Harvey Steski grew up in Treaty 1 Territory (Winnipeg). She now lives in Tkaronto (Toronto) with her husband and daughter and works in corporate communications. Visit her website: carolharveysteski.com. Connect with her on Twitter: @charveysteski, Instagram: @carolharveysteski and Facebook: carol.harveysteski
For starters, it’s totally surreal. I began writing poetry a long time ago and took a several-year break while I was dealing with medical challenges (and triumphs – I also had my daughter during that time). Eventually I returned to writing in what I call my “second act.” So having this book published has made me trust that good things can happen when one sticks with a dream. I am very grateful to NeWest Press for giving me this shot. I’m still in shock, to be honest.
The publishing and marketing process have required me to deeply examine every aspect of the book and myself as a writer, the recurring themes in my work, my overall approach to poetry: what am I trying to say? Not all the poems in rump + flank are about health and medical challenges, but those personal experiences do shape my view of the world and the ideas I’m attracted to. I’ve also recently come to realize that this act – of putting the book into the world for others to read and connect with – is the next phase in the continuum of my own healing. It’s helping to repair my relationship with my body, in that the medical traumas I once viewed as betrayals of the body are proving quite functional: lemonade out of lemons. I’m now grateful for those negative experiences and my body’s ability to overcome them. I mean, the fact that I can hold a book in my hands after all these years is itself a testament to my own perseverance and resilience. Pinch me!
2 – How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I became turned on to poetry while immersed in a post-secondary communications program in Winnipeg, with (the legend!) Patrick Friesen as my creative writing instructor and later, mentor. Patrick introduced us to Lorna Crozier and The Garden Going On Without Us was so important to me. Her “Sex Lives of Vegetables,” poems blew my mind with their bold sexuality, absurdity and sense of play.
At the exact time this tantalizing new creative world was opening, my real world fell apart when I was diagnosed with melanoma. Facing mortality as a young adult was terrifying. I feel strongly that the universe brought poetry into my life at the exact right time – to hold my hand and guide me through the dark. I chose to write a poetry manuscript for my major project and was determined to use my cancer diagnosis as a catalyst to creating art, not purely for cathartic therapy (though that’s totally legit – I just wanted to move beyond that singular purpose). The first poem I submitted to a literary magazine, Contemporary Verse 2, was accepted, so I thought I might be onto something.
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?
A few of the poems in my new collection were written in the 90s, so it’s fair to say my process is pretty slow. But I’ve come to realize, and trust, that there is a natural cadence to my creative cycle. Writing poetry while immersed in a deep emotional or health struggle is almost impossible for me. During those periods, I need sufficient distance and time for productive brooding. I keep plenty of notes, mostly on my phone these days, snippets of ideas, dreams, phrases, objects I think are interesting. I move at my own pace, trying to manage and balance all the other priorities in my life as required, and remain open for when my inner voice eventually whispers, “ok I’m ready, let’s go.”
Once the actual writing starts, drafts happens both ways for me – a first draft can be fairly close-to-final with some tinkering, while others take much more time and persistence. I know a poem is finished when it plays over and over in my head on a loop, even waking me up in the night. Which is weird, but I love it.
Usually a poem starts with an image, object, saying or memory – things that fascinate me or that enter my head and won’t leave. Often these are rich visually, rhythmically and/or in their meaning, so are good fodder for obsessive examination. For rump + flank, a few poems were written many years ago, but the majority were produced in my “second act.” I was just getting back into writing poetry, like learning to walk again, so the collection is a curation of what I deemed to be my strongest pieces. Fortunately, the common themes and connections between poems happened organically. For my next project, while I hesitate to set a rigid singlular theme at the outset – as that sense of constraint can sometimes come through – the publishing process for rump + flank has shown me that I could probably benefit from having a more defined thematic strategy up front.
5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
When I was young and fearless, I loved doing readings. The pandemic has unfortunately triggered some extra social anxieties in me (this is happening to everyone, right??) so I’ve had to work through those demons to prepare for public readings. Events are still virtual right now, which helps. I do have great respect for an audience and so I write with performance in mind, having an emphasis on rhythm and vivid imagery that will translate across a room (or the screen, now).
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 don’t think I’m trying to answer questions so much as provoke, raise more questions. I have so many questions! In kindergarten, I wasn’t keen on going to school so one day my mom took me to visit the vice principal and talk it out with him. He told her that I kept answering all his questions with questions. So apparently I have zero answers – only 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?
The writer has many roles and it’s completely up to the individual to decide – for some, the role is to report, broaden horizons, influence change. For others, to stir emotions, convey humanity, create connections or purely to entertain, provide an escape. Or any combination.
8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
It can be extremely helpful to me as I work in a self-induced vacuum. Editors can see big-picture trends and themes when I’m stuck in the weeds. At the ground level, they can smoke out elements that aren’t working effectively in individual poems, as well as highlight style inconsistencies. I was privileged to have Douglas Barbour as my editor for rump + flank. Very sadly, he passed away in late September and I’m so very grateful to Doug for his expert eye and guidance. But it’s his positivity and kindness I will remember the most. He supplied me with a steady dose of confidence. And he believed strongly in the author’s final say, which was wildly empowering.
9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
Patrick Friesen drove home the vital importance of rhythm in a poem and that reading aloud during the writing process is essential: the poet’s ear must be satisfied before a poem should be considered finished. This excellent advice has been baked into my own process.
And, from Plath: “I must be true to my weirdnesses.” This resonates hard with my own weirdo nature, haha.
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?
The pandemic threw me into a creative tailspin but in the Before Times, a writing period would require great swaths of dedicated time alone. The day would begin with a fun latte, extra-caffeine. And end with scotch. No talking, except to read my work out loud (singing is allowed). Music is essential.
11 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
Using a different part of the brain than where words live can be extremely helpful. My career in corporate communications involves lots of writing and editing, so I’m manipulating language constantly (and often “corporate-speak,” to boot). Periodically allowing a non-verbal creative force to take over and give my verbal brain a break has worked wonders. Several years ago, I enrolled in guitar lessons and tinkered with oil painting, and it was probably my most productive period. And sometimes I just need to take a cold break and trust the process.
12 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Slow-rendering duck fat. Yum!
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?
Honestly, all of the above. Many are reflected in my poems: clouds, frogs, shark’s teeth, mosquitoes, cherries, decaying fish, the process of cooking and rendering, states of matter, disease and medicine, design typefaces, van gogh, and much more. I’m constantly dissecting the world around me trying to figure out how things work and what attracts me. Everything influences me. Music is a huge force and great lyrics, in particular, fuel me. Also lyricists: John K. Samson is a national treasure.
In my early writing years, Lorna Crozier was enormously important. Also, Sylvia Plath (“Suicide Off Egg Rock” is imprinted on me), Dylan Thomas, Seamus Heaney, Maya Angelou, Patrick Friesen, P. K. Page, Carol Shields, Michael Ondaatje, Karen Connelly, Di Brandt and Catherine Hunter. Years later, in my “second act,” Karen Solie’s Short Haul Engine resonated strongly for me, as did the work of Priscila Uppal, Sharon Olds, Paul Vermeersch, Catherine Graham and Sara Peters. Right now, there are so many talented voices, I’m constantly blown away and just trying to keep up!
15 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Properly learn guitar and write a song.
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?
17 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
I was always drawn to languages and drama, so having a career in communications (and my poetry side hustle) makes sense.
18 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
My attention span, which was dysfunctional to begin with, has been completely shattered during this pandemic so reading for pleasure has been nearly impossible. The last full book I read was my own (the manuscript and design proofs) and, like, 100 times. The last great film I saw was Casablanca cuddled up with our daughter. Nothing like watching a war movie during a global pandemic lockdown to remind you of the much-greater sacrifices other generations have made for the common good.
19 - What are you currently working on?
In this past year and a half, I’ve poured all of my energy into family, my hectic job and preparing for the production of rump + flank so I’m very hopeful to be able to start a new creative phase soon. I have a number of poems in various stages which hopefully will form a next collection. There’s still a strong element of body in these new poems, but I’ve also begun to explore the body’s connection to place.
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