12 or 20 (second series) questions with Matthew Nienow

Matthew Nienow’s recently released collection, If Nothing (Alice James Books, 2025), has been recommended by the New York Times Book Review, the Washington Post Book Club, and Poetry Northwest. He is also the author of House of Water (Alice James Books, 2016) and three earlier chapbooks. His poems and essays have appeared in Gulf Coast, Lit Hub, New England Review, Ploughshares, and Poetry, and have been recognized with fellowships from the Poetry Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts, and Artist Trust. He lives in Port Townsend, Washington, with his wife and sons, where he works as a mental health counselor.

1 - How did your first book change your life? How does your most recent work compare to your previous? How does it feel different?
I’m not sure my first book did change my life, though it perhaps coincided with a volatile period in which I did go through some very big changes. I can’t say for sure from this distance, but I likely held some hope that my first book was going to somehow open doors (to where, I don’t really know). All in all, the response was quiet, and this was one of several elements of my life that contributed to a deepening depression and addiction. My drinking, which was already problematic, got worse and worse, and I dove straight to the bottom and stayed there for some time.

When I finally began to get sober eight years ago, it took a great deal of time to get healthy enough to begin writing. Making If Nothing changed me. By going back to the source of pain and betrayal again and again with a hunger for honesty, I had to grow my capacity to be with the parts of myself I couldn’t bear. By doing this, I became more coherent, more resilient, and much more available to my family and friends. Until writing the poems that make up this new collection, there had always been a faint veil between my daily life and my poems. This book erased that separation for me and I haven’t fully metabolized what this means in the larger scope of my life.

2 - How did you come to poetry first, as opposed to, say, fiction or non-fiction?
I struggled with writing until I was about 20 years old when I took my first creative writing class. It was then that I was first introduced to living poets. Prior to this time, it was epically difficult for me to get even a single page out and my essays and assignments were always far shorter than the stated requirements. So, the fact that I found a life in writing was quite surprising. The typical brevity in poetry, though, really makes sense with that in mind.
 
3 - How long does it take to start any particular writing project? Does your writing initially come quickly, or is it a slow process? Do first drafts appear looking close to their final shape, or does your work come out of copious notes?
I tend to bristle at the word “project” when it comes to poetry, though I do understand it as a guiding concept. (More on this in the next question.)

I don’t take notes, but I do revise voraciously, often experimenting with significant changes in form and lineation. It is rare that my finished poems closely resemble their origins. As sound is really important to me, I often record the poems I am working on and listen to them while throwing the ball for my dogs, so I can check what is resonating and what falls flat. This often helps me take the work to the next level.

4 - Where does a poem usually begin for you? Are you an author of short pieces that end up combining into a larger project, or are you working on a "book" from the very beginning?
I consider reading an active part of my writing process; most of my poems begin in the space of reading. I’m looking to be knocked off-kilter, to be stunned away or lulled into a trance. It is in this interstitial space that I can follow the trail of something I can sense, but not yet see clearly.

I tend to draft without a book in mind, which means it can take a great deal of time before I begin to feel something larger growing up between and around the poems. When I do have a critical mass of sorts, I begin to hone myself towards this space without being overly restrictive. It still requires a great deal of patience and the willingness to write a lot of poems that will never leave my desk.

5 - Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?
I see readings as adjacent to my creative process. I don’t write towards readings and I am rarely inspired to write by attending readings. With that said, I love doing readings and have devoted a lot of energy to the art and skill of reading and presenting well. It’s always sad and confusing to me how so many poets who make incredible work on the page read in such a dull or off-putting manner. As sound strongly guides me in making and revising my work, I can’t understand how poets who don’t read well relate to their art.
 
6 - Do you have any theoretical concerns behind your writing? What kinds of questions are you trying to answer with your work? What do you even think the current questions are?
This is constantly evolving for me. What I can say is that I see poetry as a place to encounter and wrestle with Truth, in all its varied forms. I am probably most interested in what this means in relation to the human experience. As for questions, I favor the asking over answering. One of the questions I’m currently interested in is: “What is healthy masculinity?”

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?
Though they are nearly unavoidable, I think “shoulds” are often limiting and unhelpful expectations. I do, however, have opinions on what the “best” writing might be doing in the world, which is, of course, closely linked with the role of the writer. In the broadest sense, I believe good writers help us to look more closely at the world and ourselves, providing a chance to know and understand and feel the world more deeply.

8 - Do you find the process of working with an outside editor difficult or essential (or both)?
I think it depends on the editor. For the most part, I am open to feedback, though I have worked very hard to develop and trust my own internal editor. I’m very lucky to have had both of my books with Alice James; they believe in collaborating with poets and the poets have final call on editorial guidance.

9 - What is the best piece of advice you've heard (not necessarily given to you directly)?
No one does their most important work alone.

10 - What kind of writing routine do you tend to keep, or do you even have one? How does a typical day (for you) begin?
For much of the last twenty years, I kept a pretty consistent practice of starting my day by reading poems and then drafting something new. If time and interest allowed, I could spend anywhere from 30 minutes to four hours revising work later in the day.

I entered a new chapter about two years ago when my older son got me into strength training. Now, I am at the gym first thing about six days a week, which has all but eliminated my decades-long struggle with anxiety. I’ve become more flexible with my writing practice, and now read and write at other times in the day, though I do believe setting a consistent schedule will help me dig in more fully with new work.

11 - When your writing gets stalled, where do you turn or return for (for lack of a better word) inspiration?
Almost always to the poems of others. If I can’t find something new and surprising in one of the many lit mags I subscribe to or read online, I turn to the favorites in my home poetry library.

12 - What fragrance reminds you of home?
Cedar and salt water.

13 - 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?
I’m also a musician and woodworker, and these have influenced my writing. More so, I find that paying attention to what is happening in my life and the world at large tends to inform the poems I make. Fatherhood and marriage are at the core of my life and so these relationships are sometimes the most significant guiding forces.

14 - What other writers or writings are important for your work, or simply your life outside of your work?
Larry Levis, Natalie Diaz, Eduardo C. Corral, and Jack Gilbert are some of my favorite poets, though I read widely and am often very taken with single poems from too many poets to name.

Lately, True and False Magic by Phil Stutz has been helping me to grow and move beyond my self-limitations in all areas of my life. It’s an easy read with profound and accessible lessons, but the work of integrating these practices is lifelong work.

15 - What would you like to do that you haven't yet done?
I have too many hobbies and passions and I know more will be on the way. With that said, I have been a musician and songwriter since the age of 14. I continue to draft songs all the time, but I almost never prioritize completing or recording these. I’d love to actually make an album I’m proud of even if it is just for me.

16 - 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 a writer?
I’ve already gone down the rabbit hole on several other careers (boat builder, woodworker, educator, therapist) and many of these continue to be present in my life alongside writing. There were times when I wanted only to be a writer, but I think I do my best writing when I have some friction from another occupation (or two). It keeps the world moving and I have to really choose to make it the page with a bit more urgency.

17 - What made you write, as opposed to doing something else?
As someone who also creates in other forms, I go to writing for a certain flavor of magic I find most strongly there. It may also be true that I am most able to finish what I start when it comes to writing. As noted above, my song drafts often remain unfinished and it isn’t always for lack of trying.

18 - What was the last great book you read? What was the last great film?
The last great book: This is Happiness by Niall Williams. The last great film… To be honest, I spend more time watching shows than movies and a lot of it is entertaining fluff. I enjoy it, but I wouldn’t call it great.

19 - What are you currently working on?
Finishing a sauna and building my therapy practice. As for writing, I’m leaning into essays about a range of topics around healthy masculinity, fatherhood, ADHD. I’m also drafting poems without any specific aim.

12 or 20 (second series) questions;