1 - How did your first book or chapbook change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
Fuse made me more confident but also, quieter in many ways. I don't feel the need to prove myself as much, now that I've written something so intensely (and what some readers have called "uncomfortably") personal. Before writing Fuse, I was grappling with a lot of half-formed or misformed ideas about who I was and what I stood for. I have a better—albeit still evolving—idea of all that now.
Prior to Fuse, I'd only written poetry and a little fiction, so this was a huge step outside my comfort zone. It's a raw experience; the book's existence in the world leaves me feeling vulnerable, because now just about anyone can read about some of the worst and most personally transformative moments in my life. But, as I said, I also feel more confident than I ever have. Even if people don't like or don't get what I write about, I know that it took a lot to say it and I know that it is resonating with a great many people, and that connection—having people contact me to say they cried reading Fuse because they felt understood and seen and so much less alone—that is a whole other kind of rewarding. Rewarding in a way praise for a poem or piece of fiction has never been.
2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or nonfiction?
Poetry is language distilled to sense and sense distilled to essence, and for better or worse, my senses have always operated in overdrive. So, poetry felt more natural and as I result, I've written and published a lot more of it, piece for piece.
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'm quick to start any writing process after a whole lot of reading and note taking. That process of gathering wool—the passive writing process—takes about as much time as the active writing. But once I sit down to write, everything comes fairly quickly. As quickly as my life/schedule allows.
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?
My work usually comes from a feeling; a sense that something is wrong or right or sad or beautiful or whatever. It's all very abstract at first. Annoyingly so, because then I have to try to pull out the story or sentiment behind this feeling.
But ultimately, it's the feeling I want to capture. In the case of Fuse, it came from feeling helpless and frustrated; not just about my own life, but helpless and frustrated that nothing was changing in the world, either, because no one was saying anything. I wanted to say something.
With poetry, each poem exists for itself and not a bigger piece, but usually, I have a common theme I am working my way through.
With personal essays and fiction, I often have a book in mind.
5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I understand readings can be beneficial and I don't mind doing them, but they are not my strong suit so I do not enjoy them as much as I perhaps might if I were a better reader. This is why I am so immensely grateful for everyone who comes to my readings anyway.
My inner critic is often reading over my shoulder and it makes me ramble-y and self-conscious. However, this will not stop me from doing readings and trying to get out of my own way. But I truly doubt I will ever be one of those amazing readers. George Elliott Clarke comes immediately to mind.
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 always interested in identity and rebellion. Especially now, when there is so much to fight against—climate change, social injustice, willful ignorance, etc. How do our identities fuel the things we choose to rebel against and why? I am working on a project now where I consider answers to these questions.
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?
Probably sounds hokey, but I think the role of the writer is to make the world a better place. This can be achieved in millions of different ways that will resonate differently with millions of different people.
Thankfully, there are millions of different writers.
8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I've always found working with an outside editor to be wonderful, necessary experience. Maybe I've just been lucky, but every editor I've had the fortune of working with has asked all the right questions and made my work better.
9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
Read, and read widely.
10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to fiction to non-fiction to reviews)? What do you see as the appeal?
I find it fairly easy. The appeal for me is that certain ideas I have are better explored by different genres. For example, when I am trying to wrangle my thoughts about the big questions (our role in the universe and impotence in the cosmic scheme of things), I find form poetry (sestinas, pantoums, haiku, ghazals) useful because they provide this lovely, predictable framework. I have something to hold onto as I begin.
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?
I start my day with movement: running, weight lifting, mobility training, etc. Whatever my body craves. It helps clear out my mind and burns through some nervous energy so I can better sit still long enough to write. It’s the best way I have of managing my OCD.
Then, because I write professionally for clients, I either get to my work for them or, if I've cleared enough time to do my own work, I dive into that. I typically stop when the kids get home from my parents' house, if they are there. If they are with me schooling for the day (they're homeschooled, due to COVID), I work nights, weekends, or stolen moments of calm in the afternoon. Mornings are always too busy.
Regardless, the day starts with movement.
12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
I read. Not necessarily in the genre I am writing, but I read something, anything, I love, which means I'll often reread something I already know I love.
I also move. Walking therapy is always breakthrough, so I head out with a pen and piece of paper in my pocket and put one foot in front of another until things start to fall into place.
13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Woodsmoke, lilac and apple turnovers—all at once.
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 plays a huge influence in my work, living in the country and having spent much time in nature as a child. Astronomy is also sneaking it's way in more than I realized: that crushing weight of the universe and all.
15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
I love Lucy Maud Montgomery—her journals, specifically. They make me feel less alone in my struggles with mental illness and I find it fascinating to see how what she wrote--all that hope--was so different from how she actually felt about her life. I can relate to that: creating worlds that are signposts for the one in which we live.
I also love fairytales (though I don't write them), romance novels (though I don't write them either), poetry of all sorts and creative non-fiction. Really, as I write this list, I realize every sort of writing can be inspiration for me.
I just finished reading a coffee table book on the history of machines and was riveted. I am taking a keen interest in translations recently, thanks to the astounding work of Khashayar Mohammadi, and am enraptured by this nuanced art form.
All this is to say that a variety of writing is important for my work and my well-being in general. I have four children who I'd die for without a second thought, but I can envision a possible life in which I am not a mother. I cannot picture a possible life in which I am not a reader and writer.
16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Publish a full-length book of poetry.
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?
Tough, because I can’t picture myself as anything else. However, if I had to pick something, I think it would be law: environmental or human rights. It would have to be a profession that made the world better in a really direct way.
18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
I couldn't think of another way to be happy. Flannery O'Connor said, "I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say" and that pretty much sums it up for me. Writing is my way of making sense of myself and my world.
Having my particular mental illness means that my mind is often frantic—experiencing sensory overload—writing slows me down enough to make sense of what's going on.
19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
The last great book I read was the last book I finished reading (I’ve finally allowed myself to just not finish books if I am not enjoying them): Walking Leonard and Other Stories by Sophie Stocking (Guernica Editions, 2021). I'm attempting some short stories and found that on the levels of craft as well as pure enjoyment, this collection was exceptional. I loved the way Stocking honed in on the details of everyday life and showed how the quotidian decisions are the ones that often have the biggest impact.
I'm going to reread it just to take notes. Plot development is not my strong point, which it doesn't need to be for all short stories but it should not be as underdeveloped as mine.
The last great film was the Iranian movie, The Colour of Paradise (1999) directed by Majid Majidi. It's so gorgeous and heartbreaking.
20 - What are you currently working on?
A couple things: I have a collection of poems (free verse and form) about rebellion that's kinda, sorta done (ready to be seen at least) and then a collection of short stories about fantasies (like, the everyday sort of fantasies we have about running away with the circus, not the fantasy genre).
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