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?
My first book, While the Kettle’s On (Little Balkans Press, 2015) was published by my high school teacher’s small press. That teacher, Al Ortolani, is the reason I became a high school teacher, and it was an honor for his press to approach me about publishing. I’d written for more than a decade before that book, and it had honestly never occurred to me to put a book together before that. I used to downplay my writing as a hobby, and this helped get me to take myself more seriously and send out my work.
2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I actually thought I would be more interested in fiction. In 2001, I took an intro creative writing class in college, and I figured I’d suffer through the poetry unit. Instead, the teacher, Laura Lee Washburn, who is a wonderful poet, became my mentor and dear friend. She’s the reason I fell in love with poetry. I honestly think I’d have a completely different life if I’d never met her.
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 know poets who publish a book every year or two, and while I admire that, I also know that will never be me. During the school year, I focus more on revision (I revise a LOT, to answer that question) and sending work out. In the summers, I focus on writing new work. I usually take a class or two to keep me focused and engaged.
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?
Sometimes I’m lucky enough to feel moved to write a poem, but usually it’s a less romantic process than all that. I schedule time to write. I read poems and journal to warm up, and then I try not to be critical while I’m in creating mode. (There’s plenty of time for that later, when I’m revising!)
I never write with a book idea in mind; I just write poems. After several years, when I have enough poems I feel proud of, I start thinking about how they could fit in a collection.
5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I enjoy readings, but I wouldn’t call them part of or counter to my creative process. They often feel celebratory, especially when they’re in my hometown and I’m reading with other dear poet friends.
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 the high school creative writing classes I teach, we discuss the difference between writing something that’s purely for ourselves—like journaling—vs. something we hope others will see. My students sometimes initially cater their writing to others too much—they write vague poems that they hope anyone will relate to. I tell them when they do that, it’s more likely that no one will relate to them, because there’s nothing to hold onto. I tell them to write their own stories, the ones no one else could write. And then what they write is gorgeous, and they really do relate to each other’s work. I think about this when I worry that confessional poetry is self-indulgent. And I also think about how many women writers—Sharon Olds, Lucille Clifton, Anne Sexton, Mary Oliver, etc., etc.—have been dismissed for writing their own experiences.
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?
When I’m feeling confident, I understand that we write to feel seen, and we read to see others. It’s the most beautiful mode of communication, and it’s healing. It’s important.
8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
When it’s the right editor, I love working with one! I sent my second full-length book (Green, by Courtney LeBlanc’s wonderful new press Riot in Your Throat) to my poet friend Erin Adair-Hodges before it was published, and her comments were incredible—insightful, generous. She saw what I couldn’t because I was too close to it. The book is infinitely better because of her.
9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
We should focus more on the process than the product. I became a much happier person when I learned to do that. Or rather, when I remembered to do that. The purest writing experience of my life was in the summer of 2002, when I was twenty and writing my first terrible poems. But I didn’t feel self-conscious because I didn’t know they were terrible. I just knew I was depressed and that writing (and reading—I read every one of Sharon Olds’ books that summer) was saving me. A decade later, when I was considerably better and sending work out, I knew enough to be intimidated and self-conscious. I couldn’t write a poem without worrying where I might try to publish it, and I compared myself to much more accomplished writers. It was an awful approach to creating, and it made me miserable. Now I feel like I’m much less ambitious and goal-oriented. I know I don’t want to be famous, so what’s the goal? Where’s the finish line? I don’t know, and I actually think that’s a big relief. I just know that I love writing, and now I write for the pleasure of it. And I remember that my value as a person has nothing to do with what I’ve accomplished (or haven’t accomplished) as a writer.
10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to collaboration)? What do you see as the appeal?
I pretty much write poetry exclusively, so I don’t think I have an answer to this one.
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 don’t write every day, but when I do carve out a few hours to write, I try to make it special. I love to go to my favorite downtown coffee shop, and I’m especially pumped when a seat behind the window is open. I go slowly—read a few pages of a poetry book, look out the window, take a sip. Wait for an idea. It’s OK if an idea doesn’t come, and I just journal that day. I used to put pressure on myself, but I don’t anymore. I’m not a machine, and I’m not trying to crank poems and then books out to sell. I’m making a writing life.
12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
A poet friend once told me that the not writing is part of writing, and that changed how I think about those droughts. I used to sort of panic and figure I would never write anything again. Now I let myself focus on other aspects of my life. Sometimes my writing is stalled because I’m exhausted from teaching, and that’s OK. But if it’s the summer and I’m not writing and I really feel the urge to, I’ll take an online class, and that usually gets me right back into it. And reading other poets’ work always gets me excited to create my own.
13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
I really love my quiet house with the scents that come from deliberate living. Coffee in the morning, wine at night. My husband’s incredible cooking. Lavender dish soap. (I wash dishes by hand—the closest thing to meditating that I know.) Our dogs’ sweet subtle stink. Hanging laundry on the line to dry.
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?
Really, other poets influence me more than any other art form. Especially my friends. Their poems influence me, of course, but maybe even more than that our conversations. Our support of each other. Becoming friends with poets who’ve accomplished much more than I have actually helped me be less competitive. I understand how many of them have made sacrifices I haven’t. I understand what matters isn’t what we’ve accomplished but who we are.
15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
Sharon Olds is my all-time favorite poet. Others I love: Lucille Clifton, David Lee, Anne Sexton. Friends whose work I love, whose friendship has affected me deeply: Ruth Williams, Traci Brimhall, Leah Umansky, Marianne Kunkel, Hyejung Kook, Jenny Molberg, Erin Adair-Hodges, Allison Blevins, Josh Davis. I met Courtney LeBlanc when she published Green, and we’ve since become close friends. We actually roomed together at AWP! And of course my first mentors, Al Ortolani and Laura Lee Washburn.
16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
I don’t know! That might sound like a cop-out answer, but truly I would rather be open and see what happens rather than setting goals that might make me feel diminished if they don’t work out. The older I get, the less ambitious I am. I do love traveling and meeting people and writing poems I’m proud of, so I hope I get to keep doing all of that.
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 actually think my career as a high school teacher is the more profound one. I used to downplay being a high school teacher because “real” poets were professors, and now I let myself feel how this career moves me in ways that even being a poet doesn’t. I’m so lucky to love what I do and think it matters. (Also, I didn’t even want to be a professor; I just wanted to be a “real” poet with a “real” poet job.)
18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
I’ve written since I was a little kid. Journaled from the time I was twelve, wrote elaborate stories in elementary school. I’ve always loved it. And I’m so glad I found poetry in college, because that’s what I was meant to write.
19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
Honestly, the last great book I read was my former student’s creative thesis. Megan Munger was an exceptionally talented poet in high school, and I was honored that she sent me her Master’s thesis to read. I hope it’s published someday and everyone can read it.
I think the last movie I saw that I really loved was Coda. What a beautiful movie about how art can save us.
20 - What are you currently working on?
As always, just one poem and then another.
