12 or 20 questions: with Rhonda Waterfall

Rhonda Waterfall studied creative writing with the Writer’s Studio at Simon Fraser University. Her work has appeared in Geist, Descant, and several other literary journals. She is the author of The Only Thing I Have a collection of short stories published by Arsenal Pulp Press. She currently lives and works in Vancouver.

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

Being that The Only Thing I Have is my first published collection of short stories and that it only came out into the market a month ago, it’s a little too soon to tell how or if my life will change. I’m not expecting any prolific change except now I have more backup when I tell people I’m a writer. Also, my family has some evidence of what I spend my time doing. I think the changes are smaller and more internal. I feel compelled to write on a larger scale with more depth. I think there is a switch in territory happening with my recent work. In The Only Thing I Have I touched on wayward souls making poor choices. There was little growth in the characters personal and emotional development. Now I want to explore someone who goes through a monumental change.

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

There was just a natural bend toward fiction that goes back before memory. Interspersed with times of poetry. Non-fiction, I have attempted but it always felt flat to me. It’s just more fun to make stuff up.

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?


When I look over the stories in The Only Thing I Have, there are some that took years and some that took months. Most of the stories when complete look fairly similar to the initial drafts. I can spend a lot of time tweaking sentences and structure. There are some stories that I wrote a paragraph of then put it away and months later revisit and add another paragraph. Those are the painfully slow ones. The title story The Only Thing I Have was one of those painfully slow stories. I wrote it over two years a paragraph at a time with significant gaps of time between each paragraph. I even dislike it just a bit because of the process. I am a constant editor the only thing that stops me from more editing is publication.

4 - Where does 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?

Fiction begins with a tiny thought. Such as in When You Are Gone I wondered what would happen to a woman who wanted a divorce but her husband wouldn’t give it. Often by the time the story is complete there is no sign of what that original thought may have been, the thought gets written out of the story. With Fatty I was mulling over what happens when obesity and obese people become the latest socially acceptable target for ridicule.

I would like to think that I am working on a book at the beginning but somehow I get sidetracked and write a short story, although my short stories have been getting longer. At first many of my published pieces were 500 to 800 word stories. A novel is still the goal, though.

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

I don’t mind readings and I find they help with motivation. Writing is a lot of time by yourself wrapped up in your own thoughts so it’s great to get the chance to get outside.

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’ve always been mystified by the decisions people make. Often I ask myself, why did that person do that? Much of my writing is about exploring that idea even though I may not get around to answering the question. It turns into more of a character study. The current question still is, why did that person do that? I think this will always be an aspect to my writing.

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?

Sure, fiction writers can capture the thoughts and emotions of a time or event in a way that non-fiction can’t. All our lore and fables are fiction but they explain or provide a guide for life.

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

Essential. Working with an editor is fantastic and can only add to what I’m trying to achieve. I’m curious about their perspective on the writing and where they might find concerns.

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

Just tell the story.

Keep writing.

Keep with the action.

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 when I can. At one time I was able to do an hour of editing and an hour of new work a day… but life has conspired against me so my output has been greatly reduced. I have dreams of getting back to the two hour a day plan.

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


I find movies and other books inspirational.

12 - What do you really want?

To be able to look back and be proud of my accomplishments in writing. Perhaps a few novels.

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?

Visual art is very much an influence. In many of my stories there are references to painting, such as in Little Breaks.

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


If I’m stuck or want to read something quick to give me a bit of a kick-start, I reach for Barbara Gowdy, J.M. Coetzee or Richard Yates.

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

Perhaps a stint as writer in residence or a writing workshop cruise… maybe in the future.

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 still have a day job as a producer in an Ad Agency. If I were a braver individual and didn’t fear a certain level of poverty I would be a potter or painter living off in the bush somewhere. It’s always in the back of my mind. I don’t think people would be surprised if I just disappeared one day into the woods.

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

Writing seemed feasible and within my control. Writing is solely based on the individual and in very few situations involves anyone else.

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

Last great book: The Golden Spruce. There is not a lot of non-fiction that I read but this really is an amazing book.

Last great movie: The Assassination of Jesse James.

19 - What are you currently working on?

What will hopefully become a novel about a girl’s search for her father. Who knows though, at this stage these things are just wishful thoughts.

12 or 20 questions (second series);

12 or 20 questions: with Jacob Scheier

Jacob Scheier is a Toronto born poet and journalist, currently living in New York City. His debut collection of poems, More to Keep us Warm (ECW Press 2007) won the 2008 Governor General's Award and was named amongst last year's 'best in verse' by The Winnipeg Free Press. His poems have been published in several magazine and journals, and aired on CBC radio. He is a regular contributor to Toronto's NOW Magazine and to NYC's The Indypendent.

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 and thus far only book made me realize how little becoming a published author actually changes one's life. It seemed substantially more glamorous before it actually happened to me. Of course, my first book also changed my life a lot since it won the GG and turned me, due to the well publicized controversy around the award, into being or at least feeling like notorious poet (which seems like it ought to be an oxymoron). And even that hasn't really changed my life. So I think if anything my first book made me realize I write more than anything just because I have to. To write poetry, or anything literary for any other reason (than necessity) just strikes me now, more than ever, as pretty absurd.

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

I think I have a short attention span and never really had the patience to write something that can't be finished (in rough draft) in a single sitting. It's also how I experience life - very episodically - and so poetry has also felt like a more accurate expression of my experience of the world.

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 am kind of working on a cohesive writing project now. I thought I had started it about 8 months ago. And only now do I feel it's really started. As far as process goes, I like what Paul Valery said: "a poem is never finished, just abandoned." That sums it up pretty well.

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?

My first book definitely was a series of individual poems that gathered into a collection over time. What will eventually be my next poetry book is a bit more directed, in that the subject matter is more specific, though not much more. I recently realized that my book is about 'place' - that's still pretty general. But for me that's progress - if being more specific is progress. I think poetry strives, or rather I strive for a certain immediately in my poetry and so having end goals is kind of counter to what I am trying to convey in the work. I've realized this the hard way after several frustrating months imposing some fairly stringent goals and ideas about what this collection is specifically 'about.'

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

I enjoy them when they go well. People showing up to the reading is a good start. Laughing at the parts that are suppose to be funny helps too. I have to confess I like the attention of reading in public... most of the time.

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?

Sure. The questions more often reveal themselves as I'm writing. I've been thinking a lot about making poetry politically progressive and how accessibility needs to a part of that. I think it's ironic that some poetry that claims to be rather radical often is fairly inaccessible to those who don't have a higher education, which begs the question radical for whom? On the other hand, there is also quite a lot of overtly political poetry I don't care for because it's lacking a certain artistic depth and emotional poignancy. I don't claim to be writing in the proper middle ground, only that the issue concerns me. I am also really interested in the convergence of the historical, theoretical and personal. For instance, I am researching and writing a lot right now about my grandparents and my parents, who were all communists (my father is the only one still alive) - how their worldview and the historical conditions of the 20th century interacted with the most personal, the most visceral and traumatic moments of their lives.

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 ask myself that a lot. This probably seems like the easy way out of the question, but different writers, particularly writers of different genres, probably have different roles. I think the role of a lot of poets is to give people pause, recall that we are alive now, and for lack of a better word acknowledge that it's all pretty weird. A poem has as much purpose, since it can be very similar, as those rare, truly honest moments between two people (whether silent or in conversation). I don't know why it's important that such moments occur now and again, but it makes me feel better about being alive when they do.

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

I find it challenging, but absolutely essential. My editor, Michael Holmes, really challenged me to cut away the excess, the pre-writing and summarizing - the protective shell I was putting up around my poems. It hurt sometimes, but the finished product of my first book was substantially stronger than the manuscript in its initial draft.

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

"Don't let the bastards get you down."

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

The other genre I write in is journalism, both opinion pieces for NOW magazine and more recently reporting for The Indypendent, a "radical" newspaper in New York City). It's pretty much the furthest thing from a poem I can imagine, particularly the reporting. In many of my poems I allow the "I" to enter the observed subject till it is either dissolved in or perhaps splintered by it. In the reporting I have to stand outside 'the story' as much as possible. The poetry seems more honest, less contrived. It's a hard transition for me and when I am in journalist mode I have a hard time getting into a state of being compatible with the poetry writing. The appeal I think is writing something so different from what I am comfortable with, and in the process becoming different. I think writing in different genres adds layers to the personality, if not the for lack of a better word, the soul. This more recent move into journalism in being so external versus the internal world of the poetry, offers me a kind of balance in how I approach my lived reality, which is probably a good thing.

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?

Unlike every other part of my life, I am pretty regimented about this: Two hours first thing in the morning. Sometimes other projects or life in general prevents this - but most of the time that's what I'm doing. I also don't go back to the same poem, as a general rule, for at least a week after I've written it (though sometimes I cheat).

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

I don't really have a plan around that. I pace. I drink. I wait for the season to change.

13 - What fairy tale character do you resonate with most?

It's not really a fairy tale, but a fable - I think it's called "The Frog and the Scorpion." You know, the scorpion asks the frog for a ride across the river. He assures the frog he won't sting him, since then they would both drown. So the frog agrees and the scorpion stings him. As they are sinking into the water, the frog says something like "why did you do that, now you'll die too?" To which the scorpion responds, "it's my nature."

I don't know if I'm the frog or scorpion. But I'm one of them.

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?

Definitely, all those things. I would add politics to that list, like science it’s one of those things that people often try to distill as something wholly rational - I think one of the poets jobs is to poeticize such things, remove their veneer of objectivity or factuality.

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

I find that question really difficult to answer - it's always changing, of course. It’s difficult to think of two poets who have influenced me more than Leonard Cohen or Frank O'Hara. I would also say, oddly enough that Virginia Woolf and Ernest Hemingway have quite noticeably effected how I write poetry.

My mother's published (and unpublished) poetry and perhaps more her private journals which I have the misfortune and blessing to have inherited, effect every aspect of my life including, of course, my poetry.

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

Despite what I said earlier, I would like to write a novel one day. I would like to have a play produced (I occasionally write plays). I would like to meet Leonard Cohen. And I would like go to every country I haven't been to.

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?

If I could go back ten years, I would devote much of my time to becoming a staff writer on The Daily Show. But I guess that's cheating since it's still writing.

If I have to pick a profession whose main task isn't writing, I would like to be psychologist along the lines of R.D. Laing or politician along the lines of Dennis Kucinich.

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

I don't know. I ask myself that a lot - what the hell is this being a poet - it's pretty weird, if not masochistic. I think I have to do it. That's the only answer that makes sense to me. If I could do something else (and not go completely crazy) I would be doing it.

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

The last great book I read was probably Naomi Klein’s The Shock Doctrine - I think that book will prove itself to be one of the most important and prophetic books of the 21st century, if it hasn't already.

The last great film was McCabe and Mrs. Miller (Mari-Lou Rowley has great taste).

I also read Elizabeth Baschinksy's Home of Sudden Service and was really moved by it. It made me want to write sonnets more often, and I hate writing sonnets.

20 - What are you currently working on?

I will make this short, since I have alluded to it already. I am, in bursts, working on poetry collection about my radical-American-Jewish heritage. Some of the questions I am exploring through the medium of poetry are: what is this shared history of being red and Jewish (shared amongst so many Jews)? And now that the Marxist meta-narrative is at best problematic, what happens to Jews like myself coming out of that heritage? It turns out these are poems about ‘place’ and ‘home’ and lack of both those things, but it took me months to realize that. Thanks.

12 or 20 questions (second series);

12 or 20 questions: with Barry Dempster

Barry Dempster is the author of fourteen books, including a novel, a children’s book, two volumes of short stories and ten collections of poetry. He has been nominated for the Governor General’s Award twice and has won a Petra Kenney Award, a Confederation Poets’ Prize, a Prairie Fire Poetry Contest and the Canadian Authors’ Association Chalmers Award for Poetry for his 2005 collection, The Burning Alphabet. In 2009, he published two new books of poetry: Love Outlandish, published by Brick Books in April, and Ivan’s Birches, with Pedlar Press, in September. Barry is senior editor at Brick Books. Also over this past year, he was a Wired Writing mentor at the Banff Centre as well as facilitator of a two week poetry workshop in Santiago, Chile.

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

I was nominated for the Governor General’s Award for my first book of poetry. I was so green that I actually didn’t know that there was a GG Award for Poetry. It gave me a shock to realize that people were reading my work outside of friends and family.

My most recent book, Ivan’s Birches, arises more from the subtle undertones of experience than my previous collection, Love Outlandish, where both my heart and my nervous system are worn on my sleeve. One shimmers, the other seethes.

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

Poetry was where my adolescent self felt most embraced. Growing up in the shadows of Christian fundamentalism and its use of volatile, life-changing language gave me a strong sense of compression and focus. And in the beginning there was poetry.

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?

How things start depends on how much “unconscious” time I get, time to dream and ponder and play. There are often false starts, projects where my will gets in the way. Once I immerse myself in writing, pace has nothing to do with it. I work steadily which is not the same thing as fast. My first drafts are rough little creatures, but they feel enough like promises to keep me going through a revision process that can add up to so many drafts I eventually lose track.

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?

A poem almost always begins with a line containing enough music to haunt me. Then and only then do I start opening myself up to content. I often think that I’m writing piece by piece without a particular goal in sight, but somewhere along the way I start to see a pattern. That point where a random blizzard starts to resemble a solvable puzzle is always a great relief.

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

I used to dread public readings. It felt like I was peeling a grape from the inside out. But then I started learning to let the language lead me, to just stand back and celebrate the harmony and dissonance of words. Now I sometimes enjoy myself up there breathing into a microphone.

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’m fascinated by the various levels of meaning that make language such a finely tuned system of truth and dare. I love undoing words and putting them together again in new relationships. It’s like building new mathematical equations with every fresh line, knowing that deep communication is both impossible and essential.

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?

The writer, especially the poet, is the representative of language. We owe it to readers to honour the vagaries of communication, to stretch the limits of the lyric, to face up to beauty or horror or balance in whatever ways they demand. At the most intrinsic level, everything we do affects the world. It’s important to live with that knowledge, to accept that we make a difference whatever it is we do or don’t do.

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

I’ve been exceedingly lucky to have worked with Don McKay several times. He asks questions that I might never think of on my own. He both broadens my work and helps me make myself small enough to get out of the way of the music. Becoming a stranger to your own work can be a marvelous gift.

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

Paul Eluard’s “I must not mistake reality for being like myself,” which I like to paraphrase as “Get your head out of your own ass.” It’s good to be reminded that I’m just a cog in the big machine, but that being a cog can also take a monumental effort and can sometimes feel like a religious experience. Very little to do with the ego, though. On a scale of one to ten, egos, like belly buttons and appendixes, don’t amount to much.

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 believe in giving the muse office hours, otherwise my life just sweeps me up in a swirl of lost minutes. An ideal day is where I sit down with the blank page after exercising for half an hour and stay there until I feel I’m done.

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

I turn to other poets. I turn to nature. I go for a walk to remind myself that I’m just one of a myriad of phenomena, that the world will open up to me when I give it the space it deserves.

12 - What do you really want?

Besides immortality and world peace? I want to write a better poem than the poem I wrote yesterday.

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?

Definitely nature. It’s where the scheme of things begins and ends. It’s science and holiness and challenge. I’m also very open to other art forms, to film and music and painting. To see the world through someone else’s eyes is a huge boost and privilege.

14 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
Different writers at different times, but I find myself most often returning to Neruda, Rilke and Eliot, the ways in which they first got me thinking and feeling and trying to go beyond the insignificance of myself. Sometimes the best thing is to pick up a book at random and to discover another way of speaking and singing. No agenda, other than to leave yourself open to discover something new.

15 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
I’d like to travel more. To take wiser, yet wilder leaps. I’d like not to feel so locked up inside myself.

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 would have been a full-time teacher or a psychotherapist had I not fallen into poetry. What I would like to be able to do is to sing like Otis Redding, act like Sean Penn, and paint like Mark Rothko.

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

Writing best suited both the most isolated and the most daring parts of myself.

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

The last great book I read was Marilynne Robinson’s novel, Gilead. The last great films were Agnes Varda’s The Beaches of Agnes and the new Jon Amiel film, Creation, about Charles Darwin coming to terms with loss and change.

19 - What are you currently working on?

I’m working on several manuscripts at once. I’ve been writing feverishly these last few years, a combination of facing mortality and finally accepting the fact that poetry deserves the most dedicated of disciples.

12 or 20 questions (second series);

12 or 20 questions: with Lesley Yalen

Lesley Yalen is a poet and writer whose work has been published in Invisible Ear, Skein, Denver Quarterly, jubilat, and elsewhere. Her chapbook, This Elizabeth, was published by Minus House Press in 2007. She is a member of Agnes Fox Press, a new chapbook publishing collective that's going to knock your socks off soon, and she lives above a neurologist's office in Northampton, MA.

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

First chapbooks are so wonderful, I think, because for many writers that's the first time they've seen their work as part of a cared-for and physically beautiful object. Before "This Elizabeth" it was pretty much all 8 1/2 X 11 print-outs for me. There is a whole additional level of aesthetic engagement added when the poems are laid out and bound in a book. When I first received a box of my chaps, I was just so into how they looked and felt. I kept stroking them.

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

Actually, I didn't. I started in the MFA program at UMass, Amherst as a fiction student. After a while, I switched to poetry. I've always loved both, and I think it was probably some contemporary lyrical fiction writers I was reading in my mid-20s--Jamaica Kincaid, Amos Oz, Michael Ondaatje-- who got me back into thinking seriously about writing. At some point, though, I just realized that my mind does not really work in terms of story. It works more in terms of sound, idea, and emotion-- and, yes, narrative-- but not story.

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?

My work is always a slow process. I tend to write long, interconnected sets of poems and it takes me a while to figure out what the arc of a given piece is going to be. There's a lot of reconsidering and revising and reconsidering and revising. It's not the poem-as-spontaneous-miracle paradigm, where the poet just sits down and it all comes out like a shining gem. Of course, I often wonder if I'm ruining my poems by overthinking them, but then that's like wondering if I'm ruining my personality by overusing it, and I just can't think about that.

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?

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

I definitely enjoy giving readings and also going to readings. I'm going to one tonight in fact. I live in Western Massachusetts and we have a fantastic poetry community here. There seems to be almost non-stop readings, often in non-traditional venues (a field, a rare Judaica shop, a living room), and they are often put on by people with creative visions for what a reading can be (I've seen a stand-up comedy routine, an acoustic music duo, and visual art paired with readings all in the past few months!) Readings are the best way to build community among writers. That said, I shake in my boots before I go up there.

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?

Oh god, let's see:
*can there be any truth given the relativity of everyone's subjective perspective?
*if so, what would that truth possibly mean?
*how are my most intimate emotions and experiences intertwined with the political, social, and historical context in which I live?
*how does my position in those contexts affect my vision, my ability to empathize with others, my language?
*what is the meaning of an individual's physical and/or spiritual limitations? In what ways are the limitations assets?
*how can contradictions and paradoxes become a site for unsticking things?
*what happens when I try to think through another person's language?

You know, fun stuff.

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?

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

Definitely essential. It can of course be difficult because my ego is always involved (read: entrenched) in my writing, but once I get over that I realize how lucky I am to have a not-me person's perspective on my work. What could be more valuable to me than a not-me? Nothing. Especially when that not-me is a caring and careful and engaged reader and writer. I've been very lucky to know and share work with several of those.

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

I'm paraphrasing my grandpa here: when deciding which room to sleep in tonight, pick the one with the best dreams.

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?

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

Alice Notley; Marlon Brando; Harpo Marx; the guy who walked the tight rope between the World Trade Center towers; Sam Cooke, Anne Carson, Inger Christensen, Juliana Spahr to name just a few. This week, I am also borrowing Mariano Rivera from my husband.

12 - What do you really want?

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?

(See #11.)

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

Well, it just so happens that many of my dear friends and loved ones also happen to be the most influential and important writers working today. I'm talking about famous writers like Brian Baldi, Seth Landman, Natalie Lyalin, Joshua Bolton, Lewis Freedman, Marie Buck, Jason Schwartz, Sara Veglahn, Leni Zumas. I am so incredibly lucky that these famous and influential writers just happen to be my friends (and, in one case, my husband.) Their work never stops urging me onward.

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

Speak/write another language fluently. I've studied Arabic, Hebrew, and Latin, but never achieved fluency with any of them. It's the typical American regret, and also mine.

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?

As uncool as it may be to say it, I think I would have been a therapist. I've always been really into thinking about people's motivations and frustrations and the choices they have as they face the things that come at them in their lives. I also like to sit in a comfortable chair. Who knows, I might still be one someday. Kim Rosenfield is a therapist and a badass poet, so I know it is possible.

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

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

Book: I just read a chapbook called Cymbals by a poet named Ben Estes. So good.

Film: Sherlock Jr., a Buster Keaton movie. I watched it on the Turner Classics network with my grandpa.

19 - What are you currently working on?

A few months ago, I wrote a series of poems which took language from Helen Keller's memoir and explored a relationship to language and self and people and ethics that I imagined as being both hers and mine. That is to say that as I wrote the poems, sometimes I was trying to access her and sometimes I wasn't, and in the end I feel like I created a kind of shared brain for the two of us. I'm doing the same thing now with St. Augustine's Confessions. He is an incredible person to be in communion with (pun intended). He is so meticulous and so heart-wrenching.

12 or 20 questions (second series);

12 or 20 questions: with Tony Burgess

Tony Burgess is the author of several books and could be described loosely as a `literary horror fiction' writer. He recently adapted his novel Pontypool Changes Everything into a film for Bruce Mcdonald. Tony lives in Stayner with his wife, Rachel and their two children, Griffin and Camille.

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 didn’t really change my life…except it encoraged me to write another. It did give me some confidence in believing I could own a way of writing. Funny you should ask that about my most recent, ‘cause I’m writing a story right now that would fit just fine in the first book.

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

I did start writing in a kind of hybrid of poetry, fiction and non-fiction…still do…I like that you can approach fiction as if it’s anything you want., once you’ve damaged it enough.

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing intitially 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?

Hmmm…it changes a lot…I tend to write sentences in my head…imagine the writing first…then wait, sometimes days, sometimes longer, for the right rhythm and pace to fit the shape…then I look for, again days or longer, a spot in it to pull hard against the rest of the story…this is the beginning…could happen to any part of it but the pull, a sharp pull, unexpected to the rest of the story elements and I have my beginning…then I physically write…usually fast… and close to how I want to read.

4 - Where does 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?

There are more than one way…sometimes I know I’m writing a novel, but I allow somethings to grow in compartments within the longer form…I know, whether it’s short or long, my earliest challenge is to slow down…to let things be for a while…the ending can wait…it’s a bit like the way an actor trains themselves not to anticipate another actors line…you have to convince your reader that you don’t know what’s going to happen.

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

Sure. I started as a public reader long ago, and the writing was just something to `perform’ then disposed of…I do much less public reading now but enjoy it…has not much to do with my process anymore though…

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. There are always theoretical concerns…and they appear and disappear as you need them…you can either seem to be in league with an idea or not. The great thing about theoritical concerns is that will lay seige on the least conscious thing. You don’t have to even know the current question,- you are – ahem - always already weighing in.

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?

Not a clue. Who should decide this: the larger culture or the writer? Dunno. Shouldn’t be me, probably.

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

Hmmm. That is one of those relationships that if it goes smoothly it isn’t working very well.

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

Be working on your next thing before you last one gets reviewed.

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 in the morning. For a few hours…I find as the day goes on and other things interfere I lose focus…but, if I’m on some crazed jag, I write around the clock a bit.

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

Writing very fast can get rid of a stall…really it can…make the conscious choice to write much faster. Failing that, sleep.

12 - What did your favourite teacher teach you?

Dilletantism works.

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?

Lordy, I was going to say films, which is true, but I see you gave nature as an option. And yup, that’s it. Entire completed and spell corrected paragraphs can be found in nature.

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

Oh that changes…as time goes on it’s less about cribbing from great books than listening to ephemera around you.

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

Write a novel that you have to sing.

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 would like to be a weather person on TV.

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

Hmmmm. Like anything I suppose, my Mom told me I was good at it.

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

19 - What are you currently working on?

Fiction, novels and short stories. Sequels to that damn zombie movie….other things.

12 or 20 questions (second series);

some upcoming rob (& one or two other) readings;

Wednesday, November 4 - 7:30 p.m. - Tricks of the Poetry Trade - Ottawa-based poet, editor and fiction writer rob mclennan will discuss his work, his creative process, and offer some proven tips for getting published.

Call Malcolm Matthews at 905-935-0581 for more information. St. Catharines Library.
http://www.canauthorsniagara.org/Resources/UpcomingEvents.html

Friday, November 13 at 7:30pm, St. Catharines ON; The Grey Borders Reading Series Proudly presents...

Catherine Owen, rob mclennan, and Jenny Sampirisi
Strega Cafe, 19 King Street, St. Catharines
http://greyborders.blogspot.com/

Tuesday, November 24 in Toronto, 8-9:25pm; rob mclennan reads at the Art Bar Reading Series with Jacob Scheier & TBA;

Clinton’s, 693 Bloor Street West; donations accepted but not required; featured readers + open stage;

Jacob Scheier is a Toronto writer, currently residing in New York City. His first poetry collection More to Keep us Warm (ECW Press, 2007) won the 2008 Governor General's Award for English language poetry. His poems have appeared in several literary journals in North America and have been aired on CBC radio. He is a regular contributor of articles and essays to Toronto's NOW Magazine and New York's The Indypendent. His poem "You're the Kind of Woman" was recently published in the anthology Leonard Cohen: You're Our Man.
http://www.artbar.org/

Friday, November 27, 2009, Ottawa; doors 7pm, reading 7:30pm

the semi-annual pre-ottawa small press book fair reading
lovingly hosted by rob mclennan
at The Carleton Tavern (upstairs), Armstrong at Parkdale, Ottawa

with readings by Michael Dennis (Ottawa), Spencer Gordon (Toronto), Michelle Desbarats (Ottawa), Garry Thomas Morse (newly in Ottawa) & Lisa Pasold (Toronto); with the ottawa small press book fair happening the following day at noon; http://robmclennan.blogspot.com/2009/10/ottawa-small-press-book-fair-pre-fair.html

Tuesday, December 1, 2009, 7:30pm; TORONTO; rob's second novel, Missing Persons, launches

as well as a number of other titles (tba) as part of the fall Mercury Press launch at Supermarket in Kensington Market, Toronto; http://www.supermarkettoronto.com/

In this short, generous, and lyrical novel, which seems to take place entirely outdoors in prairie weather, rob mclennan helps us discover, gradually a young Saskatchewan woman whose name is Alberta, creating in the process a portrait that is enduring, and endearing.
-- John Lavery

With no words wasted, this short novel is a sharp, lyrical, and mysterious look at the solace of silence and the struggle between the promise of the water and the power of the land.
-- Diane Schoemperlen

http://www.themercurypress.ca/

Thursday, December 3, 2009; The Yellow Door, POETRY AND PROSE READING

www.yellowdoor.org
3625 Aylmer, Montreal (between Pine & Prince Arthur); Tel: 514-845-2600; Founder, producer/host Ilona Martonfi 514-939-4173 ilona.martonfi@sympatico.ca
Doors 7:00 pm Reading 7:30 pm; At the door $5; An evening of Poetry, Prose & Music
rob mclennan with Stephen Morrissey, Susan McMaster, Jon Paul Fiorentino & Michael Mirolla.

"We gratefully acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts, and the League of Canadian Poets."