interview

Simon Perchik–Interview

by Suzanna Anderson Creates

Describe your creative space. Do you work at home, in public spaces, etc.?

I write in the local coffee shops, almost never at home. Too lonely.

What kind of materials do you use? Do you write by hand or type? What is your favorite writing utensil?

A fountain pen. I write on the back of “scrap paper.”

What is your routine for writing?

Wake up, catch the 8:30 bus to town and write in a coffee shop till 1 or 2 pm than take the bus home.

How long have you been writing? When did you start writing?

Began in public school but mostly since I retired from law practice in 1980

Who is your intended, or ideal, audience? Who do you write for?

I don’t think along that line. My hope is everyone will read what I’ve written.

What inspires you to write? If you are blocked, what do you do?

I use photographs.

What other things do you do besides writing? Do you dance or play golf, etc.?

I’m retired and spend all my time writing.

What is your favorite part of the creative process?

The rapture of discovery when I reconcile two conflicting ideas or images, exactly what a metaphor does for a living.

What is your advice to aspiring writers?

To read at least 50 poems before 1 he or she writes.

Check out Simon’s work in Volume 3, Issue 1, Volume 3, Issue 2, and upcoming in Volume 4, Issue 2.

And to read more about Simon on Writing, check out the essay “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities.”

 

MAGIC, ILLUSION AND OTHER REALITIES

Where do writers get their ideas? Well, if they are writing prose, their ideas evolve one way. If, on the other hand, they are writing poetry, their ideas evolve another way. Perhaps some distinctions are in order. Distinguishing the difference between prose and poetry may not be all that simple. There are many definitions, all of which may be correct. For the purpose of this essay allow me to set forth one of the many:

It seems to me that there is available to writers a spectrum along which to proceed. At one end is prose, appropriate for essays, news, weather reports and the like. At the other end is poetry. Writers move back and forth along this spectrum when writing fiction.

Thus, prose is defined by its precise meaning that excludes ambiguity, surmise and misunderstanding. It never troubles the reader.  To define it another way, prose is faulty if it lacks a coherent thrust guided by rules of logic, grammar and syntax. It will not tolerate contradiction.  Poetry, on the other hand, is defined by its resistance to such rules. Poetry is ignited, brought to life by haunting, evasive, ambiguous, contradictory propositions.

This is not to say poetry is more or less useful than prose. Rather, they are two separate and distinct tools, much the same as a hammer and a saw. They are different tools designed for different jobs. If an essay is called for, the reader wants certainty; exactly what the words you are now reading are intended to give. If, on the other hand, consolation for some great loss is called for, the reader needs more: a text that lights up fields of reference nowhere alluded to on the page. This calls for magic, for illusion, not lecture. Thus, one of the many definitions of poetry might be: Poetry: words that inform the reader of that which cannot be articulated. To be made whole, to heal, the reader needs to undergo an improved change in mood, a change made more effective if the reader doesn’t know why he or she feels better. Exactly like music. That’s where poetry gets its power to repair; an invisible touch, ghost-like but as real as anything on earth. A reading of the masters, Neruda, Aleixandre, Celan…confirms that a text need not always have a meaning the reader can explicate. To that extent, it informs, as does music, without what we call meaning.  It’s just that it takes prose to tell you this.

This is because prose is a telling of what the writers already know. They have a preconceived idea of what to write about. With poetry it’s the opposite. The writers have no preconceived idea with which to begin a poem. They need to first force the idea out of the brain, to bring the idea to the surface, to consciousness. With poetry the writer needs a method to find that hidden idea. If the originating idea wasn’t hidden and unknown it isn’t likely to be an important one. Let’s face it: any idea that is easily accessible has already been picked over. It’s all but certain to be a cliché.

To uncover this hidden idea for a poem the writers each have their own unique method. As for me, the idea for the poem evolves when an idea from a photograph is confronted with an obviously unrelated, disparate idea from a text (mythology or science) till the two conflicting ideas are reconciled as a totally new, surprising and workable one. This method was easy for me to come by. As an attorney I was trained to reconcile disparate views, to do exactly what a metaphor does for a living. It’s not a mystery that so many practicing lawyers write poetry. Lawyer Poets And That World We Call Law, James R. Elkins, Editor (Pleasure Boat Studio Press. Also, Off the Record, An Anthology of Poetry by Lawyers, edited by James R. Elkins, Professor of Law, University of West Virginia.

The efficacy of this method for getting ideas is documented at length by Wayne Barker, MD. who, in his Brain Storms, A Study of Human Spontaneity, on page 15 writes:

If we can endure confrontation with the unthinkable, we may be able to fit together new patterns of awareness and action. We might, that is, have a fit of insight, inspiration, invention, or creation. The propensity for finding the answer, the lure of creating or discovering the new, no doubt has much to do with some people’s ability to endure tension until something new emerges from the contradictory and ambiguous situation.

Likewise, Douglas R. Hofstadter, in his Godel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid writes on page 26:

One of the major purposes of this book is to urge each reader to confront the apparent contradiction head on, to savor it, to turn it over, to take it apart, to wallow in it, so that in the end the reader might emerge with new insights into the seemingly unbreachable gulf between the formal and the informal, the animate and the inanimate, the flexible and the inflexible.

Moreover, the self-induced fit is standard operating procedure in the laboratory. Allow me to quote Lewis Thomas, who, in his The Lives of a Cell, on page 138. describes the difference between applied science and basic research. After pointing out how applied science deals only with the precise application of known facts, he writes:

In basic research, everything is just the opposite. What you need at the outset is a high degree of uncertainty; otherwise it isn’t likely to be an important problem. You start with an incomplete roster of facts, characterized by their ambiguity; often the problem consists of discovering the connections between unrelated pieces of information. You must plan experiments on the basis of probability, even bare possibility, rather than certainty.  If an experiment turns out precisely as predicted, this can be very nice, but it is only a great event if at the same time it is a surprise. You can measure the quality of the work by the intensity of astonishment. The surprise can be because it did turn out as predicted (in some lines of research, 1 per cent is accepted as a high yield), or it can be a confoundment because the prediction was wrong and something totally unexpected turned up, changing the look of the problem and requiring a new kind of protocol. Either way, you win…

Isn’t it reasonable to conclude that the defining distinction between applied science and basic research is the same as that between prose and poetry? Isn’t it likewise reasonable to conclude that the making of basic science is very much the same as the making of poetry?

In a real way I, too, work in a laboratory. Every day at 9 am I arrive at a table in the local coffee shop, open a dog-eared book of photographs, open a text, and begin mixing all my materials together to find something new.

For the famous Walker Evans photograph depicting a migrant’s wife, I began:

Walker Evans     Farmer’s wife

Tough life, mouth closed, no teeth?  Sorrow?

Not too bad looking. Plain dress

This description went on and on till I felt I had drained the photograph of all its ideas. I then read the chapter entitled On Various Words from The Lives of a Cell. Photograph still in view, I then wrote down ideas from Dr. Thomas’s text. I began:

Words –bricks and mortar

Writing is an art, compulsively adding to,

building the ant hill,

not sure if each ant knows what it will look like when finished

it’s too big. Like can’t tell what Earth looks like if you’re on it.

This too goes on and on with whatever comes to mind while I’m reading. But all the time, inside my brain, I’m trying to reconcile what a migrant’s wife has to do with the obviously unrelated ideas on biology suggested by Dr. Thomas. I try to solve the very problem I created. Of course my brain is stymied and jams, creating a self-induced fit similar to the epilepsy studied by the above mentioned Dr. Barker, M.D. But that was my intention from the beginning.

Sooner or later an idea from the photograph and an idea from the text will be resolved into a new idea and the poem takes hold.

No one is more surprised than I. Or exhausted. The conditions under which I write are brutal. My brain is deliberately jammed by conflicting impulses. Its neurons are overloaded, on the verge of shutting down. I can barely think. My eyes blur. The only thing that keeps me working is that sooner or later will come the rapture of discovery; that the differences once thought impossible to reconcile, become resolved; so and so, once thought  impossible of having anything to do with so and so, suddenly and surprisingly, has everything in the world to do with it. Or has nothing to do with it but can be reconciled with something else it triggered: one flash fire after another in the lightening storm taking place in my brain.

Getting the idea is one thing but the finished poem is a long way off. And to get there I abstract so my subconscious can talk to the reader’s subconscious, much the same as an artist abstracts the painting so the viewer’s subconscious can listen to the artist’s subconscious. There will be nothing anyone can point to and say, “That’s why”. Exactly like music, the most abstract of all the arts. Thus, for each poem its opening phrase is stolen shamelessly from Beethoven. He’s the master at breaking open bones and I might as well use him early on in the poem. Then I steal from Mahler whose music does its work where I want my poetry to do its work: the marrow.

Perhaps marrow is what it’s all about. Abstraction, since it contradicts the real world, is a striking form of confrontation which jams the brain till it shuts down confused. It befits the marrow to then do the work the reader’s brain cells would ordinarily do. And though what the marrow cells put together is nothing more than a “gut feeling”, with no rational footing, it is enough to refresh the human condition, to make marriages, restore great loses, rally careers.

Of course abstraction is just one of the ways writers arrive at the poem with their idea. But however they come they all leave for the reader poetry’s trademark: illusion. It is that illusion that builds for the over-burdened reader a way out.

Perhaps, as you may have already suspected, a poem, unlike a newspaper, is not a tool for everyday use by everyone; it’s just for those who need it, when they need it.

SIMON PERCHIK

Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review,The Nation, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. His most recent collection is Almost Rain, published by River Otter Press (2013).  For more information, including free e-books, please visit his website at www.simonperchik.com.

Stephanie Maldonado–Interview

by Suzanna Anderson Creates

Describe your creative space. Do you work at home, in public spaces, etc.?

My creative space has everything to do with sound. In a chaotic setting, my mind automatically becomes dramatic. I can imagine the most that can possibly happen at that very moment. Intensifying every “what if” that enters my brain. However, with soft music, my feelings are tapped into. My deepest works have been created in the calmest of spaces.

What kind of materials do you use? Do you write by hand or type? What is your favorite writing utensil?

Growing up my father would literally rip up whatever homework I completed with sloppy hand writing. He didn’t want me to have the same chicken scratch he and my siblings shared. Needless to say, penmanship is everything to me. I can always be found with a pen and some sort of paper. I have written full stories of post-its at work simply because inspiration hit. My work would probably not be the same in intensity had it been typed.

What is your routine for writing?

I wouldn’t say that I have a writing “routine” per say. I carry a journal and have a notes section in my phone where I jot down lines and ideas that pop into my head throughout the day. When I go back to reread them, I scan them to see if anything flows with something or if a new piece is ready.

How long have you been writing? When did you start writing?

I’ve been physically writing since around the second or third grade. Before writing, I was always making up songs and reading everything I could. Being a chubby kid, words were always kinder to me than my peers. Creativity was my coping mechanism of an escape.

Who is your intended, or ideal, audience? Who do you write for?

Anything that I have ever written is for anyone who feels alone. My writing is meant to heal and be relatable. Often times isolation is stressful. People need to feel that they aren’t alone in order to understand that it will get better. Or that you aren’t a weirdo just because you’re a little different. I hope my writing to be timeless. Offering what is needed to all who read it.

What inspires you to write? If you are blocked, what do you do?

Inspiration is befuddling. I can go weeks without a single entry only to follow with a spree of new writings. I’ve been inspired by anything from a song to the weather to a setting. Inspiration is both everywhere and nowhere.

What other things do you do besides writing? Do you dance or play golf, etc.?

My hobbies include traveling, going on adventures, anything music related. I also happen to be an introverted party girl. There’s a lot going on with my personality and the various activities I partake in.

What is your advice to aspiring writers?

Advice to aspiring writers. I cannot stress this enough: Not everyone is going to understand nor even like your writing. You may never find an author similar in style. That’s the beauty. Always continue your journey as a writer. Grow. Have fun and be true to yourself. ​

Check out Stephanie’s work in Volume 3, Issue 2.

Sarah Key–Interview

by Suzanna Anderson Creates

Describe your creative space. Do you work at home, in public spaces, etc.?

I work anywhere and everywhere: on the subway, on the bus, at my desk in my bedroom, at the college where I work, on my boyfriend’s boat, and especially on my daily runs where sometimes words or lines come to me, and I stop and text them to myself.

What kind of materials do you use? Do you write by hand or type? What is your favorite writing utensil?

I almost always draft my poems by hand first, in a journal or a lined pad. I write with whatever pen is nearby.

What is your routine for writing?

I write when I can, no routine, but often early in the morning and late at night.

How long have you been writing? When did you start writing?

As long as I can remember.

Who is your intended, or ideal, audience? Who do you write for?

First, I write for myself, some subject I want to learn more about, some question I want to ponder, or I am overcome by a feeling that I have to express, ranging from love to rage. I hope that whatever I write for myself will connect with others as well.

What inspires you to write? If you are blocked, what do you do?

Everything inspires me, from listening to bits of conversation on the street, to watching a hawk swoop down to catch a fish, to marveling at an octopus change shape and color, to caring for a family member in trouble, to following the history of the name Big Bang, to admiring a sculpture I love, to being mesmerized by the Zamboni at my son’s hockey game, to helping my daughter shave for the first time. I am not blocked usually, but I would go for a walk outside around the Harlem Meer. I often find there is too much not too little to write about.

What other things do you do besides writing? Do you dance or play golf, etc.?

I tutor at a community college in the South Bronx. I run and dance and swim and snorkel and paddleboard.

What is your favorite part of the creative process?

My favorite part is editing and revising. I started out as an editor at an art book publisher, and I love playing with words like they are blocks. I have some poems that I started over ten years ago that keep evolving. One just got accepted to an anthology called Nasty Women Poets!

What is your advice to aspiring writers?

Practice. Read lots of different genres and model the stuff you like. Find a writing group or take a class to get some constructive feedback.

Check out Sarah’s work in Volume 3, Issue 2.

Ruth Sabath Rosenthal–Interview

by Suzanna Anderson Creates

Describe your creative space. Do you work at home, in public spaces, etc.?

I work at home, at my desk, on my laptop computer with just me, my thoughts, the computer screen, my trusty orbit mouse and the magic that flows from my fingers, to the keyboard, to the screen and, hopefully—eventually, into print in some fine poetry journal online, or hard copy, or in a poetry anthology, invariably in print.

What is your routine for writing?

I like to start writing early in the day and often I just barely stop for a bite to eat or a bathroom break. That’s on a day when I’ve no shortage of inspiration and/or my muse, whatever or whoever that may be at any given time, prods me on and on till the poem finishes and I’m mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted. That doesn’t happen all that much now-a-days, but it did for the first decade of my writing career.

How long have you been writing? When did you start writing?

I started writing in 2000 and had my first poem published in 2006 with the very prestigious Connecticut Review and within that year I was also nominated for a PushCart prize by Ibbetson Street Press for my poem “on yet another birthday.” I wrote both poems quickly, as they were, unbeknown to me at the time, already in my head just waiting to be get out—an exciting and mystical experience for sure.

Who is your intended, or ideal, audience? Who do you write for?

My ideal audience is anyone who loves poetry—a non-writer—a poet themselves—an aspiring writer—male or female, young or old. Anyone who appreciates what I call “reader-friendly” poetry—plain spoken English conveying the complexities of the nature of things: human; animal; politics; being loved; not being loved; wanting love; wanting recognition; wanting retribution; that which is wanting; believing; leaving, disappointing; the nature of happiness; longing; waiting; explaining…

What inspires you to write? If you are blocked, what do you do?

Personal experience, primarily my own, directs and defines a great deal of my poetry, although I sometimes write poems in the 3rd person. Or, as if I’m not me, but rather, someone else. Reading great works of poetry pf both poets of generations ago and contemporary poets and today’s poets, inspires me to write. Especially when I read them out loud to myself. I find I can’t truly appreciate what’s in front of my eyes until I hear the words, see and hear them as they flow off the page through my voice into my ears and psyche and fading into the air. Sometimes I have to stop reading because I’m suddenly filled with such need to write. When that happens I feel it’s magic. A magic where I feel the words I type, which then appear on the computer screen, are coming from a place or a person channeling me who is not in the realm I exist in. When that phenomenon occurs, more often than not, the poem gets finished quickly and goes on to meets great publishing success. The experience is awesome but, unfortunately, doesn’t happen all that often. If I find I’m blocked, I turn to my older poems and heavily edit them—usually to fit a “call for submissions” where a theme has been assigned as the criteria for the poem to be submitted. And of course, reading already established poets work and reading that aloud (I know I keep saying this, but I find it so very helpful ). There will come a time in that reading process that the urge to write pushes through and the reading is put away, and the insistent computer or pen and paper break through the rough patch of writer’ block and I’m back on track again.

What other things do you do besides writing? Do you dance or play golf, etc.?

I’m a wife, mother, grandmother, great grandmother, aunt, niece, cousin and someone who loves watching “Reality” TV—the absurdities lift me out of any doldrums and the overly dramatic behavior on the big screen takes me to a place so alien that I forget my reality enough to be recharged for facing the oncoming day. I also destress by watching some of the BBC and British TV programs and the Series on the PBS channels (13 and 21: the various mystery series; the Downton Abby like series; the period pieces – Jane Austen’s some of my favorites. And, while watching these British shows I often use the “closed captions,” even though the spoken language is English, because many of the words, spoken with heavy British accents, elude me unless I’m hearing them and simultaneously reading them on the screen.

What is your favorite part of the creative process?

My favorite part of the creative process. Umm. I could say the writing itself and the pride when the poem is finished, that pride furthered when the poem is published. But there’s an even greater creative process that comes later on—even years later—and that’s taking a look at any one of my older poems, written even decades ago, and taking on the task of adapting the poem to fit a specific theme via a publication’s “call for submissions.” Because the themes provided are universal in subject matter, and because my poems are also universal in subject matter, I find it thrilling to edit a existing poem of mine till I believe it nicely fits the criteria put forth. The “magic” that I spoke of comes into play here, as the re-write to meet the theme requisite, always greatly improves the poem; it evolves into being better, more meaningful work. The process in which this happens brings excitement and reward. Very exciting and rewarding when the revised poem is accepted for publication.

What is your advice to aspiring writers?

Read lots of great poetry – diverse forms of it – formal – those with little or no punctuation like Kay Ryan’s. Try writing only syllabic poetry with end-line rhymes. That’s what I did for the first couple of years. It was so good for me in creating a personal rhythm – especially if the syllabic lines were heavy in iambic pentameter. I got good at crating my own forms of syllabic poetry. I’d do one long line, one short line, one long line, stanza after stanza. Each end of the line, a rhyming couplet or every other line that. I got quite good at rhyming and structure. rhythm and cadence. Then I started moving the rhymes into the body of the poem instead of at the end of lines. And I loosened up on the syllabics and added alliteration into the mix, but always, using everyday language, albeit sometimes a bit formal. I experimented with poems without any punctuation – others, heavily punctuated, and others – a balance of punctuation. Specific line breaks to make the poem more interesting and quirky or more poignant. Specific line breaks to emphasize a mood or break in a mood or to create movement by directing where the reader’s eye has to go to find what is after the line break. Stanza breaks can also serve the same function, maybe even more profoundly because of the extra blank space between one stanza and the next. So, in conclusion – my advice to aspiring writers is read read read and read out loud. Hear the words as they leave the page and hang mid air, or float, or crash, or demand attention, or as they taper off into silence.

Check out Ruth’s work in Volume 3, Issue 2. 

 

Roger Camp–Interview

by Suzanna Anderson Creates

I think most artists would agree that the world is your creative space. Most of what takes place creatively happens in an artist’s head and can occur anywhere at any time: walking in the street, day dreaming, attending a concert, having a conversation. The list is endless. If you are speaking about a work space, in the past that would have been a darkroom. Currently it is at home in my office which has a floor to ceiling window and looks out upon a garden.

In the past I used film, including black and white, color negative and color positive film. My longest experience was with Kodachrome 25 film (no longer made) and making color prints called Cibachromes (aka Ilfochromes). I now use a digital camera and make digital prints using Adobe Photoshop.

I don’t have a fixed routine except to work daily.

I’ve been making art for over fifty years. I date my first serious photograph from age ten when I climbed up into a fir tree in order to take Yosemite Falls from a different perspective. When I was sixteen I taught myself how to print in a make-shift darkroom I set up in my father’s woodshop. There is something magical about seeing an image come up in the developing tray that never gets old.

I have never consciously thought about an audience. I believe that would have a devastating effect on an artist’s work and it is what separates commercial artists from fine artists. You make art for yourself. I have hundreds if not thousands of photographs which have never been seen that mean as much to me as those I’ve shared, exhibited or published.

Inspiration comes from being alive but only if you are paying attention. It could be a love affair that ends badly. Or a terrific novel you are reading. An overheard remark in a cafe. A dramatic stage setting by a gifted set designer. If you are “blocked” you wait, just like a farmer allows her/his land to be fallow before sowing.

I spend a great deal of my time traveling, reading, gardening, writing poetry and as much time as I can in conversation with people who are more knowledgeable than myself in a variety of subjects.

Seeing the photograph in my head the millisecond before pressing the shutter.

Spend as much time as possible in your own company. Expose yourself as much as possible to nature without the trappings of media. Visit as many museums as possible and examine the art that has gone before you, not your contemporaries.

Check out Roger’s work in Volume 3, Issue 2.

Linda Crate–Interview

by Suzanna Anderson Creates

Describe your creative space. Do you work at home, in public spaces, etc.?

Usually, at home. I can write anywhere, though. I’ve sent poems off whilst at my best friend’s house as she was still sleeping, at my parent’s house when they’ve left me behind to do something, and I have even written outside. However, I wouldn’t recommend the latter as bugs are annoying.

What kind of materials do you use? Do you write by hand or type? What is your favorite writing utensil?

My computer, my notepads, my phone. I do both—writing by hand usually when in a public setting. If not, I will attach little notes to my phone to remember an idea later.

What is your routine for writing?

I work night shift so I normally spend the morning to the afternoon writing before leaving to work around 3:30ish. On my days off I will just get up, turn up some music, and get to it.

How long have you been writing? When did you start writing?

I’ve been writing since I was five or six so twenty-six years.

Who is your intended, or ideal, audience? Who do you write for?

I don’t have any particular audience I try to  appeal to. Whomever is moved and touched by my writing I do appreciate, but I write for myself. I write because I have a song to sing, and I hope that others can relate to that in some way.

What inspires you to write? If you are blocked, what do you do?

Anything and everything. I am constantly inspired by other authors, things that have happened in my life, the weather, songs. I always have ideas, it seems.

If I am blocked then I take a break and go outside or just listen to some music or  cook (I love cooking). I don’t try to force anything. I just let the words come back to me.

What other things do you do besides writing? Do you dance or play golf, etc.?

Reading, swimming, spending time with friends and family, shopping, listening to music and dancing, singing, crafting, occasionally acting, I used to roleplay a lot  (forum based ones), cooking and baking,  taking adventures out into nature, watch anime and manga, etc.

What is your favorite part of the creative process?

I love when you get in your groove and the words start flowing and you put one word after another word and somehow it’s become this story or poem. The musicality of words has always entranced and intrigued me.

What is your advice to aspiring writers?

Dreams don’t work unless you do. If you want this, really want this, then don’t give up. There’s going to be critics, people who hate your work simply because it’s you, rejection letters, and bad days. But if you keep on going despite all that, it’s really rather rewarding.

Check out Linda’s work in Volume 3, Issue 2.

Mark Hudson–Interview

by Suzanna Anderson Creates

What is your creative space? Where do you write?

Sometimes observations of things in real
life inspire me, I might write a poem about something
I saw. So I usually have paper to jot notes down, so
I never lose an idea. The only problem, my handwriting
is so poor, that I can’t even read my own handwriting!
(One time, I was writing a poem on the train, and
some man said,  “What’s that? Sanskrit?”)

What kind of materials do you use?

I think it was Ray Bradbury who said,
“If you want to be a good writer, read more than you
write! Even read bad stuff, so your stuff won’t be like
that!” I read books everyday, but I can’t get by without
my laptop, either!

How long have you been writing?

Since the seventies! I was born in 1970,
and I have early childhood photos, those “square”
size photos they used to have, of me constantly
in front of the typewriter! In third grade, I went to
a young writers conference at school, and most of
the kids had a ten page short story, and I had a 140
page book! Then I wrote a book called, “The spy
in space,” a long epic, and my uncle borrowed it
to read it, and he lost it! But I’ve lost other pieces,
bodies of artwork, computers crashing, you
hopefully learn to protect your ideas better!

Who is your intended audience?

Humans! I guess if you’re trying
to get people to listen to your work and appreciate
it, you never know who will like it and who won’t!
I was asked to read a poem of mine two hours
away from me in an art gallery in the middle of
nowhere! The people loved it, and I got several
compliments on my work! But I don’t drive,
so if I didn’t get a ride, I couldn’t get there!

What do you do if you get writer’s block?

Rome was not built in one day?
I just started reading a book about Ernest
Hemingway, and on one of his super-famous
novels, he had five different endings he wanted
to use, but none of them fit. When I was in
writing school, they talked about the need to
rewrite, and it’s true. I’ve written whole novellas,
and realized they were terrible and was grateful
they weren’t published. But anyone could say that.

What else do you besides writing?

I’m also an artist, so with all my
interests, I’m never really bored. When I was in
my twenties, I’d tell my peers, “I’m never bored.”
But the truth is, I was always bored.  If you want
to be a writer, you sometimes have to be alone
a lot. And if you were married, or you had kids,
they would have to understand that when you’re
writing, you’re working. There are writers and
artists who make money, sometimes a lot,
and they’re not starving, nor are their families.
But I’ve been given a chance in the circumstance
I’m in to have the free-time to pursue writing.
I’m 46 years old, and I could look at it as I’ve
wasted time along the way. But who doesn’t
say, “If I knew then what I knew now?”

What is your favorite part of the creative process?

Giving praise back to the creator
of the universe, who made “everything,” for
making me realize I can be “me” and still
be a child of God. And I love to be in the
company of other creative people, of whom
I know many. I belong to many writers
associations, and one is Rockford Writers
Guild in Illinois. They have a “Good news”
section of their newsletter, where you can
report publications, and I reported the
good news of publishing “balloons”
to Magnolia Review to Wilda Morris,
who is in charge of that, and she e-mailed
back and said, “I had a balloon poem
accepted as well!

Getting “Balloons” accepted made
me very happy, because I wrote it around
the time of my 46th birthday. It is a very
upbeat poem, and I was feeling very
happy at the time. My 46th year as it
has panned out has had some challenges,
family health issues, and so I could
choose to be sad. But I have writing
and art, and it is the greatest therapy
known to man! (and woman!)

(If this interview is published on the blog,
I want to thank Suzanna for accepting my
poem, and putting this interview on the blog,
if it goes on. And if anybody reads this
and hopes to be a writer, I hope that
something I said inspires you. Remember,
not everything has been done yet, and
each individual is a new voice. Every
life is worth a lot to the ultimate creator!)

Check out Mark Hudson’s work in Volume 3, Issue 2 and Volume 4, Issue 1.

Robert Beveridge–Interview

by Suzanna Anderson Creates

How long have you been writing? When did you start writing?

I started when I was four. Doing the math, that would be 1972-73, depending on when. Supposedly, the first notebook I used back then is still in existence somewhere. (I still remember much of what was in it. Today we’d call it “bad Speed Racer fanfic,” but that term wasn’t around in the seventies. The first story involved a Satanic goose. Nope, not kidding.)

What inspires you to write? If you are blocked, what do you do?

Often a line pops into my head, and I start turning it over and over to see what I can do with it. That may have a genesis (it happens often at poetry readings, unsurprisingly), but at other times it may come out of thin air, like when I’m driving and bored.

I don’t think of “blocked” the way most people do, because writing every day has never been a specific goal. If I’m writing every day, wonderful. I don’t think I’ve done so for more than a couple of months since 1994, though. I’ve gone through three-year stretches where I haven’t written a single poem more than once. I don’t really think of it as frustrating; I’m usually just channelling creative output into another medium (criticism, music, etc.).

What other things do you do besides writing? Do you dance or play golf, etc.?

I was a media critic (mostly amateur, sometimes semi-pro, and pro for a couple of months in 2000; a couple of my reviews can still be found on CNN’s website if you know where to look) for thirty years, and I’ve been in bands more often than not since 1982; my current flagship project, XTerminal, is a little over eighteen years old as of this writing.

What is your advice to aspiring writers?

I do a lot of answering questions on the website Quora, and I can’t believe how often I have to say this to people… if you’re getting into writing for the money… don’t. The number of novelists who make a living from writing full-time has increased tremendously with the rise of self-publishing, but it’s still a minuscule number compared to the number of novelists. And that’s a mainstream form of artistic expression. If you focus on short stories or poetry, well, the number of people I have known over the past almost fifty years who have made a living with one of those, without having another job, has been in the single digits. (With poetry, there’s Bukowski, and… yeah. That’s it.) Philip Levine was a factory worker for years while being one of America’s most celebrated poets. A lot of them are professors. A few are on disability. Hey, it counts as a source of income. You don’t make a living, much less get rich, doing this stuff. My first publication credit came in 1988. I crossed the 500 publication mark early in 2016. I’m closing in on grossing $200. (I should add that from 1988 through 2015 inclusive, the amount of money I made from publishing poetry was $3.)

Check out Robert’s work in Volume 3, Issue 2.

Leland James–Interview

by Suzanna Anderson Creates

Describe your creative space. Do you work at home, in public spaces, etc.?

I have a recliner, laptop, and lap board by windows looking out from my cabin into the north woods of northern Michigan, fifty-foot maples on a hillside. The chair is flanked by a desk and a work table within reach. View of fire stove in winter.

What kind of materials do you use? Do you write by hand or type? What is your favorite writing utensil?

I use a standard laptop with word processing. I love split screen, to compare drafts.

What is your routine for writing?

I rise at around 6 AM. Coffee and news. My wife of 40-odd years gets up later, and we read aloud for a while. Light breakfast and to work for 4 to 6 hours. In afternoon I am in woods with chain saw or on splitter putting up winter’s wood.

How long have you been writing? When did you start writing?

Started writing poetry when I was twelve. That’s about six decades.

Who is your intended, or ideal, audience? Who do you write for?

I write for people who love and appreciate poetry. Period. I care nothing for what academia thinks, and frankly I find much of what they do and produce a killing influence on poetry in the US. I publish a lot in Europe where more regular people read poetry.

What inspires you to write? If you are blocked, what do you do?

I write because I love it and I have to. It is part and parcel of who I am. As to block. I have a system like the minors for baseball. When I have a poem that is promising but doesn’t make the grade for publication, I send it down to the minors—a file system. At times when I’m not obsessed with an idea, I bring a player up and see if I can bring it along to the majors.

What other things do you do besides writing? Do you dance or play golf, etc.?

I am pretty much a home body. I read, play with our new puppy…. I do travel, maybe monthly, to do readings at libraries or to attend a reading for a poetry contest I’ve judged. I thoroughly enjoy interacting with readers.

What is your favorite part of the creative process?

I really can’t say. It’s all one for me. But I do hate, in longer works, formatting.

What is your advice to aspiring writers?

Don’t take advice.

Check out Leland’s work in Volume 3, Issue 2.

Larry D. Thacker–Interview

by Suzanna Anderson Creates

Describe your creative space. Do you work at home, in public spaces, etc.?

I’ve forced myself to learn to work in any place, especially in busy cafes, which I enjoy, since we don’t often get to choose when we can do work, but at least half of my writing is done very early in the morning, at home, at my desk via keyboard. At other times I enjoy using pen and pad in old cemeteries or slogging out a few hours of writing in a busy cafe.

What kind of materials do you use? Do you write by hand or type? What is your favorite writing utensil?

Keyboard, pen and pad, notebook on smartphone (very handy for spur of the moment starters). I have no favorite anything. No ideal setting. That’s too much pressure on inanimate objects.

What is your routine for writing?

Up very early. Try to write, read, revise, and submit some every day. At least four

(usually more) hours of writing activity a day.

How long have you been writing? When did you start writing?

Seriously writing for about ten years.

Who is your intended, or ideal, audience? Who do you write for?

This is difficult. Much of my work is Appalachian / mountain-centered, though the my hope is that readers from within and without the region find the work. For the more earth-based work, everyone. Depends on the project. I’m not limited by region or issue or topic or mood.

What inspires you to write? If you are blocked, what do you do?

I just completed a YEAR of a poem-a-day, writing a poem or more a day for that period, so being blocked is a common myth we tell ourselves. Uninspired? Sometimes. Tire? Yes. Blocked? Never. No one is.

What other things do you do besides writing? Do you dance or play golf, etc.?

I was in higher ed for 15 years. I’m a painter and photographer. Write lots of fiction as well. Blog. Help manage an antique / vintage store. Buy and sell vintage lovelies.

What is your favorite part of the creative process?

Bringing something new into the world.

What is your advice to aspiring writers?

Read. Read. Read. Frakin write. Revise like hell. Submit your work. Get over the possibility that someone won’t like or “get” your work. That WILL happen.

Check out Larry’s work in Volume 3, Issue 2.