12 or 20 (second series) questions with Miranda Schreiber
MirandaSchreiber [photo credit:Sarah Bodri] is a Canadian writer and researcher. Her work has appeared inplaces like the Toronto Star, The Walrus, the Globe and Mail,BBC, and the National Post. She has been nominated for a digitalpublishing award by the National Media Foundation and was the recipient of theSolidarity and Pride Champion Award from the Ontario Federation of Labour. Iris and the Dead is her debut book.
1- How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent workcompare to your previous? How does it feel different?
Writingthis book felt extremely time-sensitive because there was a certain perspectiveI wanted to communicate from. I felt like I had about a year-and-a-half. Iintended the book to be forward-facing, like an opening of a set of questions,so I would like to look into those more in the future.
4- Where does prose 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?
Forthis book I started with a sixty-page document and then gradually filled it in.I was always worried about saying too much and I was always trying to keep itshort even after I decided it felt more like a book than short fiction. It’salso kind of a letter and the character being addressed is theoreticallyfundamentally distracted, so attention was a concern throughout.
5- Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you thesort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
Ifind that written work sounds better spoken usually, although some of it is lost. Talkingabout reading can be social but it’s really a solitary act, almost inherentlyso. Maybe the best way to experience writing is through reading alone, butreading out loud can be a helpful, elaborative part of making a book.
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?
Idefinitely do. I think it’s important for writing to have a political position,and I try to resist falling into a nihilistic or relativistic perspective. Idon’t like the theory some stories end with that effectively says, well, sowhat? I hope that writing can attest to the sacredness of human existence, thatit is essentially better to write your friend a message than to ask ChatGPT todo so because for our own safety we must maintain our freedom of thought andexpression. I think it’s an important time to believe that things actually domatter.
7– What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Dothey even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
Idefinitely prefer writing that sets out a serious, objective claim but isn’tcruel. There is something really, really boring about writing that iscontemptuous of most people. This kind of work is usually just repeating whatthe most powerful people in the world want us all to think about each other. Ithink good writing figures out how other people, and we ourselves, have beenlied to, and – within reason – finds points of commonality among us.
8- Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult oressential (or both)?
Workingwith a good outside editor who is invested in the work as art, not as acommodity, is literally amazing for me. It gives the text its own life whensomeone else can tease out an aspect for further development. Of course it hasto be the right person.
9- What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to youdirectly)?
Thebest piece of advice I’ve ever heard is something my grandpa used to say, whichis that where there is breath there is hope. I think as an assertion it’s kindof the antidote to fascism. It elevates life over productivity and endows humanexperience with certain rights.
10- How easy has it been for you to move between genres (non-fiction to fiction)?What do you see as the appeal?
Ifeel more natural writing fiction, and I feel more convinced when I’m writingin that genre that the work is actually finished when I send it off. Argumentsmade through non-fiction I think have to be incredibly specific andanticipatory of the reader’s healthy skepticism, particularly if they arechallenging the climate of opinion in some way.
11- What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one?How does a typical day (for you) begin?
Itry really hard to keep writing as something I can theoretically do anywhere,independent of where I am or what time it is. I do find I write best if I’malone, or at least no one can see what I’m working on. When I start getting toopicky about where I feel like I can work I hear my Czech grandma saying “justsit and do it.”
12- When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack ofa better word) inspiration?
Favouritepassages from literature I think are a good place to come back to, no matterhow I feel about something I am working on. Music, nature. I think anythingrelated to the sublime is inherently generative and plays a role in artisticexpression.
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?
Ithink all of those forms are influential. I did a lot of reading of scientifictexts and the philosophy of science for Iris and the Dead, especiallyancient Greek science. Certain songs were also determinative in how Iapproached it as a project when I was conceptualizing it. I like the approachsome musicians have to their craft: the fixation, the relentlessness. There is something very theatrical, sort ofepic, about it that can be a good template.
19- What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
Thelast great book I read was Last Words from Montmartre by Qiu Miaojin.The last great movie I watched was the documentary Drunk On Too Much Lifeby Michelle Melles.
