12 or 20 (second series) questions with Mallory Tater

Mallory Tater is the author of four books: This Will Be Good: Poems, The Birth Yard: A Novel, Lockers are for Bearcats Only: Poems & Soft Tissue: A Novel (forthcoming with ECW Press in 2028). She was the publisher of Rahila’s Ghost Press, a now-retired chapbook press. Mallory currently lives in Vancouver, where she teaches at the University of British Columbia’s School of Creative Writing.

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?

In all my works—be they poetry or fiction—I am fascinated by the way patriarchal systems shape the body, identity, and society. My writing often explores the enduring effects of childhood experiences, purity culture, and institutional religion, analyzing how early lessons on gender roles, shame, and family disconnection arise from the body. This collection poses queries about the survival of friendship and selfhood, how we bear the marks from the organizations and connections that mold us, and how we can transform those into something healing or creative. All of my work circles the same themes I feel like—whether delving into friendship and grief, motherhood and personal agency, or the struggle between genuine self-expression and aspiration—to understand what it means to live meaningfully within (and against) structures that seek to restrict and constrain us.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

I find working with an editor awakening, encouraging and vital to transform my work into something beyond the self. My spouse, Curtis LeBlanc, always says writing is a selfish endeavor with the most compassionate results. An outside editorial eye is the initial cultivator of that shift from the individual to the collective. For this collection, working with Jim Johnstone was invaluable as he helped me embrace the mess of the page and to experiment with lineation and shape/form more than I typically do. Editors invite risk and risk enhances the poem.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

So simple—write the work that you want to read.

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 welcomed a baby last spring, so I do not write on a daily basis. Writing when I'm not always particularly inspired, but when time allows, is a new experience for me but I am trying to embrace it and treat it as time well spent no matter if it’s a generative or ‘good’ sitting. Every day for me starts with baby cuddles, a french press amount of coffee and watching old fashioned, dread-filled cable news.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

My friends here in Vancouver (Hi, Jocelyn Tennant, Mica Lemiski, Rachel Jansen and Selina Boan!) are really talented writers. I meet them for coffee or a walk and we talk about our stalls, our hopes, our process. I always want to write afterwards. Their company and conversation is a magic balm!

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

Gain laundry detergent.

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 love television as an art form and escapism. A good docuseries deep-diving on an unconventional family or a travel show exploring somewhere I’ve never been instantly captivates me. I can lose an entire day to television if I let myself. Sometimes I do.

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

The collections of Canadian poetry that I’ve enjoyed most from recent years are The Program by Megan Fennya Jones, Exhibitionist by Molly Cross-Blanchard, and Midway by Kayla Czaga. These are books that boldly embrace intimacy, humor, and sadness in a way I always want my own work to.

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

I’ve always wanted to write a horror screenplay with Curtis LeBlanc and Shaun Robinson. We watch a lot of horror movies together and I think we’d come up with something really beautiful, contemporary and intense.

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?

I love the origins of language and etymology and helping people. If I had a keener science-oriented brain, I think I would’ve loved to have been a speech pathologist.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

I’ve been writing since I was very young. My first story was entitled The Dragon That Couldn’t Blow Flames. I think it’s because I love to talk but I can’t talk all day—not enough people will listen that long. Writing is a place I can continue conversations with myself in peace and in solitude without annoying everyone.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

Girl on Girl: How Pop Culture Turned a Generation of Women Against Themselves by Sophie Gilbert.  And I just rewatched Parasite on a plane and it held up even better than I remembered!

20 - What are you currently working on?

I have a novel coming out with ECW Press called Soft Tissue and I am in the midst of working with my editor Pia Singhal and darkening the tonal arc of the book. It’s about reality television, stage parenting, dance culture and the darkness of social media fame.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Emilie Buchwald

Emilie Buchwald’s book of poems, The Moment’s Only Moment won a silver Benjamin Franklin Award. Her poems have been published in Harper’s, The American Scholar, Kenyon Review, The Lyric, Sleet, Sing, Heavenly Muse, When Women Look at Men, Rocked by the Waters, among others. She is the editor of the Poetry Society of America’s Wallace Steven Centenary Celebration, The Poet Dreaming in the Artist’s House, Mixed Voices, and This Sporting Life. Her award-winning children’s titles include Gildaen and Floramel and Esteban (Harper Collins), and Buddy Unchained.

Buchwald, PhD, Hon DHL, was the cofounder and publisher of Milkweed Editions, editor or coeditor of more than 200 books of poetry, fiction, and, nonfiction titles centered on social justice and the environment. Books she edited received more than two hundred awards or recognitions. When she retired, the press had more than a million books in circulation. In 2006, Buchwald became the founding publisher, editor, and now copublisher with Dana Buchwald, of The Gryphon Press, publishing children’s picture books about the human-animal bond, addressing the challenges real animals face and the impact of human kindness and caring.

Distinctions include The Lyric Memorial Award, The Kay Sexton Award, the McKnight Foundation Distinguished Artist of the Year Award, the A.P. Anderson Award, and the National Book Critics Circle Ivan Sandrof Lifetime Achievement Award.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different? I’ve always written poetry; I’ve had poems published in various journals, but my first and second published books were children’s novels, and, after that, editing four poetry anthologies, all before my first published book of poems. Each experience was positive, but having a body of work together in a first book was thrilling and very positive.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction? Poetry came early and very naturally to me as a way of expressing my thoughts and experiences with people and especially about describing my thoughts about the natural world.

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? There’s a first rush of excitement when I’m smitten by an idea for a book. After that, the project takes a great deal of time because I draft and redraft until I’m satisfied. Sometimes I have to put the project on hold because I can’t see the best way to conclude it.

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?  It usually begins with an image or an idea. I don’t begin by thinking about a book at the outset but about capturing what I’m seeing and feeling in each individual poem.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings? I very much enjoy communicating with readers in person. There’s energy coming from an audience during a reading, as well as in th questions  and answer, and having conversations about the book afterwards.

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 concerned that as a culture, we are deliberately shut off by business and government from what happens behind the scene, to animals as well as to people. Writing about the reality of being alive and in touch with the experiences of the residents of the planet is important to me.

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 think that one’s writing should express one’s personal values. If you can truthfully and persuasively share those values with readers, that’s a meaningful addition to the cultural conversation, and it means committing in our writing to what we really think and care about.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?  I have been an editor and publisher for much of my adult life. As an editor, I do my very best for a manuscript; that is, I speak truthfully about what would make it better and what I see as holding the work back from being as successful and energizing as it might be.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)? This is a very old piece of advice: After you’ve written something and you think you’re finished, put the manuscript away and don’t look at it for at least a few weeks. The Roman poet Horace suggested waiting two years! However, whenever you come back to your work, you will see it much more clearly, without the first rush of excitement. Tincture of time gives you the opportunity to be your own best editor and your own harshest critic.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to books for children)? What do you see as the appeal? I happen to enjoy writing in both of those genres, and I do think experience in one genre is useful in moving to another.

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?  An idea for something I’m working on often comes to me unbidden. I jot down as much as I can of that initial thought until I have time to return to it. But, once I’m engaged in a writing project, I establish a routine for that work, and I give it as much time as I can.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?  I read—the writers whose work I admire in the genre I’m working in. That’s often just what I need to do before going back to the project— because I’ve observed ways and means to do a better job.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?  Cooking fragrances like cinnamon, parsley, dill and of course, onions frying, the great TS Eliot objective correlative. These fragrances jog my senses into greater connection with the world around me.

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?  When I see great works of art, I want to know how to admire them, what makes them unique. The natural world, however, is a constantly available resource. When I’ve been energized by the ever-changing reality outside my door, I feel recharged, and consider that  I might have something worthwhile to say.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?  Like many writers I know, I’m always keenly interested in what’s new as well as what books I’ve missed over the years. I follow certain writers, especially poets whose work I love, like Wislawa Szymborska; their writing is nurturing. It’s also fun to talk about books with other writers.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done? Write a collection of short stories. I have a few that I continue to think are worthwhile.

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? I have another occupation, as a publisher and editor, an occupation that keeps me close to writers and writing.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else? It was the only thing I wanted to do. I was drawn to writing from mu earliest years, because I wanted to see whether I could come up with something that I, as a reader, would find worthwhile. I’ve thrown out much, much more than I’ve kept.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film? Recently I’ve been reading nonfiction about the natural world we’re industriously destroying. I would recommend Ed Yong’s An Immense World as consistently enthralling and enlightening.

20 - What are you currently working on? I’ve started on my next book of poems. I’ve also gone back to the most recent draft of a children’s novel that I think could be more interesting than anything I’ve written thus far. One of the joys of writing for me is the constant opportunity to break through into new territory, to say it better.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Myriam J.A. Chancy

Myriam J.A. Chancy, award-winning author of What Storm, What Thunder, is a Haitian-Canadian-American writer, the HBA Chair in the Humanities at Scripps College in Claremont, California and a Fellow of the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

When you publish a first book, it feels like you'll never write another, but then you do. Life doesn't so much change as it gets bigger in terms of reaching readers and finding that what you had to say resonated with others. My first published book (not the first written), was on Haitian women's literature and created a subfield. It made it possible for others to do their work and established me as a senior scholar fairly early in my career. So, that was a great boost, but it took much more time to get my novels out. What I've learned in the process of publishing my books (ten in all at this point) is that what matters is writing the next book, and each one will have varying degrees of success but each will find their intended audience in time. So, it's not so much life changing as taking a step towards one's writing life, towards coming to terms with exposing one's inner self to a greater world through writing.

My most recent work, a novel, Village Weavers compares to the previous in that it depicts Haitian characters as connected to a complex culture and also to global affairs. It differs in that it has fewer characters than my previous work, which was narrated by ten characters, whereas Village Weavers has only two.

2 - How did you come to fiction first, as opposed to, say, poetry or non-fiction?

As a reader and professor of literature, I've always preferred the novel form for its complexity and breadth so I gravitate to fiction over other genres at the same time as I write academic essays and nonfiction pieces alongside the fiction.

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?

Each project is different in terms of the time it may take. Some works have taken me several years while others have only taken months. I think the time a project takes depends on external factors, whether I'm teaching full time or not, whether I have to undertake a great deal of research or not and how tired I may be at any given point. If the structure is particularly trying, that may also take me more time to work out. Village Weavers took me roughly a year and a half to write, whereas the previous novel, What Storm, What Thunder, took six to eight years. Having said this, the process is more or less the same each time: I begin with an idea and start writing, then I determine if I want to block out the book's structure or just want to write my way through. If I write my way through, I write several drafts before arriving at the version that will go out to an editor. The initial drafts I consider the writer's draft and can look very different from the final product. I take notes while I'm writing, usually on research and points of plot that I don't want to forget but I don't essentially write from notes; they're there to keep me on track as I write and revise.

4 - Where does a work of prose 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 working on a novel; it's the genre that interests me, the complexity of the relationships between the characters and the larger scope of their lives. It's what keeps me engaged. So, I'm definitely always working on the “book” rather than shorter pieces.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I do enjoy doing readings. As a kid, I participated in French declamation contests and the objective was to bring someone else's piece alive for an audience. Readings from one's own work is similar in that it brings the work alive for the reader but it also marks the definitive end of a project for me as its writer. Public readings are a letting-go process: it's not an act of creation but an act of release - to give up the finished project and to free myself up to work on something new.

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?

Well, since I'm also an academic, I'm always animated by theoretical concerns having to do with the postcolonial condition, feminist issues, race, gender, and so on, and I think about the intersection of the theories developed in these fields with the themes I'm trying to bring out in my fiction. By the same token, I don't think there are particular questions I want to answer in the works generally. My creative projects also differ from my academic ones in that they address spiritual concerns that can't be addressed in the academic work. Each project brings with it its own sets of questions - or a particular question - that I then seek to work out through the arc of the novel and the relationships of the characters to one another. These questions from one project to another while the overarching issues having to do with the postcolonial and identity remain more or less stable: how does the history of colonization continue to impact individuals within formerly colonized nations? How do factors such as gender, race, clas and sexuality alter the scope of possibility for characters and color their perspectives?

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?

To my mind, the role of the writer is to illuminate, whether that is to examine various aspects of human nature or to shed light on forgotten histories or communities. Literature exists in order to provide us with tools for examining ourselves, our beliefs, societies and to better understand others. It should serve as a means to sympathize with others on the human condition. Empathy might be the end goal but that might be too much to hope for.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

Editors have been key to my publishing life whether early in my career or at present. Earlier on, editorial feedback helped me to work out my strengths and weaknesses, helped me to make decisions about what aspects of the craft were valuable to me and which were not. At this point, editorial feedback has more to do with assisting me in reaching my goals as I've set them out in a given project. A good editor provides the necessary external perspective, especially when a project is complex or emotionally charged. In the revision process, an objective editorial eye is essential.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

Read poetry. Raymond Carver (in a letter of response he sent me when I reached out asking for writing advice when I was a teenager).

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?

No typical days. I write mostly when inspiration moves me to do so. When I'm deep into a project, my usual routine is to get up very early in the morning to write, usually between four and seven or seven to ten in the morning. I write. The cat joins me, then I go back to sleep or go teach. The earlier I can get some writing in, the more I can get out of my day. Then I just keep going until the full first draft is completed. Sometimes I revise as I go until I feel that I'm nearly done. It depends ont the project. I know the work is done when the characters no longer have anything to say and aren't waking me up to get to work! I also drink a lot of tea when I write and take daily walks.

11 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

Music. Always music. I usually have particular recordings I play related to each work. Sometimes I compile a playlist as I go, sometimes afterward. Music is a touchstone so if I get stalled or need to rethink some aspect of a project, music is always the way to go. And walks.

12 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

The scent of laundry. This always reminds me of my mother.

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?

I'm a very visual person and worked with photography when I was younger. I like to think of my novels as cinematic so thinking in terms of film sequences, lighting, mood, setting, all of that comes into my writing. Music too.

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

I'm inspired by the work of many contemporary writers and read widely. Historically speaking, the works of James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, Paule Marshall, Toni Cade Bambara, Margaret Laurence, Margaret Atwood, have been formative, among others.

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

Create an alternative small press or run a creperie/bookstore.

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?

If I had a different constitution, I would have liked to have been a chef, or a painter. When I was in College, an aptitude test claimed that I would have been a good florist - that might still be something interesting to try.

17 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

I really don't know. I've been writing since I was seven and publishing since I was a teenager so it seems I was always meant to be a writer. But, in the end, I think I'm an artist and if I weren't writing, I would have found another outlet for self expression.

18 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

The last great book I read was Jacque Roumain's 1946 classic, Gouverneurs de la Rosee (Masters of the Dew), in the original French.

The last great film - Jessica Lange in The Great Lillian Hall.

19- What are you currently working on?

A novel focusing on the entwined themes of race, gender and travel, and some essays.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Shome Dasgupta

Shome Dasgupta is the author of The Seagull And The Urn (HarperCollins India), and most recently, the novels The Muu-Antiques (Malarkey Books) and Tentacles Numbing (Thirty West), a prose collection Histories Of Memories (Belle Point Press), a short story collection Atchafalaya Darling (Belle Point Press), and a poetry collection Iron Oxide (Assure Press). His first book i am here And You Are Gone won the 2010 OW Press Fiction Contest. His writing has appeared in McSweeney's Internet Tendency, New Orleans Review, Jabberwock Review, American Book Review, Arkansas Review, Magma Poetry, and elsewhere. He lives in Lafayette, LA and can be found at www.shomedome.com and @laughingyeti.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

I still very vividly remember receiving the email about my first book winning a contest. I had a very basic flip phone at the time, but it was able to receive notifications. I saw it as I was driving home, and I pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater, and read the email in disbelief. I read it over and over and over again, and then the tears came. I don’t know how it changed my life—I can’t explain it, but if anything, I know it certainly gave me the encouragement to keep going. Atchafalaya Darling was really fun to write—there weren’t any obstacles or challenges as I drafted each story. It was the most relaxed and at ease I had felt as I put together this collection. There are some darker toned stories in this collection, but even then, I didn’t feel burdened by them, but rather my burdens were being released as I journeyed through these pieces.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?

Poetry was definitely my first form entering the world of writing, and I think this was mainly because of the music I was listening to, which was heavily lyrically oriented, and I just wanted to create those same sensations with my own words.

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 a project—I don’t think it takes too long because I have a general idea of what I’d like to do with language or the characters or the plot, but only a general idea that floats around in my head. Initially, it arrives quickly, but every new project has a new experience and process—some being quicker than others. I’d like to think that the first draft of Atchafalaya Darling was one of my quickest, but after that—the rewrites and revisions definitely require more time and attention. While there are several versions of each story, I don’t think there is anything all too majorly different; however, one simple sentence, especially at the end of a story can remarkably change the whole tone.

4 - Where does a poem or work of prose 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?

It usually begins with a line—most likely an opening line that just kind of pops into my head, or an image, and with either, I explore or consider how to create a sound and rhythm out of it—this is for both poetry or prose, and then from there, I’ll see if I can continue with it and find out what happens. I've used both processes with different books, but I don't know if it starts off as intentional.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I dread give a public reading (or even recordings of any sort). The anxiety that comes with it is overwhelming. I think the actual reading part is fine, mainly because it is all a blur, but the thought of giving a reading or waiting to give one—the days leading up to it and on the actual day itself really gets to me. Conversely, I love to attend readings—whether small or large venues, I find them to be magical as a spectator.

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 keeping in mind any kind of theoretical practicalities in my writing—at least not intentionally. Perhaps, it can be analyzed in such a way, but I’m not focusing on it. I don’t know—I think I write on the surface level, and maybe there’s a deeper meaning that can be found, hopefully, an engaging connection to which readers can relate. I’m not sure if I’m trying to answer any questions—or maybe once I finish a particular piece or poem or manuscript, questions arise, which might lead to go back and see if there’s some kind of answer, but for the most part, I just kind of write and then write and then write some more.

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 think this varies from writer to writer—each having their own intentions. I don’t know what the role of a writer should be—I know that for me, it’s trying to connect to the world in hopes that readers might be able to find the same kind of relationship. I love the elements that surround writing—such as language and imagery, and I try to keep it as simple as that. Perhaps, the role is given from the reader rather than the writer. I do know that there are writers who have impacted society in meaningful and powerful ways, and I admire them so much in their courage to share their voice to provide a magnifying glass, hovering it over our lives, past, present, and future. So much change and progress, I think, has been created by literature, much like any other form of art and creativity, and it’s quite clear how reading and writing and writing and reading are so important these days, regardless of a potential role of a writer.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

I have been very, very fortunate and lucky to have nothing but amazing experiences with previous editors—whether it’s for a journal or a publisher, there’s so much insight to learn from what they can offer for their writers. I find it engaging and the various perspectives provided, I always take into consideration. I think that anything I’ve written which has gone through the expertise of an editor is stronger because of it.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

About writing? Or life in general? I guess for either one or both—be happy with what you’re doing. I say this coming from a privileged way of living, though there was a large part of my life, even though I had all the necessities for a life, when I was nowhere near feeling any kind of joy, whether it was related to writing or pretty much anything else. I think self-care has much to do with it, and finding a way to love yourself and others and sharing your experiences and emphasizing and sympathizing with others and encouraging each other to keep going. These are bits and pieces of advice, whether directly or indirectly over the recent years, and I always keep that in mind day to day.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to fiction to creative nonfiction)? What do you see as the appeal?

I feel like it’s generally a smooth transition because it only happens when an idea pops up, whether it’s for a poem or fiction or nonfiction—I think the trickiest part is writing in one form, and an idea for another form comes to mind, and trying to make the decision of diving right into the new idea or stay with the original one, mainly because of impatience on my part, but I’m also worried about losing momentum if I were to move from one piece to another without having completed the current work-in-progress. If I’ve finished one form, though, it seems to be a nice switch if there’s something else I’d like to write in another form.

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?

Oh the writing routine definitely changes—I guess it changes with whatever works best with what’s going on at the time. Some days, I like to write in the mornings or afternoon, other times—at night, or ideally, at all times of the day. It all just kind of depends on what’s going on in my life. In the summer though, as I have the time do so, I try to write every day—it doesn’t matter what time of day, but at some point, every day, though I don’t think it’s necessary.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

I don’t think I turn to anything for inspiration, at least not intentionally, but rather, I just wait it out or just force myself to put words down even though they aren’t the words I want, and hopefully, I’ll find a way out of it.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

Oh gosh—any kind of Indian cooking.

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?

Oh definitely—all those mentioned: music, art, science, nature, movies, TV, sports—I try to soak it all in from anywhere I can.

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

All of it, to be honest. I try to read as much as possible—whether it’s books, journals, social media, brochures, manuals, anything and everything that can be read. There are a million writers, too—but I guess I don’t want to only mention a few of them because I wouldn’t want to leave anyone out.

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

I would love to ride a horse, or at least be friends with one.

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?

Writing is always a side gig for me—meaning, it’s not my way of living so I think no matter what I would be doing as a profession, I’d still be writing. Any occupation to attempt? Perhaps being a farmer or a mechanic, or maybe a computer programmer even though I have no clue how to perform in any these realms.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

I think because I was always surrounded by it—I was very lucky to have access to books, and everyone I knew, especially in my family, were always reading.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

I recently read Maurice Carlos Ruffin’s American Daughters, and I was mesmerized by it, and I’ve still been thinking a lot about Katy Simpson Smith’s The Weeds. It was on TV the other day, and I really enjoyed Unstoppable.

20 - What are you currently working on?

I’m working on some shorter pieces, whether it’s fiction, poetry, or creative nonfiction, but it looks like I’m focusing a bit more on poetry right now, while somewhere in the back of mind, and I’m letting some possible ideas for a novel simmer.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Kevin Sampsell

Kevin Sampsell is the author of a memoir (A Common Pornography), a novel (This Is Between Us), and a collection of collages and poems (I Made an Accident). He lives in Portland, Oregon and runs the influential small press, Future Tense Books. An award-winning bookseller, he has worked at Powell's City of Books since 1997. His collages have appeared on album covers, book covers, and in many publications like Kolaj Magazine, The Rumpus, The Weird Show, Chicago Quarterly Review, Little Engines, and Black Candies. His writing has appeared in Paper Darts, Southwest Review, Salon, Poetry Northwest, McSweeney's, Tin House, and elsewhere. He is the co-curator of Sharp Hands Gallery, a website featuring international collage artists.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

Technically, my first book (that wasn't a chapbook) was a self-published collection of stories, poems, and word collages called How to Lose Your Mind With the Lights On (Future Tense Books, 1994). It's pretty wild to think about how long ago that came out. I think it changed my life because it was my first experience doing everything all on my own. I probably could have used an outside editor, but if I looked at that book now, I'm sure I'd still appreciate a lot of its goofy weirdness. My most recent book, I Made an Accident, is a collection of collages and poems. In some ways it feels similar to that first book because it's a hodge-podge of things meant to surprise, delight, and even confound you. 

And how does it feel different? The collages are a lot better this time around.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?

I started in high school. My best friend and I would write weird little poems, but we didn't even call it poetry. We called them pieces. We were basically just trying to crack each other up, which I think was the early mission of the surrealists too, right? I wanted to write poems that were more Monty Python than Robert Frost.

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?

Over the years, it's been all over the place. I think I was more focused and compulsive for the first ten years or so of my writing life. I'd write whole stories pretty quickly, and sometimes several poems a day. I'm much slower now and I edit myself a lot more. But I know that writing, and especially publishing, is a slow game. It doesn't bother me to go slow now. But I'm always working on something, and a lot of times copious note-taking is involved.

4 - Where does a poem or work of prose 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?

Two of my books, the novel, This Is Between Us, and my memoir, A Common Pornography, were written in a non-linear fashion. I'd write chapters or scenes and then later spread them all out on the floor and figure out what order they needed to go. I finished a novel recently though that I wrote in a more traditional fashion, from the beginning to the end. And I challenged myself to write longer chapters for this book too. Off and on, it took about eight years. Who knows if it will ever get published.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I do enjoy doing readings and I actually host about a hundred or more readings every year at my job (Powell's Books in Portland, Oregon). I think I'm a good reader and I'm good in front of an audience, so sometimes it helps sell a few more books when I can deliver an entertaining reading. I notice that at my job too–a great reading sells a lot more books than a mediocre one.

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work?

One of the main things I think about when writing is how people interact with each other and how relationships work. I don't think I could convincingly write something very engaging about nature or politics. I'm captivated by people in the world and all the strange things that can happen to them. I especially love writing about ordinary people who find themselves in unexpected situations they probably don't want to be in. More recently, I do find myself fixating on death, loss, and grief as central themes.

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?

There are all kinds of writers and they all have different intentions or missions. I don't really think about what "role" they're trying to fill and I don't think they "should be" attempting to define the larger culture. I think questions like that feel too pointed and put too much pressure on writers to do something that others will see as "Important" (with a capital I). Writing is an art form that can do anything and be anything, and it shouldn't always concern itself with influence. 

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?

I love it for the most part. I want to know that my writing is making sense to another human. Most of the time, if I get a story or essay published somewhere, there is very little input from an editor. But the times when I've gotten notes from editors, it's been really helpful and eye-opening. 

As an editor myself, I love it when I can help a writer make their work better, whether it be through small edits, suggestions, or playful challenges. With Future Tense, I work alongside my co-editor, Emma Alden, and it's appreciable to have her input and notes. We usually work through a shared Google doc and seeing how our thoughts help shape the book we're working on, makes it really enjoyable. 

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

A publisher friend told me a long time ago that I should be writing off things for my tax returns each year. I found a good tax lady who helped me figure out what I can and cannot do, and frankly, it was life-changing.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (fiction to poetry to memoir to collage)? What do you see as the appeal?

I think it's been a natural progression. I mean, I don't intentionally say, I have to do this genre now. I've always liked to make different things depending on whatever I might feel most interested in. For a while, it was personal essays, and then it was flash fiction, and eventually it was visual art. I even had a haiku phase! And I admire other people who can express themselves in various forms as well–musicians who can write novels, poets who can write memoirs, actors who can paint. Having a range of interests and talents has helped me not get stagnant. It gives me a sense of creative freedom, and also permission to experiment.   

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?

Ugh. I have such a bad writing routine most of the time. But the important thing is that I stick to it and I do have stretches when I can be focused and GSD. That stands for "Get Shit Done" and at the end of the day, that's what gives me satisfaction, whether it's writing, editing, collaging, stuff at work, etc. The name of the game is GSD.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

Reading is the main kickstarter. It wakes up my brain and gives me ideas, especially poetry or a good disjointed lyric essay or something like that. Sometimes a good walk can do the trick too. Late night collaging can also inspire.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

Sometimes, when my cat, Susan, yawns, I lean in to smell her cat breath, which I find so cute and comforting. I love her that much. 

The smell of baking brownies is probably a close second.

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?

Art for sure. Collages especially. I am obsessed with collage art and have made a whole new world of friends in that world over the past few years. You could look at some collage art and probably transcribe it into poems. And yes, I've always loved music. And movies too! Good, slow movies about people. I don't really like action or superhero movies. 

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

Early favorites like Richard Brautigan, Diane Williams, Garielle Lutz, Gordon Lish, Larry Brown, and Mark Leyner were key to my enthusiasm for writing and reading. There were also a lot of British music writers I enjoyed a great deal, before I was even a serious reader in my twenties. A lot of friends of mine are writers I am constantly inspired by as well: Kimberly King Parsons, Miriam Toews, Zachary Schomburg, Caren Beilin, Shane Kowalski. Plus the brilliant graphic novelist Daniel Clowes. 

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

I'd love to have a book reviewed in Entertainment Weekly or record an album of Prince covers.

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?

I didn't go to college, so I always imagined myself working at a factory or something. I think being a mailman would be kind of cool. Or a third string quarterback in the NFL, so I could make a lot of money and probably never have to play in a real game. Working at a bookstore isn't bad though.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

I wasn't smart enough to go to college or brave enough to join the military. I wanted to be a radio DJ and I was for a few years before moving to Portland (in 1992). Working in the world of books was kind of an accident. I just ended up here and held on to it because it was rewarding in a nurturing and creative way. Not sure if that answered your question very well. What makes me write is the constant urge to create and make things.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

I really loved Someone Told Me by Jay Ponteri. It was published by a Portland small press so it might be hard to find, but it's an outstanding book of thoughtfully probing and beautiful lyric essays. My favorite film of last year was Marcel the Shell With Shoes On. It made me weep.

20 - What are you currently working on?

I'm working on a couple of Future Tense projects and a new group show at my virtual collage gallery, Sharp Hands Gallery. As far as writing, I'm working on a couple of essays, or maybe they're more like long conceptual poems. One is about things in Portland turning into other things and another one is about things I don't remember–like the opposite of Joe Brainard's I Remember.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;