12 or 20 (second series) questions with Jes Battis
Jes Battis (they/them) teaches literature andcreative writing at the University of Regina. They’ve published poems in TheEx-Puritan, The Malahat Review, The Capilano Review and Poetry Is Dead, amongother literary magazines. They’ve also published creative nonfiction in The LosAngeles Review of Books and Strange Horizons. They are the author of the OccultSpecial Investigator series (shortlisted for the Sunburst Award), the ParallelParks series and, most recently, The Winter Knight with ECW.
1 - How did your first book change your life? How does yourmost recent work compare to your previous? How does it feeldifferent?
My first book was academic (a study of horror television),and then my first novel, Night Child, was a forensic thriller. That book was life-changing in a way, becauseit got some attention and made me wonder if I could write full-time and supportmyself (I couldn’t). I Hate Parties ismy debut poetry collection, and it’s made a more subtle appearance, with someevents scheduled and a few interviews. But I think poetry tends to feel a bit more quiet and reflective than anovel, which always requires a marketing push.
2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say,fiction or non-fiction?
I came to fiction first, though I started writing poetrywhen I was fairly young. I have moreexperience working with fiction, but I’ve been warming up to poetry, and I’vebeen publishing poems in the background for almost a decade. I think a lot of writers hesitate to callthemselves poets, even when they have a collection or two out in theworld. A friend had to assure me that Iwas a poet, and so I reluctantly believe her.
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?
A poem usually appears with an image, or a line that I addto my notes app (or scrawl down in a notebook if I don’t want to grab myphone). The draft poem will usuallycoalesce pretty quickly around that line—I’ll hammer out something very roughin one sitting, and then keep coming back for edits. Sometimes I have to sneak up on a poem tofigure out what it’s really doing, and that can take anywhere from a few editsto several years. With fiction, I’llusually fumble through a first draft over the course of a few months, and thenspend about a year or more in edits, until it’s ready to show someone.
4 - Where does a poem or work of fiction usually begin foryou? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a largerproject, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?
With I Hate Parties, the title poem ended up beingcentral, but it was written fairly late compared with the other poems. Sometimes several poems will set a kind ofmood, and then the work involves figuring out how to attach them to similarpoems, but the mood itself can be enigmatic. My editors told me that these poems were about anxiety, which I supposeI did know, but it helps to hear it from an outside reader as well. With fiction, I usually see a scene or a fewlinked scenes, and then I spend a lot of time thinking who those flashes ofcharacter might be, and how they can populate the scenes in a meaningfulway. Some characters will still appearlate in the game and surprise you.
5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creativeprocess? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I do like reading—both poetry and prose—because there’s aperformance aspect to it that can be quite fun. I always learn a bit more about the work by reading it. But reading personal/lyrical poetry can alsobe challenging, and I’m not always sure if a poem wants to be read aloud untilI’m in the middle of it. Festivals canbe energizing but also extremely draining, and I always need a few days torecover.
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’m a queer, nonbinary, autistic person, and all of thoseways of being are regularly challenged by conservative governments and medicalableism. I’m inspired by theorists likeEli Clare, Lauren Berlant, and Sara Ahmed, who talk about the regulatory forcesthat are always trying to write queer, trans, and disabled people out ofexistence. I think it’s still rare tosee queer autistic representation, in spite of the fact that I have so manyfriends who are queer, trans, and neurodiverse in some way. In general, I try to approach questions thatI’ve always found challenging, like: Howdo people communicate with each other? How do we experience time and space in different ways? What does it mean to be social? What does it mean to experience gender in acreative way? How can we be fiercelyqueer and trans in conservative spaces that would rather we not exist?
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?
I’m not sure there’s one role for a writer, but our conceptof “writer” is heavily involved in capitalism and colonialism. Maybe one role or goal of writing is tochallenge that. For some, existing as awriter is an act of resistance—existing at all—is an act of resistance. I don’t think queer and trans writers “owe” aparticular kind of story to a particular audience, but we can certainly modeldifferent stories and lives for a variety of readers. We should also ask what the publishingindustry owes us as writers who engage in traditional publishing. A living wage, and freedom to criticize thesystems that facilitate our erasure, seems like a good start.
8 - Do you find the process of working with an outsideeditor difficult or essential (or both)?
A good editorial relationship, even if it’s transactional,can improve your work and even help you get to the bottom of what you’re tryingto say. When I first receive aneditorial memo or feedback, it can be a bit overwhelming. But good editors will work with youpatiently, and respect your voice as a writer. Still—don’t be afraid to write stet (“let it stand”) next to aline or sentence that you want to keep, even if your copy-editor doesn’tnecessarily get it.
9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (notnecessarily given to you directly)?
Annie Dillard says, in her manual on writing, that we shouldall write the stories that we’ve never heard before—the ones clawing to getout. I do think it’s good to writethings that scare you, and things that make you feel simultaneously seen andvulnerable. Writing for a community canbe helpful (and challenging); writing for a specific audience or marketingdemographic will often just get in the way of the story you want to tell andneed to hear.
10 - How easy has it been for you to move between genres(poetry to fiction to essays)? What do you see as the appeal?
I think both poetry and fiction can sharequalities—particularly the idea of confession—but poetry sometimes feels a bitmore urgent. Conversely, it can also beenigmatic enough to surround a difficult moment in syntactic bubble wrap, soyou can approach it and re-experience it more easily. Both essays and poems can challenge ideas ofcentrality and chronology as well—Michael Trussler does this in lovely ways inwork like The Sunday Book.
11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or doyou even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?
This depends on health, schedule, energy, and capacity. Generally, I like to write for a bit in themorning, but not every day. If I’m closeto finishing a fiction manuscript, I’ll work on it more regularly, but I stillhave to factor in time off because I can’t write every day. With poetry, it’s a bit more sporadic. I might write several draft poems over thecourse of a few weeks, and then nothing for a month after. I went six years between novels, aswell. The writing always takes longerthan you think it will, and it has to find its way into the cracks. Living can feel like a full-time job, andthere are stretches of time when I’m just trying to exist, but the writing isalways collecting like dust in the background—one day I’ll swipe my fingeracross the mental furniture and realize that there are multiple storiesthere.
12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn orreturn for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
I get a lot of inspiration from working with creativewriting students, though I don’t often write a lot while I’m teaching. But being in proximity to their work can helpto keep the energy circulating. I alsowatch shows with a narrative emphasis, listen to podcasts, and try to read asmuch as I can. The idea of it beingstalled—that writing might be a Ford F150 stuck on the side of the road—is, Ithink, an outgrowth of capitalism. Maybewe can think of it more as resting.
13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Earl Gray tea, or spaghetti sauce thickening. Also cow shit, because I grew up in a farmtown.
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 is a big influence for crafting the mood of aparticular scene. I also loveinteracting with animals and seeing how they view the world, and how we cancommunicate when we don’t speak the same language. Well-crafted films can help with narrativework, and bad films can also remind you what to avoid. I also just love wandering around with mypartner, walking through small-town malls, talking pictures of everydaylife—ideas will often materialize when I’m vagabonding.
15 - What other writers or writings are important for yourwork, or simply your life outside of your work?
I grew up on the work of feminist fantasy andscience-fiction writers like Ursula K. Le Guin, Mercedes Lackey, and Tanya Huff—their particular styles helped me to think about the ethics ofworldbuilding. I read a lot of transwriters because their perspective often feels like home to me: Casey Plett, Hazel Jane Plante, Joss Lake,Kai Cheng Thom, Lee Mandelo. In terms ofpoetry, I tend to like narrative poetry with a queer slant: Kayla Czaga, Ben Ladouceur, Saeed Jones, Anne Carson.
16 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
Learn Scottish Gaelic to reconnect with part of myheritage. Learn ASL. Keep unmasking socially until I can actuallyjust be who I am in a social setting, without all the internal regulation andanxiety.
17 - If you could pick any other occupation to attempt, whatwould it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would have ended up doinghad you not been a writer?
I think I’d enjoy being a librarian, though I’m sure a lotof writers and academics say that. Iactually loved working in a photo lab in the 90s, and wouldn’t mind developingpictures again, if there’s ever some kind of 35mm renaissance.
18 - What made you write, as opposed to doing somethingelse?
Easy: I would havedied if I couldn’t write.
19 - What was the last great book you read? What was thelast great film?
I really enjoyed Any Other City, by Hazel JanePlante. I also loved watching I Sawthe TV Glow and All Of Us Strangers.
20 - What are you currently working on?
A few different projects. A small-town queer romance with witches. A novella about dragons in the nineties. A story about Scottish myths. Anda poetry manuscript focused on TV.
