Rajinderpal S. Pal is a critically acclaimed writer and stage performer. He is the author of two collections of award-winning poetry, pappaji wrote poetry in a language i cannot read and pulse. Born in India and raised in Great Britain, Pal has lived in many cities across North America and now resides in Toronto. However Far Away is his first novel.
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, pappaji wrote poetry in a language i cannot read, was released in 1998 by TSAR. The attention that this poetry collection received completely exceeded my expectations. As well as winning the Writers Guild of Alberta award for Best First Book, the publication received a couple of mentions in the Globe and Mail and allowed me to do readings across the country. I have been working on a New, Unpublished and Selected collection, working title The Lesser Shame. I really wish I knew then, at the time of writing my earlier poems, what I know now about craft and structure. Writing and editing my debut novel, However Far Away, I have gained a discipline and rigour which has previously eluded me. In some ways, I am covering similar ground to what I covered in my two published poetry collections (themes of family and tradition, love and commitment) but the novel feels very different in terms of scope and reach.
2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
My father was a published and much-admired poet, and poetry readings were a regular occurrence in my childhood home. He wrote in Punjabi and Urdu, both languages that I do not read or write. My father was only in my life for a short time before he died of a heart attack. I was ten at the time. In my late twenties I was desperate to understand my father: his life as a soldier, a headmaster, a poet, what led him to move our family across continents, why he wrote, and what he wrote. Poetry seemed to be the natural medium to examine this man and try to understand my relationship to him.
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’ll speak to my novel, However Far Away. In June 2005 I was sitting on a bench in Kitsilano Park. It was a beautiful sunny day, the beach, the ocean, the North Shore Mountains in full view. As I sat and surveyed all the activity around me a determined looking South Asian man, approximately my age, ran past me. I immediately began to wonder what this man might be running from or running toward. That afternoon, at the dining table of my basement apartment I wrote seven pages of prose; an opening scene for what I imagined would be a novella. At that time, I was primarily a poet. I was not one for spontaneous writing. For the next twelve years, immersed in my career in healthcare sales and marketing, I wrote very little. Occasionally, I would open the Word file for Settle (the working title for However Far Away) and write a line, a paragraph or a scene but there was no substantial progress. In late 2018 I was retired out of my career and had to admit I had run out of excuses to not tackle this larger project. I completed dozens of drafts before it was even submitted to House of Anansi Press. The finer edits, however, were only completed once they had agreed to publish the book. The final shape only became clear after my editor and I had reduced the manuscript from 130,000 words to 90,000 words.
4 - Where does a poem or work of fiction 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?
For poetry I write individual pieces without a larger project in mind. For fiction I always had a larger project in mind, though just how large the project became is a surprise.
5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
Public readings are critical to the creative process for both poetry and fiction. Perhaps that is from growing up in a house where poetry was frequently read out loud. For me, both poetry and fiction have to work on the page and when spoken out loud.
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?
I write fiction for the same reasons that I write poetry—as a way to understand, to come to terms with, to uncover a nugget of truth, to seek (or, dare I say, create) beauty and meaning, and perhaps enlighten myself.
7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
I believe that there will always be a thirst for storytelling and meaning, that the rumours of the death of poetry and fiction are much exaggerated. For sure new technologies like AI will have some impact but we will continue to create and search for meaning through literature, whether through a concrete poem, a ghazal, or a long work of fiction.
8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
Essential. I wish I had worked more closely with an editor for my two books of poetry.
9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
Before I published my first book, Nicole Markotic said to me, “You need an editor who could tell you to remove your favourite line in a poem in progress and you will consider it.” Those are not Nicole’s exact words, but the sentiment has stayed with me for over twenty-five years. The word “consider” is the most critical word in that advice; you do not have to eliminate that line but you should question what purpose it might be serving in the poem and whether it is necessary. The final decision is always yours.
10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to fiction)? What do you see as the appeal?
If writing a poem is the bull’s eye, then writing a novel is the entire bull, its lineage, its character, and what it ate today. You need to choose the form based on what it is that you are trying to understand, to come to terms with, or uncover.
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?
During the most intense periods of writing However Far Away I had a strict daily schedule; three hours of writing each morning, two hours of writing and one hour of editing each afternoon. Most days I exceeded the scheduled number of hours, but it was okay if there was an occasional day when I failed. I took evenings off since I am a social being and needed the nourishment that good conversation provided. I am looking forward to the time that my next project will require me to get back to a similar routine.
12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
There is a list of books, films and music albums that always inspire me to create. That list continues to shift and grow. It’s a long list, but some of the writers that I turn to are Michael Ondaatje, Robert Hass, Jorie Graham, Hanif Kureishi and, more recently, Sally Rooney and Anna Burns. I would occasionally revisit the film The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, especially for the two scenes that I consider to be the most emotionally wrought ever put on film. If nothing else works a bit of travel and long exploratory walks seem to help.
13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
An Indian spice mix tempering in a pan.
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?
All of the above. I am as influenced and inspired to create art by film, theatre, contemporary dance, and music, as I am by books. If I am writing, I need to be actively engaged in other arts. I will carry a small notebook with me everywhere I go and often write lines that will later make their way into a poem or a work of fiction. These lines might be inspired by anything from a work of art to psithurism to a beautiful horizon to overheard conversation.
15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
If a book really strikes me, I will read it multiple times. There were a few books that were constant companions during the most productive periods of writing However Far Away: The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes, Milkman by Anna Burns, Intimacy by Hanif Kureishi, All About Love by Bell Hooks.
16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
I have an idea to create and produce a performance piece for stage incorporating poetry, music and film; something that could be performed at Fringe festivals as well as at literary festivals.
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?
I had a thirty-year career in sales and marketing in the healthcare industry. When I was retired out of that career in 2018, I was able to fully focus on completing However Far Away. In the future, I would like to facilitate creative writing workshops—poetry and fiction—but have no desire to be a full-time instructor. Other than that, I just want to create and stay healthy.
18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
Standing beside an upstairs banister listening to emotional and powerful recitals floating up from the gathering of poets in the downstairs front-room.
19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
Book: Soldiers, Hunters, Not Cowboys by Aaron Tucker. Film: Past Lives written and directed by Celine Song.
20 - What are you currently working on?
As well as the new and selected poetry collection, I am mapping out two possible works of fiction.
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