Lesley Trites is the author of the story collection A Three-Tiered Pastel Dream (May 2017) and the poetry collection echoic mimic. Her fiction and non-fiction have
recently appeared in carte blanche, Tupelo Quarterly, The Los Angeles Review of
Books,
and Maisonneuve. Winner of the 2016 3Macs carte blanche Prize, she lives in Montreal.
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 was a book of poetry, and to tell you the truth I don’t think it
changed my life. I still felt like an imposter. But somehow writing my new
book, my fiction debut, gave me permission to start thinking of myself as a
writer, and I began to feel part of a larger community. At a superficial level,
the main way my recent work is different from my previous is that it keeps
getting longer: I’ve moved from poetry to short stories, and am now working on
a novel.
2 - How did you come to
poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I’ve
loved fiction since I was old enough to read, but when I started writing in my
teens and discovered poets like Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton, poetry is what
came most naturally. I thought in image and metaphor, and I wasn’t able to
sustain narrative at that point. This continued through my twenties, when I
read and wrote a lot of poetry. After many failed attempts at writing fiction,
something finally clicked when I was in my early thirties, and now I think of
myself as primarily a fiction writer.
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?
Sometimes
the first draft comes quickly, but more often it’s a slow and painful process.
And no, the first drafts do not resemble the final shape at all. I love the
process of revision, of rewriting and layering in new details. I like tinkering
at the sentence level. I do make copious notes, especially for longer projects.
I love research, though I have to curb the tendency to spend too much time on
research as a form of procrastination. I use Evernote to make short notes or
save ideas, fragments, and sources of inspiration.
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?
A
character, an image, a poetic line or scrap of dialogue, an idea, a feeling.
Something overheard or observed while out in the world, or something I read in
the news. These days I’m usually interested in writing something book-length
from the start.
5 - Are public readings part
of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys
doing readings?
I
do really enjoy doing public readings, though that’s a fairly recent
phenomenon. They used to terrify me. But if you’re lucky some other force takes
over once the nerves settle down, and it can be kind of magical. I also read my
work out loud when I’m alone as part of the revision process, and it helps me
think through a piece.
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?
Yes,
I have theoretical concerns. When it comes to fiction, though, those concerns
usually work themselves in at a subconscious level, and I’m only able to
articulate them after I have a draft. The protagonists in my collection are all
women, and I was interested in the narratives these characters create for their
own lives, and how adhering to or breaking with what they see as the traditional
gender roles assigned to them affects those narratives. I was interested in
ambivalence and uncertainty, especially surrounding motherhood and
relationships. I was also interested in silence, and the repercussions of
reserved family environments where many things are repressed and go unsaid.
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?
I
do think writers have a role to play in culture at large, but what that role is
will depend on the writer. Broadly — To listen. To pay attention. To be
curious. To interrogate and investigate and ask hard questions, and to find a
way to articulate what seems unspeakable. To educate and entertain.
8 - Do you find the process
of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
Essential.
Working with an editor on the stories in my collection caused me to push my
work in ways I’m not sure it would have developed otherwise. Finding an editor
who will give you a healthy balance of encouragement and constructive criticism
is so important.
9 - What is the best piece
of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
“The
Internet is nothing like a cigarette break.” – Dani Shapiro
10 - How easy has it been
for you to move between genres (poetry to fiction to non-fiction)? What do you
see as the appeal?
For
me it happened pretty organically, and slowly. I think my poetry background
informs the way I approach fiction. For me, moving from poetry to short stories
made sense; both forms necessitate a certain amount of restraint. Each word, or
each sentence, needs a reason for being there. Now I’m trying to learn to think
and write like a novelist, after being in short story mode for so long. I’m
learning to expand rather than compress. I would love to write more
non-fiction, but so far it’s a genre I’ve only dabbled in.
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?
For
the last while I’ve had the great luxury of time, so I usually have breakfast
and read for a while, and then sit down at my computer with a cup of coffee or
tea. I have a daily writing goal—some days I exceed it easily, other days it’s
such a struggle. One tip I picked up recently is to keep track of my daily word
count on a calendar above my desk. That’s not to suggest that quantity matters
over quality; it’s just a way of keeping myself motivated, brokering little
daily deals with myself.
That
said, I’m about to start a new contract where I’ll be working 9-5, temporarily
at least, which will upend this routine. I have this fantasy that the imposed
structure will force me to be more productive with my time.
12 - When your writing gets
stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word)
inspiration?
Books.
Always books. Or, if I’m actually in the middle of a writing session, I’ll
sometimes pick up a literary journal, whatever I have on hand (The Paris Review is a favourite, as is The New Quarterly) and read until I feel
inspired again. Sometimes I’ll try to free write by picking a phrase at random
from the nearest book. Sometimes I'll listen to an interview with a writer. If
none of that works, I'll go for a walk or to the gym or do yoga.
13 - What fragrance reminds
you of home?
Popcorn,
freshly popped in oil on a stovetop, reminds me of my childhood home.
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?
Film.
One of the stories in my collection was inspired by a short scene in a film.
Nature, in that the landscape of my childhood (swampland, river water, wild
animals, fiddleheads, birches and weeping willows) has influenced my writing.
Travel.
15 - What other writers or
writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
I
read a lot of short stories while writing my collection. Some short story
writers whose work has been important to me include Lorrie Moore, Lisa Moore,
Amy Hempel, Deborah Eisenberg, Lydia Davis, Ottessa Moshfegh, Kathleen Winter,
Grace Paley, George Saunders, and Lynn Coady. And so many more. I’m also lucky
to have a number of friends who are writers, and they are hugely important to
my work and my life. Having a supportive community is what allows me to keep
writing.
16 - What would you like to
do that you haven't yet done?
I’d
like to translate a novel, and finish a novel of my own. See icebergs in
Newfoundland. Learn to scuba dive so I can see the vast underwater world.
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
would love to have been an investigative journalist who travels abroad to
report important stories. But that’s still writing, of course. I narrowly
escaped becoming a computer programmer.
18 - What made you write, as
opposed to doing something else?
I
love books. And words. And sitting alone in a room for long periods of time,
existing in a dream state. I’m more comfortable in my mind than in my physical
body.
19 - What was the last great
book you read? What was the last great film?
The
last great book I read was Beloved, by Toni Morrison. I have
no idea why it took me this long to read it.
The
last great film was Cléo from 5 to 7, an Agnès Varda film from 1962 (so old I had to borrow the
DVD from the library instead of stream it). Paris, French feminism and
existential despair. It opens with a tarot reading. It’s 55 years old, yet
still felt surprisingly relevant.
20 - What are you currently
working on?
A novel, my
first. The main character is an aspiring documentary filmmaker.
