12 or 20 (second series) questions with Eugenia Leigh

Eugenia Leigh is aKorean American poet and the author of two poetry collections, Bianca (FourWay Books, 2023) and Blood, Sparrows and Sparrows (Four Way Books,2014), winner of the Late-Night Library's Debut-litzer Prize in Poetry selectedby Arisa White, as well as a finalist for both the National Poetry Series andthe Yale Series of Younger Poets. Poems from Bianca received Poetry magazine’sBess Hokin Prize and have appeared in numerous publications including TheAtlantic, The Nation, Ploughshares, and the Best of the Netanthology. Her essays have appeared in TIME, The Rumpus, andelsewhere. Eugenia received her MFA from Sarah Lawrence College and serves as aPoetry Editor at The Adroit Journal and as the Valentines Editor at Honey Literary .

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does yourmost recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?

My firstbook, Blood, Sparrows and Sparrows, and my recent collection, Bianca,were published nine years apart, and like any siblings, they are both similarand vastly different from each other. They share the narrative of childhoodabuse, domestic violence, and parental incarceration, but my first book engagesthe subject from the perspective of a young adult child who processes thatworld with more surreal language, more imagination, more experimentation on thepage.

Bianca was written after Ibecame a mother and after I was diagnosed with both CPTSD and bipolar II disorder—experiencesthat gave me access to a much-delayed rage and much-needed vocabulary that ledto shattering clarity about my past. One goal for this book was to convey thatclarity through my poems.

If Blood,Sparrows and Sparrows changed my life, it was maybe because that book gaveme permission to identify myself as a poet. I felt I’d earned that label, whichmy father continued to reject. It was also the book that taught me toprioritize myself, as its launch came with a difficult decision to estrangemyself from my father and his side of the family.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say,fiction or non-fiction?

Idabbled in all genres as a child and as a teenage writer, but I took severalpoetry workshops in college at UCLA, where I was fortunate enough to work withHarryette Mullen, Joy Harjo, and Stephen Yenser. I only applied to poetryworkshops because the creative writing concentration was my only way out oftaking difficult literature classes I wanted to avoid as an English major. Inaddition to working almost full-time while in school, I was also dealing with alot of real-time trauma involving my father who had just left years of prisonvia deportation, and writing poems sounded more manageable than writingmulti-page papers about Chaucer or Milton.

Twoyears after college, when I decided to shoot for an MFA, I initially planned tostudy fiction because I was enamored with Salvador Plascencia’s The Peopleof Paper. If I’m being honest, I was probably also acutely aware that poetsdidn’t make money (and had a misguided understanding of what novelists made —ha!). Having grown up in poverty for much of my childhood, and then in theworking class, I couldn’t imagine taking out graduate school loans to follow apassion with no real hope of an income down the road.

But oneof my former literature professors, Karen E. Rowe, hesitated to write a letterof recommendation for fiction and reminded me that I was a poet, that my bestwork was in poetry, and that I should follow that path. I trusted her—and Ialso found that working on a poetry manuscript came much easier to me than afiction manuscript—so I listened to that advice, and here I am. I do write andhave published essays, and one of those essays appears at the center of Bianca,but time will tell whether I have an entire book of prose in me.

3 - How long does it take to start any particular writingproject? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Dofirst drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work comeout of copious notes?

My firstdrafts often look nothing like my final drafts. It takes me forever to write apoem draft, and then I revise maniacally before I feel comfortable sending apoem out for publication. I also often abandon poem drafts for months beforereturning to them with fresh eyes. I simply don’t trust my early drafts and mustcreate distance before I can revise them. To give you an idea: one of my poemsin Bianca began when I was single and child-free, and the final draftcontains an anecdote about my husband and son.

Essayscome a bit faster, but I do take notes for months before I begin writing adraft. I usually come to the blank page with pages of notes and then figure outhow to puzzle the pieces together. Essays are like collages to me. I approachpoems with more faith and wait for revelations.

4 - Where does a poem usually begin for you? Are you anauthor of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are youworking on a "book" from the very beginning?

I haveyet to write toward a book project idea, though working on a “project” soundslike a fun dream that I’d love to try. Both of my books began with individual,disparate poems that, at some point, began to speak to each other until itoccurred to me that I had a book. This usually happens at the point when I haveabout 60-75% of the poems required for a book, and then I’ll write theremaining poems with that book in mind. It’s usually the poems I write towardthe end with the book in mind that wind up being my favorite, most “impressive”pieces. Maybe that’s my sign to attempt a book project after all.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creativeprocess? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

Oh, Iabsolutely love giving readings. I write poems to connect with people, to givevoice to the ugly experiences we don’t typically advertise. I write to silenceshame, and I think there’s incredible power in speaking out these kinds ofpoems, especially in community. When I first started writing poems, I alsobecame an avid fan of spoken word poetry thanks to my former poet roommate, sothat’s also part of the literary history I’ve long studied and admired. And ofcourse, before printed books existed, the earliest poets were rooted in theoral tradition.

There’san art to bringing a poem to life onstage. To ensure every word is heard, everyemotion is felt. I practice my sets in front of the mirror, record them overand over, the whole nine yards, but I still get nervous sometimes maybe becauseI put so much weight on what a reading can achieve. A public reading is aunique chance to create authentic emotional intimacy with complete strangers(or friends) face-to-face for 10 to 30 minutes with minimal distractions. Intoday’s Internet culture, that kind of interaction is pure gold.

6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind yourwriting? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? Whatdo you even think the current questions are?

I wanteverything I write to take a risk. Whether in content or in its artistry. Thequestion I am writing toward is one Laure-Anne Bosselaar taught me to ask: whydid this poem have to be written? Why couldn’t the poet remain silent?I’m also constantly conscious of how for many of us, myself included, “poetryis not a luxury,” as Audre Lorde famously wrote. How do I make that clear onthe page? After a book is written, I ask myself, what risks can I take nextthat I haven’t yet dared to take?

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being inlarger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writershould be?

“Therole of the artist is to make the revolution irresistible.” — Toni Cade Bambara

“Perhapspoetry is another of science’s deepest roots: the capacity to see beyond thevisible.” — Carlo Rovelli

“I’m notasking you to describe the rain falling the night the archangel arrived; I’mdemanding that you get me wet. Make up your mind, Mr. Writer, and for once inyour life be the flower that smells rather than the chronicler of the aroma.” —Eduardo Galeano

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outsideeditor difficult or essential (or both)?

Essential!Painful to the ego maybe, but essential. A good editor can see what you’retrying to accomplish and help you get there more efficiently. They can alsocall out your weaknesses that are hard to spot when you’ve looked at yourmanuscript a thousand times. One of my absolute favorite things about Four WayBooks is the way they graciously and meticulously provide edits for our books. Twoeditors went through my manuscript to offer detailed feedback that I was freeto accept or reject. The first note I got for Bianca was that I used theword “rage” way too many times throughout the manuscript. It deadened theeffect and sometimes didn’t leave room for actual rage to simply existwithout having to announce itself. I took out a bunch of rages and left aselect few where necessary, but I absolutely loved that they caught this. LikeI said earlier, I don’t trust my own writing, so I’m generally eager for feedbackfrom editors I trust.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (notnecessarily given to you directly)?

MarieHowe told a graduate workshop I took to “write as if everyone you love isdead.” Don’t think about other people’s reactions to your work. Just get it alldown. Kimiko Hahn said the same to me years later at a Kundiman retreat. Don’tbring your fears to the table when you write. Write everything that comes toyou. Then later, once it’s written, you can evaluate each piece and ask whetheryou’re comfortable with publishing it. Writing and publishing are two separatebeasts. Don’t let the idea of publishing limit your writing.

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

I beganwriting poems during the heyday of Xanga and Blogger, where I wassimultaneously writing blogs that read as very casual essays. So both energieshave always existed in my writing. When I took a nonfiction workshop with Luis Alberto Urrea during my one year I attempted a PhD program, I thought I wouldlearn to write essays, but I came out realizing that I already knew how—atleast in one way. Of course, there are a myriad other ways I still have yet tolearn. But it’s only now that I’m learning some editors will actually publishmy essays, too.

At therisk of making a gross generalization, I’d say prose is better able than poetryto cushion saccharine emotion or cliché—the kinds of events that make usbelieve in angels or happy endings. It’s harder to take a spoonful of sugarstraight versus drinking a spoonful of sugar stirred into a glass of water. Youcan sneak sweetness into prose or maybe also into a longer narrative poembecause there is more space to contain a wide range of human experience tojustify belief in something so cloyingly romantic. I say this as a cynic. Somepeople write happy poems all the time and manage to convince us of them. But Ineed space to break a heart before I can mend it. And poetry can do that to anextent, but prose can really hit you in the gut with it because you’re forcedto stay with it longer and go on a longer rollercoaster ride with the characters.

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

I don’thave a solid writing routine, which I hate. So I recently reached out to threewriter friends I admire who work their asses off and asked them to keep meaccountable to writing at least one line every day before I turn 40 next year.I started out trying to write a “real” poem draft each day and burned myselfout after two days, and thanks to some advice from one of those friends, I nowwrite a few lines in my notes app on days when I can’t get to a desk.

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

Sciencearticles. Novels. Poetry books that do something I have not yet done or maybewant to do. Instagram memes. Old journals. Old text messages. Anything withinreach really.

13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?

Muskreminds me of being trapped in an unairconditioned car in the Chicago heat onthe way to church with my parents as a child. To this day, I get nauseated whenI get a whiff of a perfume or cologne that contains musk. I can’t stand it.

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

Alright,I’ll be very honest and admit emo song lyrics heavily influenced my first book,which I wrote in my twenties. I’ve also stolen bits of revelation from pastsermons. After my first book, during a spell when I was clinically depressed fora couple of years, I was hardly writing and hardly reading, so I subscribed to TheScientific American, which later inspired two poems in Bianca. Ithink it’s safe to say my therapy appointments have also heavily influencedthis recent book. Also, a very accessible book called The Order of Timeby Italian theoretical physicist, Carlo Rovelli.

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

Thebooks I turned to over and over as I wrote Bianca were Hybrida byTina Chang, The Undertaker’s Daughter by Toi Derricotte, and StillLife with Two Dead Peacocks and a Girl by Diane Seuss, all of Marie Howe’s books, among many others.

Thereare a number of writers whose voices I hear lately—whose conversations Iremember—when my internal critic gets loud, and I need to remember who I am.These are the writers whose genuine encouragement and support for Bianca havetruly buoyed me during this past year: Hanif Abdurraqib, Mahogany L. Browne, Jennifer S. Cheng, Su Cho, Victoria Cho, Noah Arhm Choi, Jessica Cuello, Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach, Danielle DeTiberus, Linda Harris Dolan, Tarfia Faizullah, Joan Kwon Glass, Sarah Kain Gutowski, K. Iver, Keetje Kuipers, Jason Koo, Iris Law, Hannah Matheson, Rita Mookerjee, Cassie Mannes Murray, Patrick Rosal, Brenda Shaughnessy, R.A. Villanueva, and Keith S. Wilson. I also feel way less alonein my neuroses and in all things poetry when I talk to poets Janine Joseph,Sophie Klahr, and Brenna Womer because they have the best sense of dark humor.

16 – What would you like to do that you haven’t yet done?

I’d liketo see the Northern Lights.

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

Thereare multiple alternate versions of me I’ve thought through in a lot of detail. Iloved fashion as a teenager and used to make some of my own clothes and pursespartly because my mom made a lot of our clothes when my sisters and I were verysmall. Some of my happiest memories involve the fabric store. I designed my ownprom dress when I was a high school junior, which my mom sewed for me. So inone reality, I am probably a fashion designer.

Inanother universe, I probably became an extreme version of my corporate self.For several years after my MFA, I worked as an executive assistant to c-levelexecutives in NYC finance firms. At the last of those jobs, at a fintechstart-up attached to a large hedge fund, I had to hire four people to replaceme. I got a big kick out of being able to be efficient, smart, and necessary inthese big money-churning machines. Most days, I consider myself ananticapitalist, but sometimes I think I could have become the most annoyingspokesperson for capitalism if things had turned out a different way.

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

A largepart of it was that I had many creative interests as a child, but my parentshad no money to pay for dance lessons or voice lessons or art classes or evenbasic materials. All I wanted as a kid was one of those 96-crayon Crayola boxeswith the built-in sharpener and every shade of red with their delicious names.I turned to writing because I didn’t need lessons or materials other than apiece of paper, a pencil, and my imagination to make a story.

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

Book:Vievee Francis’s The Shared World. Film: Kill Boksoon on Netflix.

20 – What are you currently working on?

Hahahahahahahahahah *ignores thisquestion & shares a meme on Instagram*

12 or 20 (second series) questions;