Lauren
Haldeman is the author of Instead of Dying (winner of the 2017 Colorado Prize for Poetry, Center for
Literary Publishing, 2017), Calenday (Rescue
Press, 2014) and the artist book The
Eccentricity is Zero (Digraph Press, 2014). Her work has appeared or is
forthcoming in Tin House, The Colorado
Review, Fence, The Iowa Review and The Rumpus. A comic book artist and
poet, she has taught in the U.S. as well as internationally. She has been a
recipient of the 2015 Sustainable Arts Foundation Award, the Colorado Prize for
Poetry and fellowships from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. You can find her online
at http://laurenhaldeman.com
1 - How did your
first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your
previous? How does it feel different?
My first book, Calenday,
really pulled me out of a deep creative rut. I had been writing and trying to
get published for so long, from an early age, and after years and years of rejections,
I started to give up. My manuscripts weren't getting picked up by presses, my
voice felt stalled, and my life had suddenly significantly changed (I birthed a
human baby!) – so it felt like my poetry life must be over. I actually had the
thought, "I'm a mother now so I can't be anything else." But I still
kept writing. Like, I couldn't really stop. The poems in both Instead of Dying and Calenday weren't written with an
audience in mind because I thought I had given up. And then that first
book revitalized me. It made me remember what I was doing & why. It made me
realize it wasn't over – I was just actually starting.
2 - How did you
come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
Oh, I thought I was going to be a great novelist! I came to the
University of Iowa for undergrad when I was 18, and I dove right into fiction
classes. Very quickly early on, one of my teachers pulled me aside and said
"Lauren, I ... I think you are writing ... poetry," like it was
some awkward discovery. And it was true: the words in my "fiction"
were so dense on the page; I would write whole pages of "fiction"
that were just me describing how leaves turn into mulch. Whole pages of that!
Can you imagine? I never actually got to an narrative plot point. I just
wanted to write about mulch. So, poetry it was.
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?
I would say both. Much of Instead
of Dying happened in first drafts. I would sit down to write, and a
poem would come out. Of course, this is the result of years and years of
writing and failing, for over a decade. At some point, you have written so much
crap that non-crap eventually just *has* to come out. You can quote me on that,
too; it is obviously a brilliant quote.
Then there is this other collection I've been working on
called Team Photograph; it has
been in the making for 18 years. I have copious amounts of notes for it, I have
done a rabid amount of research. I keep rewriting huge chunks of it. Who knows
when it will be finished. Hey, maybe it will be never finished!! Hahaha!
*weeps*
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?
I usually work in very small chunks. Sometimes I write in a
notebook that is the size of my palm. Small. Other times I take disparate lines
and cut them up and spread them over a table and then see which ones
"like" each other. I gather while researching too, writing down
sections, citations, and then coming back to them. I also use form rigorously.
I will take small sections of loose writing and then work them into a triolet,
say, or a sonnet, ghazal, hoku. And once I see the forms arising, I will
replicate them into sections. I constructed Instead of Dying in this
manner: two sections of palm-sized prose poems, two sections of mirror-poems,
two sections of disparate lines from my secret poetry Twitter account and
one section of science poems.
5 - Are public
readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of
writer who enjoys doing readings?
I love doing readings, but I hate flying. So it is a constant
battle of trying to set them up, and then steeling myself for the trip. Why
don't we have a better train system in the states? Seriously. Trains would
solve this.
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?
Mostly the question I am trying to answer is this: what in the
world is going on?! I mean, like, seriously, what is happening? We are on this
planet, in the middle of ... what? And we are "people" with "our
selves" which are just small collections of sensory input, curated by a
tiny body structure, limited by space, which will eventually deteriorate into
soil. Sometimes it barely seems real. WHAT IN THE WORLD IS HAPPENING? What
is this all? I don't know. So, I will keep writing and writing until I figure
it out.
Also, I constantly have more embodied questions, like: what are my
responsibilities as a white writer right now? A non-binary writer? How can I
approach privilege and race in my work? How can I approach uncomfortable
questions, listen actively and move closer to clarity?
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?
Poetry is code, and code is valuable, especially in times of
political crisis, especially in times of reduced clarity. Poetry is a way to
express truth through subliminal messages, with nuance that subverts defenses.
When people's minds are closed, poetic language can get through. It is complex
enough to inhabit all of the complicated and mucky layers of pride and ego and
fear. It is a way to wake people up.
And really, at the heart of so much of the current hatred and
bigotry in our culture is the fear of death. Death is where poetry resides, so
it is uniquely qualified to help.
Also, writers tell the stories that make up our being. They shape
consciousness. In this way, they are as essential as scientists and clerics.
8 - Do you find the
process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I love working with editors! I've had two amazing editors in my
career so far: Caryl Pagel for Calenday and
Stephanie G'Schwind for Instead of
Dying. They are both geniuses. And they both made it feel
collaborative, like teamwork. I'm a big fan of teamwork! Also, I am always
questioning my own work, and these editors provided the interaction and
feedback I needed to fully trust in the quality of the poetry. When things need
to be fixed, they were on it. I liked how they didn't hold back.
9 - What is the
best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
Robyn Schiff was my first poetry teacher in undergrad, and she
suggested I write poems with camera angles in mind, as though I were directing
a film. Try it: it's magical. And when John McPhee came to speak in Iowa City a
while ago, he told us that he wrote for a certain amount of time each day, and
would drop the pen when the timer went off. It wasn't much time, maybe two
hours? And that guy has A LOT of books. Which implied to me: it all adds
up.
10 - How easy has
it been for you to move between genres (poetry to painting)? What do you see as
the appeal?
I tend to compartmentalize. When I am in writing mode, writing is
all I am doing – I carry a dorky file folder around with all my notes and
drafts in it, and I take it out in doctor's offices and restaurants and on the
bus, and I write between dinner and bedtime and any extra moments. I tinker and
putz and fix and edit. This could go on for months. And then something will
shift, and I just CAN'T write anymore, writing is AWFUL, I will never write
again! And so I paint, and draw, and sketch at the kitchen table, and also scan
sketches and do tons of Photoshop and Illustrator. The two modes rarely
mix.
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?
My day begins at 6:30am when I have to get my main project – my
child project – up and going. I make sure the 7yo is fed, dressed and on
the school bus. Then I head to my day job, where I write code and build
websites. I use a timer system in all my work, kind of like the Pomodoro
technique, to make sure I'm productive: 50 minute work blocks, with 10 minute
breaks. Inside of all this, I am constantly looking for bits of time to do
creative work. Maybe I edit a poem at lunch. Maybe I sketch a field on the way
home. And then once every few months, I'll block off full days to bring it all
together. Maybe it is a weekend. Or maybe I go away to finish – there is this
kind of eco-universalist Franciscan retreat center up in Cedar Rapids (45 min
north of Iowa City) where you can get a room and three meals a day for $65.
This is where I've finished both of my books. I go up there with all the loose
creations -- poems and notes that I've been accumulating in the small bits of
time – and hopefully, three days later, I have a working manuscript.
12 - When your
writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better
word) inspiration?
I love research. Either primary research or field research
will do it for me. Especially museum language – placards, display cards, event
descriptions, timelines. I love that kind of stuff, and it always gets me
writing again.
13 - What fragrance
reminds you of home?
The smell of wet leaves. Boxwood. Certain types of underarm
deodorant. There was a brand of deodorant called "Teen Spirit" when I
was in middle school, and anything that smells like that takes me back. Do they
still make "Teen Spirit"? If any of your readers know, please give me
a heads up.
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?
Coding and computer languages really influence my work. The
languages and terms of programming are gorgeous. Bytes, unicode, cascading
style sheets, bash, explode, all these lovely terms. I mean, we created these
machines, these computers, with our own minds, so they are aligned with the
thought-processes of humans, which is in turn aligned with language. Language
effects how we think, and how we think effects how we program and code – so it
follows that computing is a blossoming of linguistics. And learning a new
coding language is basically like learning how someone else thinks. Isn't that
a definition of writing too, especially poetry?
15 - What other
writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of
your work?
This is a crazy question to try to answer! Whew. I mean, there are
so many writers that nourish me on a daily basis. I feel nervous trying to even
list a few? Since there are so many, I will try to list some, maybe: Kiki Petrosino, Shane McCrae, Charles Wright, Eve Ewing, Ko Un, Heather Christle,
Suzanne Buffam, Saeed Jones, Susan Howe, Wallace Stevens, Tomaž Šalamun,
William Butler Yeats, Zach Savich, Holly Amos, Claudia Rankine, Apollinaire ...
I mean, I can't. Names keep coming to mind. And that's just the poets. I read
so much fiction too, and nonfiction. I read just about everything. There are
people making important work everywhere.
16 - What would you
like to do that you haven't yet done?
I'd like to shear sheep and gather the wool and then spin the wool
into yarn. I don't knit, so I'd hand it off from there. I'd like to have a
dog help me in the field where the sheep are, and the dog would help me herd
the sheep, maybe up and down some hills, through a bit of forest. I'd also like
to see Japan + Machu Picchu + Venice + Switzerland. I haven't traveled much
(see: fear of flying.)
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?
Yes! So to expand on the last question, I'd have some sheep! I'd
be a "shepherd" right? Would that be what it's called? I'd have a dog
and we would head out in the morning to take the flock to graze, and we would
walk over pastures and rocky terrain and through bits of trees, and then in the
season for shearing, I would shear them. And we'd sell the wool? That sounds
legitimate, right? I'm not out of my mind here, am I? I'd get to wear
boots all day, and be muddy and walk through the drizzle, and my dog would be
named Sebastian, and we'd build a fire at night. And obviously ... I don't know
enough about this to actually do it. That's probably why I am a writer instead.
18 - What made you
write, as opposed to doing something else?
I mean, I've tried several other things, and I still create in
other ways, but I keep coming back to writing. Maybe it is because I enjoy
language and I like to talk to people? And writing is a refined form of
talking. Also, I think so much about language is funny, silly and joyous.
Probably most of all, I love hanging out with writers – they tend to
"play" well with their imaginations, so conversations quickly become
abstract and odd. There is deep pleasure in that.
19 - What was the
last great book you read? What was the last great film?
I am reading Leslie Marmon Silko's Almanac of the Dead again. She wrote this tome back in 1990, I
think, but it eerily feels like a manual for our current times. She writes in a
very gritty way within the Native American tradition, so you have this
beautiful folklore mixed with cocaine dealers and handguns and guarded concrete
compounds. It is fascinating and terrifying. I feel like I'm reading some sort
of survival guide. She is a visionary.
20 - What are you
currently working on?
I've been working on this collection of poetry called Team Photograph for 18 years. I am
still working on it. It involves a mashup of poetry and research about
hallucinations, soccer, the First Battle of Bull Run, ghosts and hypnagogia. So
yes. My next step is to add a graphic novel component to it – weaving in
poetry comics – I am working on those drawings right now.
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