12 or 20 (second series) questions with Douglas Cole
Douglas Cole haspublished eight poetry collections, including
The Cabin at the End of the World
, winner of a Best Poetry Award in the American Book Fest, and thenovel
The White Field
,winner of the American Fiction Award. His work has appeared in journals such asBeloit Poetry, Fiction International, Valpariaso, The Gallway Review and Two Hawks Quarterly.Hecontributes a regular column, “Trading Fours,” to the magazine, Jerry Jazz Musician. Healso edits the American Writers section of ReadCarpet, a journal of international writing produced in Columbia.
Inaddition to the American Fiction Award, his screenplay of The White Field won BestUnproduced Screenplay award in the Elegant Film Festival. He has beenawarded the Leslie Hunt Memorial prize in poetry, the Best of Poetry Award fromClapboard House, First Prize in the “Picture Worth 500 Words” from Tattoo Highway, and theEditors’ Choice Award in fiction by RiverSedge.He has been nominated Six times for a Pushcart and Eight times for Best of theNet. His website is https://douglastcole.com.
1 - How did your firstbook change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous?How does it feel different?
The first book Ipublished was a short collection of poetry. That opened some doors, I think,that led to other publishers perhaps looking more seriously at my work. Each publication after that raised a few moreeyebrows, journal editors paid more attention, and it all changed my way ofthinking about the publishing process, the collaborative part of which I enjoy.
2 - How did you come topoetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I didn’t really come topoetry first, but it was the first book form I published. I started writingfiction and poetry and had no plan to focus on one or the other. So, fiction,poetry, drama, essay and even screenplay writing all have poetry in them. Theforms are just different.
3 - How long does it taketo start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially comequickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to theirfinal shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?
I don’t tend to dragthrough fallow periods, as such. I also waited to publish until I had what feltlike a good amount of work. When I’ve got something I feel pretty sure I wantto make public by publishing, I tend to work quickly in the sense that I know I’mchanging and given enough time I could change my thinking about a pieceinfinitely, so I try to stay focused so that the style or vision or whateverwon’t suffer from gaps in attention. Some first drafts are just born ready andrequire only minor adjustments. Some, and I enjoy this journey, might get torndown to the studs and built up again, maybe unrecognizable to anyone else, butI know where they came from.
4 - Where does a poem orwork of prose usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that endup combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book"from the very beginning?
It’s fun to work onsomething that can be more or less completed in a day: a poem draft or shortstory draft. They build up and then, hmmm, that could make a book. Sometimes aseries of poems come together, and there’s a chapter. They don’t always go quicky,though. But I have set out to craft a novel, knowing I am making a novel. In thosesituations, I tend to set mini deadlines of manageable parts that will fit intoa book. Sometimes, there’s just this whole story in my head and I have to stickto the road and get to the destination, the ending, if I have an idea what thatis.
5 - Are public readingspart of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer whoenjoys doing readings?
I’ve spent a lot of timeteaching as well, so that’s helped my confidence in front of a group. Dependingon the setting, reading can be a lot of fun, especially if the audience is intoit and I can feel that lock-in, like we’re having a collective dream. Also, agood part about the idea of reading is that it reminds me that with poetry orprose, the words have to travel elegantly through the mouth. I feel that’s atarget: not only to make whatever it is be beautiful on the page but beautifulto the ear. Reading aloud puts a spotlight on that.
6 - Do you have anytheoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are youtrying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questionsare?
Fascinating. I think ofwriting as an exploration. I’m less attracted to presenting textbook cases thandoing a forensic close up. If the message is clear, what’s the point? I like alittle mystery in what I read and write. I want the work to be more than thesum of my ideas and edits, even if that sounds odd. Art should be a window nota sandwich board. In other words, being too attached to “meaning” is likeputting blinders on. Not that random, excruciatingly private references andhaphazard language or automatic writing are better, but in the process, alittle of that might open some thought, some vision I wouldn’t have had if Istuck to thinking I want to say X or Y or whatever.
7 – What do you see thecurrent role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? Whatdo you think the role of the writer should be?
The diversity of writersand their creations is our culture. I think writers both clarify theexperience we’re having in this life in beautiful ways, acting as mirrors,commentators, guides. And I think writers (like all artists) are the creatorsof our religions, philosophies, laws, histories. All of them describing theelephant and some dreaming of bigger fish than that.
8 - Do you find theprocess of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I’ve been pretty lucky towork with good editors, some great. Only once did I ever work with an editorwho seemed less clear as the process continued. I pulled that piece eventuallybecause it seemed like the process was going in circles and had less to do withthe work than something else. So, by the time I’m ready to try and publishsomething, I relish the input.
9 - What is the bestpiece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
“Get off the subject.”(R. Hugo)
10 - How easy has it beenfor you to move between genres (poetry to fiction to screenplays)? What do yousee as the appeal?
They’re different clothesthat all fit well. And I like the way they inform each other. A little poetrymight help a flat piece of prose. A little narrative continuity might help animpressionistic, lyrical poem keep its feet on the ground. In the same way youshould know all the religions and philosophies but keep them out of your art, Ithink you should work in all the forms and treat them equally as language asmuch as formal adventures.
11 - What kind of writingroutine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day(for you) begin?
Well, I like to get up,have a cup of coffee, read a little, write a little, start the day with my headin the words. Sometimes a few fleeting dream images come along, and I oftenlike to write them down because I think that’s information, experience, welargely dismiss as irrelevant or just too confusing to bother with. But it’s agreat mystery well we’re nightly dropped into, and I think worth exploring, andgood practice for getting beyond the limited, rational, conscious ways we thinkand feel about our lives.
12 - When your writinggets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word)inspiration?
Reading. Walking. Playingguitar. And there’s no law against taking a break. While I love the mystery andexploration of writing, I’ve never felt I must be brilliant every moment.Sometimes writing is just a way to remind myself how to see, how to think moreopenly. I tend to be pretty disciplined about writing something each day, justfor the fun of it. It doesn’t have to be on the way to a poem or story orpublication. In fact, I didn’t publish for a long time to avoid the mindsetthat I need to “produce.”
13 - What fragrancereminds you of home?
Rain, wisteria,woodsmoke, the sea.
14 - David W. McFaddenonce said that books come from books, but are there any other forms thatinfluence your work, whether nature, music, science or visual art?
All of it. Movies, songs,paintings, dreams, but some of the very best sources have come from overheardconversations or a moment a scene unfolds on the corner of 3rd and PikeStreet on the way to work. So, always be alert!
15 - What other writersor writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of yourwork?
Roethke. Great teacher ofthe music. Patti Smith. I love the poetry of her language. She talks to you.But it’s beautiful poetry too! Borges. I love the surreal but again poeticlanguage in his writing.
16 - What would you liketo do that you haven't yet done?
I think I really want to direct.
17 - If you could pickany other occupation to attempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do youthink you would have ended up doing had you not been a writer?
I love music, but I’venever felt confident about my singing voice. I also teach, and I love that. Iwould have liked to be an astronaut, but we’re not really going anywhere beyondthe solar system, so, I think I’ll wait.
18 - What made you write,as opposed to doing something else?
It was just a fun thing Icould do on my own, anywhere, anytime, no technology beyond a pen and paperneeded.
19 - What was the lastgreat book you read? What was the last great film?
Great book…maybeMurakami’s Wind-up Bird Chronicle. I wrote a lot of notes in themargins. I also really loved Joy Harjo’s Crazy Brave. The last greatfilm I saw…I liked Alejandro Iñárritu’s Bardo.
20 - What are youcurrently working on?
I’m editing another Bookof poetry set for publication later this year called Drifter, poetrybased on Guy Debord (French writer, part of the Situationists International)and his ideas on the dérive. “One of the basic situationist practices is thedérive [literally: “drifting”], a technique of rapid passage through variedambiances. Dérives involve playful-constructive behavior and awareness ofpsychogeographical effects, and are thus quite different from the classicnotions of journey or stroll.”
