about being tired all the time.

7. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

Wow, the books I read when I was young? Sometimes I feel like my life didn’t really start until my first year of college. I was a completely different person back then— religion, politics, gender, everything. That includes my taste in writing and art. I try not to think that much about my how I was back then.

One of the first poets I read and fell in love with was e. e. cummings—which, like, now is kind of embarrassing for me and there are a bunch of reasons why I’m not into him very much nowadays. But his work ended up being my first introduction into the type of experimental/visual poetry I personally value. I think a lot of his experiments into the visual dimension of poetry were kind of surface-level, but since I don’t think it was likely I was going to encounter any deep high-concept visual poetry living in an insularly Christian family in small-town Ohio, I owe a lot to that surface-level stuff kind of blowing open my mind about what was possible on the page.

I think another thing which is still maybe a big influence on my relationship to reading and writing today has been my process with understanding the text’s relationship to the writer. I grew up with my main exposure to textual analysis being through the religious study of the bible, which I was taught was an infallible text. So during my freshman year of college, when I first read Derrida’s writing on differance, and discovered that texts in and of themselves contain contradictory meanings which cannot resolve—that this imperfection was a fundamental feature of signification—it really changed my understanding of the world. Derrida was really the starting place for me to unlearn my religious indoctrination. And from that, I began to really value text as a place of irreducible contradictions, a space wherein resolution is impossible. This is probably why my writing is so concerned with visual elements and with gaps / revisions / doublings.

8. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

Gosh, there are so many writers who I absolutely adore:

Jos Charles’s historical bending of language towards the possibility of a trans future/past/present/resistance in feeld is work that I find really deeply inspiring. It’s kind of incredible it exists and is getting a lot of traction!

M. NourbeSe Philip’s Zong! is an incredible work which is perhaps one of the most incredible deployments of documentary form and content in poetry. It’s a masterpiece.

So much of Douglas Kearney’s work and process is so influential on my interests when it comes to form & the relationship to the reader/writer to the text.

I have to admit that Chelsey Minnis’s pseudo-ironic relationship to poetry and the poetic line is mega-appealing to me.

God, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Also shout-outs to Kinsey Cantrell, Never Angeline Nørth, V Conaty, Jayy Dodd, essa may ranapiri, and Mika, who are all people I really admire. There are so many others, but I don’t want to endlessly namedrop!!!!

9. Why do you write, as opposed to doing anything else?

I mean, I do, in fact, do other things? A lot of my work is multi-medium. And I’m, like, a person, you know? I don’t want being a “writer” to overshadow that.

I know you mean, why do poetry at all? Honestly, this is an intractable question that assumes I’m able to confidently diagnose the causes of my own desires, which I don’t really think I can do. I mean, on some level for me, there’s an affective pleasure to assembling words together in poetry—creating synchronicity between language and its special arrangement on the page. Maybe there’s some kind of psychological or synesthetic attraction to poetry, but I don’t think I’m aware of my own cognition enough to know what that is. You could probably also pathologize my writing to be about my transness or being a low-energy person or the problems I had with communication when I was a kid.

If I wanted to assign a narrative to my actions, though, I think I would say that I’ve been writing stories, poetry, etc. ever since I was a little kid and so there’s just a little bit of inertia there. I think I’ve always known that writing is kind of a private passageway out of that which consumes and totalizes our lives, a place where I can find pleasure even when pleasure or happiness seemed impossible. When I was still in the cult-culture of my upbringing, poetry was a big part of both my devotional practice and my exploration of my gender. I could imagine for myself the possibility of being a woman, even if that woman was worshipping a religion that hated her. So there, I guess I provided the pathology for you. But even then, for me, it’s kind of the opposite of pathology—poetry is the site of my own personal possibility of desire.

10. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

By writing. If you’re putting time into the artform, you’re a writer.

Yeah, I know that the person who is asking that question is really asking “how do you become a professional writer?”, but that question is really just another way of asking of “how do I make money by writing?” I’m pretty sure that’s a question which is plaguing and unanswerable for the vast majority of writers. I mean, almost nobody makes anything like a living wage from writing and selling copies of their poetry—it’s all from teaching, or doing talks, or some other institutional work which has coalesced around the medium. If you’re really wanting to do something poetry-adjacent as your job, you’re probably going to have to be lucky and/or have institutional favour in order to snag that kind of work. Oh, and you’re also probably going to have to be ok with these institutions being funded by money-laundering fronts for the bourgeoisie and/or the frantic workers’ nightmare of academia. Seriously! Actually look at who is funding like the four wealthy poetry institutions out there.

I know this sounds really pessimistic about the poetry business, but I actually find this is pretty liberating. I’ve been trying to “be a writer” since I first learned how to read, but my writing only really started coming from a good and genuine place when I stopped trying to “be a writer” and started instead trying to be a real person with a real life—coming out, escaping the cult-y environment which defined my entire upbringing, learning about the real world. Writing was and is the vehicle for my escape into a non-totalized life—for me, there’s something really valuable about poetry’s ability to be kind of secret and personal, even when someone else is reading it. It took me a long time to realize that I don’t need an artform I happen to practice to totalize everything about me.

This is why I answer the question literally: live your life first, write second. You’re still a writer. If you make your art practice all about institutional fealty or literary clout, you might as well just sell out by writing ad copy for some oil barons’ fascist propaganda wing or whatever, you know? Fuck that. Write to agitate. Write to organize. Write to discover new possibilities. Overthrow the ruling ontology!

11. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

I’m working on a few different writing projects in different stages of completion:

Leech-book, the full-length manuscript that I’m working on as my MFA thesis. Leech-book is a collection of visual poems which concern themselves with the form of the medieval charm or spell as a site of the frustrated desire inherent to queer encounters with the archive; leech-book, is in a sense, a historical fantasy that one could find a source of radical-queer power within the scraps of our history, and also the elegy for the impossibility of that fantasy.

that I want, a more personal visual-lyric chapbook. the poems, which explicitly feature elements being crossed out / revised / added onto as a visual element, use this element of self-revision as a formal entry-point into an examination of my trans identity.

plastic flowers, a chapbook of explicitly Marxist prose poems which explore the ways in which capital-power embeds itself into the ‘personal’ experiences of daily life. it’s kind of a mix between a personal journal and a stand-up tragicomedy routine.

And finally, the woman factory, which is a series of sonnets written in the voice of a sex android.

There’s published examples of work from most of these projects up on my website, nothnx.com Hopefully at least one of these messes will be in print at some point!

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Shivangi Chatterji

Focusing on grief poetry, Shivangi’s style wanders from weird, wise to whimsical. Growing up in a quaint suburb of Bombay (now Mumbai), her home overlooked the sea as she wrote and read her poems aloud to the birds on the terrace. Her ancestral home is in the hills, and the silence features in much of her poetry. A professional writer and editor for print and digital media, she is working towards publishing her own book (yet untitled) this year. Meanwhile, she continues to write some thematic poems on Instagram.

The Interview

1. What inspired you to write poetry?

My childhood was divided between the urban and rural – I grew up in Mumbai (then Bombay) and spent summers at my family’s farms in the foothills of the Himalayas. Being introverted, it was the stark contrast between the people and places that made communicating my thoughts all the more complex. I used my little ditties to express my thoughts through writing as a mode of communication with myself and with others.

Today, I mostly focus on grief poetry because of certain incidents in my life. When I tried to find solace through poetry, there weren’t many poets old or contemporary who could soothe a grieving soul. So, I started to write with a theme aside from my usual style.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

My grandfather gave the gift of words to my mother. She wrote short stories and rhymes herself, but mostly she got me to read and develop an ear for languages. She believes that listening well is the key to writing well. Most Indians are multilingual, and my family came to acquire diverse cultural influences through marriage and travel. I grew up on a steady diet of poetry in at least 7 languages and a plethora of Indian dialects. Thanks to my mother, I read and listened to verse in Sanskrit, Hindi, Urdu, English, Bengali, Burmese and Nepali. The rhythm and cadence of words is what keeps me looking for new channels for listening and writing.

3. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older poets?

The sheer number of poets in the Indian subcontinent is enough to put immense pressure on budding poets! Add to that the fact that my parents’ and grandparents’ generations were greatly influenced by British poetry as the British Raj brought new genres like Anglo-Indian poetry and Foot Soldier poetry to the fore. Classical Celtic/ Irish poets lined the bookshelves in my home as did Resistance poetry in English and Indian languages. Of course, nonsense rhymes by contemporary American poets like Dr. Seuss rivalled British poets’ like Roald Dahl.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

It was a choice made 15 years ago, when I started a career in publishing. Writing and editing all day long seemed to be the best thing ever! And, I was thrilled to get to be the first pair of eyes that discover new literature. But, the occupational hazard is that I am too washed out to channel my creativity into my own writing at the end of the day. So, I have no dedicated writing time. I write on Sundays, holidays, on days special to me and most importantly, on days when I am feeling particularly distressed. I have a huge collection of notebooks and pencils that silently say, “Dream me.”

5. What motivates you to write?

Since I write grief poetry, my main motivation is finding a healthy outlet for my feelings. In this modern day and age, expressing ourselves freely is an illusion. Social media psychobabble puts a timer on our feelings, tells us to be soft and uses empty motivation to fuel a cycle of negativity.

In the larger scheme of things, there is no time limit to when our inner child has to grow up or feel a certain way (even those that are perceived as positive… because who is to say that life is fair?). It is best to appreciate what is in the present moment and write about it. We may change tomorrow, we might forget today. The Japanese word ‘Mono-no-aware’ captures this feeling for me; it’s a word that sensitises us to the transience of this world just like a cherry blossom that blooms and withers in springtime. The fact that beauty fades is what motivates me to constantly strive to create it.

6. What is your work ethic?

To me, writing is a form of mindfulness. I let everything extraneous fall away only to singly select those things that remain. Like Michelangelo who saw the Statue of David when it was just a hunk of rock. Fears that bubble to the surface are scary, but I just sit with them and continue till I feel I’ve created something with care and distilled my sensorial experiences for the reader. But I also self-edit mercilessly and try to read from the POV of the reader.

7. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

For the longest time I thought of myself as someone like Alice – here and now, not in Wonderland. I was amazed to discover that writing could be a composition of prose, poetry and pictures. That is something that I carry with me as I illustrate my poems and short prose with inked doodles. They are often floral as the language of flowers is an added layer.

Closer home, I still like the good ole’ stuff – Dom Moraes and Sarojini Naidu. I cannot seem to outgrow them. Kamini Roy is a poetess who was a social activist and champion of women’s rights. I share my birthdate with her – just not the year! Her poetry is probably fiercely feminist and elegantly simple. The sheer research and the vivid historical storytelling in Amitav Ghosh’s works are awe-inspiring. Their style of storytelling is what I hope to emulate.

8. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

I was introduced to ‘The Wombwell Rainbow’ by Steve Denehan. A talented poet himself, I responded to his poems on Twitter because his work strikes that fine balance of logic and creative – just extremely honest poetry, no frills attached.

I think I am still lagging behind in discovering new poets that I really admire. I do see a lot of Instapoetry (poetry written on Instagram, often it takes the form of confessional poetry) as I too use Instagram for publishing my own poems at the moment. There are a couple of noteworthy accounts that I read and I’m constantly discovering awesome works on groups like ByMePoetry, EvePoetry and Her Heart Poetry. Personally, I’m honoured to have been a featured poet in these groups. They find some amazing folks 🙂

An unusual poet who inspires me is Korean pop artiste Kim Jonghyun. It is really unfortunate that his book Skeleton Flower: Things That Have Been Released and Set Free released post-mortem. The book is in Korean and I had to patiently wait for a fellow fan to translate it for international fans. I’ve followed Jonghyun’s career since his debut in 2008 and it really saddened me that his magnum opus released in 2018 would also be his last. His mastery of the craft shines through in his book and accompanying music album.

9. Why do you write, as opposed to doing anything else?

The embarrassing reason was that I started to write was because I was painfully introverted and escaping to my study was the easiest form of personal catharsis. But as I shared what I wrote with others, people began to relate and that really makes me happy about it. It’s a fulfilling sense of community that I can do with just my computer or a plain notebook. I make other forms of art and even therapeutic practices but writing offers the most interesting balance of what’s within and without.

10. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

Simply by writing. There is no teacher better than practice. Then, start expanding your writing circle to writing groups. Find a mentor or writing buddy. It’s very fluid really, and you do what works best for you. I like to create solitary but definitely like to take feedback from a group. Online groups have helped me find writing buddies and prompts. The goal is just so that you are happy with the output, and the sheer fact that you write keeps you in a state of momentum that’s constantly sparking new ideas.

11. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

Currently, there are two personal projects I’m working on:

1) https://www.instagram.com/kelticfae/
This is my Instagram that is a collection of grief poems dedicated to everyday objects, places and faces that remind me of someone who is no longer walking this world with me.

2) This is a WIP manuscript with poems and prose about life and love. Some of the poems were originally written as song lyrics (and I call them sonGEMS = song + poems). This manuscript also contains poetry as artwork. The working title is Madrugada and it’s named after a Norwegian alt-rock band. I hope to have that one out by end of this year.

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these fiction writers you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Kari A. Flickinger

was a 2019 nominee for the Rhysling Award, and a finalist in the Iron Horse Literary Review’s 2018 Photo Finish. Her poetry has appeared in Written Here: The Community of Writers Poetry Review, Riddled with Arrows, Door-Is-A-Jar, Dark Marrow, Rhythm and Bones, Moonchild Magazine, Nine Muses, Burning House Press, and Ghost City Review, among others. She is an alumna of UC Berkeley. When not writing, she plays guitar to her unreasonably large Highlander cat.

Find her:    kariflickinger.com   @kariflickinger   legendcitycollective.wordpress.com

The Interview

1. What inspired you  to write poetry?

Love and trees, maybe. I spent my childhood wandering aimlessly through the mountains of Northern California. Poetry is love. Lovers inspire me to write. And I don’t mean between the sheets, necessarily. I mean the way we show love in our world. The way I have been cared for, and have been shown how to care. The way I can extend care.

At the same time, my infinitely shit grasp on communicating with others also inspires me to write. Poetry makes all of my worst personality traits beautiful. I’m obsessive, destructive, at times unkind due to my scrutiny of my environment—a bit oblivious. I’m bipolar—I flip a lot, and process slowly. But all of these traits help me build like an ocean on the page. I unfold, align, take up space, and it all swells into a crescendo. Learning to read from all directions has helped me write from all directions.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

As a kid, I stumbled into poetry. I picked up these big fat books that were impossible for a little Kari to understand, and I consumed them. I was a weird kid. I told people I was going to be a poet and write the “Great American novel”. I was like eight years old. I was exposed to poetry at Renaissance festivals as a kid, too. My mom was a seamstress for years, and we would hawk for various shops, or join parades, and it was all very over-the-top Shakespearean. I like to think those years taught me how to read nuance.
But, the first time I was aware of loving poetry was when I read a book about unicorns from a local library. I checked that book out so many times. No other budding child-poets were going to gather inspiration from THAT copy! (I just looked it up, it was The Unicorn Treasury edited by Bruce Coville. I can’t believe I’ve just shared this story. Just ordered a copy online. What a time to be alive.)

I knew poetry would become my life when I read E. E. Cummings’ “[buffalo bill’s]” in high school. The configuration and rhythm fascinated me. My schoolgirl crush: E. E. Cummings. I wrote this poem out in my notebooks the way most girls write their crush’s last name in hearts.

Later, I think I became poetry when I read Marianne Moore’s “The Paper Nautilus” in community college.

3. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older poets?

I wasn’t until I went to get my formal education after turning thirty. I went to Diablo Valley College and knocked those survey courses out, and every day was a new expansion. I mean, do you know what it’s like to fall in love every day? I started getting migraines from reading and loving. Suddenly, there was Donne, Yeats, T.S. Eliot, Coleridge, Keats and Milton. There was Beowulf, and Chaucer. And it was love everywhere.

And it’s absolutely a problem that these are all old white fellas from one region of the world (some of which were stealing their poetry from their sister’s journals—cough, cough, Wordsworth, cough.) But, how do you abate love when it appears? How do you deal with that?

When I got into UC Berkeley, the reverence for these fellas was almost too much, at times. The boys’ club is still very much alive, but I think that’s changing and being part of that change is brilliant.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

I write when I do. I’m very self-motivated, so I can walk away when something isn’t working, and come back to it later with fresh eyes, and it doesn’t hold me up for years. I write most days. Until recently, I had written almost every day for about two years. But it’s not a hard fast rule because I hate rules, and I immediately throw them out when I make them. Writing just happens. I’ve begun to trust my gathering phases or downtime. I’m unreasonably prolific. If I get manic, I clean the house and write into the night.

5. What motivates you to write?

Usually either piecing together observations—sewing together ideas that don’t necessarily belong together, or deconstructing. I love to build and destroy. Poetry is like a Lego set you can take with you everywhere, and work on anytime. Or an inexplicably meaningful blanket-fort. That’s a weird answer. I basically said writing motivates me to write.

6. What is your work ethic?

It’s absurdly strong. I put myself into anything I work on. I’ve held jobs since I was 15 years old. I often walked two miles back and forth between my first job and home, (not necessarily through the snow.) I had extremely strong, nearly obsessive follow-through all my life until recently when I worked through several diagnoses. It’s made me take a step back, and examine what I have time for. Should I write and research for hours, and not eat or go outside? No. No, I should not do that. I’m squishy and I’m 35, and the body can’t take that madness, anymore. But, I admit I love to work on writing. I love to edit. I never stop. When I’m not writing, I’m thinking of how I could be. It’s a compulsion. I have cancelled life obligations to stay home and write.

7. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

Music shaped me, first. I was a musician, I played guitar and wrote songs. My family was very musical. I would walk to this old record store with this bearded wizard looking man, and buy records for 25 cents and listen. I listened very loudly, then.
Teens-Kari found: E.E. Cummings, the poemphone poets, the beats, the constellation of sixties rock—The Doors, The Byrds, Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, The Beatles—it was all this absurdist spoken word kaleidoscopic thing really. Eventually, I found how to be brutal and honest by listening to Tori Amos.
Twenties-Kari found: Bukowski, because of-course-she-did. Those were hard years, love-wise.

Thirties-Kari has found: Robert Duncan and Czesław Miłosz. Sharon Olds. Lorine Niedecker. Roethke. Södergran. Rilke. Yeats. Merwin. Glück. Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

8. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

The why: I love writers who burst through language to annihilate the expected. It’s extremely difficult to balance complexity of construction with what is real. I love when a piece is a little bit instructive, part knife-to-the-gut with a dash of the order of humanity’s place in the universe, and a sprinkle of science.

The who: I’ll start with my brothers-of-the-word, Nicholas Yingling, and Dylan Heier-Ross—two of the most brilliant beautiful human beings, and most stunning writers a person could possibly hope to encounter. My writing friends Sterling Farrance, Bree Cassells, Tessa Rissacher, Ian Sheerin, and Kim Harvey.
Then my Writing Collective, they are all amazing writers cultivated by the wonderfully talented C. Aloysius Mariotti: legendcitycollective.wordpress.com.
I admire Jessica Barksdale, Brenda Hillman, Bob Hass, Lyn Hejinian, Tess Taylor, Brenda Shaughnessy, Sharon Olds, Jorie Graham, Morgan Parker, Rosebud Ben-Oni, Joy Harjo, Rae Armentrout, Matthew Zapruder, Aaron Poochigian, and K. Weber.

At Berkeley and the Community of Writers, I was so incredibly privileged to work with a few of the above-named folks, and I genuinely felt like an imposter. It’s an insane time to be writing. There are so many working amazing living breathing reading loving poets—it would be impossible to name who inspires me. Chances are, if I’ve encountered you, and your poetry, I admire what you’re doing. I seem smug, but that’s just my face. I secretly love you all.

9. Why do you write, as opposed to doing anything else?

I would never say anything if I didn’t write it down first.

And I do other things, I walk in botanical gardens, play guitar, work for a financial institution, eat tacos and watch bad television. But, something in me is always forming the next piece. I keep a notepad next to me when I’m driving. I sit at this long stoplight after work everyday, and write.

10. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

Write something down—you’re a writer. Labels are a huge myth created by this square little system. Claim your label. Practice. Observe. Love. And, this is especially for young women, you don’t owe anyone your “humbleness”. Buy into yourself. Promote yourself. Time to yourself is self-love. Believe in what you can do because you are capable.

11. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

I have a handful of poems I really love coming out in the next few months, one is inspired by Molly Bloom’s monologue at the end of Ulysses, and songs by Cake, and Concrete Blonde. Also, a couple poems about my struggles with my mental health; one about Ceres (celestial and myth.) Some about Taco Bell and Sappho. One about sound-bathing at the UC Berkeley Botanical Garden for the Summer Solstice last year.

I have several larger projects in some level of construction. A chapbook on liminality that is inspired by Ovid’s Metamorphoses; I’ve started writing shorts in dialogue with various folktales, and a dialogue with Italo Calvino’s Complete Cosmicomics. I also have a chapbook on myth and limerence that explores the ramifications of the idealized poetic object (features poems to an avalanche of exes.) And I’ve been doing a lot of pieces based in sound—partitioned by the movements in specific pieces of music, or samplings of pop-culture.

I think sometimes people read my work and think there’s too much going on. But this is my brain. I have been accused of not showing enough heart in my work before; there is heart there—a lot of it—but like me, you might have to dig to get there.

My latest project (this is an on-going project):

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Mark Antony Owen

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Prince Bush

describes himself on the Fisk University site: I am a first generation student and poet at Fisk University. I am grateful to have worked with Arctic Tusk, Rhythm & Bones Lit, Fisk Political Review, and Soft Blow. My lifelong job is one I’m currently living: to write and read poetry. I am fortunate to want a dream job that also supports my favorite activity, conversing with a poem. I want to one day give poetry readings around the world from a book of my own and I would love to win the Pulitzer Prize. At Fisk I feel like I am in conversation with the great poet Nikki Giovanni, a graduate herself.

His website is: https://pbush.com/

The Interview

1. What inspired you  to write poetry?

I had many thoughts and emotions as a child that I didn’t want to tell anyone else. Thus, I wrote them down, and began to enjoy this activity, particularly for its freedom: I could write whatever I wanted, and no one could stop me. I discovered omnipotence, similarly to a superhero making it out of radioactivity.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

Caroline Randall Williams, a poet and professor, introduced me to contemporary poetry. Before I knew poetry historically, but did not know that people were making poems today.

3. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older poets?

I was not aware at all. I was introduced, because Caroline is amazing, to poets young like me. Because of this, I have always felt like I am in good company. I also love that many older people are in poetry, as hopefully I will make it to their age and will be as well.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

My daily writing routine is reading. I want to at least read one poem a day, and oftentimes end up reading many more. I write whenever I feel moved to write, which is pretty often when I’m reading.

5. What motivates you to write?

Other poems motivate me, as well as being alive and feeling, mentally and physically. Any activity I take part in can end up in a poem, even watching Netflix. I am easily motivated to write a poem!

6. What is your work ethic?

My work ethic is the same as any poet who cares about their poem. I do always work towards the poem and not a collection, though, and that may be different from poets who are book-oriented.

7. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

I am still reading those poets, as I am only 21! But the poets I’m reading have all helped me navigate everything from the form I like to write in to what I want to write about.

8. Who of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

Jericho Brown—he takes form seriously and does a wonderful job with constructing a book. Every poem in his books serve a purpose.

Patricia Smith—she has rewritten her book four times. I strongly admire her commitment to excellent poetry.

Kendra DeColo—she taught me that I can publish poetry about anything, and should do it confidently.

9. Why do you write, as opposed to doing anything else?

Nothing else would satisfy me. I love poetry and decided to commit my life to it. I find every part of the process rewarding.

10. What would you say to someone who asked you “How do you become a writer?”

I would give them one of my favorite quotes: “To begin, begin.” – Wordsworth    1. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

I am working on poems as they come. I’m a senior at Fisk University and will be getting my MFA in Poetry immediately after—that is sure to lead to many more poems!

F WORD WARNING

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Amanda Earl

is a Canadian poet, publisher, prose-writer, visual poet and editor who lives in Ottawa, Ontario. Her first and only poetry book so far is Kiki (Chaudiere Books, 2014). Amanda is the managing editor of Bywords.ca and the fallen angel of AngelHousePress. Connect with Amanda on Twitter @KikiFolle or visit AmandaEarl.com for more information.

The Interview

1. What inspired you to write poetry?

I didn’t even realize I was writing poetry until my mid thirties. I scrawled on pads of paper from my parents’ workplaces, all kinds of confessional stuff and complaints and lists. I made notes on index cards about everyone I knew and filed them in a metal box. I just wrote. I didn’t label it. I heard nothing but poetry by men from early childhood and up, whether it was in school or recitations by my father: Shakespeare, Victorian morality poetry, Edward Leer. I liked the rhyming and the sound play, and the images, but I rarely related to it. I dismissed the thought of poetry from my head.

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews

I am honoured and privileged that the following writers local, national and international have agreed to be interviewed by me. I gave the writers two options: an emailed list of questions or a more fluid interview via messenger.

The usual ground is covered about motivation, daily routines and work ethic, but some surprises too. Some of these poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Rachael Ikins

Rachael Ikins has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize & CNY Book Award multiple times and won the 2018 Independent Book Award for Just Two Girls. She featured at the Tyler Gallery 2016, Rivers End Bookstore 2017, ArtRage gallery 2018, Caffe Lena, Saratoga Springs, Aaduna fundraiser 2017 Auburn, NY, Syracuse Poster Project 2015, and Palace Poetry, Syracuse. Her work is included in the 2019 anthologies Gone Dogs and We Will Not Be Silenced the latter Book Authority’s #2 pick for the top 100 Best New Poetry Books for 2019. She has 7 chapbooks, a full length poetry collection and a novel. She is a graduate of Syracuse University and Associate Editor of Clare Songbirds Publishing House. She lives in a small house with her animal family surrounded by nature and is never without a book in hand.

Associate Editor Clare Songbirds Publishing House, Auburn NY

https://www.claresongbirdspub.com/shop/featured-authors/rachael-ikins/

2018 Independent Book Award winner (poetry)

2013, 2018, 2019 CNY Book Award nominee

2016, 2018 Pushcart nominee

Www.writerraebeth.wordpress.com

https://m.facebook.com/RachaelIkinsPoetryandBooks/

@poetreeinmoshun on Instagram

@writerraebeth on Tumblr

@nestl493 on Twitter

Above all, practice kindness

The Interview

1. What inspired you to write poetry?

I started writing poetry in second grade when I was 7. I still know that silly poem by heart that I’d written for Halloween. And it was about cats. Some things never change, although I write about more than cats now. As far as inspiration I suppose it was hearing it—I speak several languages— poetry is its own language. My first grade teacher had us copy poems to learn penmanship from the chalk board. My father used to have me read psalms from the Bible at bed time as I learned to read more. I think I was just born a poet. Only one period of my life was I unable to write and that was caused by serious adverse reaction to medications. It was a bleak time.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

I have already mentioned my dad and my first grade teacher. The most significant person was my 8th grade English teacher. A poet and author herself, she presented the unit on poetry ( met with groans esp. from the boys) by having us go out into the community to find poems in magazines and periodicals and cut them out. To create a notebook of poems. She had us each get a copy of two seminal poetry books, Poetry USA and Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle and we were assigned poems and practiced. We performed for a small crowd one afternoon in the school library. It made a huge difference to be taught by someone who was passionate about poetry. No English teacher for the rest of my school years ever came close. We are still friends. She is in her 80s now and still writing in multiple genres, attending workshops and publishing.

3. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older poets?

I’m not sure what this question refers to. Older in history poets or older people I knew who liked or wrote  poetry. My father was given, as were all soldiers, The Pocket Book of Poetry.  Soldiers would carry it under their helmets. My dad still had his copy, and we used to read from that little book. So I was aware of the masters as a kid, but had not known an actual adult poet until I was 14.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

I tend to work in the mornings. I browse markets using social media a lot, too. If I find something interesting I will match up the pieces I want to submit and then revise and polish. As far as new work, again, it tends to be written mornings. I was riding my bike yesterday morning, and a poem started up in my head. This has always been a way I write.
Other days something will happen, something that has been subconsciously simmering will say “It’s time!” Whatever else I had planned that day will take back seat to the need to write, and I may write for 5 hours straight.

Walking or riding and letting my mind roam. Once the body is craving relief, all extraneous clutter- thought goes away and clears space for something new to appear. I just listen for it.

5. What motivates you to write?

A feeling of not having achieved some mysterious rubicon yet. I have won a lot of prizes and as well published quite a lot of books with three publishers in multiple genres, and yet I  am just driven. I also have to say, I think I can’t help it. Writing is like breathing to me. “Write or die.” I would also like to make a significant amount of money at my craft/passion to make a dent in my monthly budget. Would I like to support myself at it? For sure, but I don’t know if that will ever happen. I have intense focus and ability to pursue something no matter who detracts from it. That has done well for me, too. Because in spite of teacher support, my family never took my writing seriously until the past decade.

6. What is your work ethic?

My work ethic has always been work hard and  help one another. We are all in this together. Contests aside, we are not competitors though some act that way. Help someone else. Don’t trample someone with your ambition. Pay it forward. Honesty. Write honestly.

7. How do the writers you read when you were young influence you today?

Oh, that is an easy one. I first tried to read Tolkien to myself as an 8 year old. Was a tad daunting. Instead I read all of Milne’s Winnie the Pooh books. The classics. Read Tolkien again in my 20s and was hooked. Both these authors made a mark on me somehow, scarred my heart and brain because decades later after writing nothing but poetry since age 14, in my 40s I wrote a series of children’s stories and the initial chapters of what became the first book in the Tales from the Edge of the Woods series, Totems. My understanding of fantasy and my choice of magical characters and so on was sparked by those great authors. My children’s stories stayed in a box until about a year ago, through 7 moves. I showed them to a publisher last year and we worked on edits. A Piglet for David will be coming from Clare Songbirds Publishing House later this year, the first in a series of young reader chapter books.

8. Who of today’s writers do you admire and why?

I admire J. K. Rowling though I am not a Harry Potter fan. Like her, I have known horrible poverty. You just do the work, period. And if you become successful, you do good with it. I also have always admired poet Marge Piercy. Since her book The Moon is Always Female in the ‘80s with its erotic poems connected to the natural world and also cat poetry Marge has seemed to appear along the journey just when I  needed an example to follow. I have also been at work on straight fiction, a lesbian adventure/ romance for awhile. I have never been fond of reading explicit sexual descriptions. It bores me. Do it, don’t discuss it lol.

I had to write a love scene and had no idea how to do so. One thing about love scenes is it is easy for them to be unimaginative.

I was in a bookstore and found an anthology Best Lesbian Erotica, not sure of the year. Looking through the table of contents I saw Marge Piercy had a short story in it. So I bought it, read her story and the rest of them, then faced off one night, sweating, in front of my computer and wrote the scene. A few years later my story “The Horse Rescuer” was accepted for publication, and I was paid probably the most for one piece I’ve been so far.

In 2014 I noticed Marge on FaceBook so I private-messaged her, one of those “You don’t know me but…” expressions of gratitude for her presence in my literary life. She responded and suggested I submit to her June Poetry Intensive. She chooses 12 students for a week long workshop every year. I finally got to meet my hero.

I like Mary Oliver’s poetry, too, but Marge is the one who has always been there in some sort of magical way. There are really too many authors for me to list.

9. Why do you write as opposed to doing anything else?

I can’t not write. And when a poem in particular or a scene if we’re talking prose, starts coming together in my mind, I have to stop whatever else I’m doing. It’s like going into labor I guess. You can’t tell the baby you’ve changed your mind, stay in there.

10. What would you say to someone who asks “How do you become a writer.”

You write. The best way to become a writer is to read everything you can get your hands on. Then you write. Maybe you start out emulating a style of someone you like to read. Keep writing and eventually your own voice will be heard. Writing is the most labor-intensive, long-term gamble of a profession going. You can theoretically spend, for example, 5 years writing a novel, another several seeking an agent and publisher if you want to go the path of the big 5 publishers, and yet you can spend a whole decade of your life on that one project and it may never be accepted. Or sell. Know that up front. Study. Go to workshops. Find a writing group. Read at open mics. And if/ when you reach a point where you have something to submit, read the specs the publisher lists as to how to submit to their publication. It shows respect. Many a writer has been summarily rejected for not submitting the way the publisher requested. Be tough. Opinions are completely subjective. Being rejected by a publication is meaningless. Editors are human beings. We all have different tastes. Don’t take it to heart. If you are lucky enough to get a note of feedback along with the rejection, learn from that. Read books about writing.

It’s hard. Be aware. Being a writer is not for the faint of heart. If you are serious about it you will pursue it no matter what. We only pass this way one time. So if you really want to do this, do it.

11. Tell me about the writing projects you have on at the moment.

Right now I am in the midst of launching my mixed-genre memoir, Eating the Sun. It is the love story of my husband and me. Organized by seasons of the year, the garden is the vehicle that takes the reader on the journey. Each section starts with narrative and then has poetry related to it, and finally recipes created by us from garden ingredients we grew. I use my artwork often in my books when publishers allow it.

This book has pen and inks, photography and cover art by me. I have a second manuscript submitted to a publisher. It is all poetry titled Confessions of a Poetry Whore. Another poetry  manuscript  to be sent this fall is titled Riding in Cars with Dogs.  It will be the companion book to my previously published For Kate: a Love Story in Four Parts written after the death of my beloved cat, Katie.  Since grief is a universal experience and so is love, no matter what shape the beloveds, this book is accessible to anyone who has lost someone.
The second fantasy book of the Tales of the Woodland series,  Beach Wrack has been written and edited professionally and is in the queue with a mid-level publisher. Book 3, Through the Hedgerow  is half written.

All four or five of the young reader chapter books are written as well. A Piglet for David will be Book 1. These also have my artwork as illustrations.  My work is contained in 5 upcoming anthologies, and I am eagerly awaiting copies. All releasing this summer and fall. Both writing and artwork.

Last but not least, I am at work on a thriller/horror genre novel. Haven.