12 or 20 (second series) questions with Sabrina Reeves
Sabrina Reeves
grew up in Boston and New York and currentlylives in Montreal. She founded the performance company Bluemouth Inc., withwhom she’s written and staged over twelve original works and performed all overthe world. She was awarded the Dean of Arts and Sciences Award for Excellencein Creative Writing upon completing her MFA at Concordia University in 2018.1- How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent workcompare to your previous? How does it feel different?
It feels like I’vebeen handed a permission slip to continue writing prose. My background is in writingfor theatre and performance, texts that are meant to be spoken aloud. I’m sure thereare writers who find performing their writing more daunting than simply leavingit on the page. But I find it much easier to perform my words than to trust thepaper to convey all the emotion. There are no qualifiers, no added emotions orgestures on the page. The words must speak for themselves. Did I choose theright ones? What if my ideas change and I later disagree with myself? There isa permanence to writing that is daunting. Also, the sustained focus of long-form prose was a new challenge for me. Building sentences that add up to sectionsthat add up to chapters that connect necessarily one to the other to build toan inevitable ending requires a very particular and sustained focus—and a fair numberof rewrites!
2- How did you come to performance texts first, as opposed to, say, poetry,fiction, or non-fiction?
I have been anactor for several decades. I co-founded the Toronto-based performancecollective Bluemouth inc. I think it was in this transition from performing inother people’s work to creating my own that my affinity for writing becameclear.
3- How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does yourwriting initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appearlooking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copiousnotes?
It’s a bit ofboth. Some of the chapters were written in one sitting and have changed verylittle since that first draft, while others have been worked over and over—someof the chapters I’d probably still be fiddling with if not for the deadline.
4- Where does a work usually begin for you? Are you an author of short piecesthat end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a"book" from the very beginning?
I would say thereare multiple parts to my process. In the beginning, I like to have several differentideas percolating simultaneously. I collect bits of this and that: sentences,observations, research, free writing, etc., and then loosely file them underdifferent project headings. The part of my brain that plans and has ideas aboutwhat I should write about is, unfortunately, not a very good writer. My controlledside is a bit too controlling; it doesn’t allow for anything unexpected, and sothe writing is stilted and dry. I do, however, find constraints very freeingonce I start to know what I’m working on. Nothing to do with content, strictlyform. For example, write sections of exactly 15 lines each, write lots of them,write until you have 20 pages worth and organize those into a coherent piece.Or write a page without using the letter S. Sometimes, those constraintsshort-circuit the “control freak” side of the brain and remind the creativeside that it has its own organizational logic and to trust that.
5- Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sortof writer who enjoys doing readings?
I love doingreadings.
6- Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds ofquestions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think thecurrent questions are?
This may seemredundant, but I am drawn to the power of story. I have friends in differentartistic disciplines, mostly dance and visual art. And sometimes they ask mefor feedback, and I can’t help but put a narrative to what I see, even if whatthey’re doing is, for example, exploring the color blue. I believe in Joan Didion’s line, “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” I suppose that hassomething to do with how I approach writing. I am drawn to women’s stories, mentalhealth issues, generational trauma, and the opioid epidemic, for example. But Ibelieve personal stories have the power to resonate on a mythic level, and sowould always approach any issue through personal narrative. One of my favoritewriters is Claire Keegan. Most of her stories are deceptively simple, usually setin Ireland, or some small rural place where not many people live, in a timethat is unspecified, featuring humble characters, and I don’t think she’swritten anything longer than a novella. So, never some grand issue-based opus.And yet, every single one of her stories hits me like she has reached acrosscontinents, stuck her hand in my chest and touched my heart. Images of theatomic bomb come to mind; each story, an atom that annihilates. Even the simpleststory can hold tremendous power.
7– What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Doess/he even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
I think the roleof the fiction writer is to make big issues personal by transmuting facts intostory.
8- Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult oressential (or both)?
Not difficult atall. For me, particularly writing something autobiographical, it provedessential. At times, I couldn’t see the forest for the trees; Shivaun reallyhelped me find the throughline.
9- What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to youdirectly)?
“The cave youfear to enter holds the treasure you seek.” Joseph Campbell
I think everyday, almost every moment we have the choice not to be afraid, to choose life.We are so driven by habit, but many of our habits came into being to protect usfrom things we were afraid of. It can be a daily effort to remind oneself thatwe have choices; we don’t have to still be afraid of things we were afraid ofas children.
10- How easy has it been for you to move between genres (performance texts/playsto fiction)? What do you see as the appeal?
Two of the mostimpactful books I read when I was younger were Faulkner’s The Sound and the Furyand Woolf’s The Waves. I didn’t realize it was “allowed” to write novelslike that. That rulebreaking that defined Modernism had a profound effect onme.
11 - What kind ofwriting routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does atypical day (for you) begin?
I free write everymorning. And I keep a small notebook with me to collect thoughts andobservations as they arise throughout the day. In nice weather, I walk on themountain (in Montreal) in the morning and then write in a café afterward. Lotsof thoughts come to me when I’m walking. The afternoons are a bit lesspredictable. I’d love to say, “I sit at my desk for three hours everyafternoon.” But that’s not true. I have two kids and my life is unpredictable.Sometimes I get more writing done in the afternoon, but sometimes not.
12- When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack ofa better word) inspiration?
Free writing,observation, and unusual writing constraints
13- What fragrance reminds you of home?
Lilacs.
14- David W. McFadden once said that books come from books, but are there anyother forms that influence your work, whether nature, music, science or visualart?
Little Crosses was heavilyinfluenced by the landscape of the southwest. In general, being in a verydifferent landscape or climate or city than the one I live in makes me noticemore. It awakens my curiosity. Another thing that inspires me: I have a lot offriends in the dance community and my daughter is a dancer, so we go to a lotof dance shows. When I am at a dance show, I am often flooded with ideas andimages. Dance is so much about architecture of space and rhythm and tone, andoddly there is something about plotting that is similar. The necessity ofarchitecture and orchestration. Often I will bring a very small pad of paperand a pen when I go to a show and I surreptitiously take notes.
15- What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply yourlife outside of your work?
Toni Morrison, Cormac McCarthy, James Hillman, Louise Erdrich, Claire Keegan, Jenny Offill, George Saunders, Miriam Toews, Joseph Campbell, Fyodor Dostoevsky, William Faulkner,and Virginia Woolf.
16- What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Live somewhereelse for an extended period. Japan and Ireland come to mind.
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 awriter?
I would love tobe a farmer or run a small bookshop. Not exactly an exciting response, butthere you have it. I have no desire to skydive or hike the Himalayas, thoughthat would be a more exciting answer.
18- What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
Though mycreativity takes various avenues, it is always fueled by storytelling. Iconsider myself a beginner in writing fiction, but in storytelling and dialogueand creating scenes that evoke emotion, I feel comfortable saying that this iswhat I do. From years of performing my writing in front of an audience, I havegained an immediate visceral sense of how to connect with an audience throughwords.
19- What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
I just finished LydiaDavis’s collection Our Strangers, which I loved and Dennis Lehane’s SmallMercies. And last week I saw the film American Fiction, which I reallyenjoyed.
20- What are you currently working on?
Various shortpieces, that will likely turn into longer pieces.
