1 - How did your first book change your life? How does
your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
Like a lot of writers, I suspect, I was carrying around that first book for a while. Over the course of years, I would edit, revise, re-order, re-title, set aside, return to, and send out over and over again. When I finally got it into true “book shape,” I was relieved, and happy, to have someone interested in putting it out. So, in terms of “changing my life,” that vote of confidence was simply something I just really appreciated, and probably needed. Also, it was simply a relief to set that manuscript, those poems, down, and begin to truly begin work on the next collection. I felt free and energized.
As for how the most recent work compares to the previous, I feel like each book, while rooted in one world, always has a poem or two with an eye on the next—whether I realize it or not at the time. So, there is always something of bridge between them, albeit a small one that maybe only I can sense.
For each book, I have a sort of visualization in my mind of where I am standing when I read the poems, and that feels different for each collection. One book will feel like I’m in a small nook inside our house, another will feel like I am pulled over on the highway, and another will feel like I’m standing on the moon.
2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say,
fiction or non-fiction?
There’s a pretty straight line from becoming obsessed with Bob Dylan in high school, reading the back of his old album covers with their rambling poem/notes, and discovering Allen Ginsberg from there. Once I read “Howl,” that was it—I was all in. And while the Beats are a very specific school/style, the excitement I felt toward them fueled my interest in all forms/eras.
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?
First drafts of poems tend to come out like a huge lump of word-clay, relatively quickly. Then, the process of shaping them into actual poems takes a while—sometimes, if I’m lucky, as short as a week, and sometimes, months.
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?
I’m always amazed by people who have a defined “book concept” from the get-go—at some point, I’d love to try that, but for me, it’s usually more of writing and writing until I hit a sort of critical mass of poems and step back to realize “this is where the book is headed,” thematically, stylistically, etc. At that point, the realization of where the manuscript wants to go acts as a sort of spark to move to the end.
5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your
creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I really enjoy readings--there is always a sort of energy surge that fuels more writing. Also, doing readings is frequently productive in that I often read poems differently than I initially approached them on the page, so it can be helpful to find that merging moment of idea, content, rhythm, and intent. That’s why, even though it is nerve-wracking, I like reading brand new poems at events as it can really affect the revision process.
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 never know what the questions are at the start of a cycle of writing poems. I tend to start writing, and somewhere along the line, the questions the poems are trying to answer become clearer, and at that point, the larger project starts to come into focus. At risk of sounding melodramatic, it’s like entering a cave and feeling around for the walls and direction, and the farther I walk, I see a little crack in the surface with a sliver of light, and then maybe there’s a torch leaning against the wall, and then I’m in a room full of candles.
As far as the current questions, it is a constantly evolving set of them. There are the “Eternal-with-a-capital-E” questions, but then there are, obviously, questions that come with these horrifying times we’re in, as well. I think we all try our best to address those, and there are as many ways to answer as there are writers.
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 believe writing, simply creating art, is the role, regardless of the size of your audience or how far it echoes out into culture at large. Putting it poems out into the world is, in itself, a positive gesture. There are other roles connected to that, of course--being a member of the literary community (how can I support and promote other writers?), and then being a writing citizen of your city, country, and world (how can my writing respond to what I see around me, and possibly even be useful?).
8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside
editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I love working with an editor, or short of that formal designation, someone who can give you honest (sometimes blunt) feedback. I don’t want to write in a bubble of my own making.
9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not
necessarily given to you directly)?
Paraphrasing from years of advice: Read everything; read people who don’t write like you; cut, cut, cut; get over yourself; give yourself the freedom to change your mind; let people know when you love their work or what they’ve done for you as a writer.
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 routine changes and morphs throughout the year(s), but typically, I try to start something right before bed at night—a few lines, maybe an entire draft, and then the next morning, take that and work on it as a poem. As for how a typical day begins: start the coffee, stretch a bit while that brews, sit down to write for a while with that cup of coffee, try to not get distracted online, and when I feel like I’ve written to an exhale point, put on my glasses and then start school work, emails, and all of that.
11 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or
return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
There tend to be two main places I go to when feeling stalled out. The first is the oldest advice we tend to get, which is to read. For me, that means reading people who write entirely different kinds of poems than me. I know the style I write in already, so when I’ve hit a block, I don’t need to read other poems that exist in that same universe/point-of-view/perspective. I like reading books that are going to shake me up, get me excited, and show me things I’ve haven’t tried. That doesn’t mean I’m going to try to write like those books, but instead, they rattle me out of being stagnant and get me excited about writing.
The other move I like to make is to turn to friends who work in any of the arts. For this new book, I was particularly lucky because I was in touch with two artist friends—one photographer and one painter—who were interested in collaborating. T. Chick McClure, an incredible photographer, sent me some of his work which led to a handful of poems, and Linda Saccoccio, a wonderful painter, passed along a number of pieces which either sparked wholly new poems or helped me complete existing drafts. These connections developed right when I needed a boost, and made a real impact on the writing.
12 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Home (growing up, New Jersey): pizza fresh out of the oven at DiMola’s Pizzeria on route 22 in North Plainfield, NJ; home (current, Los Angeles): sizzling onions and peppers on a hot dog cart outside of the Hollywood Bowl after a show.
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?
Yes, absolutely, other art forms play a major role in sparking ideas, keeping poems moving, and even forming manuscripts. For the new book, I had two big influences outside of poetry-specific ones. The first was David Lynch’s somewhat-recent Twin Peaks revival season, specifically the Purple Sea that appeared in episode 3. When I started picturing this latest group of poems, I kept feeling like I was standing in those particular scenes, and they helped me move forward. The other big influence was Lou Reed’s The Blue Mask—even more than the lyrics, which obviously he is known for, the music on that album is the sound I hear when I read these new poems. Perhaps these are two clichéd, or obvious, references for a writer of a certain age, but they still move me to no end.
14 - What other writers or writings are important for
your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
That list is so long, so I’ll focus on two people who were important as I worked on the new book. My mentor from grad school, Norman Dubie, passed away in 2023, and his poems, and advice, were running through my head quite a bit as I worked on this new collection. This will be the first time I’ve published a book and won’t be able to send him a copy, which was not lost on me as I remembered so much of advice working on new poems. While studying with Norman, he introduced me to the poetry of his friend Michael Burkard, who wrote books that changed my way of viewing, appreciating, and ultimately writing, poetry. Burkard also passed away recently—I never had a chance to meet him, but his influence is immeasurable.
15 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Write a half-hour network TV comedy.
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?
DJ. I know this is a rare job position these days, but sitting in a room playing music all day sounds like a dream. More and more placing are starting to use AI DJs—I could make my stand as a human being with records, fighting the machine.
17 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something
else?
To be honest, I don’t know that something else was ever really a question. I just starting writing, and never stopped.
18 - What was the last great book you read? What was the
last great film?
I just finished Rivka Clifton’s Muzzle, which I loved—I am such a fan of her work, so I was looking forward to the collection, and it was fantastic. I also really enjoyed Sara Mae’s chapbook Phantasmagossip, which came out as part of YesYes Books Vinyl 45 series—that series always publishes incredible collections, and I absolutely loved this one. And this may be cheating, since I’ve read it many times before, but I just re-read Tracy K. Smith’s Life on Mars, as I was preparing the reading list for my Fall classes—every single time I read it, I am floored.
Movie-wise, I finally saw Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days, and I could not have loved it more. It immediately shot into my top five all-time favorites.
19 - What are you currently working on?
In an effort to clear my head for these questions, I was just outside to trim the rose bushes. So I guess, the garden?
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