Rob Mclennan's Blog, page 394

Touch the Donkey supplement: new interviews with Briante, beaulieu, Kaminski, Prevost, Ursuliak + hastain,

Anticipating the release next week of the fourth issue of Touch the Donkey (a small poetry journal), why not check out the interviews that have appeared over the past few weeks with contributors to the third issue: Susan Briante , derek beaulieu , Megan Kaminski , Roland Prevost , Emily Ursuliak and j/j hastain .

Interviews with contributors to the first three issues, as well, remain online: Catherine Wagner, Susanne Dyckman, Susan Holbrook, Julie Carr, David Peter Clark, Pearl Pirie, Eric Baus, Pattie McCarthy, Camille Martin and Gil McElroy.

The fourth issue features new writing by: Maureen Alsop, Stan Rogal, Laura Mullen, Jessica Smith, Lise Downe, Kirsten Kaschock, Gary Barwin, Chris Turnbull, Nikki Sheppy and Lisa Jarnot. And, once the new issue appears, watch the blog over the subsequent weeks and months for interviews with a variety of the issue's contributors!

And of course, copies of the first three issues are still very much available. Why not subscribe?

We even have our own Facebook group. What the what-what?

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Biswamit Dwibedy

Biswamit Dwibedy [photo credit: Ashwini A Singh] is the author of Ozalid (1913 Press, 2010), and Hubble Gardener and Erode, both forthcoming from 1913 Press. He was born in Orissa, India, and lives in Bangalore. He has a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from Bard College, New York. He's also a visual artist and translator, and recently edited a collection of contemporary poetry in translation from seven Indian languages for Litmus Press’s Aufgabe # 13. In India, he works for Ogilvy and Mather, and is the founder and editor of Annew Press, a small, independent publishing effort focusing on translations, reissues and new voices in contemporary poetry from India and abroad.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
1913 Press published my book Ozalid shortly after I’d just moved to India—my life had just changed somewhat drastically and the book was as if a souvenir of the time I’d spent in America, a reminder of this other life I had just given up. It was life-changing because I’d just never thought I’d publish a book of poetry that would look like that—the Dollars did a wonderful job. The shapes of my poems surprised me, though it was my own work. I think I find less of that element of surprise when it comes to formal experiments in my poetry now. Though I am branching out into me forms, things were less familiar then and I didn’t know I was writing a book. I had nothing to say and I wanted nothing. That’s not the case now, I guess. My most recent work also feels drastically different especially because I am writing from within India now; I am home, but I don’t know really know who my audience is. But of course for that one person you write for.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
Through the women poets whose work I fell in love with Leslie Scalapino’s Defoe, Considering How Exaggerated Music is , everything by Cole Swensen, Rosmarie Waldrop, Lyn Hejinian’s My Life, Barbara Guest’s Seeking Air. All of them question genre, form, and work with others modes of thinking. I love Fanny Howe’s Radical Love, I can never tell if it is poetry or some new religion. So I guess I came to poetry in a way that included prose as well; I came to it precisely because I saw it as a place where disparate things could co-exist.

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?

There was a time when many writing projects sparked up one after the others, ideas I am working on slowly, each its own book, it’s kind of sad and very unorganized of me. And together they make any sort of progress very slow. I don’t know yet what they will look like finally, but yes, they do come out of lots on notes, reading and research, at least the last two books did. It is a process of I slowly sculpting out the shape of a poem or a book from a sea of fluid matter.

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?
I have a series of seemingly unrelated poems always going on—things that I might later realize are in fact one solid train of thought I am trying to give shape to. I like the idea of the book as unit, and am occupied with a few projects recently that are thematic books, but progress is slow.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
They weren’t till recently, when I had to record a talk for a conference at the University of Montana, and I realized how great it was to hear myself and then edit things according. I’d always been told to do that, but I never tried it I guess. I am terrified of reading in public, but I don’t mind recording at all.

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?
Writing is a form of desire for me, a place where you maneuver what you can and cannot say. Theoretical concerns change as one moves from one book to another, slightly, maybe, but it’s always about desire, and using language to give it some form, to be in a dialogue with its double. I’m always reading Deleuze, but lately I seem to be interested in theories of religion and queer identity, and diving into ancient forms of knowledge that we know little about to create a living theory for one’s own life that might resonate with our times.

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?
Of course the writer plays an important role in any culture; but I am more interested in the kind of role that a writer can play in my own—Indian—culture. There’s possibility of making real change in the world through one’s words here. I do sometimes believe that it is more exciting to be a writer here now because the audience dynamics is completely different. We don’t have MFA programs. We are fascinated by new ways of telling a story, social media. We might be majorly conservative about some things but we are also open to some very freaky traditions. It’s a fun mix and I think writers should take advantage of that; be more creative in their storytelling, formally, and dive into the mysteries of our fascinating culture.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I always found it to be an amazingly helpful experience. I just recent

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?

Poets never finish anything. 

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to critical prose)? What do you see as the appeal?

It’s a difficult transition for me, to write sentences, one after the other, but the most appealing thing about prose, or the fiction I am writing is the amount of freedom I find there to write what I want, as a story and between, in sentences. Somehow, surprisingly, it’s something I find missing in my poetry now.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?

It is difficult to have a routine revolving around my day-job, which requires crazy hours, so I tend to write, take notes, as and when I can, at home or at work, and then somehow collect them all later, in the night, but not daily, into a piece or poem.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?

Cole Swensen.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

A particular brand of incense called Bharat Darshan.

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?

I am influenced by all of those, and history, particularly, seems to be a driving force for my work now.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?

The list is endless, but Deleuze and Guattari’s A Thousand Plateaus is my bible.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?

Go on a trip abroad with a dear friend of mine.

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?

I’d love to work in a neuroscience lab. I moved to the US to study Biomedical Engineering before becoming a poet, so I guess I would have ended up somewhere along those lines, though I can’t imagine that. But yeah, neuroscience is wild fun.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?

I don’t know, but I was copying lyrics of pop-songs and calling them my own since I was a child. That impulse, to plagiarize, to cut and paste, to play with language was always there I guess.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?

The last book that made me go wow! was The Queer Art of Failure by Judith Halberstam. And I don’t know about the last great movie, but the last movie I greatly enjoyed was Need for Speed . Great fun!

20 - What are you currently working on?
I am working on a book of poems that play with the idea of the vicarious. I want to sort of wash it off its serious Christian denotations and understand it as a way of life, of selflessness that is alive in everyday actions. I am also working a novel of historical fiction about the first Indian man to write a book in English. I am calling it The Hair Surgeon.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;

Jennifer Kronovet, Awayward

THEY PLANTED
a wall of treesto protect usfrom the desert—
protect the samethoughts againand again from leaving.
Clattering forgeof the place-mind:today today.
Girls cry publiclyto penetratethe specific.
Community aircreates an event:his hat!

Leaving is not the word.We lost leaving lastwinter. (Hid it.)
Here is without the desert-stance: earth soflat I’m a person.
Every so often a book strikes with a force that I have to catch my breath, a feeling I had when I first opened Jennifer Kronovet’s first poetry collection, Awayward (Rochester NY: BOA Editions, 2009). Admittedly, I might be a few years behind on this one (unrelatedly: this is the first poetry collection the baby has heard read aloud to her, during our weekdays at home), but there is something about the precision and cadence of her work that is reminiscent of the poetry of D.G. Jones, or even the precision and explorations of dark and light in Sarah Manguso’s poems. Produced as the winner of the 2008 A. Poulin, Jr. Poetry Prize, as selected by Jean Valentine, Awayward includes a short “Foreword” by the judge that includes:






















            The poetry invites you in. When I came across Jennifer Kronovet’s manuscript, I thought of Rilke who says we do not want to live in an interpreted world. Her poetry does not interpret, but lightly touches the right brain, the part of us that can enjoy without necessarily understanding, without, as Keats says, “any irritable reaching after fact and reason.” The kind of poetry that you would not need to paraphrase or defend, but that will change you.            Another wonderful quality of Kronovet’s poetry is that it is interesting: without having plot, or even a fixed persona, it has suspense. And complexity, and humor.
While I’m pleased that Valentine chose this manuscript for the prize, her introduction doesn’t give Kronovet’s work nearly enough credit, almost as though she doesn’t entirely understand what it is that Kronovet’s is doing. Awayward is a book of densely-packed lyrics that bounce from point to point through inquiry over narrative, and reference travel, speak of ideas of being and identity, struggle with comprehension, and question even those things that make the most sense. This is a book of precision, wisdoms both deliberate and accidental, and deep clarity. While everything that Valentine writes about Kronovet’s Awayward might be true, the suggestion that her poems don’t need to be understood to be enjoyed is a bit confusing (and possibly, even, missing the point entirely). Kronovet’s directness makes the work entirely approachable, and “understanding” is as much a matter of approach and style as a red herring. How can one claim not to understand? I’m looking forward to what she publishes next. And, I hope: soon.
TOGETHER
HERE, AT EIGHTEEN ONE MUST CHOOSE to have a bed for dreaming in or a bed for making love in. You think that this would be an easy choice. The sun has set but there is light that makes the country classically itself. If this were before, you would have longed for someone unknown to you. But this person is here, telling you about the first time he realized someone might not like him. She was a nun, and he was a child.
The first years without dreams, you don’t know if you’ve slept. And then you know you have. And then you know you haven’t.
One summer you purposefully stay awake together to imagine the forest inhabited by animals drawn by everyone in the country. You choose your words to make it more real, irritated by slips into the easily known. Be specific about how the deer run. How much of it is graceful and how much of it the violent jerk of fear, or of thoughtlessness.

happy birthday, kate!

My lovely and talented first-born, Kate, turns twenty-four years old this afternoon (4:30pm). Where did the time go? I can barely remember. Was she ever this small? Happy Birthday!

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Wendy McGrath

Wendy McGrath is an Edmonton-based writer whose most recent novel North East appeared in October, 2014 (NeWest Press). The poetry collection, A Revision of Forward , is forthcoming fall, 2015 (NeWest Press). A Revision of Forward is the culmination of a poem-print collaboration between McGrath and Edmonton-based printmaker Walter Jule. McGrath’s novel Santa Rosa , the prequel to North East , was published April, 2011 (NeWest Press) and was a finalist for the 2012 City of Edmonton Book Award. Her first novel, Recurring Fictions , was published June, 2002 (University of Alberta Press).

The poetry collection common place ecstasies , was published fall, 2000 by Beach Holme Publishing. A long poem in this collection was published as a chapbook by Rubicon Press in 2011.

Additional poetry, fiction, and non-fiction publication and broadcast credits include: Descant, The Edmonton Journal, Prairie Fire, Grain, Contemporary Verse 2, Prism International, NeWest Review, Orbis (UK), Tessera, Room of One’s Own, as well as CBC Radio, and on Edmonton Transit buses as part of Take the Poetry Route—co-sponsored by the Canada Council and the Edmonton Arts Council.

1 - How did your first book or chapbook change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
My first book was common place ecstasies, a collection of poetry. My life didn’t change—I had two young children and I was freelancing so it was still hectic. What did change, though, was my attitude toward my writing. I felt that first book gave me some credibility. North East, my most recent novel, is the sequel to Santa Rosa and the second in a trilogy. North East still has the same narrator and neighbourhood at its heart, but the narrator’s awareness is increasing and it’s more evident that she is trying to respond to the world around her in a creative and responsive way. Both works have celestial events and both have, to me at least, a very strong soundtrack. North East feels different partly because the narrator is gaining more insight into her world and because the world, in a microcosmic and a macrocosmic way, is changing. 

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I don’t think it was a conscious choice. It seems that my ideas and my writing seem to dictate what they should be. I’m getting better at paying attention to what is needed at a certain point in time and I don’t anguish as much as I did in terms of “I should be writing a poem, I should be working on a short story, I should work on this idea for this novel…” Now I listen to what a particular piece of writing might have to say to me.

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?
It really depends on the project. I wish every project came to me in a fully-formed idea and then simply translated to the page just as easily! Ha! There have been a couple of times when a poem has come to me in its final, true form but that is so rare. I keep journals and notebooks and jot things down, sometimes they come to something and sometimes they don’t. In terms of my novels, I worked on Recurring Fictions for about a year once I knew what I was working on! Santa Rosa I’d been working on for about seven years. I’ve been working on A Revision of Forward off-and-on with Walter Jule for 12 years now. I guess I’m learning to be patient.

4 - Where does a poem or work of fiction 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?
Again, it really depends on the project. My first novel Recurring Fictions, began as a short story. At that point, I thought I would tackle a novel at some distant time in the future, because my children were still young.  So I worked on a short story and then another short story. One was broadcast on CBC and the other was published in Prairie Fire . I realized that the two were connected and I just started writing toward the shape of the book I envisioned in my mind. I saw a helical structure with quieter threads travelling outside that structure. Recurring Fictions was the novel I never intended to write. When I was writing Santa Rosa, though, I knew there would be three books and each one would grow from the narrator’s vision and artistic voice. A Revision of Forward is a collection of poetry (forthcoming from NeWest Press fall 2015) that began with fragments of poetry that were inspired by prints by Edmonton printmaker Walter Jule. We thought of treating the print/poem idea in a number of different ways. The idea for a book came later as Walter created more prints inspired by my poetry and my poetry was also changing. It’s an interesting project of which the “book” as artifact plays one part in the interplay between the artistic visions of printmaker and poet.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I enjoy doing readings but I don’t use them as a sounding board or a testing-ground of any kind for my work.

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?
I like to poke holes in the theory of genre. Writing should make mischief--poetic fiction, a novel that could be considered a long poem. I’m still asking questions, I’m not sure I’ll ever find answers. For me, the questions are more important anyway. The most important question for me is usually: “Will I ever write anything again?”  

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?
The role of the writer is defined by the reader and the platform the reader uses to access text. A reader could be reading: a book, a blog, an article on the web, or experiencing narrative through a video game. A writer’s role is whatever a reader perceives it to be. I think a writer’s role is simple: to write. Now, a writer’s perception of her role shifts with each work and each project. I think the role of the writer is to continue to push their limits and by doing so, whatever the platform in which she works,  she takes the reader with her.  

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I’ve been fortunate to work with wonderful editors, so I haven’t found the process difficult at all. They’ve understood my vision, which was important, and they were sensitive. The edits they proposed were usually spot-on but they didn’t push if I disagreed with a suggestion. I think there needs to be give-and-take and trust. Every writer should feel lucky to have a good editor.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
Keep writing.

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to fiction)? What do you see as the appeal?
I used to worry about what I should be working on, if I were writing poetry I thought I should be working on fiction and vice versa, but I don’t anymore. I go with whatever presents itself. I do find, however, that a poem and a longer piece of fiction work different ‘muscles.’ By that I mean I feel different when I work on a poem and when I work on a piece of fiction. It is a physical thing as well as cerebral.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?
At the moment I have absolutely no writing routine. I wish I did! I simply try to work in writing time whenever I can. I keep notebooks. A typical day for me begins with either a run or a bike.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
I sometimes gather props and have them near me when I write. So when I was working on a particular part of North East, I bought a vintage hat, and for a part of Santa Rosa I bought Brylcreem and a certain type of shaving cream. I also have colours that I think about. When I was working on Santa Rosa I got paint swatches from the hardware store and pinned those to the wall. I also pinned those first “A Revision of Forward” prints Walter Jule created to my dining room wall, so I could live with them and let the poems naturally evolve out of these first ethereal images.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Saskatchewan—the pines, the lake, the smell of earth after a rain, old wood, wet wool…

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?
Music, art and nature strongly influence my work. I listened to songs about trains when I was writing Recurring Fictions and the rhythm of a train on the tracks is one of the threads that hold the narrative together. I have written poems based on the work of Vincent van Gogh and, of course, Walter Jule’s prints were the influence for the long poem “A Revision of Forward” in the eponymous upcoming collection. Music also informs Santa Rosa and North East. Each book has a different soundtrack.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
Robert Kroetsch has influenced my poetry. My long poem “preserving” was inspired by Seed Catalogue . bp nichol’s sense of joy and his playfulness has been a tremendous inspiration.  James Joyce’s Dubliners is talismanic--“The Dead” in particular. Michael Ondaatje is also a hero of mine, for his fiction and poetry. Virginia Woolf’s work has probably most influenced my fiction.  

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Go to the Glastonbury music festival, visit Stonehenge on summer solstice, babysit turtle eggs…I’ve also never water-skied. I need to learn to water-ski.

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?
I was a ham when I was a kid, I loved to dance, and sing. I loved being on stage. I probably would have been an actor, dancer or a singer.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
I have also experimented with visual art—drawing, printmaking—but one life only gives you so much time. I’ve always loved words and I’ve always loved story. Before I even knew how to print I was trying to put stories down on paper. I think I felt compelled to write above anything else I might have tried. I always came back to writing.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
The Conversations: Walter Murch and the Art of Editing Film by Michael Ondaatje was a great book. It taught me a lot. The last great film I saw was The Invisible Woman . 

20 - What are you currently working on?
I am working on the sequel to North East, the final book in the Santa Rosa trilogy. I have also begun researching another book.
        
12 or 20 (second series) questions;

dusie : the tuesday poem,

The Tuesday poem is nearly two! Since April 9, 2013, I've been curating a weekly poem over at the dusie blog, an offshoot of the online poetry journal Dusie (http://www.dusie.org/), edited/published by poet and American expat Susana Gardner.
http://dusie.blogspot.ca/
The series aims to publish a mix of authors from the dusie kollektiv, as well as Canadian and international poets, ranging from emerging to the well established. Over the next few weeks and months, watch for new work by dusies and non-dusies alike, including Christine Stewart, Susan Lewis, Kate Greenstreet, ryan fitzpatrick, Amish Trivedi, Lola Lemire Tostevin, Lina ramona Vitkauskas, Nikki Sheppy, N.W. Lea, Barbara Henning, Chus Pato (trans Erín Moure), Stephen Cain, Lucy Ives, William Hawkins, Jan Zwicky, Rusty Morrison, Jon Boisvert, Helen Hajnoczky, Steven Heighton, Jennifer Kronovet, Ray Hsu, Steve McOrmond, Lily Brown, Daniel Scott Tysdal, Beth Bachmann, Harold Abramowitz, Sarah Burgoyne, David James Brock, Elizabeth Treadwell and Shannon Maguire.
A new poem will appear every Tuesday afternoon, Central European Summer Time, just after lunch (which is 8am in Central Canada terms).

And if you wish to receive notices for poems as they appear, just send me an email at rob_mclennan (at) hotmail.com.
So far, the Tuesday poem series has featured new writing by Elizabeth Robinson, Megan Kaminski, Marcus McCann, Hoa Nguyen, Stephen Collis, j/j hastain, David W. McFadden, Edward Smallfield, Erín Moure, Roland Prevost, Maria Damon, Rae Armantrout, Jenna Butler, Cameron Anstee, Sarah Rosenthal, Kathryn MacLeod, Camille Martin, Pattie McCarthy, Stephen Brockwell, Rosmarie Waldrop, Nicole Markotić, Deborah Poe, Ken Belford, Hugh Thomas, nathan dueck, Hailey Higdon, Stephanie Bolster, Jessica Smith, Mark Cochrane, Amanda Earl, Robert Swereda, Colin Smith, Sarah Mangold, Joe Blades, Maxine Chernoff, Peter Jaeger, Dennis Cooley, Louise Bak, Phil Hall, Fenn Stewart, derek beaulieu, Susan Briante, Adeena Karasick, Marthe Reed, Brecken Hancock, Lea Graham, D.G. Jones, Monty Reid, Karen Mac Cormack, Elizabeth Willis, Susan Elmslie, Paul Vermeersch, Susan M. Schultz, Rachel Blau DuPlessis, K.I. Press, Méira Cook, Rachel Moritz, Kemeny Babineau, Gil McElroy, Geoffrey Nutter, Lisa Samuels, Dan Thomas-Glass, Judith Copithorne, Deborah Meadows, Meredith Quartermain, William Allegrezza, nikki reimer, Hillary Gravendyck, Catherine Wagner, Stan Rogal, Sarah de Leeuw, Tsering Wangmo Dhompa, Arielle Greenberg, lary timewell, Norma Cole, Paul Hoover, Emily Carr, Kate Schapira, Johanna Skibsrud, Joshua Marie Wilkinson, David McGimpsey, Richard Froude, Marilyn Irwin, Carrie Olivia Adams, Aaron Tucker, Mercedes Eng, Jean Donnelly, Pearl Pirie, Valerie Coulton, Lesley Yalen and Andy Weaver.

happy new year! again + again,

some christmas (again), etcetera;

Given father-in-law was good enough to gift a camera this year, I was able to take pictures far better than the ones from Montebello [see my pre-Christmas Christmas post from Montebello, here]. Here you can see our lovely tree, for example.

December 24, 2014: This was my first non-Glengarry Christmas [see last year's, for example, here], deciding some time ago that it was perhaps our turn to host, given the fact that we now have the space. In our usual tradition of McLennan gathering on Christmas Eve Day for dinner and gifts, we hosted my sister and her brood, our father, and my elder daughter, Kate, all of whom arrived for a big turkey dinner prepared by myself and Christine (even with the fact that she worked half a day on Christmas Eve). It might have seemed like a lot, and yet, it wasn't--I spent Monday morning doing all of my baking (two apple pies and various cookies), and made scalloped potatoes in the slow-cooker, allowing the bulk of the work to be spread out over such a period that none of it felt overwhelming.

Apparently Christine isn't familiar with the tradition of jellied salads. Her mother suggested it was "very British," but I know we've always had it. My father loves it.

And then, of course, crackers: I spent far too long at the store worried about which ones to get (the ones I ended up with were fine): overwhelmed with options, it was nearly too much.

This year was far more entertaining than last year, simply for the fact that Rose is now big enough to actually enjoy what is happening around her. And she not only loves hanging out with her cousins, but it is quite wonderful to see how she and Kate get along (rather famously, I would say). I would have taken more photos of the day, but it isn't always easy when one is hosting.

We had dinner, presents, conversation and drinks. Kate even helped Rose have her evening bath. And then three days of half-heartedly cleaning the house, again (there wasn't much, post-Christmas; we were just worn out).

December 25, 2014: Christmas morning was stockings for Rose and Kate, and a couple of presents that Christine wanted to save for the wee babe. We lingered with coffee, and Rose tore at wrapping paper. But not for long. We delivered Kate home, for the sake of her own household Christmas, and arrived at mother-in-law's house for the traditional eggs benedict and mimosas that Christine loves so much. Some traditions we can't do without. Her brother was there also, with wife Alexis and newborn(ish) Duncan, who Rose is still adjusting to. She keeps attempting to smush his face, when she isn't hugging him or kissing his face or head (she has yet to learn "gentle"). And then another big dinner, with Christine's Uncle Richard and Aunt Marie-Paul. There were even a series of photos (which I have not yet seen) of Rose and new cousin Duncan together in their matching Hudson's Bay sweaters, in which she leans over to hug him. Why did I not take more photos?

new from above/ground press: Massey, beaulieu, McElroy + The Peter F. Yacht Club!

Strange Fits of Beauty & Light
Karen Massey
$4
See link here for more information

transcend transcribe transfigure transform transgress
derek beaulieu
$6
See link here for more information

The Doxologies
Gil McElroy
$4
See link here for more information

Peter F. Yacht Club #21
$6
See link here for more information

keep an eye on the above/ground press blog for author interviews, new writing, reviews, upcoming readings and tons of other material;

published in Ottawa by above/ground press
December 2014
a/g subscribers receive a complimentary copy of each

and don’t forget about the 2015 above/ground press subscriptions; still available!

To order, send cheques (add $1 for postage; outside Canada, add $2) to: rob mclennan, 2423 Alta Vista Drive, Ottawa ON K1H 7M9 or paypal (above). Scroll down here to see various backlist titles (many, many things are still in print).

Review copies of any title (while supplies last) also available, upon request.

Forthcoming chapbooks by ryan fitzpatrick, Elizabeth Robinson and rob mclennan, and watch for a new “poem” broadsheet on the blog soon by Chris Johnson!

12 or 20 (second series) questions with Stevie Howell

Stevie Howell writes, studies psych, and works in a hospital. Read more at www.steviehowell.ca.

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?
Most of the poems in Sharps were published in different places over the last four years, but it feels weirdly final to have a singular artifact. Sharps contains most of all I’ve ever written to date, and I feel like a shark--I have to keep moving, or else.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I loved short fiction first. Narrative elements and a good amount of dialogue sneak in to many of my poems. And I can’t seem to avoid creating characters. There’s a book of short stories already done in my mind that I plan to spend QT with in 2015.

The fiction planet feels billions of light years away from poetry, professionally. The gap is intimidating--but the fact of distance is the worst reason not to explore, I know.

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 write s-l-o-w. A draft usually comes out in one go. I binge-toy like a cat with nip for a few days. Then I leave it for at least a few weeks, and come back to it with new eyes. Lots of times, it feels like when you try and describe a dream to someone else. Dead-eyed. Except I’m the one on the outside the vision I had, and it just can’t be raised. But occasionally it can.

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?
Honestly, many of my poems begin with me ranting in bed at night.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I can’t manage to feel one way about readings. The vibes are so variable and I can’t be the mountain. If someone sneezes, I say, “Oh no! They don’t care at all!” Then I say, “They can’t help it, it’s a reflex! Get over yourself!” And it feels like I’m Richard E. Grant in How to Get Ahead in Advertising, fighting with my giant boil co-head in the middle of a dinner party.

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?
I don’t have a lot of patience for theory. But I have many concerns. I get this line in my head from some daytime TV talk show I saw, when they had a cook on as a guest. She’s shoving onions around in a frying pan, and he host asks her, “How did you start cooking? Did you go to culinary school?” And she hollers: “I went to the school of MAMA!” That’s pretty much my background with theory.

I’m with C. Wright Mills on this -- “Let every man be his own methodologist.”

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?
I think the writer’s job is, or ought to be, to “tell it like is,” [Otis Redding link]:
http://grooveshark.com/#!/s/Tell+It+Like+It+Is/2ERgYi?src=5 including, especially, to level with themselves.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
It ought not be difficult. If it’s difficult, you’re likely with the wrong editor, or are not ready to publish. I had some false starts--I had one guy have me buy him endless beer only to hear him tell me over and again stuff like, “I don’t know what to do with this…Everything you do is a contrivance…” And then try and grab my ass.

An editor’s job isn’t to indulge you, or to buy your drinks, but it’s useless to work with someone who doesn’t get or respect you, just because they’ve got a “name.” I’d say to save your awe for outer space and the dead. I’ve learned good people never want to accentuate or exploit an interpersonal gap.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
•    “Time itself performs miracles.” -- George Wald

•    “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” -- Maya Angelou

•     “I’m driven by two main philosophies: Learn more about the world than I knew yesterday and lessen the suffering of others.” -- Neil deGrasse Tyson

•    “Not everything that is faced can be changed. But nothing can be changed until it is faced.” -- James Baldwin

•    “I have learned that when things are beautiful, to just keep on.” -- Bill Callahan

•    "YOU cannot give me ANY advice!" -- Kanye West

10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres (poetry to critical prose)? What do you see as the appeal?
I started writing reviews to force an opportunity to read contemporary stuff widely, and to get used to working with editors and deadlines. It amused me that I could get paid to read, as I would have been reading something anyway, and as paid work had, until then, been yoked to creative sublimation...

But I’ll be honest. I feel like I cut my teeth on other people who were also just trying to learn and grow, and I regret some of it. I don’t think I have superhuman perceptual abilities, or that my experience is a sufficient substitute for your own.

11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?
Routine is such a vibe killer. I totally need the spirit to move me.

12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
I usually turn to Owen Pallett or Kid Cudi. Or I give it a rest and retreat a while into cinematic guilty-not-guilty pleasures in order to recharge, like Conan the Barbarian.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Cigarette smoke :(

and Pledge :(

14 - David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?
I feel way, way more influenced by everyday people I meet through my job in a hospital, my psych studies and cognitive science in general, and all other arts combined. Nature scares me.

15 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
The most important writers to me are Andrew O’Hagan, James Baldwin, W.H. Auden, Talib Kweli, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Paul Virilio, Lauryn Hill, and Bill Callahan.

16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Live somewhere else for a purposeful reason in walking distance to an ocean. Get my head all the way around music theory. Learn Irish and Arabic. Adopt a merle sheltie and/or a snow-white cat.

17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?
I am attempting another occupation. I’m in the early days working toward becoming a cognitive neuropsychologist.

18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
I wrote last. I did everything else first.

19 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
Books: CA Conrad’s Book of Frank. Eimear McBride’s A Girl is a Half-formed Thing. Claudia Rankine’s Citizen. George Saunders’ 10th of December. Ken Babstock’s On Malice. Saeed Jones’ Prelude to a Bruise.

Films: The Tree of Life . When We Were Kings . The Great Dictator .

...but why no music: I gotta say Chassol’s Indiamore, Owen Pallett, In Conflict, J.Cole’s 2014 Forest Hills Drive, D’Angelo’s Black Messiah, and Bill Callahan’s Dream River.

20 - What are you currently working on?
Biology labs.

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