Wednesday, June 12, 2024

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Onjana Yawnghwe

Onjana Yawnghwe is a Shan-Canadian writer and illustrator who lives in the traditional, ancestral, and unceded lands of the Kwikwetlem First Nation. She is the author of two poetry books, Fragments, Desire (Oolichan Books, 2017), and The Small Way (Dagger Editions 2018), both of which were nominated for the Dorothy Livesay Poetry Prize. She works as a registered nurse. Her current projects include a graphic memoir about her family and Myanmar, and a book of cloud divination.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
Did my first book change my life? Should it? I think in the sense of giving some legitimacy to this whole writing thing, like ‘oh your writing is actually good’ and confirming my writing’s external worth. It gave reinforcement to my life choices and how I spend my free time. It was a great feeling to have the first book out - a release of held breath, a ‘oh, finally!’.

My new book, We Follow the River, has had a strange life. It was actually the first book/manuscript that I finished. But no one wanted to publish it. So I moved on, and published two subsequent poetry books, Fragments, Desire, and The Small Way. Those are both about romantic love and the loss of that love, very different from this current book which is more about my family, immigration, race, and culture. This book coming out feels like things have come full circle.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
When I was a kid, I always wanted to be a writer, or more specifically, a novelist. But when I was 18 or so, words emerged in the form of poems. I was surprised. But I was reading a lot of poetry at that time, which I loved since I was young. Our family had one poetry book: a small paperback anthology of verse. In elementary school we had to recite poems from memory and I chose Robert Frost’s “Fire and Ice” which was about the end of the world, and Emily Dickinson’s “Because I Could Not Stop for Death.” (I had a bit of a morbid streak as a kid.)

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?
The tricky part for me is coming up with an idea that sticks. Sadly, I’m not the type of writer who has a multitude of ideas. Ideas sort of appear on their own after a period of incubation, and when an idea grabs a hold of me, I become pretty obsessed and want to work on the project in every spare moment. I usually do the necessary research in a fever, write a lot and quickly after that. When I’m taken with a project, a first draft comes together relatively quickly, and arrives in pretty good shape. I then like to take a break from it, and then start revisions with fresh eyes. The revision process usually takes the longest time. I usually have a vision of what the book project should look like, and the writing and revision process are basically attempts to be true to that ideal.

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 begins with either a line that I can’t get rid of in my head, or a desire to capture or express a particular feeling or thought. I think of my writing as going from project to project, definitely thinking of the larger whole as a book instead of writing short pieces and compiling them in a book. In seeing the project as a whole book, I like the investigative, interrogative function of writing poems - you’re telling one larger story but presenting different facets or experiences within that narrative. Poetry has built-in gaps in its form - it doesn’t pretend to tell the whole history of anything - and I like how each poem can evoke a glimpse of something and shed light on it. I see the thing as a whole, with me trying to help it come into being.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
They are neither part of nor counter my creative process. To me the writing part is its own creative thing, and I consider the work finished when I’m done with the writing and revising process. I’m naturally a very shy person, so readings were very awkward and uncomfortable for me, but this time around I’m enjoying doing events a great deal more, partly because I’m excited to share a part of my family to the world.

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 guess I’ve been concerned about how to express the intangible and unsayable. How to translate a particular emotion or the inner experience of something into a form that will be able to be shared with the world, to make the subjective less objective. I like finding moments that resonate, that ring out, that confirms, that makes you tremble and feel joy and weep and be in awe. I also think that I’m just the conduit for the art; a lot of my concern is trying to let go of ego and control and let the thing be what it wants to be. It’s important to accept emptiness, free up space, and receive the art. Observing and allowing, and doing only what is necessary.

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
I see writing as having a number of roles: a magnifying glass, a mirror, a camera, a telescope. Writing can distil and focus and make us feel present in a single moment; it can reflect back on ourselves, our weaknesses, strengths; it can document and give witness; it can be an exploration, adventure, an escape.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
The way I work is very solitary, so I have limited experience with outside editors. However, I did work with the brilliant Betsy Warland for The Small Way, because the material felt too close and raw and I couldn’t get much distance from it. In general, I like to edit my own work. But I like to have feedback from one or two writer friends.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
“Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all.” Pema Chodron, When Things Fall Apart.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to the graphic novel)? What do you see as the appeal?
I’ve never seen myself as a poet per se, but more a writer who is involved in a lot of creative projects. The way I think about poems is often cinematic and visual, and I think that is very much similar to the graphic novel form. That being said, working on a graphic novel is difficult for me because I don’t have formal art training. I sometimes feel like I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’m learning as I go along.

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?
Maybe because I work in spurts, I don’t have a writing schedule or routine. It’s also difficult because my work schedule (as an RN doing shift work) is erratic and irregular. There are chunks of time when I’m just absorbing - doing new things, meeting friends,  going out for walks,  looking at art, watching films, or reading. When I’m working on a particular writing project I wake up around 7:30am, meditate, wash up, have kombucha and coffee, then try to do a full day of writing, stopping only for meal breaks. When I’m deep into the zone, I often work until bedtime, around 11pm. Time passes amazingly fast. Before bed, I record everything I do during the day in a notebook. Sometimes I journal in a different notebook.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
When I’m bummed or feeling blah or need inspiration, I go to the movies. Being physically in the cinema and having your senses taken over by the film really rearranges my molecules. If the film is really good, I leave the theatre feeling like a new person: inspired, refreshed, renewed.

13 - What was your last Hallowe'en costume?
I avoid parties so I don’t do the holiday thing. I think in 7th grade, I wore a cat costume.

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?
I already mentioned films, and how I conceive of poems almost as scenes from a film. I also love visual art - particularly more spare and minimalist works, like Agnes Martin and Robert Irwin. Odilon Redon was a major influence for my first book, and Henri Rousseau for the second. I think good art distils and transcends. Art is food, water, and air for me.

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

Just off the top of my head, this limited list: Peter Blegvad, Dionne Brand, Anne Carson, Emily Dickinson, Marilyn Dumont, T.S. Eliot, Thich Nhat Hanh, Galway Kinnell, Roy Kiyooka, Yoko Ono, Dale Parnell, Sylvia Plath, Claudia Rankine, Christina Sharpe, Fred Wah.

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

Let’s just say I lack a lot of foundational experiences. Camping, or being in a canoe or rowboat. Staying  in a remote cabin in the woods.

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?
Filmmaker. I think I also would have liked to become a graphic designer who designs book covers and movie posters.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
I was born to write. It seems to be my sole purpose. It started with non-stop reading as a child.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film? Last great book?
Probably the graphic novel Monica by Daniel Clowes; it’s really weird. The last great film was The Beast, by Bertrand Bonello - it’s Lynchian and romantic and anti-romantic at the same time.

20 - What are you currently working on?
I’ve been working on a graphic novel about the story of Myanmar/Burma and my family for years. I’m hoping to create some shorter graphic novel pieces in the meantime. I’m collaborating with an artist friend on a cloud divination book. There’s a time travel romance novel I’m vaguely writing with a writer friend.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;


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