Summer Brenner was raised in Georgia, attended college in Boston, lived for two years in Europe, and eventually migrated west, first to New Mexico and then to northern California where she has been a longtime resident. She is the author of a dozen works of poetry and fiction, including noir novels (Gallimard’s Série noire, PM Press); literary short stories (Coffee House, Red Hen); poems (The Figures); award-winning YA novels told through a social justice lens; and the occasional essay. Recent work can be found in Berkeley Noir (Akashic), Hello Goodbye Apocalypse and forthcoming from Spuyten Duyvil (Brooklyn) The Missing Lover, 3 novellas. Her latest is the prose chapbook DO YOU EVER THINK OF ME, newly out with above/ground press.
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 tremendous moment, for although a slim volume of poems, it signified that I would be taken seriously. Shortly after, a second book of poems and a novella from The Figures followed. I soon realized that prose narrative offered a certain continuity that wasn't available to me in writing poems. What I mean is I'd sit around waiting for poems, but I could pursue prose actively, thinking about it when I wasn't actually writing. By this time, I had a child, and my time for musing was very limited.
2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
As a young child, I was in love with words and how they sounded and looked. I was also in love with lyrics, especially the songs of Cole Porter and Gershwin, and memorized as many as I could. When I attended high school (in Atlanta), we were required to write poetry, and like so many teenagers, I discovered a way to articulate my chaotic feelings through poems.
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 can take anywhere from a few minutes to years. The catalyst is the first word or sentence (and sometimes a title) to jumpstart the process. The first draft might be quick, but I edit incessantly. It's hard for me to write anything and think, I'm done. Attributed to Leonardo da Vinci: "Art is never finished, only abandoned."
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 work can begin with a single word or observation jotted on a scrap of paper. Or variations on a theme like a collection of stories about different types of dancers. Or an idea as broad as sex trafficking. I had such an idea in the late 1990s when two teenage sisters, who'd been trafficked from India, were found near my house in Berkeley (they'd fallen victim to a gas leak and were rescued, and eventually, their enslaved condition was disclosed). However, I needed a state of rage to write such a book, which came a few years later during the U.S. bombing of Baghdad. I-5, A Novel of Crime, Transport, and Sex was the result. Another example is Devil for a Witch about antisemitism and the KKK. Originally published as a short story in Jewish Noir, I later expanded it to a novel.
5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I enjoy readings, and at one time I was part of a poet's band with G.P. Skratz and his group of merry musicians.
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 have no formal literary concerns, except to wed form to content. However, much of my writing has explored the social conditions of gender, race, and class. This is particularly true of the social justice novels I've written for youth: Ivy, Homeless in San Francisco; Richmond Tales, Lost Secrets of the Iron Triangle; and Oakland Tales, Lost Secrets of The Town. These latter two are place-based with African-American and Latino protagonists, who time travel into the history of their local past; and witness the transitions from Native to colonial life, the industrial era to wartime, and social uprisings. They've been used widely in schools and presented on the stage.
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?
Writing for me is an exchange with the reader with the hope that we make a connection, whatever that might be. Window or mirror? I think a writer is often both.
8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I haven't worked very much with editors, but on those few occasions, I've welcomed their responses, especially after I could no longer see the work.
9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
To have a physical practice that complements the mental demands of writing. One of the principles of tai chi: You train the body to train the mind. And another: Invest in loss (an interesting reversal of the presumption that what we do is motivated by measurable gain).
10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to noir fiction to essays to YA novels to plays)? What do you see as the appeal?
It broadens the practice to try different genres. Anyway I like being a "beginner," and changing genres sets me almost back to zero. For me subject matter dictates the form. For example, when I wanted to write about sex trafficking, crime fiction, fast and raw, was the obvious choice.
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?
As a single mother with a day job, I used to write whenever I could and tell myself that if I lay one brick a day, eventually I'll build a foundation. Now I have the luxury of more time and try to write every morning.
12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
Again, doing something physical, especially swimming or walking, almost always untangles the knot. However, it's not concentration but mental absence that helps me most. Sleeping is also good.
13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
My childhood home is Georgia, where the most redolent smells came in summertime: air heavy with humidity, red clay, cloying flowers, heated asphalt, mowed grass, and seaside rot.
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?
Books are essential, but even more essential are people. The peculiarities of human behavior interest me most. And traveling to an unfamiliar place, whether urban or rural, nearby or remote, is always stimulating.
15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
I read randomly, fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and try to choose works that will potentially reveal two things: the nature of a problem and the mechanics of a solution, both of which an artist has to invent.
16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Travel to unfamiliar places.
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?
It's a long way looking back, but I think I would have found a fulfilling life as a dancer. Or an archaeologist. Or an historian. Or a gardener.
18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
Writing is the most interesting thing I ever thought of doing. Endlessly interesting. In addition, it suited my temperament of staying home and being alone (not exactly suited for a dancer).
19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
Today I finished The Meursault Investigation by Kamel Daoud, and I thought it was nearly a great book. "Great" is a category reserved for very few.
20 - What are you currently working on?
A semi-autobiographical novel that I've been working on for years! It's never finished, and I don't know if I'm putting layers on or taking them off.
12 or 20 (second series) questions;
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