Showing posts with label Bayeux Arts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bayeux Arts. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 20, 2026

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Barbara Sibbald

Barbara Sibbald [photo credit: Curtis Perry] is an award-winning journalist and author of five works of fiction. Almost English (Bayeux Arts, 2025) is a historical novel based on her Eurasian great-grandparents in India. Her short-fiction collection, The Museum of Possibilities (The Porcupine’s Quill), won a gold Foreword Indies Award and silver eLit. Her novel, Regarding Wanda (Bunkhouse Press), was short-listed for the Ottawa Book Award, and The Book of Love: Guidance in Affairs of the Heart (General Store Publishing House) was favourably reviewed. Kitchen Chronicles (Ottawa Magazine 2013/14) is an online novel told in 52 installments (now posted at www.barbarasibbald.com).When she’s not writing, she’s gardening. Barbara lives in a hidden in-fill house in downtown Ottawa with her husband, the visual artist Stuart Kinmond. 

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

As I held my first book of fiction I felt I had arrived. Pay-off after all those years of toiling in obscurity (aside from a few stories published in literary journals). That novel, Regarding Wanda, was a bildungsroman, heavily based on my experiences growing up in a military family, my overbearing father, my work as a small-town journalist and an eye impairment I developed in my early 30s. Aside from that it’s all made up! My most recent work, Almost English, is the result of years of research into the British Raj and my great-grandparents. Stephen Turner was a quarter Indian, but to the late 19th century Raj he was wholly native: underpaid, underemployed and mocked. Nevertheless, Stephen and his wife Lily Turner never wavered in their struggle to belong to the British establishment in Northern India from 1885 to 1912. This is the story of their quest, their frequent disappointments and their enduring love. It’s also my story. I break the fourth wall as the novel unfolds to recount my parallel search for community. This genre-bending work, which includes family photographs, paintings and sketches, brings a fresh perspective to this era. This structure, a melange of historic fiction and autobiography felt necessary, and I think the story is much richer as a result. It was also risky; publishers were wary

There has been a progression in my work from essentially auto-fiction, to heavily researched historic fiction interspersed with short non-fiction essays that riff on the fictional text. It’s more experimental.

2 - How did you come to fiction first, as opposed to, say, poetry or non-fiction?

Actually, I came to journalism first. I wanted to write short stories (poetry being somewhat mysterious to me) but knew I had to make a living, so I studied journalism at Carleton University and made my living for decades as a journalist, but only ever 4 days a week. Day 5 was always for fiction writing.

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?

Starting, getting that initial idea, comes quickly. The first draft often does as well. But then I edit endlessly, producing one version after another, second-guessing, fine tuning. I also rely on feedback from my writing group and other literary friends. The process works, but it is time consuming.

4 - Where does a work of prose 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?

Regarding Wanda began as a series of short stories. I had envisioned it as a story cycle, a structure that I enjoy reading (think Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town), wherein the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. But then I showed it to Audrey Thomas, my mentor at the Banff School of Writing back in the day and she said it was a novel. And so it was.  It didn’t require much to weave the stories together. Since then, my novels have always started as a larger work. I still write short fiction, but it’s destined to stay as such; I feel no compunction to expand on those works.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

 It took me a while to get used to public readings; I was just so nervous. I’m not now, and I enjoy reading my stories aloud to an audience. Reading aloud is definitely part of the writing process as well; a story has to sound right!

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 work revolves around notions of belonging, whether to a community, a “significant” other, a family or a group of friends. I grew up as an itinerant air force brat moving every 3 or 4 years. This left me without roots, or a place. In different ways, each of my books deals with this central issue.

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?

Writers allow readers to take deep emotional dives (as opposed to the superficial dog paddling on the web) into relevant topics. The best writers bring fresh perspectives, well-researched information with emotional resonance, and perhaps a glimpse of the past and future. Given climate change, I think the role of the writer should be provocateur and soothsayer.

8 – Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

Editors are essential. Full stop. I always save up so I can hire one, and I believe this has helped me get published. It also helps me make the work as good as it can be. Best to get the heavy lifting out of the way before approaching publishing houses (some of which go very light on the editing).

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

Virginia Woolf said: “So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say.”

This is the key to inspiration; you have to care about what you write.

10 – How easy has it been for you to move between genres (short stories to journalism to the novel)? What do you see as the appeal?

Journalism, at its heart, is story telling. I enjoy writing profiles and these in particular allow scope for telling people’s stories. Moving from that to short stories was really not a stretch at all. And then, I wove those stories into my first novel. So, the whole trajectory had a rather natural progression.

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?

When I was enmeshed in researching and writing Almost English, I was hard at it from early a.m. until mid afternoon or later. But since completing that, I’ve concentrated on publishing it and been less rigorous about my creative writing. I usually manage two or three mornings a week on fiction. BUT I do read and write poetry first thing every morning. And I have grand plans for the new year; hoping to write fiction five mornings a week (no email or scrolling till noon seems a good starting point).

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

I turn to books I know I love (Woolf or Ondaatje for example) or new authors who have been recommended. I also dip into old how-to favs like Anne Lamont’s bird by bird.

And sometimes, I go to the art gallery and spend times with pictorial pals.

13 – What fragrance reminds you of home?

Pledge wood cleaner. My mom was a compulsive cleaner. I am not.

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?

Gardening is profoundly influential. For me, the zen like space gardening creates in my life allows my mind to trip off in new directions. It helps to get my hands dirty too!

I also find walking, especially in a forest, is very conducive to imaginative trolling. My therapist recommends spending an hour, three days a week, in nature. I aim for that.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

There’s a long list, but here are a few: Sigrid Nunez, Hilary Mantel, Ian McEwan, Julian Barnes, Alice Munro (I know, but her writing is stellar), etc. etc.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

Publish a chap book of poetry. I came to poetry during COVID and found I loved it. I now write a poem nearly every day. Most matter (to me) for mere minutes, but some have potential.

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?

Landscape architecture holds great appeal. I love working with plants and I love to design. I suppose I would end up writing about it too!

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

I knew when I was 12 that I wanted to be a writer. I wrote poems, a play and wee stories back then. I just loved this act of creation: imaginative and so enjoyable. I never even considered doing anything else!

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

The vulnerables, Sigrid Nunez: understated but so astute and the writing zings. I adore her work.  

The room next door Dir. Pedro Almodovar. Starring Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore. An adaptation of Sigrid Nunez’s novel What are you going through. Deep and dark, about end of life, about the degradation of the earth and depression. A thought jarring film.

20 - What are you currently working on?

Marketing my new historic novel, Almost English, seems to take up most of my time, but I will soon get to more creative work. I want to delve into my poetry drafts to find some pearls (I hope) and craft them into something fuller. I also have a half-dozen short stories finished for a new collection. Maybe. And I’m considering writing a novel that somehow melds gardening with historic fiction. TBD.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

Friday, August 09, 2024

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Tāriq Malik

Tāriq Malik has worked across poetry, fiction, and art for the past four decades to distill immersive and compelling narratives that are always original. He writes intensely in response to the world in flux around him and from his place in its shadows. His published works, including Rainsongs of Kotli(TSAR Publications, short stories, 2004), Chanting Denied Shores (Bayeux Arts, novel, 2010),and now his poetry in Exit Wounds (Caitlin Press, Poetry, 2022) and Blood of Stone (Caitlin Press, Poetry, 2024), challenge entanglements in the barbed wires of racism and cultural stereotyping in art, the workplace and across societies.

Tāriq Malik is the current Writer-in-Residence at the Polyglot Magazine and a former Writer-in-Residence (July 2023) at the Historic Joy Kogawa House and has offered Poetry Master Classes at various locations.   

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 published book, Rainsongs of Kotli, was a compilation of loosely interwoven short stories set in the backwaters of Pakistani Punjab. It was challenging to describe the work and situate it for potential publishers. I received several very negative responses. Eventually, Rainsongs of Kotli was published by Toronto-based TSAR Publications in 2004, and that gave me confidence in my creative voice.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?

Rainsongs of Kotli, my first published work, began as a long poem that evolved into a historical fiction. However, I retained a few original poetic sections and transformed them into prose. 

My next book was based on the Komagata Maru saga, Chanting Denied Shores. In it, I included a handful of poems to vivify the narrative and serve as an itinerant poet's voice.

I ventured wholly into poetry for my third and fourth books, Exit Wounds and Blood of Stone. By then, I had some confidence in my poetic voice and was now less concerned about how these works would be received. I am glad I was able to make the transition to poetry and find my readers.

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 write almost daily, relying on my biphasic sleep patterns, and putting work together to submit is very often slow and laborious. While immersed in this lonely process, I feel empowered and sustained by the writing's drive, passion, and truth. At no point do I consider the reader's response to my narrative my sole concern, as this often gets in the way of the writing. If I do my task well enough, the reader will find my writing accessible and then willingly take the journey with me.

I tend to overwrite, hence there are several drafts, from which I later distill the work to its bare essence before the final submission.

4 - Where does a poem or work of prose 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?

Since my natural state as a poet is ekphrastic, I usually begin with a scene or an image. A piece of dialogue may inspire me to move onto the page and put down my personal take or view of the situation. The writing then dribbles in and is worked into a coherent whole (or incoherent whole, if I am deliberately risking obscurity). For me, the volta is often as compelling a section of the poem as the point of the reader's entry into it, even more so.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I enjoy public readings immensely as the writer's voice introduces a nuance that the written word does not always convey. I also find that there is a significant challenge in reading concrete poems where the visual aspect of the phrase is a vital part of the work. However, given the subjective nature of my writing and its narrow focus on unfamiliar themes, I am rarely offered opportunities to read my own work.  

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 try to amplify a personal experience and viewpoint and attempt to vivify these for the reader.

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?

One of the roles of the writer in our culture is to engage with the social areas of concern/friction/intersection that are often outside the readers' sphere and then to elucidate these emotional and intellectual experiences in an engaging, enlightening, and entertaining manner.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

I have not yet had the fortune to work substantially with any editor for my fiction.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

Be true to your art even if it does not find fertile soil to land on and flourish.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to short stories to the novel)? What do you see as the appeal?

My fiction is heavily laced with my poetics. My poetry is mostly concrete and narrative based.

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 writing day begins at around 4am.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

Look for inspiration in writing I admire, primarily Urdu poet Faiz Ahmad Faiz for his rhythms. Lately, I am returning for inspiration in the poetry of Valzhyna Mort, Andrea Cohen, Laura Ritland, Tolu Oloruntoba, et al.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

Petrichor, in other words, Blood of Stone.

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?

Nature, science, and visual arts are all inspirational for me. I am excited to be working on a poetry chapbook on the wisdom of trees, another inspired by ravens.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

Robert Macfarlane (any of his multi-faceted writing), Pankaj Mishra's From the Ruins of Empire, Loren Eiseley's The Unexpected Universe, E. L. Doctorow's Ragtime. 

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

Write a play or a screenplay, or collaborate on a creative project in this field.

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 have held scores of jobs before turning to writing: Plant chemist, candy factory worker (mercifully only one day), a nightshift at the pillow factory stuffing down feathers (four months), industrial lab chemist (17 years)

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

I did not find any writings that related to my subjective lived experience.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

Colum McCann's awesome Apeirogon.

A favorite TV series: The latest incarnation of The Talented Mr. Ripley (titled simply as Ripley).

20 - What are you currently working on?

I am busy with a poetry book tentatively titled STALAG NOW that explores the global consolidation of influence and wealth in the hands of ever fewer individuals and organizations, often in collusion with the military, and the experiences of the precariat societies living under these conditions.

My next novel, Blood Towers, will present an ant's POV of constructing glass pyramids in the desert sands to fulfill the wet dreams of latter-day pharaohs.

I am also working on a sophomore outing for my short story collection of Rainsongs of Kotli.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Ayesha Chatterjee

Ayesha Chatterjee’s poetry has appeared in journals across the globe and on the official website of Canada’s Parliamentary Poet Laureate, George Elliott Clarke. Her second collection, Bottles and Bones, is new from Bayeux Arts.  She lives in Toronto.

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, The Clarity of Distance, changed everything! Suddenly, I felt that I could confidently call myself a poet, because I had a tangible book in my hot little hands as proof. I could apply for membership at—and was accepted into—the League of Canadian Poets, which was hugely exciting to me. Clarity was also my ticket to reading at IFOA’s 2012 Battle of the Bards at Harbourfront Centre. That was my first ever poetry reading in Canada—how cool is that? Bayeux Arts, the Calgary-based indy press that published Clarity, has also just published my second collection, Bottles and Bones. I feel as though my work has become more expressionistic in the six years since Clarity, a little more abstract, but that could just be me. The lead-up to publication has been a bit terrifying, to be honest. A first collection is pure joy to have out in the world, especially for someone like me, who was a complete unknown in Canada, having arrived in this country just a year before The Clarity of Distance was released, and not having had anything at all published in Canada previously. This time around there are Expectations. Or something. But it’s out now and I’m giddy again with excitement, because now it will take on a life of its own, really.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I’ve been writing poetry since I was about nine years old. It’s the genre I write in most naturally. I’ve tried writing fiction. I wrote a whole novel over five years and found it very painful to write. I only realised why it was so hard to write after I finished it. It was because I’d approached it like poetry, which didn’t work very well in this particular case.

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?
It kind of depends on the poem. Sometimes a poem almost writes itself and other times it takes a few days for it to form. My first drafts ARE my notes. I start with whatever (sometimes rubbishy) thoughts I’ve jotted down on paper and then edit and edit and edit them down. Most of my poems are very short and what you’re seeing is often maybe a third of what I started out with.

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?

It has always begun with a poem. And a poem can begin anywhere, with an image, a line or an idea.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I enjoy being in front of an audience and reading my poems to them, it’s intoxicating. But the lead up is a little scary, like stage fright. Which is a good thing, because it means I always prepare in advance. My creative process isn’t really affected by public readings. In my head the two things are unrelated, almost. I write for an imaginary reading audience (myself, usually, and I’m hyper critical), not a listening audience. What I find difficult is writing in a group, because, invariably, I will write specifically for them, which can be counterproductive, because it’s not always truthful and that’s dangerous. 

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 am embarrassed to say, I have no idea what the current questions are. I’m confused enough as it is.

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?
If I thought my writing might influence culture at large, I wouldn’t be able to write a word, I’d be a complete blank. Speaking only for myself, I write in the hope that my poems will get readers to stop and look at their world differently, even if just for an moment, or will resonate with them in some way. That’s cliché, I know, but it’s the truth. It’s what good poetry does for me and I’d like to give some of that back to the world.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
Both. It’s absolutely essential to work with a good editor in terms of objectivity and to tighten your work, but I sometimes find it very difficult to translate good advice on a working draft into good poetry. Not always, of course, and then it’s magic!

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
“You gotta have a dream, if you don’t have a dream, then how you gonna make a dream come true?” From the South Pacific song ‘Happy Talk’ by Rodgers and Hammerstein.

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?

I write best in the mornings, when my head isn’t yet filled with all the day’s distractions. I try to carve out three mornings a week to write. I’ve got a little writing nook with a secretary desk at right angles to a window that looks out onto our patio so I can see it when I turn my head. I usually start at around 9am after I’ve had breakfast and my second cup of coffee, and I’m there till lunch.

11 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
Music. Especially jazz.

12 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Oh my goodness, what a perfectly timed question! Bottles and Bones is all about fragrance and the sense of smell or lack thereof. And the very last poem in Clarity, called Physics, mentions exactly that—petrichor, the fragrance of rain on dry earth. In India, there’s a perfume distilled to mimic it. It’s been made for thousands of years and is called "mitti attar” or attar of earth.

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 often say that I write poetry because I can’t draw. Visual art is a strong influence as is music. I used to want to write a musical. Maybe I still will someday.

14 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
Emily Dickinson is probably my biggest influence. Also Thomas Hardy, Robert Frost, Jo Shapcott, Elizabeth Bishop, James Joyce, Virginia Woolf, Kamala Das, Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

15 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Write that musical, now that you’ve reminded me.

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?
I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be. Honestly. This is what I’ve wanted my whole life.

17 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
I don’t feel as though I had much choice in the matter. Writing is like an addiction. If there’s a long period of time where I’m not writing, I start to feel increasingly uneasy, even guilty, and writing is what gets me back on an even keel.

18 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

The Romantics by Pankaj Mishra. The South Korean film Poetry, written and directed by Lee Chang-Dong.

19 - What are you currently working on?
Promoting my new collection, Bottles and Bones.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;