Shira Dentz [photo credit: Ellen Maddick] is the author of three full-length
books, black seeds on a white dish
(Shearsman), door of thin skins
(CavanKerry), and how do i net thee
(Salmon Poetry, forthcoming, 2018), and two chapbooks, Leaf Weather (Shearsman), and FLOUNDERS
(Essay Press). Her books have been reviewed in many venues including American Book Review, Rain Taxi, and Boston Review, and interviews with her have appeared in journals
including Ploughshares, The Rumpus, and OmniVerse.
Her writing has
appeared widely in journals including Poetry,
The American Poetry Review, The Iowa Review, New American Writing, Entropy,
Brooklyn Rail, and Western Humanities Review, and featured
at The Academy of American Poets’ Poem-a-Day
series, NPR, Poetry Daily, and Verse Daily. She is the recipient of an
Academy of American Poets’ Prize, the Poetry Society of America’s Lyric Poem
and Cecil Hemley Memorial Awards, Electronic
Poetry Review’s Discovery Award,
and Painted Bride Quarterly’s Poetry Prize.
A graduate of
the Iowa Writers‘ Workshop, she has a PhD in Creative Writing and Literature
from the University of Utah. Shira was Drunken
Boat‘s Reviews Editor from 2011-2016, and is now Special Features Editor at
Tarpaulin Sky, and teaches creative writing at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute
in Troy, New York. More about her writing can be found at shiradentz.com.
1 - How did
your first book or chapbook change your life? How does your most recent work
compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
I don’t know that the publication of my first book changed my life, except
that I certainly was no longer eligible to submit to first book poetry
contests. As Francis Picabia wrote, “our heads are round so our thoughts can change
direction.”
2 - How did
you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I’m not sure that I came to poetry first, or even that it came to me
first. When I was seven, I made a pact to try to be a writer, and when I became
a teenager, I decided it was time to start work on this (even in my imagination
there was a felt time for initiation?). My first piece happened to be a poem in
response to a poem that I felt angry at in Seventeen
magazine. This being said, most of my life I referred to myself as a writer,
not a poet, as I didn’t really differentiate // there’s poetry in all genres. In
fact, I practiced as a visual artist too and “artist” is a term that I still go
back and forth with. Now that I write a lot of hybrid stuff, I say that I’m
“mostly a poet”—go figure.
3 - How
long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing
initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking
close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?
No set time: small, medium, long, infinite. It can come quickly and
done in one-go (not so-often). It can come piecemeal and extend over many years
and still not reach closely enough to what I’m reaching after; these open-ended
attempts have become a genre of poem in my mind. Nascent poems that arrive like
imaginary friends when their triggers reappear.
Sometimes what I’m writing leads me to do some research which I love
because I get to learn a lot of interesting things outside of what I’d
otherwise encounter.
4 - Where
does a poem usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end
up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book"
from the very beginning?
A poem for me usually sprouts from a strong sensation or feeling, an
image, a sudden connection that I find enigmatic that I’d like to probe
further, or from free-writing. I always tell my students that writing happens
when you’re writing even though it’s hard for me to practice what I preach (I
tell them that too).
I think there are writers/artists who generally work from the “outside
in” and ones who generally work “inside out,” and that I’m one who most often
works from the inside out. Each approach comes with its own challenges, and I am
an expert now at talking at about the challenges of having the “inside out”
orientation. (The period is like a belly-button too, signifying the
independence of phrase. Implicitly within a context.)
5 - Are
public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort
of writer who enjoys doing readings?
Giving public readings, for me, are part of being a writer—it’s a way
of giving voice to the lyrical component of one’s writing, one’s voice being a
medium—and another way for others to access one’s art. I love to be invited to
read HINT HINT, and especially love readings accompanied with an honorarium.
6 - Do you
have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are
you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current
questions are?
Channeling Francis Picabia again, “our heads are round so our
thoughts can change direction.”
7 – What do
you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Does s/he even
have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
To connect (fill the blank) __________________________
8 - Do you
find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or
both)?
Insightful articulate editors rock. Among my most instructive
experiences with an editor was with Maria Anderson at Essay Press.
9 - What is
the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
From Jean Valentine—you have to be there (at your “writing desk”) in
order to be there when it comes.
10 - How
easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to critical prose)?
What do you see as the appeal?
Easy, except from poetry to fiction and perhaps back again. (Wow, food
for thought, maybe I have trouble moving to fiction because I’m afraid that if
I do, I won’t be able to access writing poetry again. Thank you for this
question!!) Why do some painters draw
and sculpt, too? My art medium is language and I like to explore what I can do
with it as much as I conceive possible.
11 - What
kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does
a typical day (for you) begin?
Depends on where I am and the nature of my employment. I do feel that
having a writing routine is important to keep me flexed as a writer. My typical
day begins with me wishing I hadn’t woken up so early and relishing not having
to get out of bed yet.
12 - When
your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a
better word) inspiration?
Peer writing groups, readings, art exhibits (“art” is defined here as
anything artistic: concerts, visual art, dance, etc.), nature, art
residencies, setting a time to write and sticking with it even if what I write feels
totally (for lack of a better word) uninspired. Try to remember what I tell my
students, writing happens when you’re writing. Once I’m “in it,” the process
takes over—
13 - What
fragrance reminds you of home?
the smell in the air midway between summer and fall; essential oils
like eucalyptus, lavender, and sage clary; chocolate gelato with chocolate
chips; peace.
14 - David
W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms
that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?
Yes, all of the above.
15 - What
other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life
outside of your work?
So many I can’t list them otherwise an avalanche will bury us. Different
ones at different periods and for different reasons.
16 - What
would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Travel to a lot of places including Alaska and Vietnam. That’s just
the tip of the iceberg.
17 - If you
could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what
do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?
Astronomer. Visual artist. Musician. Multi-media designer of the
opening credits of films. Someone who’s very critical (in a smart way) once
said that if I were a lawyer, they’d hire me. I think I would’ve been a very
good lawyer if I hadn’t needed to be an artist, and I’d be rich, though I’d
probably be a social advocate lawyer so not-so rich.
Also something to do with eyes. Eyes are suns.
18 - What
made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
my brother’s death, childhood, the word “never”
19 - What
was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
The Complete Stories of Leonora Carrington (Dorothy Publishing Project, 2017). My Cousin Rachel, a 2017 film based on
Daphne du Maurier’s 1951 novel.
Other recently experienced standouts: Planetary Noise: Selected Poetry of Erin Moure (Wesleyan, 2017), Certain Magical Acts; Alice Notley
(Penguin, 2016); Monsters, Karen Brennan (Four Way Books, 2016); Dear Data, a collaboration between Giorgia Lup and Stefani Posavec (Princeton
Architectural Press, 2016), In the Language of My Captor, Shane McCrae (Wesleyan, 2017). I Love Dick (Amazon Video, 2016). And Stephen Colbert’s opening
monologues, like poetry, on The Late Show
almost every night during the agonizing current and ongoing political nightmare
in the U.S.
20 - What
are you currently working on?
Writing whatever in order to find what I’m writing, peer writing group
prompts, and a Dream Box centered around
constructing a nontraditional sense of “home.”
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