Tia McLennan’s (she/her) poetry has appeared in various
Canadian literary journals including Riddle Fence, Vallum, Arc,
CV2, Room, and Prairie Fire. In 2022, she won the NLCU
Fresh Fish Award for her unpublished poetry manuscript. Her first book of
poetry, Familiar Monsters of the Flood is forthcoming in April 2024 with
Riddle Fence Publishing. She holds an interdisciplinary MFA in creative writing
and visual art from UBC Okanagan, and a BFA from Nova Scotia College of Art and
Design University. Originally from so-called Vancouver Island, B.C., (territory
of the K’ómoks people), she gratefully resides in kalpilin (Pender Harbour),
B.C. with her partner, their 6 year old son and a big cat named Basho.
1 - How did your first book
change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How
does it feel different?
As I write this, my first book has
yet to be born (forthcoming in April 2024) so I can’t answer this question
completely. Even so, having a soon-to-be book, there have already been some
doors opened that weren’t before. I still haven’t fully adjusted to the idea
that something I’ve been working on for so long in relative privacy will be out
in the world and I’m curious to see how everything will unfold!
2 - How did you come to poetry
first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I was drawn to poetry early
on…in Junior High and high school. I remember writing very young and
wonderfully terrible poems. As a prize for getting a high mark in English Lit
12, my teacher gave me a copy of William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and of
Experience. It was the first time I felt that deep magic of connecting with
a poet through time and space and it kind of got me hooked. There’s a certain
freedom in poetry—it can come in so many shapes and forms and is always
evolving. I have a background as a visual artist and for me, visual art seems
more closely related to poetry than other genres; I find the two speak to each
other.
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 don’t think I can properly
answer this one yet, as I’ve only just started my second project. With my first
project, it took me 2 or 3 years to realise I was writing a book, then another
12 years (including an MFA and much learning, starting, stopping, and revising)
to finish it. There are a few poems that come out fully or almost fully-formed,
but most come out of many notes, revisions, and edits.
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?
My first book was certainly a
case of many shorter pieces coming together into various poems and a complete
manuscript over a long period of time. I have notebooks filled with fragments
and thoughts, and these are usually the seeds that I grow into something more
substantial. My second project that I’m currently working on has been a book
from the beginning with an overarching theme—a new way of working for me, and
it’s outside my comfort zone, a bit counter-intuitive.
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 (even
though I get pretty nervous). I like connecting with people and finding how the
poem can subtly shift depending on how I read it and the tone of the room.
During the creation phase, I don’t really think about readings. I do try to
read my work out loud once in a while in order to properly hear the rhythm and
sounds of a piece, but I don’t start thinking about sharing my work with an
audience until it’s time for it to be published. So overall, I’d say it’s part
of the process though not in an immediate or conscious way.
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 my forthcoming book, there
are quite a few questions and/or theoretical concerns that drive the poems.
Certainly there is a mix of ecological grief, fear, and a touch of hope which I
think is a common concern or question of our time. The human-ecological predicament
that (at least for me) permeates the book is “can we come back from our current
course toward ecological disaster?” I don’t know if anyone can really answer
this. I think, increasingly, we’re realizing we live in a time of multiple crisis.
I mean, our world has been watching a genocide be livestreamed and very little has
been done to stop it. We’re also in a time when systems of oppression (such as
colonialism) are being more openly questioned, resisted, or dismantled and I
see this reflected through what many writers and artists are grappling with in
various ways. On a more personal level, my book investigates my relationship
with my father, his illness and passing, and ghosts of intergenerational
trauma. The other concern that became central to the book was learning about
maternal-fetal microchimera. This is the scientific term for the exchange of
DNA through the placental barrier between the mother or birth parent and fetus.
Essentially (as a birth parent) your unborn child’s cells take up residence in
your body and are able to graft themselves into almost any organ and become
physically part of you, giving you more than one set of DNA and essentially
changing your body. The etymology comes from the Greek mythical monster known
as the Chimera (a female hybrid monster with the head & body of a lion, a
head of a goat and a tail that ended in a snake’s head). This exchange of cells
happens even if there is no live birth. After I experienced six consecutive
miscarriages, I became fascinated by the implications and unanswered questions
in this scientific area, as well as in the medical language itself. I like how this
phenomena undermines the idea of a singular, contained self. I also went down
plenty of rabbit holes regarding the myth of the Chimera, and in our creation
of modern-day “monsters”, and these concerns found their way into poems.
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 don’t see writers having a singular
role, but some possible roles or things that writers can do that come to mind
are: to notice, pay attention, listen, reflect, resist, bear witness, restore, give
voice to, challenge, entertain, celebrate. I also think a lot about being a
writer (and a teacher) in this epoch where misinformation abounds, while AI
(which steals from original creators) and Chat GTP rapidly change the communication
landscape—so I’m curious to see how the role of writer will shift and adapt.
8 - Do you find the process of
working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
So far, in my limited
experience, it’s been essential and wonderful. The editors I’ve been lucky to
work with have provided excellent insights and direction without being
overbearing or insistent. Sometimes an editor will give feedback and it will
totally ring true, but it means the poem has to fall apart and be rebuilt. This
can be difficult, but has always resulted in a stronger piece of writing.
9 - What is the best piece of
advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
It was from a visual artist
friend of mine and it was simply to continue. There’s usually plenty of
rejection and can be a lot of interruption (especially as a parent) on the
creative path. To find even small ways to continue and move forward is the
advice I continue to give myself.
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?
I have no real routine and wish
I could be more disciplined in this department. I currently work as a teacher
on call three days a week and have a couple of days dedicated to writing. I’m
also a parent of a very active & freedom-loving almost 6-year-old, so life
is busy. On my writing days, I drop my son off at school and then do my best to
get at least 3-5 hours of writing/reading/research done. I often get
side-tracked by gardening, house work and/or life admin tasks. If I’m working
full time, there’s virtually no time to write and I rely on sporadic moments or
once in a while stay up late to get some words down.
11 - When your writing gets
stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word)
inspiration?
I think it’s important when I
do truly feel stuck, to give the writing and myself a break from each other and
I usually just read until I can catch the spark or impetus again. I’ll return
to some writers that continue to be a compass for me (whether it’s poetry or
other genres) and will often seek out new (to me) writers. Also, being in
nature, moving my body, or having a visit with a good friend can all help shift
my frame of mind.
12 - What fragrance reminds you
of home?
Cedar, seaweed, fried onions
and garlic, coffee.
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 totally agree to a certain
extent. As a writer, I think I’ve learned the most about craft and voice through
reading others’ work. So books remain the biggest influence and I love the
object of them, but influences come from endless sources. We (or most of us)
live in this constant deluge of information, which is both miraculous and
nightmarish—this aspect of our world certainly influences my writing. Being out
in nature and our view of and relationship to “nature” absolutely is something
I question through my poems. My forthcoming book relies on found text from
medical records, and I am interested in scientific language—its etymology and
sounds. My background and schooling is in visual art and I find writing and art
making are very much connected for me, not in the ekphrastic sense, but in how the
two creative processes play off each other.
14 - What other writers or
writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
There are many! To name a few
and in no particular order: Liz Howard, Tomas Tranströmer, William Blake, Natalie Diaz, C.D. Wright, Joan Didion, Joshua Whitehead, Seamus Heaney, Karen Solie,
Jordan Abel, Adrienne Rich, Mary Ruefle, Sue Goyette’s Ocean, Alan
Weisman’s The World Without Us, Brenda Shaughnessy, Ocean Vuong, Canisia Lubrin, Emily Dickinson, Tracy K. Smith’s Life on Mars, Louise Glück, Leah Horlick.
15 - What would you like to do
that you haven't yet done?
There’s a long list that includes
travel to distant lands. But my current daydream/obsession is to try and grow
shiitake mushrooms on inoculated logs.
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?
Botanist, horticulturalist, gardener.
I do currently have a job as a teacher, a profession I really love, but being
paid to be outdoors with plants would be pretty dreamy.
17 - What made you write, as opposed
to doing something else?
First I did something else. That is,
I went to art school (Nova Scotia College of Art and Design) for my undergrad.
I’d always written but never took it seriously. When my father was ill and
after he passed, I had time to reflect and basically decided to turn my
creative focus toward writing. My MFA from UBCO was interdisciplinary—in visual
art and creative writing, though I ended up leaning more toward the creative
writing. I still loosely keep up a visual art practice
(drawing/painting/printmaking/collage), it’s still important to me, but writing
became more essential, a more direct channel of expression.
18 - What was the last great
book you read? What was the last great film?
Too hard to name just one! I read
Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous in the past couple years
and was incredibly moved. I’m currently immersed in (and in awe of) Canisia
Lubrin’s Code Noir, Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass,
and Danielle Vogel’s A Library of Light. I absolutely loved the film Everything Everywhere All at Once, directed by Daniel Kwan and Daniel
Scheibert—it had me laughing so hard I was in tears.
19 - What are you currently
working on?
I’m working on a
hybrid book rooted in non-fiction, and memoir. It’s based on and from the place
myself and my family have recently returned to live—Garden Bay, kalpílin
(Pender Harbour), B.C., unceded territory of the shíshalh nation. This is where
my father retired to in 2003, and then sadly passed away from cancer in 2006.
I’m interested in the history (recent, colonial and pre-colonial), and want to
pay specific attention to the capture and subsequent sale of half a pod of
northern resident orcas from Garden Bay in 1969. Writing from a time and place of
ongoing drought, I’m questioning and thinking about my (and our) relationship
with the land and waters and wondering how we will navigate climate crisis and move
toward a sustainable and just future.
12 or 20 (second series) questions;
