Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Stu Buck

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.

Stuart Buck
is a poet and artist living in North Wales.  When he is not writing or reading poetry, he likes to cook, juggle and listen to music. He suffers terribly from tsundoku – the art of buying copious amounts of books that he will never read.

The Interview

1. What inspired you to write poetry?

I started writing poetry after a particularly troubling time in my life. I was working as a chef and had what the doctor called a ‘not insignificant nervous breakdown’ so had to stop working. Until that point I can honestly say, other than at school, I had never read or been interested in poetry at all. But I had a lot of spare time after I finished work and decided to write haiku as I had heard from somewhere or other that the practise was very calming. I guess that’s where the addiction started.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

Myself I suppose. The first poet I properly fell for was Basho and his wonderful haiku. So much can be said in just three lines. For me, that is mastery of the craft. From there I picked up some of Kerouac’s books of poetry, then fell in to the Beats – Ginsberg, Burroughs etc. Nothing too in depth, I was just dabbling.

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

Massively aware since that was what I was reading. It is only once you scratch the surface that you realise that the majority of the quality work that is produced is coming from the younger poets. At school you only ever learn about the old white guys, maybe a bit of Maya Angelou. But poetry is so much more isn’t it?

4. What is your daily writing routine?

Honestly, I don’t have one. I can go days and weeks without writing. But then I get this feeling in my throat and my stomach and it’s telling me I need to write. That I need to create something. So I do. I have a huge, fantastic imagination and a lot of my poems are vignettes, little scenes that I have dreamt up and stories that I feel need to be told. I open Word Online, write it down and that’s it. I NEVER edit my work (unless it is a commission) so once something is out its out. I tend to post most of my work on Twitter and don’t submit much to places anymore. I used to but I realised I was looking for validation from people through submitting work. I think even if your work is good the acceptance rate is pretty low, so it can be disheartening for a lot of writers. But in reality, you are trying to get 5000 poems down to 50 and people are going to miss the cut.

5. What motivates you to write?

Because I have to. That’s the short answer. I have an awful lot inside me and if you have a lot of things turning around your mind and don’t have anywhere to put them, they can pickle and turn bad. That’s why poetry is so important.

I also love it when someone connects with my words. It’s like a neural-link. I think any poet who says they aren’t interested in validation is lying. We crave acceptance and love, especially from fellow writers. I am not going to sit here and tell you otherwise. I’m like a sponge. A good comment can see me through a bad day. And that’s why I write.

6. What is your work ethic?

Poor! I read a lot of poetry but I write very little compared to a few years back. I was churning out one or two pieces a day back then whereas now it’s one or two a month. But I feel like the quality is there with my work now. Or at least, its somewhere near where I would like it to be. I have struck a decent balance I think although I do procrastinate like an absolute champion.

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

They don’t! Because the only thing I ever read when I was young was the Doctor Who novels and as far as I know they haven’t influenced me at all. I am not a massively academic person and I only really fell for poetry/literature in general in the last few years. I got a good degree and qualifications etc but they were not to do with english/the classics/poetry. Sometimes when I sit in on a conversation and people are being overtly academic I get a bit bored to be honest. I am all about passion and grit, not what some dead guy wrote about orchards.

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

Andrew McMillan is my favourite living poet. He deals with some really stark issues but writes beautifully and his poetry never fails to engage with me. But I read endless poetry now and so much of it is of a good quality. I don’t think poetry has ever been in a stronger position in terms of standards. That’s a lot to do with the internet I think which has allowed writers who would otherwise not stand a chance of being read to get their work out there.

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

I think words are the perfect medium. You can paint with words, sculpt with words, make music with words. I want people to understand what is going on in my head and while a painting or a song could tell them half of the story, words can tell the whole sordid tale.

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

Write something! Honestly, I don’t subscribe to this ‘everyone is a poet’ aesthetic. It’s hard work to create something that is good enough to be classed as poetry. But if you start writing things then you are a writer. Then I would say read. You CANNOT possibly create good art if you don’t indulge in the art that surrounds you.

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

I have just finished recording a poetry podcast called ‘Bedtime Stories for the End of the World’ where I was asked to update a piece of ancient folklore and adapt it to the modern world.

My second book ‘Become Something Frail’ has just been reprinted as we sold out so that is wonderful. I am working on a third book but I also create visual art so some of my time is spent designing book covers etc for other people.

I sound busy but don’t worry I mainly spend my days on Twitter @stuartmbuck or playing pointless games.

 

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Gerry Stewart

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.

Gerry Maxwell

Gerry Stewart

is a poet, creative writing tutor and editor based in Finland. In Scotland she was Editor of Grimalkin Press from 2005-2011 which published books connected with the creative writing and local history groups she worked with. She was part of the Composition Artist Collective from 2004-2006 with poet Nalini Paul and artist Frances Robertson which ran writing and art workshops and produced a collection Leaf Fall: Seeing by Touch of their work. She was Writer in Residence for North Ayr in 2001-2 and Assistant Editor at Chapman Publishing from 1997-2001.

She has recently won Hedgehog Press’ ‘Neglected or Selected Collection Competition’ and will hopefully publishing the collection with them in 2020. Her first poetry collection Post-Holiday Blues was published by Flambard Press, UK in 2008. In 2005 she received a Scottish Arts Council New Writer’s Bursary for her unpublished novel Talking Italian in my Sleep which has been long-listed for Linen Press’s First Chapter Competition in 2015 and Cinnamon Press’s Debut Novel Competition in 2017.

Her poetry has been widely published in the UK, Europe and United States since 1997, including Black Mountain Review, Cencrastus, Crannog, From Glasgow to Saturn, Hanging Loose, Hidden City Anthology, Iota, Island, Orbis, Poetry Quarterly, Poetry Salzburg Review, Pushing Out the Boat, Scrittura, Skylight 47, Southlight, The London Magazine and zvonainari.hr.

Born in the US, she has lived in Europe for over 25 years in Norway, Greece, Scotland and now Finland. Her writing blog can be found at http:/thistlewren.blogspot.fi/ and she is @grimalkingerry on Twitter.

The Interview

1. What inspired you  to write poetry?

I was always writing something as a child; complicated family epics, little poems, diaries. In 7th grade we had a Writer-in-Residence visit my class, encouraging us to write poems. I wrote several that were accepted in the little booklet he produced, featuring work from children from all over town. He made a point of singling me out in class to praise my work and to say I was a real poet. I was teased by the kids in class afterwards, but it really was an eye-opening moment for me, that I was good at something and that it was possible to do something with that skill. Writing started out as a hobby, but being a poet was always connected in my mind with encouraging others as a creative writing teacher, though I never seriously considered it as a job until much later.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

Probably my mother, she was always telling stories about history and our genealogy. She also liked physical, onomatopoetic poems, chanting ‘The Song of Hiawatha’ by Longfellow and ‘Boots’ by Kipling at my brother and I when we were young. It drove us nuts, but it must have sunk in.

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

I really wasn’t until I started working at a small publishing company in Edinburgh that was very involved with the Scottish writing scene, especially the older poets like Norman MacCaig, Edwin Morgan, Sorley MacLean and Tom Leonard. I loved working there and learning about their writing and lives, seeing them at events. My editor also introduced me to women writers like Liz Lochhead, Janet Paisley and Magi Gibson who have all brought such a new spirit into Scottish writing.

When I tried to get published, I didn’t feel excluded or belittled by all these ‘names’ around me as I got to see all their hard work from another side; writers getting rejections, struggling to meet deadlines, facing financial and personal difficulties.

Overall, working in publishing taught me that it’s all just opinions and making an effort. One editor’s opinion doesn’t have to make or break you. Just keep writing and pushing on until you find someone who sees your potential. That doesn’t mean you don’t continue to strive, to grow and learn as a writer. I soaked up as much as I could in the background and I hope it has benefited my writing.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

I try to write daily. I’ve recently taken online writing courses that offer a daily prompt to get you started and it really has changed how I write. I use one of their prompts or make up one of my own and write for about a half hour, just free-form. If a poem starts to develop, I’ll play with it for a bit and then leave it to work on editing older poems. I’m always tinkering with poems or my collections. Or I do admin, there’s always poems to submit to magazines or research to do.

5. What motivates you to write?

I’ve always had the overwhelming desire to write even if it’s just in my journals which I’ve been keeping for over 35 years. I used to be a great letter writer, I now blog as a way of sharing. I have this build-up of stories I want to tell, moments I want to capture and remember, to relive them again. My poetry comes from that place.

6. What is your work ethic?

It’s good now, but for the past decade I’ve been raising four kids, so they took up my entire focus for a while. Now I just put my bum to my seat, fingers to my keyboard or pen to paper and just do it. I keep writing new poems, submitting to magazines and applying for various opportunities in the hope that I’ll succeed. And over the past few years, I have seen small rewards. Because I live in Finland and do not write in Finnish, I am limited with what I can achieve here, so I feel I need to work harder to find an audience and outlets for my work. I get frustrated at times, but I just keep working at it.

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

After I got out of the romantic teenage phase, I read a lot of Elisabeth Bishop, Richard Hugo, Anna Akhmatova and other writers I discovered in university. I’ve recently found a few of those poetry collections so I’m dipping into them, revisiting times when I read and wrote, not to be published, but just because I loved the sound of words. I’m trying to get back to that more, while still being more aware of what I want that language to do.

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

I love Anne Michael’s precise use of language and I’m painfully jealous of my friend Jen Hadfield’s ability to dive into a place, its history and language and find the joy of it. When she writes, she plays with the shape of language, its physicality. You can feel what she does with words in your mouth, your gut. I’d love to be able to do that more.

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

I am tone-deaf, I have no artistic skills, I’m too impatient to craft. I read a lot, constantly before kids, so it just seemed a natural progression.

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

Read, submerge yourself in the beauty of language, written and spoken. And then write. Every day if possible. Good or bad put the words down. Say what you want to say, need to say. Share them, burn them or forget them, but rejoice in the fact that you’ve written them. Read and write. Rinse and repeat. Then find a good writers’ group to connect with and share your work.

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

I have two collections I’m seeking a publisher for, so I’m mainly just trying to increase my visibility. I’ve just won Hedgehog Press’s ‘Neglected or Selected Competition’ so hopefully they will publish a small version of one of the collections next year. I hope to organise some readings after publication in Finland and the UK.

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Lydia Unsworth

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.

Lydia Unsworth

is the author of two collections of poetry: Certain Manoeuvres (Knives Forks & Spoons, 2018) and Nostalgia for Bodies (Winner, 2018 Erbacce Poetry Prize). She has two pamphlets forthcoming in 2019 from above / ground press and Ghost City Press. Recent work can be found in AmbitLitroTears in the FenceBansheeInk Sweat and Tears, and others. Manchester / Amsterdam. Twitter@lydiowanie

The Interview

1. When and why did you start writing poetry?

I think I was always trying to. I would spend time anagramming, writing ‘lyrics’ to songs, reading, copying down sentences I liked, playing any kind of board game with words in it, watching improv comedy. Since I was a young adult, I was always more interested in the book at sentence level than the narrative as a whole. I liked novels full of tangents, and I was (still am) a big fan of underlining parts. I suppose I just didn’t know what poetry was properly, beyond the very traditional, or what it could be until much later. I think I was writing poetry on my art degree, although even at such a late stage, I still didn’t really know it was poetry. I knew I liked poetic language, poetic prose, form as concept, but actual Poetry, I think I still thought of that as quite an old, dead thing. I wasn’t around other writers in my real life, and the writers I was reading (prose writers or visual artists), when they did reference poetry, likely only confirmed that ‘old, dead’ belief. When I was 14 or so I found The Desiderata as the epigram in a series of Dean Koontz novels: I liked that. I printed it out and put it on my wall. Learnt the word ‘perennial’ from that piece.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

I drifted towards it via visual art. Though I was writing throughout my art degree in sorts, but it was probably another ten years before I realised that the writing was the crux of the matter and before I found a path in to actually reading poetry proper. My prose reading habits were getting poemier and poemier. Years passed. Then I moved to Poland and wrote to someone whose blog I found funny (Socrates Adams) and he sent me his novel-in-progress in increments. It was the first time I’d had dialogue with another writer and I started writing again there, in my chilly attic bedroom, properly, long after the visual distractions had fallen away. I was writing poetic-prose or experimental prose or something: I had a few pieces published and a novel shortlisted, then it fell away again, and again. It was always there, but I was always waiting until later, trying to accumulate knowledge (not realising how much of that knowledge was ephemeral and slips away completely unless you do something with it in the moment – which is one thing I love about writing poetry now, just slapping the fleeting, contorted-to-fit, down on a page). Anyway, after some more years passed, and I was writing on and off (by now some actual poems, although I still wasn’t reading any), I was given a sum of money that allowed me to do a Masters degree in Creative Writing, and I knew I was at risk of losing much more time unless someone ‘in the know’ actually verified me, so I did it, and they (Scott Thurston) did, and what I wrote at the end of that year became my first published collection of prose poetry. It was a ten-year voyage from the land of art to poetry on a small lump of driftwood with an intermittent internet connection and a changeable breeze.

2.1. What do you mean by “My prose reading habits were getting poemier and poemier”?

I was reading for the language, not the plot.

2.2. Why did the language become more important?

I think it always was, it just takes a while for a chain of reading to lead you to certain places. I was always looking for sentences I liked. And I guess the more I read, the more I grew tired of some of the rest: the same shapes of novels, certain cliches, techniques, wrapping-up of narratives, representations of women, predictable metaphors. It takes more to be surprised, I suppose. Or a different way of viewing something to find what is, or can be, surprising about it.

3. How aware are and were you of the dominating presence of older writers traditional and contemporary?

I think I’m more aware of the what-seems-like-class of a lot of writers than the age. I don’t mind people being older per se, they might have worked for it.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

As much as possible in any possible sliver of a gap! I often pinch lines overheard from my environment as a starting clay, or some image from something I’m reading, whether that be a book or simply a strangely worded sign, so I try and store all these fragments until I have a fifteen-minute or more gap, and then I write. I do my longer bouts of refining and building and editing in the evenings at least a few times a week, preferably when everyone else is asleep.

5. What motivates you to write?

A desire to communicate everything that is interior and, by the very nature of its interiority, alone. It’s a reaching toward. And it’s the same thing that motivates my reading: knowing the strangenesses and possibilities of ‘the other’. That, and the ability to sculpt a piece of language-music from the environment you find yourself in, whether that be internally /externally /in real time /via memory.

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

They altered my outlook on life and have given me the foundations for my ongoing philosophy. It’s unshakable really. I think of Kafka and Beckett in particular, and I do still look for that melodrama and highfalutin despair everywhere in art, and when I find it, that very specific kind of comedy, then I do feel so terribly comforted. I’m reading The Milkman by Anna Burns in between questions here, and she’s also doing it in a way – it’s very funny, but serious-funny, bleak-funny. Like Catch 22 or Stewart Lee, just make the joke (or, following the same rule, take the emotion) and keep making it. I like that. The joy of repetition.

And I guess the writers you read at a certain age sort of raise you. So it’s good to stay fond of them. Helps you understand yourself.

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

Anyone writing in a void, without a support system, or in scraps of stolen time, who manages to tread water long enough to burst through the surface. Anyone who doesn’t give up.

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

Write. Write without thinking. Write until your body hurts. Change position. Do it again. Keep writing until you end up some place that surprises you. Edit.

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

I’m working on a full collection, which seems to be spilling over into two collections. I have a pamphlet I’m trying to make ready, based on a bunch of poems I wrote as part of the Tupelo Press 30/30 project back in June. And I am nearly finished preparing another pamphlet (‘I Have Not Led a Serious Life’) that will be coming out with above / ground press later in the year. I’m mainly trying to keep momentum up around work and child-raising and physical exercise; it’s easy enough to write a poem, but harder to see which ones belong where without spreading out a hundred pieces of paper on the floor of a large empty room. I am grateful for my writing friends and our ad-hoc collaborative editing relays.

Thank you for these questions, Paul. It’s been a pleasure!

Art And Poetry Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Mary Frances

Wombwell Rainbow Interview

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.

Frances

Mary Frances

In the last year Mary’s words and images have been published by Metambesen, Luvina Rivista Literaria, Burning House Press, and Lone Women in Flashes of Wilderness. She has new work coming soon from Penteract Press.

The Interview

1. Who/what introduced you to art and poetry?

On my first day at school, I stole a book. I had become enchanted by words – ‘birds of paradise’ and  ‘ukelele’ – and by images of huge colourful flowers and a full moon glittering on water. As I remember, it wasn’t that I wanted to possess the book exactly, more that I just couldn’t let go of it, I couldn’t stop looking.

We didn’t have many books at home but we visited the library every week and I learned to read very early. My father had the complete works of Shakespeare. As far as I know, he had never seen a live production but he knew many of the plays intimately through reading. I was attracted by this beautiful book, its marbled edges and narrow columns of print. He read some parts aloud to me. I was very young. I was encouraged to look at books regardless of whether or not I understood the words and l realise now that this was a very great gift. My mother’s book was Palgrave’s Golden Treasury, the Binyon edition. She knew many of the poems by heart from rote learning in school and can still recite them now at 90. Some of those treasury poems – The Lady of Shallot, Kubla Khan, Rime of the Ancient Mariner – shaped my imagination for life. As a teenager, I remember the thrill of discovering Sylvia Plath, the Mersey Sound poets, and, one day on detention in the school library, Elizabeth Jennings – it was her early work which led me to writing. My grandmother’s book was Andersen’s fairy tales. She gave it to me when her eyes failed. I still read it.

I think I was taken to the national gallery as a child but I remember it from that time only as a dark place of war horses and suffering saints. My introduction to art came when I was perhaps 8 or 9 wandering alone into the gallery of a museum and finding Whistler’s nocturnes. I still remember the feeling of being inside these paintings – I knew these waters, this light. I don’t know how much time passed before the attendant gently tapped my shoulder and told me that the gallery was closing. When I went back a few weeks later the Whistlers were gone, replaced by sports photographs, and the attendant explained about travelling exhibitions while I stood there and cried. I still get that stunned everything-else-has-disappeared feeling sometimes in exhibitions – it is a falling in love.

2. How aware were you of the dominating presence of older poets/artists?

I have always been aware of them, but not as a weight if that’s what you mean. Growing up we read comics and discovered pop music. Through older family members we knew Victorian melodrama and music hall songs. Classic books were just a different kind of language and other kinds of story – they were enjoyed without reverence. The same with artists. But it’s not my day job, I had no need to break free of anything.

3. What is your daily routine for creative work?

I don’t have a routine but I make something most days. Or rather, most nights – I have my best ideas late in the day and I don’t sleep easily.

4. What motivates you to write, to make art?

Walking, the feel of language, wide-open eyes.

5. What is your work ethic?

I tend to get lost in it, endless variations and re-workings, not too bothered about how much of it will ever be seen or read.

I used to have a website for my art and cut-ups but I took it down a few years ago. It felt like a showroom and I wasn’t comfortable with it. Now I just leave things lying around on twitter which feels less like a display case and more like inviting people to rummage through whatever is on the table. I like the transience – so many people pinning fine things to the lamppost every day and then it’s blown away overnight and so we start again. Absence of weight keeps me moving. I’m happy to start over, not look back.

The commonality in all my work is that I enjoy finding, remixing, and reframing things that are already there. Meanings tighten very quickly and cut-up and found work disrupts that. Everything can be otherwise, and much is hidden or ignored. I’m looking for other ways of seeing and altered perspectives. I’m also interested in dreams.

6. How do the writers/artists you found when you were young influence you today?

I wouldn’t be able to say much about direct influence, but I’m very aware of those writers I’ve carried with me in the most worn books and marked pages, the ones who got into my bloodstream, Virginia Woolf and Angela Carter.

I think my art work has been influenced by illustration and hand-drawn animation. I often have the sense that I’m creating stage sets. I barely knew the characters in those old films of childhood – my focus was on the backdrops, their real-not-real-ness.

7. Who of today’s writers/artists do you admire most and why?

I enjoy many poets, far too many to list, but If I had to choose just one it would be John Burnside. I am incredibly moved by his work, by his capturing the essence of small-huge things. I feel I know those places, that weather, those absences.

I read and re-read a lot. I try to find new and different voices and keep an eye on small presses and online magazines. I don’t like the idea of poetry or any writing as comfort, I am looking to be unsettled. I blame the fairy tales. John Trefry’s two novels, ‘Plats’ and ‘Apparitions of the Living’, have changed the way I read, and what I choose to read – that’s a rare extraordinary thing. I love those books, and I am still afraid of them.

I see as much contemporary art as I can, and whether or not I like the work I find it interesting, both in itself and as a mirror of the times. I think about and begin to understand many other things as I look at art. People cluster and fidget behind me with their frustrated i-phones, and attendants still comment sometimes on how long I’ve been there – I’m not a great person to go to galleries with. I could probably list favourite exhibitions more easily than favourite artists. Some collections haunt me for years: Jo Whaley’s ‘Theater of Insects’, Tracey Moffat’s ‘Laudanum’, Peter Greenaway’s ‘Luper’, Cathy Wilkes’ show at Tate Liverpool. But I would travel a long way to see new work by Anselm Kiefer or Sarah Sze. They notice everything, use everything, weave multiple webs of connection – one so heavily, necessarily, weighted, the other so delicately balanced, luminous, seeming light as air.

It will be no surprise to anyone that I also spend a lot of time looking at walls. And gallery floors.

8. Why do you write or make art, as opposed to doing anything else?

Oh, I do a lot of other things and I’m glad for that. There are other kinds of necessity. So many more things than we might have imagined can become acts of love.

9. What would you say to someone who asked you how to become a writer or artist?

If the question is whether art and writing are worthwhile things to spend time on, then I would give every encouragement. In terms of a career or recognition, I wouldn’t know anything about that.

I would just add that thoughtful readers are, in my view, writers, that keen appreciators of art are indeed artists, and that risk-taking editors, dedicated librarians, and imaginative curators are the very best.

10. Tell me about the creative projects you have on at the moment

I’m working now on several projects and I don’t know yet which ones will work. I like this state of variousness with many possible directions to take. The process of messing around and changing my mind is important. I’m happy with things unfinished.

My second collection of found landscapes ‘Landfall” has just been published by Metambesen. I’m very grateful to Charlotte Mandell and Robert Kelly for their interest and care with my work and for offering it such a lovely home.
I have a new book of found seascapes and cut-up text, ‘Sea Pictures’, coming from Penteract Press in the autumn, and also a visual poetry contribution in their forthcoming ‘Reflections’ anthology. I’ve enjoyed working with Anthony Etherin and very much appreciate his ideas and support.
It’s been an interesting and curious process to think about your questions Paul. I enjoy your project, its inclusiveness and generosity – thank you for having me here.
[ Mary can be found on Twitter @maryfrancesness ]

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: David Graham

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.

David Graham

has published three full-length collections of poetry, Magic Shows, Second Wind, and, most recently, The Honey of Earth (Terrapin Books, 2019). He’s also published four chapbooks, most recently Stutter Monk. He is also co-editor of After Confession: Poetry as Autobiography (with Kate Sontag) and Local News: Poetry About Small Towns (with Tom Montag), just published by MWPH Books. He retired in 2016 from teaching writing and literature at Ripon College, where he also hosted their Visiting Writers Series for twenty-eight years. He has served on The Poets’ Prize Committee and the Wisconsin Poet Laureate Commission and was a Resident Poet as well as faculty member at The Frost Place. Currently he is a contributing editor for Verse-Virtual, where he also contributes a monthly column, “Poetic License,” on poetry and poets. After retiring he returned to his native upstate New York with his wife, the artist Lee Shippey.

 

The Interview

1. What inspired you to write poetry?

There are many honest answers to such a question, I think, and depending on my mood, I might stress this or that factor more heavily. Tomorrow’s answer might differ. But as far as I can recall, I began to write seriously at about age sixteen, knowing nothing about the art of poetry except that it seemed a good way to express the inexpressible flood of emotions that a boy at that age feels. Before long I learned that it was also a way to impress young women. At the same time, I was listening to music seriously for the first time, and my adolescence happened to coincide with a great era in popular music. So lyricists like Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen, and many others were among my first deep poetic influences. Yet it’s equally true that long before that I absorbed a great deal of poetry in church every Sunday—in the form of the glorious King James version of the Bible and the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer. Hearing that wonderful Elizabethan language read aloud surely inspired me, even if I wasn’t aware of it at the time. Likewise, my mother used to read aloud to me when I was a boy—her love of A.A. Milne’s poetry in particular was infectious and certainly must be added to the mix.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

Aside from my mother’s love of Milne, I did have the usual public-school exposure to traditional poetry, and for the most part I didn’t much care for it. I was a bookish teen, though, and eventually discovered a number of poets who weren’t being taught in my classes, poets such as Richard Brautigan, Diane Wakoski, E.E. Cummings, Denise Levertov, and others. I should mention here one of my high school English teachers, Ed Brennan, who by being open to the poetic powers of musical lyrics, was an important early permission-giver. Then in college I was lucky enough to encounter some very gifted teachers, including Sydney Lea.

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

Depends on how old I was. In college and graduate school I gradually became aware of what we now call PoBiz, the making and maintaining of reputations, the “anxiety of influence,” in Harold Bloom’s phrase, damaging labels like “major” and “minor,” and so forth. The older I get the more I realize that worrying about such things is pointless. Honor your elders, do your work, seek out community in the poetry world, and let matters of reputation be decided by others, as they always are in the end.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

I have written poetry daily for many years, and haven’t missed a day since 1993. When younger I liked to claim the quiet hours around midnight as my best time; as I aged I could no longer stay awake and alert enough to write after the day’s other chores were done. So I switched to a morning routine, which seems to work best for me. Ideally I write as soon as possible upon waking. But on those days when other obligations prevent that, I fit it in wherever I can. I work on poetry, generally, when I am freshest. Later in the day I often work on prose.

5. What motivates you to write?

I can’t improve on something I once heard Shelby Stephenson say when asked this question: “Why, to defeat sin and death, of course!”

6. What is your work ethic?

Richard Hugo’s wonderful book The Triggering Town contains an anecdote that pretty much says it all. When I was teaching creative writing I quoted it to every class I taught. The story goes that the golfing legend Jack Nicklaus once made an amazing shot, and an onlooker commented, “That was a lucky shot.” Supposedly Nicklaus replied, “Yes, it was. But I notice the more I practice, the luckier I get.” Or, as Louis Pasteur explained his success, “Luck favors the prepared mind.” There is such a thing as luck, magic, inspiration, or whatever you wish to call it. You can’t explain it or call it forth at will. But it does tend to arrive more often when you work at it.

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

I imagine they’re in there somewhere, always, even if I’m not consciously aware. Of the poets I’m aware of as continuing influences on my work, I would single out Walt Whitman, Robert Bly, James Wright, Philip Levine, William Matthews, and Richard Hugo as particularly important early influences. There are also many I admire and wish I could be more heavily influenced by, but who remain impossible for me, anyway, to imitate. One example would be Emily Dickinson.

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

That’s an impossible question, of course. There are hundreds I admire fiercely.

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

Whether by habit or for some other, ineffable reason, writing has long since become necessary for me. You could call it an addiction, in that it makes me feel good to do it, and bad if too much time passes between doses.

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

My answer is the usual one: you become a writer mostly by writing a lot at the same time as you are reading a lot. They strike me as two sides of the same coin. If you’re lucky you will also find good teachers, mentors, and a peer group to offer critical suggestions and moral support. Such things can aid enormously, but they cannot help you if you’re not writing and reading enough.

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

I’ve just published two books—The Honey of Earth is a new collection of poems from Terrapin Books; and Local News: Poetry About Small Towns is an anthology of contemporary poetry that I co-edited with Tom Montag (MWPH Books). At the moment I’m mostly engaged in promoting those. So I have no large projects underway currently, but soon I’ll begin thinking about my next collection of poems. In the meantime, I write a monthly column about poetry and poets for the online journal, Verse-Virtual called “Poetic License.” For three years now I’ve been reflecting each month on what a lifetime of reading, teaching, and writing poetry has taught me. I invite you to take a look: http://www.verse-virtual.com

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: David Groulx

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.

 

David Groulx

was raised in Northern Ontario. He is proud of his Aboriginal roots – Ojibwe Indian and French Canadian. After receiving his BA from Lakehead University, where he won the Munro Poetry Prize, David studied creative writing at the En’owkin Centre in Penticton, B.C., where he won the Simon J Lucas Jr. Memorial Award for poetry. He has also studied at the University of Victoria Creative Writing Program. David has had eleven poetry books published – Night in the Exude(Tyro Publications: Sault Ste Marie, 1997); The Long Dance (Kegedonce Press, Neyaashiinigmiing, 2000);  Under God’s Pale Bones (Kegedonce Press, Neyaashiinigmiing, 2010); A Difficult Beauty (Wolsak & Wynn: Hamilton, ON 2011); Rising With A Distant Dawn (BookLand Press: Toronto, ON 2011); Imagine Mercy (BookLand Press: Toronto, ON 2013); These Threads Become A Thinner Light (Theytus Books, Penticton, BC 2014); and In The Silhouette Of Your Silences (N.O.N Publishing, Vancouver, BC 2014). Wabigoon River Poems (Kegedonce Press, Neyaashiinigmiing, 2015), The Windigo Chronicles (Bookland Press, 2016), From Turtle Island To Gaza (AU press, 2019)

David won the 3rd annual Poetry NOW Battle of the Bards in 2011, and was a featured reader at the IFOA in Toronto & Barrie (2011), as well as Ottawa Writer’s Festival (2012). David has appeared on The Aboriginal Peoples Television Network and was the Writer-In-Residence for Open Book Toronto for November 2012.David’s poetry has been translated into Spanish & German. Rising With A Distant Dawn was translated into French; under the title, Le lever à l’aube lointaine, 2013.Red River Review nominated David’s poems for Pushcart Prizes in 2012, and David’s poetry has appeared in over a 160 publications in 16 countries. He lives in Ottawa, Canada.

The Interview

  1. When and why did you start writing poetry?

Expression is the first word that comes to kind, I believe that it is as important as air, food or water. Life is nothing until it evinced by the word.

  1. Who introduced you to poetry?

There didn’t seem to be much poetry around when I was a kid. We had lots of books because my parents believed reading was important. I suppose the poetry I heard was in the way people spoke. My mother has an aboriginal accent, my father a heavy French accent. And then there were lots of immigrants, Portuguese, Italians, Polish and all these people spoke English differently. Like all kids brought up in a colony I was introduced to the English Romantics and a few Canadian poets. There was nothing to speak to me as a Half-breed living in Canada so I decided to create my own.

  1. How aware are and were you of the dominating presence of older poets traditional and contemporary?

I really don’t know how aware I was of the presence of older poets. I only knew that there were voices that went unheard in a dominant society. It said that this was poetry and this isn’t. I could not fit in, I could not be a part of no matter how hard I tried. I turned to poets from Africa, the middle east. Anywhere in the third world.

  1. What is your daily writing routine?

I don’t have a ‘daily’ writing routine, because I work a regular job. During the week I try to write some notes down to use later. I do all of my writing on the weekends. Which is getting up before dawn, a pot of coffee, a pack of smokes, a computer and a small pot-bellied dog snoring somewhere behind me. I guess writing is something I’m always doing; either taking notes, writing, thinking about writing or reading.

  1. What motivates you to write?

It is who I am, it is what I am. Without it my life would be meaningless to me. at some desolate times in my life, I believe it has even kept me alive.

  1. What is your work ethic?

I go to a mindless job every day to keep the wolves from the door, I write because some day that knocking at the door may be opportunity. I see it like this, if you are not writing, you are not a writer. I sometimes think that if I am ever satisfied with my writing I’ll quit, which means I’ll be doing this until the day I die, whish I hope is a long time from now. I think death is a good motivation for almost anything.

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

I remember reading America & other poems by Jeff Bien and Tiffany Midge’s Outlaws, Renegades and Saints : Diary of a Mixed-Up Halfbreed and thinking to myself I want to write like this. For most of the poetry I’ve heard or read I remember thing I don’t want to sound like that. It has always been a exploration of my own voice. I did one year at the University of Victoria’ creative writing program and I quit because what I heard was mostly upper white middle class stuff; writing about their trips overseas. It was uninteresting and boring. I think life will influence my poetry more than other people’s poems about it.

  1. Whom of today’s writers do you admire the most and why?

I’ve been reading Aim Cesare lately. He speaks of the colonizer and the colonized, this type of relationship is what governs our society, especially y here in Canada. It is something about his expression of that relationship.

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

I can’t sing a note.

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

If someone asked me how do you become a writer, I would tell them. ‘ You first must have a deep love of disappointment’ and then you write.

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

A long time ago I spent some time in jail. When I was young I’ve always had an involvement with law enforcement, seems I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. It’s called In the Days I was Known to My Brother as Papillon. Most of the manuscript has been sitting around the house for a couple of years now and now I’ve decided to finish it, its something I’m doing for myself, if it gets published or not, I haven’t decided yet.

Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Blake Wallin

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.

Blake Wallin

is the author of the two full-length poetry collections No Sign on the Island (Bottlecap Press) and Occipital Love (Ghost City Press), as well as the chapbook Otherwise Jesus (Ghost City) and the microchap The Lucidity of Giving Up (Ghost City’s 2016 Microchap Series), several plays, and a novel. Last summer, he attended the 2018 Kennedy Center Playwriting Intensive (led by Gary Garrison) and a 2018 Virginia Quarterly Review Summer Workshop taught by Mary Szybist. Much of his work (poetry and fiction) can also be found on Maudlin House.
No Sign on the Island, by Blake Wallin
https://ghostcitypress.com/books/occipital-love
https://ghostcitypress.com/chapbooks/otherwise-jesus
https://ghostcitypress.com/2016-summer-microchap-series/the-lucidity-of-giving-up
https://maudlinhouse.net/author/blake-wallin/

The Interview

1. What inspired you to write poetry?

The need for a different form, a form that would contain the emotional revelations I was  going through while still staying true to the journey my writing was taking me on constantly.

I’d written fiction in high school, and in college experimented briefly with playwriting (both of which I have recently resuscitated in my writing life), but poetry was and will always be my first true writing love, the one that enabled me to say what I needed to say at a time when to not say those things would have been detrimental to my health and wellbeing.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

Like almost everybody in America (even the poets) I was introduced to poetry before I knew what it was or could do. I had enthusiastic teachers in high school who taught poetry but I either couldn’t listen or they portrayed its effect wrongly. Either way, the person who really introduced me to poetry was a professor at Wheaton College, the late Brett Foster, a Christian poet concerned with beauty but not at the expense of being real or actual. While I’m not a Christian, I am still concerned with Christianity, and while I don’t ascribe to the theory of beauty Christianity sometimes entails, I am still very much concerned with the possibility of beauty.

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

None whatsoever. If I had been overly concerned with the dominating presence of older poets, I’m almost positive I would not be writing now, or would be writing to a lesser degree. I was just over in my own world, trying to heal from the real-life non-poetry world by reading Rimbaud and Ashbery. In a poetry world so dependent on mentorship and favouritism, it seems wrong to ask that question, but, even though I have benefited from older poets’ throughout my brief poetry career, it’s a necessary question in that it should 100% not matter what older poets have to tell you at first. That’s for later.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

I don’t have a routine. It sounds bad, but I’m writing in three different genres (poetry,fiction, and playwriting), so I just constantly write and switch genres when one begins to bore the shit out of me. Honestly part of the reason I’m so spread out genre-wise is to avoid writer’s block haha.

5. What motivates you to write?

Some weird mixture of boredom and necessity.

6. What is your work ethic?

Somehow both severe and lackadaisical.

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

I read a bunch but have a handful of writers I return to most often: J.R.R. Tolkien, Arthur Rimbaud, Roberto Bolaño, John Ashbery, Annie Baker, Martin McDonagh, Chaim Potok.
These are the authors I hold close to my chest, and I’m fine with being able to count them on two hands – how else would I be able to hold them close to my chest?

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

I’m going to assume you mean one writer; otherwise the list would be impossibly long.

Hmmm. For fiction, Colm Toibin. Looking at his career, you could accuse him of finding a niche, but it would be so far from the truth as to be laughable. He’s an established writer and novelist who reinvents his form and style with each book while still being praised as an inventive and consistent prose stylist. Also, he’s very nice (I met him at a book signing a few years back), and has a charitable streak a mile wide and a mile deep. This means he has an edge on many of the writers whose writing I severely admire but whose politics or actions I despise (i.e. Michel Houellebecq or Jonathan Franzen). For poetry, probably Anne Carson.

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

I feel like it’s almost wrong to not do something other than writing in addition to writing.

People have this romantic association with writing that hasn’t existed forever; the job vs. writing dichotomy bores me. Not because it’s untenable in the modern world and economy, etc. – it’s more that it’s untenable for me personally. I would get so fucking restless it wouldn’t be worth it: it would be like living in an abandoned abbey as a monk that doesn’t believe in god. What would the point be then? Just to worship,the act of worship itself? It doesn’t make sense to me.

Which is not to say writing is a hobby for me; it’s more a personal mandate some part of my intuition has given me that I guess I could choose to ignore but only at the expense of my wellbeing. I could choose to play tennis instead, but my mind would start mapping a story out of it, and I’d botch the match, which would be no fun.

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

I wouldn’t say anything, I would just hand them a pen and paper (or ask them to get out their phone) and ask them to write out that question, answer it themselves, read me the result, and then I would just nod and say that writing is doing that over and over consistently. Either that or I just wouldn’t answer them and walk away; it would depend on their tone when asking the question.

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

My third and fourth full-length poetry collections, my fourth play in a four-play cycle, and my second novel (in a planned four-novel cycle). The new poetry collections are so far indebted to a kind of anti-lyric poetry pioneered by some Ahsahta poets (including C. Violet Eaton) and Wayne Johns. The plays are kind of a magical realist riff on Angels in America, using portals and the American South to explore the concept of being closeted and how the past affects the future and vice versa. The novels are (except for the first) all set in a post-apocalyptic future that involves talking animals (evolved animals after Mars crashes into Earth and the humans colonize the Mars portion), and will eventually feature androids as well (and just plain old humans as well).

On Writing Wombwell Rainbow Interviews: Suzanne Craig-Whytock

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.

 

 

Suzanne Craig-Whytock

is a writer from Ontario, Canada. Her first two novels, Smile and The Dome are published by Bookland Press (www.booklandpress.com). Her short fiction has appeared in Slippage Lit and is upcoming in XRAY Literary Magazine. She also writes poetry, and funny/weird things on her website mydangblog (http://educationalmentorship.com).

The Interview

1. What inspired you to write?

I’ve been writing in a variety of genres for as long as I can remember. I wrote my first poem at the age of eight and wrote poetry and short stories all through my teen years and twenties. When I was teaching, I ran my school’s Creative Writing Club, and that’s where I wrote the character piece that became the first chapter in my first novel. I’ve been writing Young Adult novels for the last 10 years; my first novel Smile was published in 2017, and my new novel The Dome will be out this coming October. I’ve had a couple of short stories published in the last little while, which is very nice, although I’ve had way more rejection notices than I’ve had acceptances! I also have a blog where I post humorous essays—people who are familiar with my blog are usually surprised at how dark some of my other writing is! Lately, I’ve gone back to poetry, and I’ve submitted a few pieces here and there, so we’ll see what happens.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

I don’t remember a lot about poetry until grade 12. For some reason, my English teacher decided to have us study T.S. Eliot, and the second I read “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”, I was hooked. I think that was the moment I decided to pursue an English degree and become an English teacher myself. I was lucky enough to be able to introduce Eliot to my own senior International Baccalaureate students, and the first time I read Prufrock to them out loud, I teared up at the end. So I’d have to say it was T.S. Eliot who really introduced me to poetry.

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

Very. I did my English degree over 35 years ago, and the majority of the courses I took focused on poets before the middle of the 20th century. My particular favourites were the Imagists, although I adored Tennyson and Dickinson. In terms of modern poets, Lorna Crozier, a Canadian writer, is probably my favourite, and I love Pablo Neruda.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

I don’t have a ‘daily routine’ since I currently work full-time. I find it hard to squeeze in solid writing time—I’m the kind of writer who needs several free hours in order to focus. I set aside two hours every Saturday morning to write something for my blog, which I post on Sunday morning. Other than that, I usually wait until I have some vacation time, then hammer out several chapters. For my second novel, I had every other Friday off work, so that was my writing day, and I would make notes and capture ideas until I was able to sit down on Friday morning and just write. Unfortunately, I don’t have those days anymore, so I’ll be doing some serious “power-writing” on my August vacation!

5. What motivates you to write?

The sheer joy of doing it. I’ve always loved writing—I sometimes wake up at 3 in the morning with an idea and put it down before I forget it. The creative process is very important to my mental well-being, and when I’m not writing, I’m painting or restoring furniture or doing something ‘craft-y’.

6. What is your work ethic?

I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so I really enjoy the editing process. I do a lot of editing in my daily job as well, so it’s become kind of second nature to me to keep going back to my own work until I’m happy with it. But as we all know, you can revisit a piece a hundred times and still see something you want to change, so at a certain point, I have to just let it be.

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

I read a lot of absurdist literature when I was younger and loved absurd comedy like Monty Python; I think that gets channelled through my humorous writing. As a poet, I’m still influenced by the Imagists and most of my poetry is short and impactful, at least I hope it is. In terms of my novels, the first one is a ‘coming of age’ story that developed out of a love of things like Judy Blume, Beverly Cleary, and other writers I read when I was young who focused on characters with issues that had to be solved. However, my second novel takes place in a futuristic dystopian Toronto landscape, and it’s more heavily plot-oriented, more influenced by fantasy novels I read as a teenager as well as current issues like climate change. When I was in university, I studied Magic Realism, which had a huge influence on my writing—most of my short stories have that quality to them.

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

David Mitchell is one of my favourite authors, along with Neil Gaiman. For short stories, I adore Stephen King, and Annie Proulx’s first short story collection Heartsongs is something I go back to again and again. Basically, I love writers with strange imaginations like mine! For Young Adult fiction, I really admire Pierce Brown—his Red Rising series is incredible.

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

Because I love to do it, and a lot of what I write is for other people; for example, I write my blog to make other people laugh. I always say that if I can tap into other people’s emotions and put a smile on someone’s face or make them cry (in a good way, of course!), then I’ve done my job. But in terms of “as opposed to doing anything else”, I think that writing is the creative outlet I need sometimes. Other times it’s doing something else.

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

You become a writer by writing. Becoming a good writer—that’s a different matter. I think to be a good writer, you need to read a lot in order to understand the nuances of language. But you also need to be a good self-editor so that what you’re putting out is ‘audience-ready’. As I said, I do a lot of editing in my current work, but I’ve edited for other writers as well as for textbooks and on-line courses, so I know how people feel when it seems the writer hasn’t put much energy into making things clear and understandable. Also, I’m a very visual person (I also have a degree in Film Studies), and I tend to play out scenes in my head over and over, experimenting with the dialogue, facial expressions, plot and setting details first before I put anything down on paper, so I think you need to be able to describe things in a way that engages other people and makes them see and feel it too.

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

I’m currently working on my third novel The Seventh Devil— here’s the epigraph:

There’s the devil you know and the devil you don’t,
The devil you’ll meet and the devil you won’t,
A devil that’s tall and a devil that’s small,
And a devil that’s human after all.

It’s about a young woman named Verity Darkwood and her mentor Gareth, who travel across Canada in an old pickup truck and camper van, exorcising ghosts and demons for people who’ve answered their ad in The Echo: An On-line Journal for Lovers of the Macabre, Editor Horace Greeley III. All the while Verity continues the search for her younger sister, who disappeared when Verity was 16, but her biggest challenge is avoiding the mysterious Seventh Devil. I have the whole plot sketched out but I’m only 4 chapters in at this point, and waiting until I’m on vacation to write the next set. My latest novel The Dome will be released on October 15th, although it’s available for pre-order right now at all the major outlets like Amazon and Indigo—I’m looking forward to the book launch and the subsequent promotional work that follows. I’ve been writing poems here and there so I’m working on putting them together in more of a collection. And of course, there’s mydangblog—I’m always working on that!