Wendy Trevino was born and raised in the Rio Grande
Valley of South Texas. She lives in San Francisco, where she shares an
apartment with her boyfriend, friend & two senior cats. She has published
chapbooks with Perfect Lovers Press, Commune Editions and Krupskaya Books. Brazilian no es una raza – a bilingual
edition of the chapbook she published with Commune Editions – was published by
the feminist Mexican press Enjambre Literario in July 2018. Her first
book-length collection of poems, Cruel Fiction, was published by Commune Editions in September
2018. Wendy is not an experimental writer.
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 chapbook (128-131)
came about in large part after my life changed in some pretty dramatic ways: I
had been “radicalized.” I had broken up with my husband, after being with him a
decade. I had made dozens of new friends. I had even participated in a
conference about revolution &/or poetry. So whatever changes came after the
publication of my first chapbook, they weren’t significant enough to really
cause me to notice.
Cruel Fiction is my first book-length collection of
poetry. Unlike my first chapbook, it is mostly serial sonnets—60 comprise the
last 2 sections of the book. The first section, however, takes its title from
my first chapbook (128-131). Still,
there are only a few poems from my first chapbook that made it into the book—of
course, 1 of them is the titular poem (pretty much) “From Santa Rita: 128-131,”
which is a list poem about a couple of days in a jail after being arrested at a
demonstration with 400 other people.
The poems in my first chapbook were mostly poems I’d written over
the course of less than a year (January 2012 – November 2012), whereas in my
first book-length collection, the poems were written over the course of 10
years—mostly between January 2012 & December 2017. The book definitely
feels more “finished,” the ideas / interests more “developed” / thought out.
2 - How did you
come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I hate to admit that my answer to this would be less than truthful
if it didn’t include the sentence: I’d met a man. It’s not uncommon for a young
woman to finally be able to believe in her own ability to do something when she
ends up with a man whose ability to do that same thing she believes in. Of
course, I didn’t know that then.
So, yes, there was this man who I started seeing & he started
writing poetry not too long after we started seeing each other. I’d wanted to
write for a long time before that, but I didn’t know what I wanted to write. I
had been a double-major in Philosophy & Political Science & I wanted to
write about the things I studied (as opposed to telling stories), but I knew
the essay wasn’t the right form for me. Essays made me too nervous—they still
do. Looking at the poetry my ex would bring home—poetry seemed flexible enough
that I started to think I might be able to figure out something / a way of
writing with / through it.
Also, when I started writing poetry, I dreaded nothing more than
having to look for a 9-5 job. I was hoping I could get into an MFA program
& get at least 2 years to read books & write, which sounded a lot
better than service work or an office job.
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?
So far ideas for projects have come to me suddenly & a good
chunk of the writing has come shortly / quickly after the idea. For example,
when I started writing the sonnets that make up “BRAZILIAN IS NOT A RACE,” the
first 15 sonnets (out of 30) came within a couple of weeks—all looking very
close to what they would look like when I finished the project (30 sonnets) 6 months
later. The last 15 sonnets, however, didn’t come together quite so quickly.
Well, 16-23 came quickly (over a week or so a few months after the first 15),
but then 23-30—I’d write a sonnet pretty quickly & then decide not to use
it & then write another sonnet—again, pretty quickly—& decide not to
use it & so on. I don’t know how I came to feel confident in the 15 sonnets
I chose for the second half of that sonnet sequence, but I did.
In general, though, poems come to me quickly & almost in their
“finished” form. When I do edit a poem, there tend to be few edits. There are a
couple of exceptions, but that’s mostly how it is.
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?
For me, a poem usually begins with a problem. Actually, there are
typically 2 problems. The first is almost always that I am scheduled to do a
reading & need (new) material. The second is often some social phenomenon
or social dynamic I’ve observed that I don’t but want to understand.
I haven’t been able to think beyond a 30-sonnet serial poem—&
even that I’ve only managed to do once. To be very honest, it has mostly been
editors (in 3 out of 4 chapbooks & 2 out of 2 books) who I’ve (known &)
trusted to combine shorter pieces of mine into a larger project.
5 - Are public
readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of
writer who enjoys doing readings?
Readings are 1 of the 2 main reasons I write—I appreciate them for
that, otherwise I find them very difficult to be a part of. I experience “stage
fright” pretty regularly. The first time I read in the Bay Area (where live
& spend most of my time), I started crying & my ex had to finish
reading the piece I’d written. I still get choked up during readings—almost
every time. I’m not a performer, but if I don’t force myself to do it, I won’t
force myself to write. I’ll just end up anxious / with writer’s block.
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?
There are things I’m obsessed with—like anti-racism & the
possibility of revolution. The social phenomena & social dynamics I notice
& that lead to me write are always related to one or both of these things. Sometimes
I am trying to answer a question or questions I have about this or that social
phenomenon &/or social dynamic, but more often I’m just trying to think
through a social phenomenon &/or social dynamic that stands out to me /
trying to figure out why it stands out to me / what the questions are that I
want to ask about it.
7 – What do you see
the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Does s/he even have
one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
If I am describing what I see as the role of the writer in the
United States, I’d say there are several & that the role of the writer
depends on the kind of writing they do. There are novelists & poets. There
are screenwriters & writers who write for television shows. There are
journalists who write for newspapers, magazines, websites. There are writers
who write scholarly books & articles for publication in journals. There are
playwrights. There are professional writers that write user’s manuals of all
kinds. There are professional writers who write copy for advertisements &
contribute to things like annual reports. There are professional writers who
work in Development & write letters to donors, annual appeals & grant
proposals.
I work for a nonprofit in Development & write grant
proposals—that’s what pays the rent & bills. I’ve known a lot of writers
who write poetry & are adjunct professors. What I’ve noticed: in general,
they’re paid & treated horribly by the universities & colleges they
work for. My job as a Grant Writer has so far seemed to pay a lot better &
be a lot more reliable.
I would love it if people could write whatever & whenever / as
much as they wanted without ever having to take on the title of “writer” &
serve in that role for projects that aren’t their own & that they need to
be at least somewhat permanent in order to pay their rent & bills. I guess
this is also to say I wish capitalism didn’t determine so much about our culture.
8 - Do you find the
process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I haven’t found working with editors difficult at all, in large
part because I’ve only worked with editors who I really like as people &
have felt very supported by. As a matter of fact, the majority of what I’ve
published wouldn’t exist without those editors. I have mostly felt too
overwhelmed by the idea of putting a bunch of my writing together & calling
it a chapbook or book & have needed an editor to hold my hand (so to speak)
through that process, which is to say that editors have played a huge (&
yes, essential) part in most of what gets recognized as my work.
9 - What is the
best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
Actually, today my boyfriend was watching something on YouTube
about making films & the person speaking said something like, “You want to
see what you can get away with [creatively],” in relation to movie audiences. I
don’t know a lot about film-making, but I’d say, when it comes to writing, I
think that’s the best advice I’ve heard.
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 try to write almost every night for the 2 weeks before I’m
scheduled to read somewhere. I’m not doing that right now because I’m reading
more than usual, with the recent publication of Cruel Fiction & all. I think I will probably try to write again
sometime in December, when things slow down a little.
A typical day for me begins with me waking up to my cat trying to
make room for himself next to me in bed. Then I sit in bed for a while &
check Facebook & Twitter & then I take a shower & get ready for
work & clean a little before I drive 15 minutes to “the office.”
11 - When your
writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better
word) inspiration?
I smoke weed & watch movies / documentaries & write
whatever comes to mind while I’m watching. It’s usually bad, but I learned a
long time ago that I’ve got to write a lot of bad stuff before anything good
comes of it.
12 - What fragrance
reminds you of home?
White Linen by Estee Lauder.
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 definitely feel like my books inform my books, but so does riot
porn, if I’m being honest, & music & movies—especially documentaries.
& collective struggle.
14 - What other
writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of
your work?
Women, Race & Class,
by Angela Davis, & “Rape, Racism & the White Women’s Movement,” by
Alison Edwards (http://www.sojournertruth.net/rrwwm.pdf) & “From Servitude to Service
Work: Historical Continuities in the Racial Division of Paid Reproductive
Labor” by Evelyn Nakano Glenn are 3 texts I wish every anti-racist feminist
would read.
There are entirely
too many writers who are important to my work & life to name, really, but I
do want to also mention the writer & translator David Rojas & all the
writers involved with Enjambre Literario—but especially Brenda Navarro. David
translated my chapbook “BRAZILIAN IS NOT A RACE” & an interview I did with
Chris Chen “Mexican Is Not a Race” (published by The New Inquiry) into Spanish & Enjambre Literario published it
in the summer. It means the world to me that Brazilian no es una raza exists & I’m so appreciative of all the work
that David & Brenda & the other writers at Enjambre Literario have done
to promote it.
15 - What would you
like to do that you haven't yet done?
Abolish the police. Abolish prisons. Abolish the carceral state.
Abolish borders.
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?
I would run an animal sanctuary.
17 - What made you
write, as opposed to doing something else?
Best guess: I was an only child, with overprotective parents, who
loved reading & sucked at competitive sports. & I had really nice
handwriting, which teachers confused for a talent for storytelling so I got a
lot of encouragement.
18 - What was the
last great book you read? What was the last great film?
I can’t stop watching OJ:Made in America—that 7 hour documentary ESPN put out as part of their 30
for 30 series. I don’t think I’ve ever liked a film this much before.
19 - What are you
currently working on?
