A miscellany like Grandma’s attic in Taunton, MA or Mission Street's Thrift Town in San Francisco or a Council, ID yard sale in cloudy mid April or a celestial roadmap no one folded—you take your pick.
Hey, friends! So happy that we have an interview today with poet/artist/performer Barbie Angell. Barbie’s book of children’s poems, Roasting Questions (with her own illustrations & layout) is being issued through Grateful Steps in Asheville, North Carolina, & I’m really excited by this.
You can view Barbie’s book at this link to its dedicated website (& other links throughout the post!)—but not only can you view the book: you can pre-order your copy (or copies), & also sponsor the book to help raise money for the printing—Barbie explains that process in the following interview. I will say that this is a particularly good time to pre-order &/or sponsor, because Barbie recently received a $500 donation with the stipulation that the amount be matched during the following week, which runs from Monday 10/15 until Monday 10/22.
If you’re a regular reader here, you don’t need me to tell you how delightful, witty & downright fun Barbie’s poems & art both are. So here’s a chance to get to know this wonderful artist just a little bit better!
J: I’m so happy about Roasting Questions, & I know you are thrilled too. The publishing process through Grateful Steps, which is a publishing house in Asheville, may be unfamiliar to some readers—it’s a bit like Kickstarter isn’t it? Could you go over that so people get a feel for the process & how they can participate?
B: Absolutely. Shortly after Grateful Steps came to me about doing a book of children’s poetry, they became a non-profit publishing house. Because of this, they raise the money for printing costs from the pre-sales orders. Since people have been asking me for some time to sell audio files, prints of my art and such, I decided we could offer those as a Kickstarter-style incentive as well. There are a lot of fun extras starting at $1 and, as with Kickstarter, each level includes all the offers in the previous levels. I know that people are more likely to buy something they can hold right away and getting the pre-sales orders in as quickly as possible will help get the books in the hands of the readers that much sooner.
J:I have the advantage on many of the readers, because I at least know the broad outlines of how you began writing—& it’s a fascinating story. Could you tell us a little about that, & specifically, when you first knew you wanted to be a writer?
B: I always wrote songs as a child, parodies actually, but I never wrote poems. I wrote puppet plays too and I’m certain that Broadway producers would love to get their hands on the original script of Raggedy Andy and Square Bear. When I was 13, I went to Mooseheart, a school for children who had no place else to go.
My first Christmas there I was given a diary, and since a diary is not really a safe place for ones thoughts in an institution, I used it to write poetry. While I struggled with punctuation and other English composition rules, I excelled at creative writing. Often my teachers would ask me to read my stories to the class and, as a senior, I won my first award for writing a Memorial Day speech.
When I went to college I was pre-law. I had wanted to be a lawyer since I was 6 years old. I know, straight from ballerina to lawyer, I was an odd child. My theater director was also my advisor and, after making myself quite known on the campus with my “How to” paper in English 101, my advisor sat me down for a serious talk. I thought it was because I had taken the standard assignment and caused controversy. My paper was entitled “How to abstain from having sex on a date.” In fact, he wanted to convince me to change my major. He felt that if I could make myself so well-known, on a campus with over 500 students, by merely not taking the easy route and writing the typical “How to make ramen noodles in a 4-cup coffee maker,” then I really had no choice but to become a writer. That man, Jerry Dellinger, would go on to make certain that I did realize what my passion was. He stood behind me and urged me forward, as he so often did when I acted in his plays. In essence, he directed my life. . . and I think he did a pretty excellent job.
J:It’s safe to say that anyone with your talent for children’s poems must have read a lot when she was young. Please tell us about a few of your own favorite books from childhood!
B: My favorite books when I was a child were all of them. I was allowed to stay up late if I was reading and I was always reading. Anytime a subject fascinated me, I read about it. Reader’s Digest usually sparked my interest in new topics—for instance, I remember my mother being rather disturbed when I started reading everything I could about the holocaust. I didn’t know at the time that her family was Jewish and it seemed a bit harsh for a seven year-old, but there I was, learning all I could. I’m often told that even my children’s poetry has an introspective side to it that hints at something deeper. I think that’s because I was so determined to learn about all aspects of life, not just the happy stories that my friends read. Of course, I was an enormous admirer of Shel Silverstein. I knew most of his poetry, and a great many of his songs, by heart. I wrote rhyming songs all the time, often in the meter of his work. My other big influence was Lewis Carroll. I completely related to the idea of a girl falling into her imagination. His wordplay and obscure references always entertained me. I think he and Dr. Seuss are two of the best at creating nonsense language that makes perfect sense. While I don’t do a lot of that anymore, I used to incorporate quite a few nonsense words into my work. I am such an admirer of Lewis Carroll, that my writing room is full of Alice memorabilia and the walls have Wonderland murals painted on them.
J:Many people who read your poems are struck by your use of personification—you use abstract qualities as “characters” & “objects” in ways that really bring them to life—one of your greatest strengths as a writer. Do you have any ideas on why this particular technique is so prominent in your writing?
B: One of my favorite books as a child was Little Pilgrim’s Progress, by Helen Taylor. In fact, it’s one of the few things I still have from my childhood. It was based on John Bunyan's story and all the people in the book were named for their most obvious characteristic. Children named Obstinate and Pliable. A city named Destruction. I think this is where I first associated with the personification that I’m sort of known for in my writing. I’ve also always been mesmerized by language. Common sayings like “holding a grudge” take on an entirely new meaning for me. I like to take a different view whenever I can.
J:You also illustrated Roasting Questions. I love your eye for color & the way your drawings both focus on one aspect of the poem & also create a whole other world of imagination thru their detail. Could you talk a little about your illustrations—about the process & the techniques? Do you ever start a poem from a drawing, or is it always the other around.
B: I call my work “refrigerator art” because it’s the sort of thing a mom would hang on her fridge. The scenes usually have a sun in the corner, a tree and something else. Kind of like a child’s drawing would. My older brother and younger sister are brilliant artists. I felt I could never achieve what they can, so I looked at things from a different angle and tried to create my own style. I have only ever drawn one piece which inspired a poem from me. It’s the art and poem for the Hop Ice Cream Cafe. All the others I struggled to find just the right way to accent the poem with the art. I have incredibly high standards for my own work. I don’t seek perfection in anything I do, but I always try to do my very best. J:I know you consider Shel Silverstein to be a major influence. What do you think you’ve learned from his poems that has carried over to your own?
B: I do consider Shel to be a major influence. I think he & I have something very strong in common in the way we address our audience. People tell me all the time, and always have, that my work reminds them of Shel’s. When I actually read his poems though, we sound nothing alike. The similarity, I think, is that neither of us really wrote for children. I don’t have them in mind as an audience I need to please when I write and I don’t think he did either. And I think that is the best way to write for children. When I perform a children’s show, I’m always terribly nervous. They aren’t going to laugh if I’m not funny. They won’t pay attention if I’m not interesting to them. They don’t respond positively to condescension. Because of that, I think that trying to write to please them would be an insult to the purity and integrity they show to the arts. I’m not saying that they aren’t polite, just that they are more honest with their responses. When a child laughs, or thinks, or is mesmerized because of my words, that means far more to me than an adult having the same reaction because I know that I’ve worked harder to garner that response. Does that make any sense at all?
J:There are a lot of food references in your poems—what do you think about that? & more importantly, what’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?
B: There are a lot, aren’t there? I don’t know why that is. I’m not a big fan of food—I’m one of those people that can go the entire day without realizing that I haven’t eaten. My favorite flavors of ice cream are all from Hop Ice Cream in Asheville. The owner and ice cream creator Ashley Garrison has a way of taking her creations to the next level. . . and then the one after that. Salted Caramel is a given, but I also love everything she makes with coconut in it and I’m a huge fan of her Cannoli ice cream too.
Thanks so much for the interview & your participation in Robert Frost's Banjo, Barbie Angell! & once again, friends, do yourself a favor & order yourself a copy of Roasting Questions—& consider getting some of those lovely extras by sponsoring the process too!
Photos of Barbie Angell at her book launch show at Asheville's Altamont Theater are by Erin Scholze of Dreamspider Publicity & Events—thanks, Erin!
Happy Thursday, everybody! We’re here with the latest installment of Writers Talk, which is an interview with Robert Frost’s Banjo’s newest contributor, Nancy Krygowski. I’m excited about this one!
Poet Nancy Krygowski is an adult literacy instructor and was co-founder & poet booker for the Gist Street Reading Series. Her poems have appeared in Prairie Schooner, River Styx, Southern Poetry Review, 5 A.M., and other magazines. She is the recipient of a Pennsylvania Council on the Arts Individual Artist Grant and awards from the Academy of American Poets and the Association of Writers & Writing Programs.
In addition, Nancy’s book Velocity won the 2006 Starrett Prize & was published by the University of Pittsburgh Press. The University’s press release stated, “Poet Nancy Krygowski is a fresh, surprising voice that speaks for the intelligent heart in each of us,” while poet Gerald Stern, who selected Velocity for the Starrett Prize, described Nancy in this way, ““This is a wide-eyed, assertive, wild, well-read, street-smart, edgy, loving, suffering, heaven-crazed poet. It’s a joy to find her.”
If you’re a regular reader, you know that Nancy Krygowski has stepped in as the blog’s “Visiting Poet” while L.E. (AKA Dani) Leone is off on a series of jaunts. Based on Nancy’s first poem, “Moving Van,” (which you can read at this link) & this interview, I have to agree with Stern’s assertion that “it’s a joy to find her.” I’m very happy to have Nancy participating in the blog even on a temporary basis. Don’t forget: next poem by Nancy will appear next Tuesday, August 9th, & her poems will appear every other Tuesday alternating with regular contributor Barbie Dockstader Angell, for the next while!
& now—the interview!
When did you first realize your identity as a writer?
I grew up in a big, practical, Polish family, and though lots of reading happened in our house, I never thought that actual people wrote what we read. In college, I started to hang around people who identified themselves as writers, real live writers. This was a huge deal for me. I had written poems for myself since I was young but never even thought to show them to anyone. When I found these poets and fiction writers (Robert Frost’s Banjo’s Dani Leone was one), my world started to shift.
At first, hanging out with writers affirmed my identity as a reader—I thought of myself as an appreciator of their work. Then I got up the nerve to show my poems to my writer pals, and things started to change. They liked what they read, and I liked that. I was in graduate school in New Hampshire at that time, not for creative writing, and I brazenly showed some poems to Charles Simic to see if he would let me into a workshop. He did. That’s when I started to feel like a poet.
I struggle with my identity as a writer. Yes, I’m a poet, I know this, but writing poems is still, at least initially, something I do for myself. I get personal satisfaction from writing a poem that I like. I feel way more at ease identifying as a teacher because teaching is something I do for others. (I teach English as a second language, mainly to refugees, and specialize in teaching reading skills.) I get a larger, social satisfaction from that.
Describe the creative process involved in any one piece you’ve written—this could be book, a story, a poem, an essay, etc.
The most fascinating writing process for me was putting together the final draft of Velocity. I had gathered up poems and sent them out to book competitions and even got good responses, but I knew they weren’t working as a book. The poems weren’t bouncing off each other, speaking to each other enough. I showed the collection to a smart poet friend, and he asked the simplest question I hadn’t seriously considered: What is the book about?
I don’t usually think of poems in terms of about, like you do with novels or books of non-fiction. So I got on my living room floor and started making various stacks of poems. I stacked poems by content, by emotion, by length, by whether or not they contained swear words, anything to try to see the poems in new ways. I kept asking myself, What is it about? After many stacks, I made a conscious decision to use my sister’s death as the book’s backdrop, which meant cutting poems I liked, digging up and breathing life into some older poems, and writing new ones. I made the more intuitive decision to order the poems to recreate the feeling you have a few years after someone you love dies—you go on with life, but the death is always on your mind, sometimes staring directly at you, sometimes hovering as a feeling of loss that permeates how you see the world, that sense that something is always missing.
When I finished, I didn’t show the manuscript to anyone; I sent it off to competitions. I felt like the book would either be taken or I was going to give up (I had been at the process of sending out the manuscript for about 4 years), and at that point, I thought either end would be okay. I’m really, really happy things turned out as they did.
Could you describe your relationship to the publishing process? (this can be publishing in any form, from traditional book publishing to blogging, etc)
Damn. I know this sounds unprofessional, but honestly, I feel pretty disconnected from the publishing process. I’m awful at sending out poems to journals. It feels too impersonal, too distant, like I’m depositing little drips of thought into a very large and hard to find bucket. Publishing a book was much better—I felt a huge sense of accomplishment—but it made me confront the fact that part of publishing is self-promotion, which I suck at. I’m essentially an introvert. (See below.) Nevertheless, my favorite kind of ‘publishing’ is doing readings. I have a strong belief that poems should be heard, and though I write with an emphasis on sound and hope that readers can hear my poems on the page, I really like the immediacy of reading to listeners, of having the poems in my voice filling a room.
How has being a writer affected your relationships?
Writing has brought a lot of great people who are writers into my life: Dani Leone, Aaron Smith, Sherrie Flick, Neno Perrotta, Terrance Hayes. But writing makes me a pretty serious introvert. (Or being an introvert made me a writer and trying to get the work of writing done makes me more of an introvert?) In either case, because I am a slow, often unfocused writer, I need lots of time alone to create anything. I need silence. I need to read and stare and listen to people on buses. I need to take walks by myself. I go interior and I don’t want to talk. I have months of not seeing my dear friends. Writing hasn’t helped my social life.
I’m married to an engineer—a very eclectic, wonderful, engineer—and writing plays a very small role in our relationship. Tom seems to like the idea that I’m a writer (I can’t say for sure if he’s ever read my book) maybe only because that gives him time alone to read whatever geeky stuff he reads. The truth is, I like having the perspective that writing is simultaneously hugely important and not important at all. My marriage helps me remember that. My husband’s at work making decisions that will affect whether or not people get clean water, and I’m spending some mornings wondering if I can use the word giggle in a poem. I never want to take myself too seriously as a writer; this helps.
How would you describe the community of writers you belong to—if any? This may be a “real” or “virtual” (in more than one sense) community.
Right now, my main community is my dear, old friend Dani Leone (see her sweet response to this question) and my wonderful poetry students at Pittsburgh Center for the Arts. Dani and I write for each other each week (though she’s behind). I love her wild, sturdy, beautiful writing and am committed to our pact of making sure it comes into the world.
My poetry students inspire me with their joy, their willingness to be pushed and to share, and with all they have to say in their poems and to each other. They make me happy about poetry. (In fact, I’m using my RFB posts to showcase what I create from the prompts I give them.) Also, I’m lucky to have great poet friends like Aaron Smith and Lois Williams to turn to when I need smart poetic eyes and serious edits, plus other writing and visual artist friends who I can talk to about creating in general.
What are your future goals in terms of writing?
I’m working on another manuscript, and my goal is to have a draft done in the next few months. I’m just about at the point where I want to start making stacks on my floor, and that excites me.
Bonus Question: If your writing were a musical instrument, what would it be?
The metal slide you put on your finger and wiggle around to make those soulful, eerie steel guitar sounds.
Greetings! Thursday is upon us, & I’m so happy to say that we have a new installment of Writers Talk today, posting simultaneously (thu the magic of Blogger) both here & on the Writers Talk blog.
& a wonderful interview to get Writers Talk started back up, indeed—today’s guest is poet JoAnne McKay. Some of you may know Ms McKay from her blog Titus the Dog; she also has published two collections of her poetry. Both of these books are available directly from her blog.
JoAnne McKay was born in Romford, Essex in England, the fourth child of five & the only girl. Her father owned a slaughterhouse & wholesale butchers in Romford, which unusually began halal slaughtering in the 1960s to cater for the increasing Muslim population of south east London. She went to Bristol University, & then joined the Avon & Somerset Constabulary & latterly the South West Regional Crime Squad. Her police career took her on operations throughout the UK, & in Scotland she met a policeman she fell in love with. Fortunately, he fell in love back, & upon marriage JoAnne moved to a very small village in South West Scotland. She has two grown-up stepchildren & twin boys who are still at primary school.
JoAnne’s poetry & prose has been published in numerous literary magazines, both print and online. She has published two poetry pamphlets, The Fat Plant & Venti & has appeared at The London Poetry Festival, The Wigtown Book Festival & at Glasgow’s Aye Write literary festival. She is currently studying for an MLitt in Creative Writing at the University of Glasgow.
JoAnne McKay’s poetry evinces an eye for detail & precise image as evidenced in her two poems that accompany the interview (one from each collection—see the post below); these poems also show her versatility—contrast the more free verse narrative of “Diamond People” with the beautifully realized Italian sonnet, “The Magdalene Fleur-de-Lis,” & with the wonderfully reflective “Moment.”
& now—Joanne McKay!
When did you first realize your identity as a writer?
Aha! That old trick of starting with the hardest question first. I genuinely can’t answer this one. Tediously, my identity consists of so many more necessary things – wife, mother, daughter, sister, work colleague etc – I don’t identify myself as a writer. Possibly it’s yet to happen. I believe I have a coherent voice. It is more cerebral than emotional, meaning I spew my guts quite happily but do think hard about how I’m doing it.
Describe the creative process involved in any one piece you’ve written—this could be book, a story, a poem, an essay, etc.
I have a poem, ‘Moment’ which is about how I felt on seeing a lump of rock. The rock in question was an Olduvai Core, arguably the oldest artefact left by the first hominins, our ancestors in the homo genus. I had dreamed of seeing a Core for years, and back in the 1990s I wandered into the Royal Academy on Piccadilly in London to view a major art exhibition – Africa: the Art of a Continent. In the first room I saw a lit, glass cabinet and I could tell from a distance of 40 feet that there was an Olduvai Core on display. It was my Holy Grail, when I least expected it. For about 10 seconds I genuinely couldn’t breathe.
I wanted to capture the feeling of those seconds - my wonder, and the reason for it – in a poem. As I tend to the long narrative I deliberately set out to write a sonnet to keep myself brief and as focused as I had been when the incident happened. I always write to the Petrarchan form – abbaabba then the sestet cdecde – as I can’t be doing with the rhyming couplet at the end. It often sounds too pat to my ears.
And I struggled, and struggled, and realized I couldn’t do it. Nothing I was trying within the strict form was conjuring what I wanted. So I abandoned the sonnet idea, and wrote a short poem that ended with not one, but two of the rhyming couplets I so disdain!. It’s a poem I’m still very pleased with, and that’s something I rarely say. I suppose the important point is that it would not have come into being had I not worked and worked at it as a sonnet. Doing that crystallized the points which were most important. I’m usually an over-punctuator too, and this poem ended up without any. Sometimes what works is not what you least expect or aim for.
Anyway, here it is;
Moment
for a heartbeat there is no heartbeat
between the hominid and me
she holds it steady hand like mine
I hold it steadfast in my gaze
and will not look away till I can bear the weight
for this is it this rock
the birth of homo habilis who bears me
these two million years past imagine
what happens in her mind that makes her reason
if I hit this with that then other will result
and I can use it glass-cased before me
is the Olduvai Core of Prehistory
and I can’t use language in order to grasp
this the moment of the start of our past
Olduvai Core: Africa: The Art of a Continent, Royal Academy, December 1995 Could you describe your relationship to the publishing process? (this can be publishing in any form, from traditional book publishing to blogging, etc)
I only went ‘public’ with my writing three years ago, but now I enjoy being read and therefore I have to get work in view somehow. My blog is a favourite method, primarily because of the delicious immediacy. I do submit to magazines but have not yet got this to the art it should be – I have favourites, whose processes I understand, though I really could do with branching out more. But it’s such a faff remembering what you’ve sent where; I admire the writers who pursue this with more diligence than I do at present. I’ve also been anthologized, which is nice. I self-published my first two pamphlets and it really could not have been a more joyous ride.
The Fat Plant I did online, through Lulu, and I was very pleased with the result, reviews and sales. Venti was handmade, at home, on my own printer, and an enormous labour (really) of love. It’s had good reviews, and last month was runner-up in this year’s Callum Macdonald Memorial Award, administered by the National Library of Scotland, which was an honour and a surprise. And incredibly fattening – there was a huge dinner afterwards for the judges and shortlisted poets and publishers.
I’m not yet ready, or even in a position really, to begin the long slog of approaching publishers with a view to a collection. Primarily because my writing is not yet of sufficient quality. I’d like to feel I’m very good before I start down that road. A few years maybe.
How has being a writer affected your relationships?
In no way whatsoever that I can think of. This probably relates to my inability to answer the first question; I am JoAnne McKay, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, colleague all day. The writer only comes out long after midnight when everyone else is at work or in bed.
How would you describe the community of writers you belong to—if any? This may be a “real” or “virtual” (in more than one sense) community.
In one word, interesting. I am a member of Crichton Writers, which is closely affiliated to the University of Glasgow Crichton campus in Dumfries, and thus local to me. The group is made up of poets and prose writers of very different levels of experience, and meets monthly. I can usually get to one meeting in three. It’s a group that achieves things but it is also delightfully relaxed and encouraging, and I’ve made genuine friends amongst its members.
You can find us here.
The online community (and it does feels like a community to me) is also important – I’ve found poets I like and admire through my blog, and even better, I can communicate with them. It’s loose, fluctuating, incredibly informative and often very funny. I cannot think of a downside to it.
Finally, I live four doors away from a very fine Scottish poet, Hugh McMillan. He generously agrees to edit my work, and his wife Jane is my proof-reader. Brilliant community for me; I’m not sure what they get out of it!
What are your future goals in terms of writing?
It is the same goal as when I started. To write things I still like six months after they’re written.
All the nice stuff, like readings (which I adore) and getting published mean very little if you can’t achieve that. It happens to me only very occasionally at the moment.
Bonus Question: If your writing were a musical instrument, what would it be?
Whilst I’d love to say Jimmy Page’s twelve-string guitar, I’m afraid it’s probably more of a kettle drum. I am overfond of going for the big bang.
There was a shooting once in Bristol
on a brilliant shining august day.
Unsurprisingly, I can remember
the name of the killer: Crackhead Trevor.
The man who died?
His name? His name I have forgot,
but not his roles: jewellery shop manager,
victim, nor the golden hair still gleaming
on the remaining side of his head –
it was a shotgun job, you see.
And there were others too that blinding day
whose names… whose names I have forgot.
The woodentop, recently excised
from collator’s office where he had sat
amongst paper shadows and bad men’s names
for far too many informing years,
he had the brains to grab the witness
and drive her straightway to St. Pauls
to tour the area to see if he,
the suspect (name unknown then) could be found.
And that witness was a youngish woman
with a daughter dressed in sparkling blue
who she gave away to a passer-by
older woman, but stranger still
trusting child’s life to an unknown other
to seek the killer of an unknown man.
She found him, by the way, and I was there.
And we chased Trevor in our escort
and knocked him down and he got up
and we jumped out and ran and got him
and as I held him, found I was holding still
the cigarette lit as we left the scene
tiny comet trail sparks on bloody jeans.
Once he was safe at the station and swabbed
I returned to shining Park Street,
where the sunlight bouncing off the stone
made the whole rising street heavenly.
When another woman walked up to me
and handed over an eternity ring
worth fifty-seven thousand pounds,
and she looked so sad that a man had died,
so she did her bit, for this could be
important, unsoiled, evidence.
Trevor had been emptying his pockets as he ran
and in the following hazy days
many others, nameless now
handed us precious, shining jewels
whose glints made hard certain that we’d found
the route Trevor ran down to get to ground.
All these people, these good, good people
and the only name I can now recall
is that
of Crackhead Trevor.
Call me Iris. Call me Lily. Your flower.
I’ll keep the boys’ chins up in wartime,
French letters and kisses a lover’s mime
that only costs them three francs for an hour.
It’s memory of me that lends them power,
yellow flag on an azure bed through time
of all the symbol whores I reign sublime;
meanings bloom with every passing shower.
Bas-relief in Babylon, carried by kings,
my spear-head as sceptre shines divine right,
the splayed sepal structure inside me cries
to the Three-In-One whose salvation sings
from within to those who can hear the light:
I split as prism before your rainbowed eyes.
Stories: history—myths—dreams. The dreams we inhabit, either individually or collectively, & thru which we try to find our way; the dreams that seem to open into a larger reality & the dreams that enclose us; even the dreams we refuse to share & the dreams that threaten to destroy us. These dreams are the stuff of Jacqueline T Lynch’s fine ebook novel, Beside the Still Waters. The ebook, one of four published by Lynch, is available thru Amazon, Amazon UK, Barnes & Noble, & Smashwords. The Smashwords edition, it should be noted, doesn't require a Kindle or Nook; it can be read as a PDF or in other formats on any computer.
The novel is a family saga, following the Vaughn family of Massachusetts Swift River Valley from the turn of the 20th century until just before the onset of World War II. The family history is indeed compelling: the brothers John & Eli who almost enact a sort of Jacob & Esau story, but with the twist that in this case, neither wins the inheritance; their cousin Alonzo who clings to a doomed way of life & an obsessive love; & Eli’s high-spirited daughter Jenny, whose coming of age is a central focus.
But as much as Beside the Still Waters is a saga about a family, it’s also a saga about Massachusetts—about its Puritan past, on thru its wars with Native Americans & its own brief, late 18th century civil war, the Shays Rebellion; in fact this latter conflict, which pitted the farmers of western & central Massachusetts against the new state government & urban merchants, looms large as a backdrop to the novel’s own story.
That story involves the creation of the Quabbin Reservoir, which was completed in 1939. The Quabbin Reservoir is the largest inland body of water in Massachusetts, & is the primary water source for the city of Boston & much of the Boston metropolitan area. The Reservoir was one of the many large-scale public works of the 1930s, & an impressive undertaking from an engineering viewpoint. Its creation, however, caused the “discontiuation” (to use Wikipedia’s word) of four towns: Dana, Enfield, Greenwich & Prescott, all agricultural communities & all firmly ensconced in a 19th century world even as Massachusetts’ urban centers moved into the 20th century, with its electrification, cash economy, immigration & automobiles.
Beside the Still Waters then is also a fable about culture & its mutability. Early in the narrative, we read about a Native American who would make an annual pilgrimage to the Greenwich Cemetery:
The old man would come one day in the spring, and just sit there in the cemetery all day long, still and quiet, until the sun had set behind the Prescott ridge. Then he would leave, to return the next spring. This last was nearly twenty years ago. The old Indian was probably dead now…. “He gave me the shivers,” Sam had said, rubbing his hands together, “like he was saying, my people are gone. We thought we would be here forever, but now we are gone. So, don’t be too sure of yourselves, you can go this way too.”
We recall this anecdote later in the story as the old cemeteries of the four doomed towns are moved—bodies exhumed, markers uprooted—so that the human remains won’t contaminate the water. In the end, there are only ghosts:
Even fifty years later rumors would pervade to the effect that if one looked deep into the clear water of the reservoir during a period of drought when the water level was low, one could see whole houses standing there like bitter ghosts. It was not true. Only the ghosts were there.
The characters of Beside the Still Waters are indeed haunted: Eli Vaughn is haunted by the land of the Swift River Valley, specifically, his father’s Prescott farm, which he’s doomed never to inherit—even by the orchard he could never plant. That land also haunts his older brother who forsook his inheritance for urban life & a “fast” lifestyle, but who is inexorably drawn back to a landscape he can only possess thru the mediation of a camera lens. & the Prescott farm haunts Alonzo Vaughn, Eli’s cousin, who inherits it by default & whose bound to the land eventually becomes an obsessive & destructive bondage. He refuses to relinquish the farm (which, ironically, is not legally his) to the State, & continues to live there as a hermit as all the other residents inevitably sell out; in the course of this, the farm itself goes to ruin. Late in the novel, a kindly old doctor tries to make Alonzo see reason:
You’re doing terrible things to y’self, son. You’re going to be living here like an old ghost in a graveyard soon....” “The graveyards,” Alonzo said with a sneer, “are empty.”
Against the backdrop of this haunted generation, we have the character of Jenny Vaughn, who we watch from childhood thru early adulthood. She has “promise”—she is strong, both physically & mentally, intelligent & grows into an attractive young woman. The men of the older generation “read into” her—John Vaughn sees Jenny’s promise as a reflection of his own, which he threw away for drink; Eli sees Jenny’s willfulness not as a mirror of his own, but as a headstrong rejection of the heritage he holds so dear—her ambition to attend college seems selfish; & Alonzo sees her as a potential fantasy wife who will share his own fictionalized life in a world that no longer exists.
Beside the Still Waters is a great read: Ms Lynch has a thorough grasp of the historical back story, & the novel provides a fascinating narrative of the Quabbin Reservoir project. Ms Lynch also has a firm grasp of the New England landscape, both historical & natural—her descriptions of the fields & woodlands & towns are vivid & true. Consider this:
In every New England town it seems there is a hill, even if only metaphorically. At the top of this hill, there is a plain, white Congregational church. Pristine and quiet, painted and photographed, emblazoned upon Christmas cards and revered in the hearts ofeven New England Catholics, this architecture stands for New England the waycranberries and autumn foliage does. It has become a symbol. The gospel according toCurrier and Ives.
Lynch’s observation about the church is not only accurate in the most real sense, but also opens up the idea of symbolic landscape, which is so important to the narrative—how the landscape provides meaning, how it gives life & how it potentially can destroy us.
Lovers of historical fiction, of New England, or of just good writing will enjoy Beside the Still Waters. Lynch's style is clear & assured & highly readable; her background as a playwright certainly comes across in her facility with dialogue, & as I've mentioned, her descriptive skills & characterizations are strong. I recommend it!
Writers Talk returns this Thursday, & we are welcoming a most special guest to Robert Frost’s Banjo. I first met James Weeks in the early 1990s when he & I worked with a “major consumer goods manufacturer” headquartered in the Bay Area. In some ways, I think both James & I were “strangers in a strange land”—in the same year that he & his family moved to the Bay Area from St. Croix, I moved there from Charlottesville, VA. While the culture shock was certainly more intense for him, we both felt it. & I believe we were both indeed “strangers” in the world of the corporate U.S. where we found ourselves, in facing cubicles.
I’m happy to say that a warm friendship grew, based not only on shared ideas (& humor), but also on a willingness to welcome difference: James’ upbringing & experiences in the Virgin Island certainly were different than my upbringing & experiences in a rural Vermont community, & while I’d spent most of my young adult life in academia, he’d served in the army & started a family. But we shared a lot as well—an interest in diverse things, in good food (often searching Oakland's Chinatown for the perfect dumplings), in good humor, & in music generally & the guitar in particular. I’m very happy that James has agreed to participate in Writers Talk! Here’s a brief biography:
James Weeks is an award-winning photographer and writer with more than 19 years of experience. His writings have appeared in Parenting, the Virgin Islands Daily News, the S.F. Weekly and other publications. He is currently working on Across The King's River a documentary film that explores African spiritual and healing traditions. A native of St. Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands, Weeks is also a private pilot and a certified scuba diver. He currently lives in Oakland, California with his wife, Stephanie, and his three children, Malcolm, Diallo and Tulani.
Please check out James’ piece “House of Exile” both in the post immediately preceeding this & also on the Writers Talk blog! & now—here’s James!
When did you first realize your identity as a writer?
I loved to read as a child and I always had a facility for words. I’m somewhat embarrassed to say that I didn’t really consider myself to be a writer until I was hired as a reporter for a newspaper in St. Croix Virgin Islands. That was back in 1985. Working as a writer was the first job that I truly enjoyed. Though I eventually went on to work for other newspapers and magazines, my passion for writing left me for many years. I’m happy to say that my passion for writing has returned now that I’m working on my first documentary film, Across The King’s River.
Describe the creative process involved in any one piece you’ve written—this could be book, a story, a poem, an essay, etc.
I don’t have a process - I write from the heart. I do meditate every morning, however. As I meditate I pray that my writing might be useful for others. I don’t really write for myself. I write for the benefit of others - to move their lives forward in some way. At times, I visualize people that I long to have a conversation with. Much of my inspiration comes from the culture and spirituality of Africa - I also draw inspiration from nature and women.
Could you describe your relationship to the publishing process (this can be publishing in any form, from traditional book publishing to blogging, etc)?
The filmmaking process is daunting. I love it and hate it. One has to be somewhat crazy to consider trying to make it as a filmmaker. Yet, I feel that I have no choice. I love the battle. I like the fact that the odds are against me. The challenge inspires me to no end. Great inspiration comes from great difficulty. We become better by learning to embrace adversity.
How has being a writer affected your relationships?
It’s difficult. I believe in total commitment to one’s art. I believe part of each day should be dedicated to one’s craft. I also believe that we should be aware of our vision and our art 24/7. We can’t wait until we’re “in the mood” to write. My family isn’t always understanding. They think I’m “not really here.” They’re right about that. However, I strongly believe that visions and art allow us to live deeply again. We should never apologize for following our passions and for being dedicated. Despite the “hell” that one might have to go through, following our dreams ultimately make us better people. Richer on the inside, more aware of our own power - and ultimately happier.
How would you describe the community of writers you belong to—if any? This may be a “real” or “virtual” (in more than one sense) community?
I don’t belong to a community of writers, but I draw inspiration from the FB fans of Across The King’s River. They inspire me to keep moving forward and to keep my heart open. They remind me that creativity and wisdom are meant to be shared.
What are your future goals in terms of writing?
Not sure yet. I plan to write a companion book about the making of Across The King’s River. I’ll share all the insights I learned along the way. After that - who knows? A script for a feature movie? I’m open to anything.
Bonus Question: If your writing were a musical instrument, what would it be?
My address is Oliver Ave, Oakland CA 94605; I welcome cash, money orders, credit cards and flowers. Do not send ill will or personal problems—we strive to get our troubles locally. Several years ago, for example, an elderly woman in my neighborhood, who might be en route to hell, called the Oakland authorities and claimed I (of all people) was raising chickens in my backyard– something that immigrants and rural folks have been known to do. These days, I get my eggs from the supermarket just like everybody else.
Chickens are not welcome in Oakland. Neither are goats, roosters, ducks and pigs–the very creatures that remind me of home. Chickens played an important role in "Operation Breadbasket" –my ambitious project to become somewhat self-sufficient in food production. Besides chickens, Operation Breadbasket also called for growing organic vegetables and raising New Zealand rabbits for meat.
But "Operation Breadbasket" was about more than just food. Deep down, I think, I was trying to reconnect with my Caribbean roots. Chickens strut in and out of backyards back home, without a care in the world. And one of the things I miss the most about home is the sound of roosters crowing. Shouldn’t all beings awaken to this concert of nature?
My neighbors don’t seem to think so. We live on the same block but in different worlds, and sometimes these worlds collide. And when one isn't clashing on the outside, one clashes on the inside –often it's rooted in nostalgia but sometimes it's prompted by plain old guilt.
"When are you coming back to live?" asked the mother of a close friend the last time I went home to visit. "Are you going to stay away while outsiders come in and take over the island?" She wasn't joking; she was visibly upset and wanted an answer.
This badgering went on for several minutes. I felt like I and other expatriates were being blamed for the islands' woes. I didn't know what to say. "I'll be back," I finally said sheepishly. But honestly –I don't know when. I'm married, and I have a family. When making decisions I have to think about the welfare of five people. Maybe I'll return to live when I retire or when the kids are in college, I sometimes tell myself.
Nostalgia, however, has to be weighed against economic, political, social and cultural realities, and sometimes the realities conspire against you. The Virgin Islands are in dire economic straights, salaries are low and we have mounting social problems just like anywhere else. Yet I still feel the ancestral pull....and the years passing.
A happy Thursday, dear readers! As advertised, today we have Writers Talk, & this is someone with a refreshing & to my mind, quite unique take on the writing biz.
As has been the case with several of the writers involved in this series, I’ve gotten to know Barbie Angell on Twitter, where I find her humor & her perspective on the world & its quirkiness to be both compelling & entertaining. As I came to know Barbie a little better, I began exploring the poetry on her blog, & was delighted to find a fresh & unique voice, chockful of wit & demonstrating a sparkling facility for rhyme & rhythm— undervalued skills in "poebiz" these days. Here’s a brief writerly biography:
It has been said that if Shel Silverstein & Dorothy Parker had conceived a child, the result would have been Barbie Dockstader Angell. Razor wit & simple rhyming verse combine to create an innovative style. Barbie has named it “poetry for the common man.” (Although she does have plenty of women readers as well.) Bitter, satirical, humorous & sometimes brutally honest, her portfolio contains everything from rhyme to free verse, children’s and adults, as well as short stories.
Barbie was raised in Illinois & has lived in the Asheville area since 1999. She has been writing since 1986 and has won awards both academically and artistically for her poems & short stories. Barbie has been published in small press books, magazines & newspapers throughout the years & has performed her work for audiences small & large around the country.
& yes, she does have an odd obsession with Alice in Wonderland.
Barbie Angell says: “my life is in progress….constantly seeking renovations but unable to find an affordable contractor.”
I know you’ll enjoy this interview, & please check out a video of Babrie Angell reading her "Ode to Shel Silverstein" at the end of this post. Then you can read two more of her poems—“the meeting” & “She’s Come Undone”—in the post just below; these poems are also posted or on the Writers Talk blog!
When did you first realize your identity as a writer?
from the time i was 6 years old, my dream was to be a lawyer. i had seen the t.v. show “paperchase”and desperately wanted to make that my life. while i was living in the children’s home “Mooseheart”my english teacher Miss Ruch encouraged me & i won the only award that the school gave out for writing; the memorial day award. i met Jerry Dellinger my senior year & he convinced me to turn down my acceptance to harvard & instead attend lincoln college where he taught theater. by my second semester freshman year, he had become such a force in my life that i didn’t hesitate to follow his advice. he assured me that i was a writer not a lawyer and he encouraged that up until his death in august of 2010.
Describe the creative process involved in any one piece you’ve written—this could be book, a story, a poem, an essay, etc.
a great deal of my pieces begin with one line. typically it’s something that i say in conversation or post on a social media site. there are poems which i have been revamping for years and ones which took only a few hours. i am constantly editing & revamping my work. mostly i try to look at anything from a new perspective. of course, this becomes difficult when the perspective i’m trying to steer away from is my own. there is a piece entitled “the meeting”which i began writing in 1995. it starts with the line, “i bumped into Truth on the subway” i was hanging out with my friend michael horn at denny’s after seeing the movie “mr. holland’s opus”and for some reason i spoke those words. at michael’s urging i wrote them down with the intention of using them in a poem. it was a full year before i ever was able to continue that thought. the poem was originally “completed”in 1996 and went on to help me garner much attention, multiple publications and achieve a 12th place out of 1400 poets in competition. last year i gave it a complete overhaul and i still don’t know if i’m done with it. at times i write while listening to headphones....my favorite music for this is Peter Gabriel....but other times all i need is a place to sit and ideally be uninterrupted.
Could you describe your relationship to the publishing process (this can be publishing in any form, from traditional book publishing to blogging, etc) ?
my poems are normally not accepted in the world of academic poetry. rhyme goes in and out of vogue and most publications do not even finish reading a work in that style. i consider my writing to be “poetry for people who don’t know they like poetry.” because of this, i typically get passed over in publications geared toward “traditional”verse and instead find opportunities in places where one does not normally find any type of poetry. i currently publish my own books as it is difficult to find an entry into the world of publishing when one has an untapped area in the world of literature. the bias in literary circles doesn’t bother me however. if one is so close-minded that they will not accept rhyme as a viable art form just because it wasn’t written 75 to 100 years ago....then that is obviously their own issue to deal with.
Has being a writer affected your relationships?
absolutely. arguing with spouses in the past, the thought of, “are you going to write about this?’or “was that line or piece about me?”has come up. when i was living in bloomington, illinois i was incredibly well-known as a performing poet. this caused quite a large problem with my boyfriend at the time since i was garnering more attention than he was a musician. we simply couldn’t go anywhere without my being recognized & asked to sign something or recited a piece. i’m far less well known here in asheville, nc but it never bothered me at all. i think that it’s really only an issue because i’m a performer and not just a reader or writer.
How would you describe the community of writers you belong to—if any? This may be a “real”or “virtual”(in more than one sense) community.
most of my community is online. i’ve found them to be predominantly supportive, even if my style of work isn’t what they believe is the “correct”way to write poetry. i get a lot of messages and critiques from people who attempt to convince me that i shouldn’t rhyme. they seem to not notice that i do write in a variety of styles including micro-fiction, prose and free-verse. but, as i’ve said, the anti-rhyme perspective doesn’t concern me at all. if i painted my house green and green was someone’s least favorite color then their dislike wouldn’t bother me....so why should a dislike for rhyme be an issue for me either?
What are your future goals in terms of writing?
literary world domination. : ) i’d like to get a literary agent and ideally be published with Grand Central Publishing. my goal used to be Harper Collins because they published Shel Silverstein, but Grand Central publishes two of my favorite authors....Rachel Simon & Steve Martin. i’d also like to have work in The New Yorker. Dorothy Parker and Steve Martin were both regular contributors and i feel that my work would be well-received by the magazine’s audience.
Bonus Question: If your writing were a musical instrument, what would it be?
the violin. it’s an instrument which can be used both as a violin or a fiddle. the versatility of it is reminiscent of my variety of styles and genres. as i understand it, a slight change in pressure and tempo can change the same combination of string, wood and space into an entirely different instrument. that appeals to me and is precisely what i attempt to do with my words. recently a theater company in illinois produced some of my poetry for the stage. i wasn't involved with any part of the production, not the choice of poems, order of pieces or how they were performed. i was happily surprised to see that some work, which i had always thought presented itself as comedic, came off well as dramatic or vice versa. i was honored to discover that not only was my writing far more adaptable than i had imagined, but also able to be enjoyed as a performance even without me being onstage.
it is my habit online to type in all lower case unless i capitalize to illustrate respect or for emphasis. this being an online interview i chose to continue this practice....i hope that it has not interfered with your understanding of my responses. : ) thank you for reading.
i bumped into Truth on the subway,
his clothing was ragged and torn,
and he looked with dismay
at Hatred and Rage,
and with pity at Anger and Scorn.
it seems he had left with the world in this mess
and had given up trying to try.
and he gazed up at me,
with this look so serene,
and the tear of Fate caught in his eye.
he had hidden himself in the details
by sealing up all of the doors.
he retreated inside,
just a new place to hide,
far from the violence and wars.
he had lost all his faith in Humanity
and Humanity lost faith in him,
as he started to fear for his sanity,
seeing children abused
and the face of Love bruised
while Ignorance lied on a whim.
’cause he needed a decade to think
and mix it around in his brain.
the Hurt we inflict,
the Evil, the Sick,
the Torture, the Horrors, the Pain.
he returned with a sense of frustration
that no one could help him defeat.
quite unable to find
a Peace in his mind
that would aid his attempts in the street.
see he couldn’t abide by Injustice
and he didn’t find Racism fair
and he just couldn’t see
why someone like me
could’ve found any reason to care.
i bumped into Truth on the subway
and our meeting just doesn’t seem real.
to encounter blind grace
in such a chance place,
that’s made up of concrete and steel.
I saw her today
and she’s still unraveling.
She twists her hands in her lap,
as if she could somehow knot the ends.
For a sense of closure maybe,
or to keep herself together.
Either way, it doesn’t seem to be working.
Pieces of her scattered across the coffee shop floor.
They mixed in with the stray cigarette butts
and empty sugar packets finally released
from the confines of their ceramic caddy.
And I stared at her.
Wanting to talk to her and let her know that
someday,
somewhere,
I was certain that a glue would hit the shelves of
some tiny, little environmentally friendly store for
$29.95 an application and she would be saved from
the daily chore of reassembling her jigsaw self.
But before I could decide just how to correctly
phrase all that was swimming furiously through my
brain, she was gone.
She left behind quite a bit of herself that afternoon.
And it took the bus boy a half an hour to clean up the mess....
A happy Thursday to you, & time for Writers Talk. Our interviewee today is a poet whose work I admire for her careful observation of the natural world, & who also admirably combines her poetic efforts with a keen awareness of how we must all put our best effort forward if we are to preserve that world for future generations. She is also a blogger whose efforts have been recognized both for her raising consciousness about environmental issues (she is listed on the Best Green Blogs Directory) & her blog also has been recognized by Blogger as a Blog of Note.
Juliet Wilson is an Edinburgh based poet, reviewer, adult education tutor & conservation volunteer. She writes mostly haiku and free verse, much of which is inspired by the natural world. She has been widely published in UK poetry journals and online. She blogs at Crafty Green Poet & tweets under the same name, she also edits the online poetry journal Bolts of Silk. Her chapbook Unthinkable Skies was published in 2010 by Calder Wood Press.
Please check out Juliet Wilson’s poem “Blackbird Lawn” at the bottom of the interview (a new wrinkle, & yes, it will also appear on the Writers Talk blog). I know you'll enjoy the interview!
When did you first realize your identity as a writer?
I loved writing compositions all through school but I first realized I was a writer when I was about eleven and wrote my first poem. I first actually made space for writing in my life when I was living and teaching in Malawi and had few distractions and so more time for writing. It was several years after returning to the UK that I really started taking writing seriously. Even now my identity as a writer is changing, I recently started writing short stories and also teaching creative writing in the University of Edinburgh Office of Lifelong Learning programme.
Describe the creative process involved in any one piece you’ve written—this could be book, a story, a poem, an essay, etc.
I write a lot of haiku and for most of them the process is the same. I take an observation and note it down then I think about all the elements that should be in a haiku (juxtaposition of two images, seasonal reference etc) and present the observation in haiku form, trying to capture that elusive aha moment that is central to the best haiku. I’m always aware though that one person’s aha moment can so easily be another person’s ‘so what?’.
Could you describe your relationship to the publishing process (this can be publishing in any form, from traditional book publishing to blogging, etc)
I’ve been blogging at Crafty Green Poet for over 5 years. I also edit the online poetry journal Bolts of Silk, which gives me a look at the other side of the publishing and editing process. Editing has really helped develop my critical eye and to become more analytical of my own poetry. I am active on Twitter, which I consider to be part of the publishing process as well as the marketing process. I have self published one poetry chapbook (Bougainvillea Dancing) which raised money for charities working in Malawi. I have had one chapbook (Unthinkable Skies) published by Calder Wood Press, a small publishing company based near Edinburgh. I need really to become more disciplined in terms of sending out individual pieces to journals and competitions.
How has being a writer affected your relationships?
I’m not sure that it has….. I have an understanding partner!
How would you describe the community of writers you belong to—if any? This may be a “real” or “virtual” (in more than one sense) community.
I have a lot of acquaintances in the Edinburgh poetry scene, but the literary scene has never really been my main community. I have several friends who aren’t writers at all and that feels important to me. I ‘know’ a lot of writers through blogging, Facebook and Twitter, and that feels like a nice virtual community!
What are your future goals in terms of writing?
I’d like to have a full collection of poetry out at some point. I'd also like to write more short stories.
Blackbird Lawn
This male blackbird has one white eyebrow
but sings as beautifully as the rest.
His mate is the brown of polished chestnuts
with a beak as bright as his.
Dutifully they collect food, wait
every morning for the scattered raisins
to carry to their brood.
Soon they will come to the lawn
with large-mouthed, speckled young -
teach them to pull worms from grass,
to recognise the footfalls
that promise sweetness.
It’s Thursday, & time for Writers Talk! I’m most gratified that we can include Jack Varnell, AKA The Emotional Orphan, in this series. His poems are memorable: flashes of emotion & image, & are very direct, a characteristic he shares with one of my own favorite poets, Kenneth Patchen. Here’s a brief writerly bio:
Jack Varnell is a contemporary prose poet & writer living in the suburbs of Atlanta, Ga. USA
Print Selections include Guerilla Pamphlets 7, & due this spring from Popshot Magazine, & All The King's Horses-Volume 3 in the 'Expression of Depression' anthology series from LittleEpisodes/Little Brown Book Group in the UK
Please be sure to check out Jack Varnell’s poem “Wolves at Bay” over at the Writers Talk blog—& now, on to the interview!
When did you first realize your identity as a writer?
I began writing at a very young age. I wrote a short story called “Freddy the Rat” at around age six. It was around the same time my mother held a figurative gun to my head in order to encourage me to play the piano rather than concern myself with silly games like baseball. I had seen “Ben” with Michael Jackson, and “Willard” - those cheesy 70’s movies about the rats, and decided the theme from Ben needed to be the song I did in my recital. “Freddy the Rat” was homage to him. Ben. Not Michael.
Since I never really attended school successfully, I really didn’t write too much in my teens and early twenties. My imagination was always on spin cycle, and I was more concerned with living the stories that eventually become poems. I read all the time, and developed a keen taste for some of the masters like Hermann Hesse, Sartre, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Nietzsche and the likes, but missed a bunch of the more familiar contemporary authors, and studied few contemporary poets. I tended to lean more towards a spiritual, philosophical, or even utopian or dystopian type of write, so when I did pick up a pen it was usually something flavored by those writers. My writing output was limited, with the exception of sappy, silly love letters, legal briefs, letters to the Parole Board asking for leniency, and Writs of Habeas Corpus for my hoodlum buddies.
I am a recovering addict, clean for seventeen years now. In rehab I was told I was told I was an “emotional orphan”, and that I needed to learn how to get in touch with my feelings at a deeper level. Journaling on a daily basis was the tool they used to have me learn that, and I discovered that it worked, and more importantly offered a way to express myself in a truthful and creative manner. I rarely do fiction, and have been writing essays, stories, shorts and poetry since then. Much of my work is under the pseudonym “The Emotional Orphan” for that very reason.
Describe the creative process involved in any one piece you’ve written—this could be book, a story, a poem, an essay, etc.
Most all of my poetry follows a similar pattern, and it is a little different than most poets I have known or read about. I generally am focused on the actual who, what, where, when, and why of my own life experiences. I don’t usually shy away from topics that are not that easy to swallow because that is how a lot of my life has been. I have had a colorful and exciting life with exposure to things most have only seen on television or read in books. Anything I may be exposed to may end up on the page at some point. Some have notebooks of stories, poems, etcetera. I have phrases, anecdotes, half finished pieces, observations and random thoughts.
My writing usually includes two important factors. The first is honesty. I cannot succeed if I am afraid of telling the truth, or with too much concern of how it will be interpreted. Secondly, my experiences are the key piece of evidence in my crimes against poetry or literature.
Could you describe your relationship to the publishing process? (this can be publishing in any form, from traditional book publishing to blogging, etc)
At this point, my relationship with the publishing process is a bit like two teenagers at a school dance. She is the homecoming queen, cheerleader - too pure for any car backseat. I am the acne scarred guy, leaning against the wall staring lustfully at her from across the room. The secret weapon is poetry, not beer.
I have been writing, and refraining from doing submissions for about two years, and simply focusing on the art, and the mechanics involved. I also want my voice to be heard so I read any and all journals, lit mags, and different publishers with the intent of learning where that voice might get heard. I did a little self publishing test online to evaluate the potential, and timing for a chapbook or larger collection.
I’ve been experimenting with Broadsides, and simply writing to build an arsenal of poems ready to be …somewhere.
Having a sales and marketing background, I have also been somewhat a student of the changes in the publishing world and who is responsible for the success of a writer. The reality is that ultimately the writer controls his own fate. Branding has been important to me with the Emotional Orphan Blog, and twitter, tumblr, posterous, and many other social media outlets, blogs, and writing / arts communities. So, if you look at your business card and the words Penguin, Copper Canyon, or something similar is attached to the company you work for, I have done half the work already.
How has being a writer affected your relationships?
Although writing is a solitary exercise, I have been given so much from the writing community from across all genres, and forms. My real world relationships may have been minimized a bit.They have been replaced by a strong core group of creative and talented friends who support each other and offer critique and feedback, from an honest perspective with the intention of perfecting their craft. Writers like Caroline Hagood, Laura Mercurio Ebohon, Fran Lock, and Jodi MacArthur, whose writing styles are completely different, have been particularly gracious and instrumental in sharing words of wisdom and making sure to pay attention to my work that gets “out there”
Besides them, there are possibly hundreds of writers online that I read as often as I can, and many others who lend support through Facebook and other social media outlets. Daily, I am embarrassed by running across someone that I meant to keep up with that I have neglected to read.
How would you describe the community of writers you belong to—if any? This may be a “real” or “virtual” (in more than one sense) community.
I have some long time friends and writers who I try to interact with regularly. I also float in and out of various groups designed to support, enlighten and critique each others work. The HIGHdra Syndicate is an outstanding group of young writers and poets who study at the feet of the masters from the Outlaw Poetry Movement. We are pretty headstrong about making some noise, and a difference in the publishing world, and the reception and recognition of poetry at large. Outlaw poetry, as described by the incomparable S.A Griffin just last night, is not picking up guns, robbing banks and going on the lam, it is about having a finger on the pulse of society and having the courage to shake things up a little in order to wake up the masses. Poets like S.A., A.Razor, Rafael F.J.Fajardo, Scott Wannberg, John Dorsey, and infinite others have been doing it for a long time. There are many others like Frankie Metropolis, Edaurdo Jones, Diana Rose, Murphy Clamrod, Jason Hardung, High Jack Flash, Jack Shaw, Christian Alvarez, Yossarian Hunter, Newamba Flamingo, Sean Hogan, and a host of others are making some noise. Publishers like Epic Rites Press, and Wolfgang Carstens are giving an outlet for the voices of writers like Rob Plath, John Yamrus, Jack Henry, and Karl Koweski, while keeping alive the words of Todd Moore, one of the original Outlaws and a master no longer with us …in the physical. We believe pretty strongly in the power of both the spoken and written word and make use of any and all tools available to connect with the masses. These tools include everything from banged up antique typewriters, to iPhones, and our internet radio channel on BlogTalk Radio.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the community of artists and writers at Little Episodes. Primarily based in the UK, LE has a stated mission of “Dispelling the notion that art is a corporate commodity-Giving the artistic industries back to the artist- Promoting the arts as a platform to incite empathy and understanding.“ It is an incredible community of support, and talent that has proven to be an indispensible place to give and take in order to grow as an artist.
What are your future goals in terms of writing?
For now, my intention is to keep writing, and submitting. I have had some success, but I don’t necessarily measure that in number of books or poems published. It is more about gleaning all I can from those more educated, and experienced, and following the proven method of getting the words out there. I tend to be a little analytical about it all. The words of my fellow writers are more powerful to me than how often I have been published, the rejections with critique more valuable than the acceptance letters.
I think finding a cure for my aversion to apostrophes and extreme addiction to ellipses may be equally as important, and I do have a secret desire to actually finish an English class one day. Hopefully royalties from my first book may provide the means to actually go to college. For a while, at least.
Bonus Question: If your writing were a musical instrument, what would it be?
Let me clarify, would a machete be considered a musical instrument?
Seriously, I think my Mother’s statement many years ago about how I would one day regret that I didn’t pursue the piano with a little more dedication holds true. I believe a piano would accomplish what I would like to with my writing. It has the potential to offer intense and powerful music, while also having the ability to calmly tickle the imagination and take it to places unseen. There is a journey to be enjoyed, and if you just close your eyes it can take you almost anywhere through the good, the bad and the ugly. For the bad and ugly, it offers a solution and some peace. You can find a home there.
Happy Thursday to you! I’m so pleased to announce that after a month-long hiatus, Writers Talk is back—& we’re celebrating its return by interviewing a special writer & a special friend, New York City journalist Lana Bortolot.
My association with Lana Bortolot dates back to the early 1980s when we were both studying English literature at the University of Vermont. Lana moved on from studies of Henry James, Geoffery Chaucer et al. to work in a Washington, DC law firm, but on to study journalism & obtained her masters degree from New York University by way of Virginia Commonwealth University. Lana is a regular contributor to The Wall Street Journal and amNewYork, where she covers arts & culture, & urban affairs as well as other travel/lifestyle magazines. She specializes in historic preservation & community development, wine & travel, especially in regions where grapes grow (she is someone who gives her passport a regular & thorough workout).
I know Lana as someone with a dry & incisive wit, deep passions & an equally deep sense of integrity. All these characteristics come to thefore in her writing, which is consistently crisp, clear & inviting to the imagination as her words take the reader to exotic locales—whether those locales exist on the shores of the Adriatic or the sidewalks of Astoria. I’m very pleased to bring a journalist’s perspective to the Writers Talk series & even more pleased that the journalist is my dear friend, Lana Bortolot.
Please check out the companion Writers Talk blog for a piece Lana contributed to the Wall Street Journal (published in the Wall Street Journal, February 1, 2011—here's a link to the article on the WSJ site, where you can watch a super slideshow the Journal put together for the piece), & you can also check out more of her writing, as well as find back stories for her reporting on Lana’s excellent blog. & now—here’s Lana:
When did you first realize your identity as a writer?
I wrote my first short story when I was nine years old and that’s when I thought I would be a writer. I didn’t write anything again until a few poems in college after a heartbreak. When those poems were dwarfed by the more brilliant writer in my life, I didn’t pick up again on writing until I went to grad school for journalism about 10 years later. But it took a while to figure out what to write because I was never interested in a news beat: I fancied myself a features writer. Which, of course, is in high demand and pays quite a lot. As I’ve evolved as a journalist, I found I could cover news stories in a humanistic way—and even incorporate those elements of creative non-fiction to which I’d always been attracted. People don’t think news stories are crafted. But that’s not true. And when I realized that, I evolved from being a journalist to being a writer.
Describe the creative process involved in any one piece you’ve written—this could be book, a story, a poem, an essay, etc.
While living in Italy, I wrote a number of travel essays for newspapers and guidebooks and I always remembered what Zinsser said about travel writing, which pertains to much writing: “The writer must keep a tight rein on your subjective self … and keep an objective eye on the reader.”
So, my approach was experiential: what did it feel like to be in a place and why? Was it mystical or romantic because of history? Some sense of loss or abandonment? Why would a reader forsake the better-known sites to come to this one and what were the rewards? Those were always the questions I had to answer before I pursued some folly of a story. Those details have to be significant to someone other than me. Once I articulated the experience of being there, I went back and inserted the facts that were the backbone of the story. The goal: make the story serviceable, imaginative and free of cliché.
Could you describe your relationship to the publishing process (this can be publishing in any form, from traditional book publishing to blogging, etc)
I’m on deadline for everything I produce, and it’s a pretty clean relationship: my editors assign and I deliver. But now, with the onslaught of social media and the necessity of engaging in that as a form of self-promotion, I spend a lot more time thinking about how I can extend the story beyond my assigned word count. Having a blog, for instance, allows me to write the back story. And it also allows me to deliver uncluttered copy to my primary publisher, usually a newspaper, knowing I can explore related ideas or segues into a blog. It’s a lot more work—sometimes writing the story twice—but it also gives me license to combine experiential writing with more candid observations outside traditional journalism.
How has being a writer affected your relationships?
I have made a vow to never become involved with another writer. So, while I have no competition, I also have no support. Oh well.
How would you describe the community of writers you belong to—if any? This may be a “real” or “virtual” (in more than one sense) community.
I find journalists fairly supportive of each other because there’s enough room for everyone to find a niche and thrive. So, there’s a lot of room to be admiring, supportive and congratulatory. Maybe that’s because NYC, where I live, is so huge, there are a million stories and a million opportunities to succeed. And when things are bad, we all bitch about the same thing, and that’s strangely bonding. About half the time I write about wine, which is a much smaller community. Still, I find my wine-writer colleagues friendly and willing to share sources and ideas. Maybe it’s because wine journalism is such a social vocation?
What are your future goals in terms of writing?
I think I have a memoir in me somewhere. I would like to try writing in longer, more descriptive form that doesn’t bow to the ecomony of words. But, I am also very happy in my current urban-affairs reporting gig, which allows me to pursue under-the-radar stories, and I’d like to develop that more. Technology is causing us to lose so many human stories; that kind of journalism helps preserve them.
Bonus Question: If your writing were a musical instrument, what would it be?
A cello: long and deeply thought. Not easy to get into, but, I think, with an unexpected reward at the end.
Image of Ms Bortolot in the Writers Talk graphic is from a photo by Uschi Becker.
