The disabled poem-making entity known as
Roxanna Bennett gratefully resides on aboriginal land. As a settler, they thank the many generations of Indigenous people who have taken care of this land from beginningless time. They are the author of the award-winning poetry collection
Unmeaningable (Gordon Hill Press, 2019),
unseen garden (chapbook, knife | fork | book, 2018), and
The Uncertainty Principle (Tightrope Books, 2014).
1 – How did your first book or chapbook change your life?It made me realize that publishing a book was not going to magically fix my issues and illustrated how fixated I was on that idea. It was, in short, the most anti-climactic experience of my life.
How does your most recent work compare to your previous?I don’t know, I don’t compare my work to my work.
How does it feel different?I used different words….I’m not sure I understand this question.
2 – How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?I had amassed more poetry than fiction or non-fiction to begin submitting to publishers.
3 – How long does it take to start any particular writing project?It depends on the project. Sometimes years, sometimes instantaneously.
Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process?The initial writing, once I am able to sit down to it, often comes quickly but reshaping and editing and finalizing can take years.
Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?It depends on the pieces. I enjoy unwriting my work as much as I do writing it, I will create dozens of iterations of the same poems and pieces and rearrange them ceaselessly until someone forces me to publish.
4 – Where does a poem usually begin for you?At the first line? I don’t understand this question.
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?My first book was an “everything and the kitchen sink” where I threw all the pieces I had into a book shape, the others are intentionally books from the beginning.
5 – Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process?I cannot for the life of me figure out what readings have to do with writing books. I am terrified of public speaking and have weak throat muscles and therefore, weak vocal cords. Public readings are torture. Exercises in humiliation. And have, until the pandemic, usually taken place in spaces that were inaccessible to me.
Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?I find them excruciating.
6 – Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing?I am often writing in response to other disabled poets. I read a lot of disability theory and works by Buddhists so some of that probably makes it into the work.
What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work?None. I have no answers and am continually trying to unlearn what I think I do know.
What do you even think the current questions are?I have no idea what other people wonder about.
7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture?I try to avoid larger culture, it’s boring and bad for my health.
Does s/he even have one?Entirely up to the individual.
What do you think the role of the writer should be?Whatever they think it should be.
8 – Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?I’ve done it so rarely that it’s still novel.
9 – What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?I like a lot of the Buddhist lojong slogans. Maintain an awareness of the preciousness of human life, be aware of the reality that death comes for everyone, be grateful to everyone, don’t expect applause.
10 – What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one?I can’t keep a writing routine because my health fluctuates so much that I try to live moment by moment as much as possible.
How does a typical day (for you) begin? Between 4 and 6 a.m. with pain.
11 – When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?Fortunately I have not experienced this yet.
12 – What fragrance reminds you of home?What do we mean by home?
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 don’t understand what McFadden meant. Everything I experience makes it into the work in some fashion. Cartoons, miniatures, collages, squirrels and blue jays, clouds, cardboard boxes, Victorian medical tracts, nursery rhymes, commercial jingles from the 70’s, prescription medication instructions, yoga teachings, meditation insights, moss and mycelium, comic books, horror movies, geology, gardening, breathing…
14 – What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?Pema Chodron,
Thich Nhat Hanh,
the Dalai Lama,
Brene Brown,
Alan Watts,
Diana Beresford-Kroeger,
Robin Wall Kimmerer,
Lewis Carroll,
Alan Moore,
Douglas Adams.
15 – What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?Die.
16 – If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be?Is this a legit occupation? Suck it, accountants!
Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?I’ve never felt as though I had a choice in the matter.
17 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?I literally can’t do anything else. I can barely do this.
18 – What was the last great book you read?I so rarely read books I would qualify as “great”.
Why Buddhism is True by Robert Wright is a good one, though.
What was the last great film?The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (the 1947 original, not the rubbish remake with whatshisname).
19 – What are you currently working on?Too many things! Myself most of all.
12 or 20 (second series) questions;
