12 or 20 (second series) questions with Estlin McPhee
Estlin McPhee is awriter and librarian who lives on the traditional territories of the Musqueam,Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh peoples. They hold an MFA in Creative Writing fromthe University of British Columbia and are the author of the poetry chapbook Shapeshifters(Rahila’s Ghost Press, 2018). For many years, they co-organized REVERB, a queerreading series in Vancouver. In Your Nature, Estlin's debut poetrycollection, is available from Brick Books.
1 - How did your first book or chapbook changeyour life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does itfeel different?
In Your Natureis my first book of poetry but it grew out of some of the concerns andinterests that emerged from my chapbook Shapeshifters.Crafting a thematic consistency, a strong binding thread, has felt verydifferent for a full-length book versus a chapbook. The chapbook and otherpublishing credits made me eligible to apply for a Canada Council grant, whichI received in 2019 to work on In YourNature – and that definitely changed my life.
2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposedto, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I actually came to poetry last – I wrote fictionand nonfiction before I started writing poetry in a serious way but forwhatever reason, I always had a sense that I wanted to publish in poetry beforeanother genre. So I suppose now I can finally start working on something else!
3 - How long does it take to start any particularwriting project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slowprocess? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or doesyour work come out of copious notes?
I am incredibly slow, at least at this point inmy life. There are poems in my book that I began writing in 2008. I’veexperienced the magic of a few poems flashing almost immediately into theirfinal shape but most of my poetry goes through draft after draft. In some casesall that remains of the initial composition is an image, a line or two, or evenjust the spark of it.
4 - Where does a poem usually begin for you? Areyou an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, orare you working on a "book" from the very beginning?
In YourNature is the first poetry book I’ve ever consciouslycrafted so it’s hard to say what my usual is. With this project, I found that Ihad a certain number of poems that just felt right together and then noticedgaps and possibilities in the space around them, which prompted me to work onspecific pieces for the book. But without that structure, a poem for metypically starts with some scrap I can’t get out of my head.
5 - Are public readings part of or counter toyour creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I like doing readings! They’ve become quitedifficult for me since I acquired Long Covid, as I get really bad shortness ofbreath in all kinds of circumstances but especially when speaking for longerthan about thirty seconds. I used to organize a reading series many years ago(with the wonderful Leah Horlick) so I find that kind of creative,community space rewarding and love connecting with people in that environment.But I have to be very judicious about when and what kinds of readings I can do(or even attend) now.
6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behindyour writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work?What do you even think the current questions are?
I’m interested in the same big questions I’vealways been interested in, which are all variations on what makes a lifemeaningful – how do we situate ourselves inside (or outside) of time, how do welive while also in relationship with death, how do we connect to a larger senseof spirit or story? With In Your Nature,I was also thinking through the question of the self and how the self retainsor alters its essence in periods of transformation. That sounds very lofty fora book about transmasculinity, werewolves, witches, and Christianity (etc.). Iam also interested in fun stuff.
7 – What do you see the current role of thewriter being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think therole of the writer should be?
I don’t know that there’s one, single role forthe writer in our larger culture, but perhaps many: to witness, to critique, toinform, to inspire, to incite, to entertain… Writing and thus writers can bemany different things. I love the medium of writing for how it can act as anasynchronous yet deeply connective experience – I live in disabled time now andhave to spend a lot of time alone. Sometimes, though not always, during thattime I’m fortunately able to read or listen to an audiobook. So much of theworld is open to me through reading and writing.
8 - Do you find the process of working with anoutside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
Absolutely essential! I was fortunate to workwith River Halenon my book and I’m immeasurably grateful for River’s guidance. It’s also justso nice to talk about the tiny things in your work – should I use this word orthat one? Should I cut the line here or there? – with someone else who’sinvested in those things. I think the only difficulty, with a good editor, isin being seen both in where you’re succeeding and where you’re falling short,and that’s ultimately a privilege and a benefit to the work, but it is veryvulnerable.
9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard(not necessarily given to you directly)?
I remember my high school writing teacher Silviasharing some advice on poetry that I still use all the time. It was essentiallyabout looking for the door (which I remember now as being red, but I may haveadded that visual detail myself) in a poem – finding the line or image thatacts like a portal, going through that door, and then letting the actual poememerge from there, while also letting whatever scaffolding was holding up thatdoor fall away. I think most writers know that feeling intuitively – the placewhere a poem is beckoning. But I know for myself I cling to the initialscaffolding of how a piece started, so I have to consciously look for thosedoors in what I’m working on and allow them to open and – maybe the greaterchallenge – allow the rest to fall away. Silvia also shared the idea of keepinga document of all the amazing lines that get trimmed as part of this process,which makes cutting those lines a little easier. She always credited thewriters whose advice she was sharing but I can’t remember any of the originalsources now. But those are two pieces that have become a major part of mypractice.
10 - How easy has it been for you to move betweengenres (poetry to non-fiction)? What do you see as the appeal?
I often write about the same things in differentgenres (or perhaps forms), so the appeal for me is in having a different anglefrom which to explore the same subject. I think prose nonfiction also can holdfactual information a bit more easily than poetry so I like that form forcertain topics.
11 - What kind of writing routine do you tend tokeep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?
I don’t have much of a routine for writing poetrybut I’ve always tended to write more in the evenings and can vanish into avortex when I’m writing and then emerge with the realization that I’ve missedmy bedtime and I’m going to be in trouble for the next day. Maybe that’s mywriting routine – messing up my other routines. I usually listen to some kindof basic pop music on repeat; if I actually want to listen to the music then Istop writing to listen, but I like having the background sound. That said, I’mstill trying to figure out what works best for me with the brain I have now, astoo much sensory stimulation can trigger really bad symptoms for me. I do havepretty good structure around reading still, and generally read some nonfictionwith breakfast, which seems like a good way to start my day.
12 - When your writing gets stalled, where do youturn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
I’ve been writing long enough that I trust theebbs and flows and I don’t worry about the stalls so much anymore. Writingalways returns to me, or I to it, perhaps.
13 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Warm cedar trees, wet soil, blackberry pie,lilacs. The smell of granola baking – my mother made granola when I was growingup and I’ve used a variation of her recipe my whole adult life so home hasalways had a honeyed oats smell to me.
14 - David W. McFadden once said that books comefrom books, but are there any other forms that influence your work, whethernature, music, science or visual art?
Definitely nature, music, history, theology,spirituality… Everything that I take an interest in influences my work. There’sa lot of (old) pop culture in my book. I like poetry as a way to be inconversation with the world both inside and around me.
15 - What other writers or writings are importantfor your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
So many! I’m very lucky to be friends andcolleagues with many generous, interesting, and talented writers. The writersthat I’ve spent the most literary time with lately are James Baldwin andSiegfried Sassoon, neither of whom are friends or colleagues except in my mind.
16 - What would you like to do that you haven'tyet done?
Every year (for the past twenty years…) I make aresolution to learn to drive… But I think I haven’t done that yet because Idon’t actually want to, though I do need to learn. The main thing I would liketo do with my life is to help sustain the living world for future generationsso perhaps failing to learn to drive is part of that initiative.
17 - If you could pick any other occupation toattempt, what would it be? Or, alternately, what do you think you would haveended up doing had you not been a writer?
I work as a librarian in a public library, whichis a great fit for me, though it took me a long time to figure out what I coulddo to pay my bills in a somewhat sustainable way. It’s been a huge relief totake the financial pressure off of my writing.
18 - What made you write, as opposed to doingsomething else?
Aptitude and encouragement – I always knew Ineeded to create and to make art; I was very into visual arts, music, and dramaas a kid, but writing is the medium for which I think I have the most intuitivetalent and – therefore, perhaps – I received the most encouragement for it,which made me want to continue, to develop my craft, etc. Encouragement can goa long way.
19 - What was the last great book you read? Whatwas the last great film?
Poetry:Consider the Rooster by Oliver Baez Bendorfand I Don’t Want to Be Understood by JoshuaJennifer Espinoza. Fiction: I’mstill totally stuck on Bellies by Nicola Dinan, Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar, and The World and All That It Holds by AleksandarHemon, all of which I read last year. Nonfiction:Histories of the Transgender Child by JulesGill-Peterson. Memoir: Something, Not Nothing by Sarah Leavitt. Thereare lots more I could talk about. I love reading. Film: I watched the documentary NoOrdinary Man recently and it was profoundly moving and reallyinteresting. I’m also not over the impact All of Us Strangers had on me and willprobably watch it for a third time soon.
20 - What are you currently working on?
Nothing at the moment, to be honest. Now that Ihave to manage chronic illness, and particularly an energy-limiting condition,I’m always over capacity in my life and desperately trying to find places andactivities I can cut back. Between work, childcare responsibilities, managingmy illness, and having this book emerge into the world, I have neither the timenor the creative ability to envision something new. But I feel confident thatwill change with time and I’m really looking forward to returning to the quiet,private realm of writing. I wonder what’s waiting for me there.
