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 will always be a reminder to myself that what I have to say matters to someone out in the universe. When I started writing poetry, my wildest dream was that a press would actually take my ridiculous poems about sentient sexy potatoes, Prince, and Predator seriously. I am still amazed that my poems find readers and now that I have a second book out, I am constantly pinching myself that this is my reality. After I finished my first book, American Radiance, which is largely about my family, I promised myself I would move on and write about a new topic. My second book, I Make Jokes When I’m Devastated, is even more focused on my family. I realized that I’m essentially going to write the same book over and over again, because every poem about my grandmother is ultimately a poem about the moon, and everyone knows how poets feel about the moon.
2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I am drawn to poetry for the privacy. Most of the time, I feel naked writing in prose, and while I love reading novels and essays, I need the distance that the lyric provides, or to put it less poetically, I want to keep my top on.
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?
Writing is a long process for me. I think of my brain as a crock pot that I’m constantly shoving images into. Eventually, I pull images out after a few hours of staring at my computer screen. A final draft often looks nothing like the original version of that poem, and that’s typically because I don’t have a clear idea of where the poem needs to go. Occasionally, I’ll tell myself “I’m going to write a love poem that starts with prunes,” but that’s about as much direction as I tend to give myself.
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?
Poems often begin for me with images. I’ll see a bursting peony bush and immediately think, “obviously I’ll be writing about you later,” and continue on my day. I am rarely a writer who works on “projects” and mostly just assembles manuscripts slowly over time. I obsessively write about ten different things over and over again, and eventually those poems become a book.
5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I adore attending readings. I often think of them as a place of tremendous inspiration, and I often feel energized when they are over. For me, there is something magical about hearing poetry read out loud by friends or poets whose work I am not familiar with.
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?
My concerns are endless. I have a thousand answers for “what do poems actually do?” but none of them feel like the right one. As a poet who often writes about war in my birthplace, I think about this question often.
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 generally avoid prescribing what the role of a writer should be. As a teacher of young writers, I see firsthand the tremendous impact that poems have for helping people understand themselves, and also for understanding others. To me, empathy and poetry are connected in a way that is essential. I teach “Try to Praise the Mutilated World” by Adam Zagajewski every year because that poem saved my life; I don’t know what role that gives me as a writer. Mostly, I’m not that different than a person handing out pamphlets on the street. I’m giving you something that has transformed the way I see the world, Maybe you’ll remember a line from this poem when you need it, maybe you’ll immediately throw it into the recycling bin.
8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I have been lucky to work with some really generous editors throughout the years. For individual poems, I really only share them with a handful of friends and mostly as proof that I am still living. When I am struggling with a poem, I find that sharing drafts with a friend I trust is tremendously helpful. I worked with Katie Condon on my last book and she was essential in helping me iron out some poems that I had over-edited when I was putting my manuscript together. Since Katie understood my work, she was able to provide some suggestions for not only how to make the poems better but how to shape them towards what I wanted them to be.
9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
The best way to learn about writing is by reading as much as possible.
10 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?
Admittedly, I am on the “parent of three young children” routine which means I’m often writing poems on my phone in between hockey practices, in a school pickup line, or during my lunch break between classes I teach.
11 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
Stanley Kunitz reading “Touch Me” will likely bring me back to earth for a few seconds after I’ve died. When he leans into the microphone and says “remind me who I am” at the end of the poem I gasp every single time.
12 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Home is a complicated idea for me as I came to this country as a refugee when I was a child. What reminds me of Odesa? The smell of meat section in the Pryvoz market or the peonies that grew outside of our apartment building. What reminds me of Kansas City? The smell of bbq and the park after it rains. My current house smells like mint leaves from tea I make throughout the day, scented markers in my children’s playroom, or the absolutely horrific scent of unwashed adolescent hockey gear that lives in my garage.
13 - 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?
I am moved by visual art and often begin writing poems in my head as I walk through museums or galleries.
14 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
Gerald Stern is a poet that will always pull me out of whatever writing hole I find myself in. I also have a deep love for Marina Tsvetaeva, Wisława Szymborska, Robin Coste Lewis, Kathleen Peirce, Mahmoud Darwish, Ross Gay, Stanley Kunitz, Adam Zagajewski, Anna Akhmatova, Ada Limon, Tiana Clark, Ilya Kaminsky, Ruth Stone, Matthew Olzmann, Li-Young Lee, Safiya Sinclair, and so many others.
15 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
I’d love to write a children’s book length poem. I promised my oldest child that this would be our summer project.
16 - 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?
This might be too close to the same wheelhouse as writing but I think I would be a very good namer of things. I want to be whoever is in charge of naming nail polish colors, newly invented cheeses, flavors of candy, or recently discovered insects. Are you a beverage company who doesn’t know what to call your strangely hued newest creation? Allow me to be drunk with power and name that juice.
17 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
For a long time writing was the thing that I saved for myself as a reward for doing all of the other things I had to do throughout the day. Eventually, I got tired of putting my joy Last.
18 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
I just finished Traci Brimhall’s Love Prodigal and I recommend everyone with a beating heart buy this incredible book. I also saw Sinners last night and it was brilliant.
19 - What are you currently working on?
I typically allow myself to go through a quiet phase after I have a book come out. I am currently working on getting back to writing poems more frequently.
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