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.

Marisa Silva-Dunbar

is a Pushcart nominated poet. Her work has been published in Angelical Ravings, The Same, work to a calm poetry zine, Amaryllis, Manzano Mountain Review, Bone & Ink Press, Pussy Magic, Midnight-Lane Boutique, The Ginger Collect, Barren Magazine, Chantarelle’s Notebook, Sixfold, Constellate Literary Journal, Rose Quartz Journal, Awkward Mermaid, Spider Mirror Journal, Mojave He[art] Review, Anti-Heroin Chic Magazine, Poetry WTF?!, Better than Starbucks Magazine, Redheaded Stepchild, Words Dance Magazine and Gargoyle Magazine. She graduated from the University of East Anglia with her MA in poetry, and has been shortlisted twice for the Eyewear Publishing Fortnight Poetry Prize. Marisa is a contributing writer at Pussy Magic. She has work forthcoming in Dark Marrow, Feminine Collective, Constellate Literary Journal, The Charles River Journal, and Apathy Press. Marisa is the founder and EIC of Neon Mariposa Magazine.

https://marisasilvadunbar.com/

The Interview

1. When and why did you start writing poetry?

I wrote poetry for myself in middle and high school. When I started uni (at the University of New Mexico), I took a creative writing course. My instructor encouraged me to take more classes, and eventually helped me change my major. At 18 I started writing seriously. I liked the challenge of creating snapshots, and narratives that other people connected with. I wanted to share my stories, to not feel alone.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

My sixth grade English teacher read [in Just-] by  e.e. Cummings, and we had an assignment where we had to write a poem in a similar style, but about a different season. I chose summer.  Years after, I would think about the line/image from his poem “when the world is mud-/luscious…” That was the first time a poem stuck with me.

2.1. Why did it stick with you?

I think it was the first poem that I read/heard that wasn’t a rhyming couplet. It had a lot of rich imagery, and “mudluscious” isn’t a word heard often. It makes me think of being a child, and making mud pies in the backyard—that’s a pretty magical time.

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

Even when I was writing in high school, the presence of traditional poets loomed over me. We weren’t really presented with work by contemporary poets, and I feel that’s why I thought it was easier to write. I didn’t realize how much went into writing a poem—imagery, word choice, where to break a line and why, formatting, or even the purpose of the poem. My biggest concern in those days was whether it rhymed or not.

When I became familiar with contemporary poetry, there was an acute awareness of the importance and power of the older poets within the community. I found poets whose work I really connected with—Sandra Cisneros, Amiri Baraka, Belle Waring, and Anne Sexton. I was introduced to these poets by my mentor at the time, Sarah Azizi. I loved the imagery in her work as well.

3.1. Which poets stayed with you, and why?

Belle Waring, Sandra Cisneros, Clementine Von Radics, and Amber Tamblyn.  Their poetry resonates, and I think at times can be cinematic. The first three women’s poems that stick with me, are ones about heartache, but they feel fresh and relatable. I love Amber Tambly’s Dark Sparkler. The subject matter is rich and I think takes a look at what is demanded of women as a whole.

3.2. What connected you with the poetry of Sandra Cisneros, Amiri Baraka, Belle Waring, and Anne Sexton?

With Sandra Cisneros, I think there was more of a cultural connection with her use of language and imagery. I grew up with her short stories and reading House on Mango Street, so I think in a way, reading her poetry was like getting to know someone who’s been in your life– on a deeper level. Amiri Baraka and Belle Waring, were fresh voices that I hadn’t heard during my years at school. Their styles and subject matter are different, but they both showed me what poetry could be, that it didn’t fit neatly into this box that I thought it had to. I had always heard about Anne Sexton in connection with Sylvia Plath–they were friends, but Plath was a feature in our high school textbooks, while Sexton was not. Sexton dgaf when it came to subject matter, so her poems can be quite shocking.

3.3. What was this “box” that you thought poetry should “fit neatly into”?

I thought it had to rhyme and be about love (usually heartbreak) or nature. Most of the poems we read in school were by white men, occasionally a friend would have a copy of some clichéd poem about breaking up with a boyfriend that they found on the internet. And don’t get me wrong there are some amazing poems about heartbreak, but we weren’t aware of them, nor were we trying to write them.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

I like to write in the evenings when I get home from work. In the spring and summer, I try to go to coffee shops and write there–people watching can be very helpful. Sometimes, I can be consumed with a project and try to fit writing in as often as I can. When I was working on the poems for my Allison Mack chap, I would write during lunch or whatever breaks I could. I’d look at pieces in the morning and stay up late trying to get something down.

5. What motivates you to write?

A lot of the time it’s catharsis; I can’t always say what I need to people, or they don’t really listen. Writing helps me make sense, and yeah, there’s the chance those people still won’t read the work or hear me, but it’s out there. Other times it’s just to capture a memory, or a thought that sticks with me.

5.1. How can “people watching” be helpful?

Sometimes it’s overhearing bits of a conversation, and having that inspire a piece or observing how people are interacting. Sometimes it’s trying to imagine what life that person might have outside of that very moment.

6. What is your work ethic?

I think it shifts with the time of year. Sometimes I can afford to give writing more attention and other times, it unfortunately takes a back seat to my day job. I do enjoy my day job, but it can require a lot of time and energy depending on the day or even the season.

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

It’s like going home. If I feel lost or unsure I will pick up Sandra Cisneros’s “Loose Woman,” read Francesca Lia Block for inspiration. I like the way FLB writes poems about people, specifically women. And Sandra’s imagery is so potent.

I didn’t mention her earlier because it wasn’t only her poetry that influenced me, but the dreamy feel of Francesca Lia Block’s writing has definitely been something that stays with me. She’s a very strong magical realism writer, I love her imagery and word choice. And especially early on as a poet, there were certain ideas and feelings I wanted to emulate.

When it comes to the writers that I read when I was younger, I think their influence has become broader as I’ve grown as a writer. I definitely feel like I have more of my own style and voice, and because of this I don’t want to be tied to another. I look to their writing as a guide for what subject matter I can attempt to take on; it’s more of a challenge to be brave and try something new.

7.1. If a reader wanted to read Francesca Lia Block what would you recommend as a good starting point?

I’d recommend “Girl Goddess #9.” It’s a collection of short stories, so it’s kind of like a tasting menu of her writing. I also think Echo is a great coming of age story, and the one that started it all for me Violet & Claire, which is a platonic love story.

7.2. What ideas and feelings of hers did you want to emulate?

I really loved her imagery and the sense that anything was possible. It was like having a spell cast on you as reader. I know there were times I wanted to jump into a scene, even if it wasn’t being driven by action, because the description was so magical.

7.3. “magical”?

There are scenes from her short stories and novels that stick with me, but the example that’s been on my mind is the excerpt from her novel Echo “Eva believed the place was enchanted, not realizing that she was the enchantment. She picked oranges and avocados when she was hungry and she floated in the water all day until her ivory skin turned to gold and her hair grew even longer, down to her knees.” And that’s just getting us into the chapter. There’s something about her work that is so satisfying.

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

Tianna G. Hansen, Vanessa Maki, Kathryn Merwin, and Melissa Lozada-Oliva. I remember reading Kathryn Merwin’s work during a period of time when I hadn’t written for months and was at a crossroads with my reading. Her work was so beautiful that it inspired me to keep writing, and that was the first time I really looked at myself and said if I want to be a writer, I need to be working a helluva lot harder. Vanessa’s work is experimental and she is really creative. I’m currently looking over her chapbook “Chosen One” about Buffy the vampire slayer. Tianna is just an all around badass; she runs her own press, and magazines, she’s writing some really beautiful wolf poems. Melissa creates powerful poems from the personal to, political, to an analysis of pop culture.

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

I would say, read as much as you can. Figure out the things you like as a reader, and see how you could apply similar techniques to your own work. Don’t plagiarize.

Be prepared to get lots of rejections. Write, edit, rewrite. One of the best pieces of advice an instructor gave to me was, “you’re rarely going to write a great poem in ten minutes. You’re going to have a few drafts before you get a piece right.” Sometimes you have to let work sit for awhile before it’s ready. There was a poem I wrote years ago that I knew needed a partner, and it took me five years before that happened.

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

I’m currently working on a couple of chaps/micro chaps. One is about my first year living in England, and the three women I formed a friendship with that year. The other is a chap based around untranslatable words.

I’m still writing for Pussy Magic and hope to compile my goddess poems into a chap within the next year or two. I’m slowly reorganizing my full length manuscript and hope to have that finished by the end of the 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 poets you may know, others may be new to you. I hope you enjoy the experience as much as I do.

Simon Corble

Played Hamlet aged 16 at Lymm Grammar School, Cheshire and never looked back.
Trained as an actor at Manchester Poly but started to create my own work even then. Founded Midsommer Actors’ Co. in 1990 specifically to create promenade theatre in the most atmospheric natural locations; but with the emphasis on the actor’s performance. Won awards and a massive following in the North of England. Started writing for this unique form of theatre. In addition, I was writing and directing for, amongst others, the likes of The Library Theatre Co. Harrogate Theatre, The London Bubble,Lancaster Duke’s Playhouse, North Country Theatre.
2001: Took two years out to work on the extraordinary Greek Island of Ikaria as a guide and manager for a small tour company. Started Found Theatre with first production in 2005.  Powerful stories, simple means. Concentrating principally on writing at present, with some directing and performance work.

The Interview

1. How did your start in writing poetry lead to the publication of White Light White Peak?

I had been writing poetry, on and off, all my life, but always judged it not worthy of sharing.  I think I was correct in this, as, looking back on my earlier work, I don’t see very much I like.  I suppose you could say that I had not found my own voice.  Interestingly I was more than happy to write verse for my plays; The Hound of the Baskervilles, for example, begins entirely in ballad form, as a rustic melodrama for the first fifteen pages.  In writing for the stage, you are of course using someone else’s voice, that of your character..  Several things then seemed to come together for me, just over a decade ago, a major factor being the move up to the White Peak plateau from Manchester.  It is a bit of a cliché for a writer, moving somewhere remote to concentrate on work, but for me it became a reality in a rather interesting way.  For a start we are not remote, but in the middle of a lively village community, where I, for example, edit the local magazine. Secondly, I started writing poems again, this time in earnest.  Moving to the village where we now live felt like a home coming for me, as I had grown up in a very similar place, to the age of thirteen, on the edge of the Cotswolds and I think that also had much to do with this new inspiration. Reconnecting with my “inner child?”  As the poems came along pretty freely, I began to notice common themes and of course, settings.  While there is actually a huge variety of forms in the collection and subjects as diverse as cleaning my boots in the remains of a snowman, to the suicide of a once close friend, the landscape of the White Peak is always there, at least as background. It started to feel like it was heading towards a coherent whole very early on.  In parallel I had been working on my photography and I formed my vision for a publication that would balance the two disciplines.  It has been five years’ work pulling it all together, launching a live performance piece and, finally, finding a sympathetic publisher.  I was really fortunate to more-or-less stumble across Isabelle and her Fly on the Wall Press, if you can “stumble across” online.  A chance encounter via Linkedin, (yes, folks,  it really can be useful) quickly led to an agreement, just when I was beginning to think that no one would touch such a hybrid animal.

2. Who introduced you to poetry?

I would have to credit the delightfully named and generally delightful man, Mr. Trinkle, our bee-keeping primary school teacher.  In a classroom smelling of honey and beeswax (the smell of which automatically transports me back to the age of nine, even now) he would read poetry to us on a daily basis and in a fairly random fashion.  The one piece which I remember really grabbing me I later found out was by Shakespeare – the song which ends Love’s Labours Lost, concluding “Then nightly sings the staring owl,/Tu-who;/Tu-whit, tu-who: a merry note, / While greasy Joan doth keel the pot“.  The words seemed like rich magic and yet described people carrying out domestic chores, with extreme difficulty in harsh winter weather.  I had no thought that they were written hundreds of years ago. Above all, they created vivid pictures in my head and made me feel I wanted to do the same with my words.  I think he must have read the poems brilliantly too.  If Mr.Trinkle created a first spark, it would have to be the poet Wilfred Owen who showed me what powerful poetry could do; that it might even change things. To use an unfortunate phrase, I was blown away on discovering Owen’s work, again at school and again with the guidance of a really good teacher, who was one of the first to spot some promise in my own writing and encourage me forwards.

2.1. Who introduced you to photography?

At the risk of sounding repetitive, school again. There was a photography club, which I joined aged sixteen, with an Ilford 35mm camera which must have been a hand-me-down from one of my elder brothers. Back in those days, way before digital, if you processed your own prints it meant working in black-and-white, so that was when I started to understand how fundamental light and basic composition were. We were all learning from each other, I guess, but it was also the golden era for monochrome photography in the Guardian newspaper, which my parents read. Denis Thorpe and Don Mcphee were like the photographic equivalents of Wilfred Owen for me; their work was not only beautiful but served a clear purpose. When the Guardian actually sent Denis to photography the site-specific theatre I was creating in the 1990’s, it felt like a massive honour. Watching him work was revelation; so unassuming, so unobtrusive, like a day-tripper casually taking a few snapshots. I asked for a copy of one photo (which was so good the Guardian reprinted it as their New Year’s Day centre spread in the G2 supplement) and he generously sent me a whole package of large prints from that session.

3. How do the writers and photographers you read or admired when you were young influence you today?

It is like an unconscious bank of language and ways of using language. You can throw the Bible and the Book of Common Prayer into that mix, also, along with lyrics from the Beatles, Bowie and Mark E. Smith of The Fall. All of this and much more seeped into my brain from a very young age and right through my teens. Above all, what the voices from back then teach is to innovate, without thought of how it might be received, to create what pleases myself. And what pleases me nearly always has a ring of magic – something that ultimately cannot be defined or understood by any theory, the highly elusive. With photography it is more simple: It’s all about the essence of a moment, but, again, to steer well clear of the obvious.

4. What is your daily writing and photographic routine?

You have to be kidding? I am pretty chaotic. Fine if I have a deadline that has been set for me – like the prose, short intro pieces in White Light White Peak, I sat down at 10am for a week and simply worked a normal day – but otherwise it happens when it happens. Poetry needs real space. Nothing is getting written at the moment, as there is so much to do to prepare for the tour of “the live experience” that runs alongside the book’s publication and all of my photography sessions in the past month or so have been to do with filling gaps in the live show. I have had to wait for a particular, still, warm evening, for example, with the honesty and apple blossom in bloom; conditions whereby I could literally take pictures by candlelight in my garden. The poem in question is called This Still Evening. Most of the time photography is nearly always even more spontaneous than poetry for me, which is why I go around with at least my compact strapped to my belt. Whenever I do set out with a particular purpose, to tackle a defined subject, something intervenes and the session becomes about that. Another thing is that the least time I spend in front of a computer screen the better. So my manipulations I keep to a minimum; the very best shots are always perfectly captured with the camera, just as in the old days of film. Same with poetry: Sessions come on when I am inspired (I have no idea how this happens) and I work in pencil, usually in a special book, which must on no account have lined pages. For some really strange reason, travelling by train is really productive for me. I have seriously thought about getting a day-rover ticket and simply going back and forth on the Buxton to Manchester service all day long.

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

When I think about it, it is the performers I admire most among today’s poets.  A predictable answer in some ways, from a playwright, theatre director and erstwhile actor, but actually the work of the likes of John Hegley, Zephaniah, Lemn Sissay, or Kate Tempest is quite a distance from my output.  Or is it?  The sounds of words is so important to me; it simply isn’t a poem until it is spoken aloud – and that has been a constant, right back to “greasy Joan doth keel the pot” in Mr. Trinkle’s primary class.   I know I am not happy with anything I write until, as I put it, I “wrestle it to the ground” out on one of my daily walks.  Anyone I meet must think I am a few iambs short of a sonnet.    With the photography, the internet has changed everything utterly.  The people I admire now are not “names” but are those I come across in obscure corners of the world, quietly doing their own idiosyncratic thing and sharing it on Flickr, where I have been a member since 2005, way before I saw any need to involve myself with any other forum.

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

Find your own voice, trust in your own instincts.  So easy to say, much less easy to accomplish.  I have been lucky in coming from the world of live theatre, because there everything is tested in public, brutally and quickly.  It is where I learned to trust instinct over anything else.  When I directed “A Midsommer Night’s Dreame” a kind of vision came to me for the final, magical moments, involving the whole cast suddenly discovering their “inner dream-fairy” advancing on Oberon to light sparklers in a group wigwam, then wandering off to hand them over to the random people in the audience.  Part of my mind was going, “Why?  What is that saying?  Justify it!”  I did not.  I let it happen and it was simply right.  There is a poem in White Light White Peak, which is not only all about that, but was itself created in a similar fashion and it is arguably the best, or worst, poem in the collection.  That’s the other thing; you have to be daring, take what may seem like almighty risks.  Break rules, take a walk on the wild side, to quote the man who coined the phrase behind the title of my book.  There are a few other pieces of advice I would give about photography, in addition of the above.  They are quite specific, but a bit more than “tips”.  Whenever you take a shot, (or crop a shot, which can be just as important) ask yourself, “What is the photo about?”  It is simple enough as a question and kind of obvious, but I find myself repeating it again and again and it really helps focus, sometimes literally.  The other is to remember what “photography” actually means – “light-drawing”.  Light is your medium, you have nothing else and it is certainly not about “kit”.  Don’t get distracted or intimidated by “kit”, just find what you enjoy using.  Relish light in all its forms.  None of this is really answering the question, “How do you become a writer and/or photographer?”  That is far more involved; but you have to practice first and totally love what you do, or you are lost.   These days, of course, there are courses and they may be a help, but make sure they are courses which take you out of your depth, until  “you don’t feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom” as Bowie famously said.

7. Tell me about writing projects you are currently involved in:

I have co-written The Red Room, a play set in an old mental asylum, spanning across different time periods; it is part-ghostly, without giving too much away.  It will be produced next year, directed by my co-writer, Alice Bartlett, who is directing me in WLWP.  and will actually visit such places, on the first leg of a short tour  I am also co-writing a comedy set in Lapland, with a Finnish comedian.  Very different territory but a lot of fun and I got a trip to Lapland out of it as research, which was amazing and magical. I am also inching towards a new poetry collection which will range across memories to do with water. That’s quite a deep one. I have three poems for it so far – my very earliest memory, one from teenage years and a very recent happening.  It needs space, so will not get any further until the Autumn I imagine.

 

sonja benskin mesher & reuben woolley – .about . https://sonja-reuben.weebly.com/

https://faithfictionfriends.blogspot.com/2020/01/saturday-good-reads_11.html?spref=tw

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.

Kitty Donnelly

was born in Oxford to Irish parents.

She has lived in Oxford, Cumbria, London, Swansea, Chichester and currently lives in West Yorkshire.

In 2005/6, she had her first poems published by Acumen, The Forward Press and in the Samaritan’s Anthology as well as being short and long-listed for several poetry competitions.

In 2007, she took a long-break from writing and submitting poems following the birth of her daughter.

In 2016, her poem Migration was commended in the Southport Writers’ Circle Poetry Competition and she was long-listed for the Canterbury University Poet of the Year for her poem Night At Whitestone Farm. Her poems West Pier and An Immigrant, Dover were short-listed in the Hungry Hill Wild Atlantic Words 2016 Poetry Competition and have appeared in the recent anthology. She has been published in Mslexia and Message in A Bottle in 2016.

In 2017, she has been published in Acumen, The American Journal of Poetry, The Dawntreader, The Fenland Reed and Sentinel Literary Quarterly. Her pamphlet, No Tranquil Season, has recently been Highly Commended in the Indigo Dreams Pamphlet Prize. She had two poems in the October 2017 issue of Quadrant. In 2018 she has had work accepted by the New Welsh Review, Domestic Cherry and has just been long-listed in or The Plough Prize. She is currently supporting the Big Lit Festival and has some poems in a window somewhere…

She regularly reviews poetry books for Mslexia. She also assists in editing the online journal The Beautiful Space – A Journal of Mind, Art and Poetry. 

https://kittydonnellypoet.wordpress.com/

The Interview

1. When and where were you inspired to write poetry?

I was brought up surrounded by books.  Both my mum and dad were avid readers and I recall watching them make home-made bookshelves using bricks and plywood. Books were stacked from floor to ceiling. I remember reading titles (for example Thus Spoke Tharathustra) and dwelling on what they might possible mean and what secrets were behind those covers. My mum and dad were both from working class backgrounds and were the first generations to enter higher education. In a way, this created the dream scenario. I had an extremely ‘down to earth’ childhood where finding a ten pence piece in the lining of the sofa was an event of high excitement (meaning sweets, or being able to go to Brownies), and at the same time I had the privilege of being surrounded by literature and shelves of escapism. In summary, the message was pretty much ‘we can live on lentil soup but we can’t survive without books.’ I still go by that, absolutely.
Both sides of my family are Irish. As a child, I was fascinated by Irish folk lore, and tales of ghosts, Banshees and the many superstitions my dad passed on to me. These captured my imagination and I often lay awake at night terrified by them, but I couldn’t let them be. What is frightening is fascinating and also material for writing. I remember my dad walking me to school talking about ‘Mad Shelley the poet’ and being intrigued by the idea that you could be ‘a poet’, and asking ‘am I mad, dad? Do you have to be mad to be a poet?’ I’m still not sure of the answer….

2. Who introduced you to poetry?
The first poems I read that inspired me were The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes and The Listeners by Walter de le Mare. Both of them have the mysterious, slightly supernatural quality that I still look for in poetry as an adult.  My dad wrote novels in the attic of an old rented house we lived in in Oxford for a time. I used to sit on the attic stairs and listen to the click of the typewriter, feeling something incredibly important was happening. This inspired me to write. I initially kept notebooks from around the age of six. I invented a (not very imaginatively named) band called ‘The Stars’ and wrote so-called lyrics for them, which I suppose were my first poems.

3. dominance
Only in the last three years have I become aware of a diverse range of poetry. I’ve subscribed to a variety of magazines and journals and have bought pamphlets and collections by a huge range of writers of different styles and ages.  Prior to this, I did feel that writing was dominated by ‘the Canon’, some of which I admire greatly.
I think the type of poems accepted by magazines are changing. There seems to be a shift back to ‘free verse’, some of which I find free and inspiring, and some which is too loose – formally – for me. I instinctively want to go through it and change verbs, delete connectives and put in a bit of punctuation. Maybe I need to become a bit ‘freer’ myself.

4. What is your daily writing routine?

For the last fifteen years I have worked in mental health services. This has predominantly dictated my daily routine, along with family commitments. I have an amazing daughter who is now twelve. Mental health support is not a role you can easily switch off from. It has also occupied a great deal of my thoughts while not at work at certain times.
In 2017, I attended  an  Arvon Course at Lumb Bank. A couple of the students on the course appeared shocked when I answered their questions about my home and work life. One woman said ‘how do you ever manage to write at all? Your life is too crowded.’ The answer, at that time, was that I wrote in bed until the early hours of the morning. I then got up at 7am, took my daughter to school, went to work and arrived home around 6.30pm, made tea, crammed in some writing and started again with the alarm. It was totally unsustainable. Shortly after the Arvon Course,  I had a sort-of ‘crash’. I wasn’t coping with conflicting demands. I was very depressed for several months and it really changed the way I view my work/life/writing balance. I realised I needed to make space for writing to survive. I began working part-time and have stuck to that ever since, managing on a tight budget.
Now, when I’m not working, my writing routine involves sleeping in late (sometimes very late!) and then writing on my laptop in bed as soon as I wake-up. Recently – as I’ve been finishing my collection –I’ve been trying to write about  seven hours a day. Sometimes, when the dishes are piled in the sink and the recycling has stacked up beside the door, I think ‘am I selfish’, or ‘am I indulging myself writing when I should be doing jobs?’ My overwhelming contempt for domestic chores always comes through and, mostly,  I am able to convince myself that writing in my pyjamas in bed – getting up to get pints of water from the bathroom tap and not even venturing downstairs – is more important than the dishes, or washing the cat’s bowl.
If I’m not at work the next day, I sometimes write until the early hours of the morning – or until I’m so tired I’m basically writing nonsense. By nature, I’m nocturnal. My dad was the same and so is my sister. It’s a definite preference anyway.

5. What motivates you to write?

I’ve become far more motivated to write in the last 18 months. I’m lucky in that I’m never short of ideas. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for time. I usually write my initial ideas for poems in a notebook and then type them up and develop them from there.

6. Who of today’s writers do you most admire, and why?
I’m very lucky to be doing an MA in Creative Writing at Manchester Metropolitan University. There are some amazing students on the course and their writing for the workshops has been inspiring me. I thought Fiona Benson’s recent collection Vertigo and Ghost was excellent and very original.  I’ve also enjoyed the originality and humour in Wayne Holloway Smith’s poems. Ilya Kaminsky is inspiring and gets right to the heart of the world’s problems. I admire him greatly for that ability.

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

My most significant influence by far, however, is the novelist Jean Rhys. Her ability to convey loss, fear, social exclusion and existentialism is underrated to the point of literary negligence (should this crime exist!) and I return to her novels time and again for inspiration. She doesn’t date at all and has what I would call a ‘clairvoyant’ quality in terms of her insight into humanity.

8. Why do you write, as opposed to doing anything else?
I think the answer to ‘why I write’ is that living is simply not satisfactory in itself. It leaves too many unanswered questions. It is plagued by mundanity, but there is also mystery. It is the mystery of my brief time on the planet that I want to capture. Personally, I have no interest in wealth, status or even personal possessions (apart from gifts from people I love). It’s genuinely unsettling to inhabit a world fuelled by consumerism when all the things you want (to be with loved ones, to create) are not material. That’s not to say I can cope without wine, or the money to travel to see family, but generally I don’t really have those desires for ‘things’. I don’t value possessions.

9. How would you answer someone who asked “How do you become a writer?
In terms of how to become a writer, the key – I think – is imagination. Yes, formal skills can be taught, heroes can be imitated, but if there isn’t the imaginative drive to create, I don’t think these are sufficient in themselves. I don’t lack imagination, but for many years I lacked the formal skills to construct a good poem. If you have the ideas, this can be overcome by graft – redraft and redraft.

10. Tell me about writing projects you are involved in at the moment.
I am currently completing my first collection, The Impact of Limited Time, which is due to be published by Indigo Dreams later this year.  I am lucky enough to be doing an MA in Creative Writing at MMU which is giving me a great deal of constructive criticism. I won a Creative Futures Award in 2019, and they continue to support my writing. I have a poem due out in the Dear Dylan anthology, dedicated to poems inspired by Dylan Thomas (Indigo Dreams), published later this year. I am actually in a  ‘writing phase’ at the moment. Long may it last!

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.

Angela Gabrielle Fabunan

was raised in New York City and lives in Manila. She currently attends the University of the Philippines MA Creative Writing program and teaches at the Technological Institute of the Philippines. In 2016, she was awarded the Carlos Palanca Memorial Foundation Awards for Poetry. Her work has appeared in or is forthcoming from The Indianapolis Review, Cordite Review, Asymptote Journal, Harana Poetry, New Asian Writing, and River River Journal, among others. She is one of the current poetry editors at Inklette Magazine. Her first book of poetry, The Sea That Beckoned, is available from Platypus Press.

Facebook Page: Angela Gabrielle Fabunan https://www.facebook.com/pg/angelagabriellefabunan

Twitter handle: agfabunan https://twitter.com/agfabunan

Instagram: dalagang_filipina https://www.instagram.com/dalagang_filipina/

Portfolio Page: https://agfabunan.journoportfolio.com/

The Interview

1. What inspired you to write poetry?

When I was younger, I had a 3rd grade teacher named Mrs. Lippman, who has now passed on. She was amazing because I learned so much from her and the classroom library that she gave me access to. There, I started reading children’s books like the poems of Emily Dickinson, Anne of Green Gables, Pollyanna, The Giver, Number the Stars, and others.

I can really say that it was Mrs. Lippman and Emily that got me into poetry. It was my first year in America as an immigrant from the Philippines. My window in my room then had a full view of the moon, and I remember nights staying up late to look at the moon and read Emily Dickinson’s many tidings about it. It was an idealistic and romantic time, looking back now.

It was my introduction to the world of literature. Early on, I was reading the classics for kids, and later moved to young adult fiction. I think we have much to thank the early educators as well as the children’s and young adult book writers for instilling passion for the written word to kids as young as I was then.

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

At first, poetry was really intimate to me. It was just between me and the page. Looking back at all the journals that I kept growing up, I realize knew I wanted to be a writer even early on. And yet, I wasn’t aware of what it would be like to belong to a community of writers. Of course, the presence of that community loomed large where I grew up, in New York, but I always thought they just wore lots of black and drank lots of coffee and that’s it. There’s so much more to poetry than its appearance to the public.

I moved back to the Philippines in my young adult life and that’s when my flirtation with poetry started to get serious. I was in my first year of graduate studies not knowing what I was to do. I took a fiction class first and most of my fiction came out like really long poems, looking back now.

It was only when I took my first two poetry classes at the University of the Philippines and the following semesters after that that I thought: ok, this is what I’m meant to do. In those classes, I read English poets like Philip Larkin and Seamus Heaney alongside Philippine poets like Angela Manalang Gloria and Virginia Moreno. I started writing poems that I would scan for meter and rhyme, which is probably why I still write from time-to-time in traditional forms. I poured my heart out that semester and some of those poems found their way to “The Sea That Beckoned,” published by Platypus Press. I really fell in love then and to this day, I remember that feeling—it is what propels me forward.

I veered away from the question, but I think that I always thought that the older poets, with their mature experience of the craft inspired me rather than instilling fear in me. We are all part of a community of poets and I like to think we all belong and have our place in it. I’ve heard the term “serious poetry” often, which makes me wonder if it’s really serious poetry we are looking for or the more serious dedication that makes or breaks a poet that we want to see. All in all, I’m happy to belong to a community of writers here in the Philippines that, although it has its flaws, for the most part encourages rather than detracts the writing of poetry.

3. What is your daily writing routine?

My daily writing routine consists of me putting on my black outfit, drinking my first cup of black coffee and writing in my black notebook—just kidding.

This is what’s true: I usually read and write poetry at night now. Perhaps it is from the early childhood years of looking at the moon and reading poetry. I used to write in the daytime in cafés but it got too expensive. And a bit too stereotypical for my comfort. I got so used to the mantra “fake it until you make it” that I think to myself sometimes that I’m still trying to fake being a poet. Does one ever become a poet, or do you know just you are at some point? I’ll leave that open-ended for now.

4. What motivates you to write?

There is one thing about my daily routine that stays constant: I read a poem or a collection of poems by other writers before I write one of my own. It is a type of tradition that my early college years instilled in me: read, read, and read. A new page always seems fresh to me, even if I have read it countless of times before. There is always something new to learn from a poem. And many things to learn from other writers. Learning from these two sources—the poem and the author—has always and will always motivate me to write and contribute to the works of those who have come before me.

Tradition is important to me. Nothing in poetry is new. It is a long tradition like a tree with many, many branches. But only in plumbing the depths of the works that have been written before can you find your own slant of light. We have to find what we can contribute to the exchange of ideas between all these different types of poets. What are we adding to the conversation? Who are we replying to? Who are we speaking to? How can we say what we want to say? Ideas motivate me to write, not just to be heard, but to be part of some kind of conversation.

5. What is your work ethic?

I have been told by mentors that I write volumes. That’s just how my process is. I am fully aware that they’re rarely good poems when they’re first put down, but I write many in one go just to get that shitty first draft, as Anne Lamott calls it, over with. I go through so many new first drafts and many more revisions. I have a lot of respect for those who hold on to a draft for a long time, like Elizabeth Bishop. Alas, I’m more of a Robert Lowell when it comes to my writing process, I think.

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

Of course, I’d first say my previous mentors and influences, popular Philippine poets Isabela Banzon, Jose Neil Garcia, Paolo Manalo, and Conchitina Cruz. I love each of their work because they are my Philippine romantics. I’ve learned much from them as human beings and as poets. I won’t gush here.

Next, I’d have to say I have so much admiration for poets who have made social media their home. I don’t know the first thing about the language of the internet, but I know it is in the air of the future. They’re the ones that will be in our history books, soon.

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

I write because I want to converse. There are people I want to talk to, dead or alive, here or distant, found in the now or lost in a time and space. I want to be able to say to them what I would have said if the time was right. I am a Romantic, I think, with a big R, and I write to people whom I have loved in many different ways. The art of letter writing is dying, but I think the people who want to read poetry around the world read it as some kind of letter to the world. My poems are certainly my own “Letter to the World,” if I may invoke Dickinson again.

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

I think I can’t say this enough, but it really helps if you pick up a book and a notebook. Reading is writing and writing is reading. That’s really it. See if it’s for you and if you’re happy doing it, having that book in your hands, whatever it is, and wanting to respond to it. And if you’re happy doing that, do it again the next day. And the next and so on and so forth. One day, you’ll look at yourself in the mirror and think to yourself, “Am I a writer now?” And the answer from across the pond will confirm with a resounding “Yes!”

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

I have a poem, which is I think perhaps one of my better poems, called “Catastrophes of Home,” which will be out in The Indianapolis Review this April 2020. I’m really excited for the public to see that.

I have been writing a second manuscript after the release of The Sea That Beckoned that might see the light of day in the next few years or so, in line with the researching and writing about a theory of Philippine Romanticism that I’m espousing, about how romanticism is unique to my country. This should keep me writing for the coming years, as well as the deep longing which is an ever-present shadow behind me.

Many thanks to Paul Brookes for this interview.