The Habitual Poet: Lavina Blossom

Installment #35

: : :

The Habitual Poet is an ongoing series of contributor interviews. If you are a Poemeleon contributor and would like to participate copy & paste the Q's from below and e-mail your answers to: editor@poemeleon.org.

: : :

Reading

Q: Where do you prefer to get your books?

A: From the library (where I work), at used book sales, or online. I buy books new (online, usually), to support writers I admire, but can't afford new books that often. 

Q: How many poetry books do you think you own, and what percentage of these have you actually read?

A: I probably own thirty to forty poetry books and have read the majority (maybe 80 percent) of them, at least in part (if collections)

Q: When, where and how do you usually read? (i.e. at bedtime under the covers, cover to cover, etc.)

A: I read on the toilet, in bed before just before I go to sleep, at the kitchen table, at a fold out table, at work during lunch (at a desk). Occasionally I listen to an audio book on the commute to and from work. I read novels cover to cover, usually skip around in poetry books and short story or non-fiction books.

Q: What books of poetry have you read this month?

A: Since this is early in the month (5th), none.

Q: What other books/magazines/backs of cereal boxes have you read recently?

A: I am now reading several books (skipping around in a few of them): Richard Schmid, "Alla Prima: everything I know about painting"; Haruki Murakami, "Kafka on the Shore"; Paul Davies, "The eerie silence: renewing our search for alien intelligence"; Gregory Orr, "Poetry as Survival"; Lewis L. Hyde, "The gift: creativity and the artist in the modern world"; Rick DeMarinis, "The art & craft of the short story."

: : :

Writing

Q: When, where, how do you write, and why?(i.e. at dusk on a dock, longhand in a notebook, because...)

A: I write sporadically. I am freshest in the morning and most new writing is done by hand, in a notebook (spiral) or a yellow pad, or whatever paper is handy with whatever pen is handy. I sit down to write, usually at a table or desk. I write because I need to write.

Q: How many first drafts do you think you complete in a week? A month?

A: I may go for a month without working on a poem (since I also write fiction, paint, and collaborate regularly on collage). When I do sit down, I may draft one or several poems.

Q: How long do you wait before revising a poem?

A: A few minutes to many years.

Q: When do you know a poem is “done”?

A: I never know, but with encouragement or a little distance and burg no nagging sense, on rereading, that a poem needs more work, I may submit a poem for publication. If it isn't published, I may revise it again or put it aside.

Q: Have you ever given up an invitation so you could stay home and write?

A:  Yes.  

: : :

Publishing

Q: What is your system for sending out work?

A: I have no system. I now have a goal to send out regularly after years of sending out very rarely. I used to complain about and resent that time it took to research publications, prepare poems, and then do the business of sending, but I realize everyone who publishes has this challenge and they accept it. They send out their work, and in many cases I benefit from their poetry being available. I learn from it, am enriched by it, or it teaching me something (perhaps intangible, but evident to me). That my poetry just might be of worth to someone else, then, is reason enough to invest the time and energy in the process.

Q: What have you more recently received: a rejection notice or an acceptance? Was it what you expected?

A: I receive an acceptance from an online journal after several rejections (but some encouragement). I felt more encouraged by that than I had expected to be. It was great.

Q: Where do you generally publish: online, in print, or a mix, and do you have a preference?

A: I will be submitting to both print and online journals. At the moment, I have work out only to online publications.

Q: What is the worst (or weirdest, or best) experience you’ve had with a journal/magazine/press & its editor(s)? (No names, please!)

A: Long ago, when I was submitting more, I received a brief note from Billy Collins, who said, in effect, that my work wasn't up their narrow little editorial alley, which was a bit cute, yet it wasn't a form rejection and actually encouraged me.

Q: Have you ever received any fan (or hate) mail? If so, what was that like?

A: Neither.

: : :

Practical considerations

Q: What is your day job, and how does it affect your writing?

A: I work as a Library Assistant, and have done for 25 years. I used to try to write during lunch, or while in the bathroom, or on break while at work. I rarely do that any more. It's too frustrating. There are days I go to the job, and I do not try to write. Other days, I work on some art form (a novel in progress, or a painting, or a poem), or I don't feel good about the day.

Q: How does your significant other’s occupation affect your writing life?

A: I have two days at home alone (if I choose to be) when he works, and that is good. 

Q: Have there been periods in your life when you couldn't write?

A: Yes, when I couldn't write anything worth keeping--one long spell after I left a Ph.D. program in creative writing without finishing. I felt like a failure.

Q: Do you have a “poetry budget”?

A: No.

Q: Have you ever suffered (or made someone else suffer) in the name of your art? (i.e. picked up your kids late from school so you could finish a poem, forgone lunch to buy a book, left a relationship because the other person just didn't understand, etc.)

A: I was in one relationship in which the person wanted me to be available more often than I could be and still write. So, yes, I suppose I may have hurt that person.

: : :

Random nonsense

Q: Do you have any superhuman abilities? (i.e. can you tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue, or write a double sestina with both hands tied behind your back?)

A: I had one superhuman experience, which I do not wish to share.

Q: You write a scathing poem about your mother and she learns about it. You:

a.) Move to South America and leave no forwarding address

b.) Delete the poem and insist it never existed

c.) Show it to her (she’s already written you out of the will anyway)

d.) Do none of the above; instead you: _____

A: d.) Do none of the above; instead you: are relieved that, at least in this case, the fact that she will have forgotten all about it within minutes, is to the benefit of both of us.

Q: If the best medical specialists in the world told you that if you didn’t give up your poetry habit today you would die in six months, would you get your affairs in order or would you leave that up to your family?

A: My affairs will never be in order unless someone else puts them that way.

Q: If you could be a vowel, which one would you be and why?

A: A, pronounced as in "Om."  

Q: Finally, what piece of advice would you most like to share with our readers? (This can be on writing, the writing life, or anything else...)

A: If I have readers, then first of all, I want to say "Thank you for reading." If you want to be a writer, or are a writer, and want to know either how to become one or be a better writer, then I would say, write often, read often. If you have a thought that you find interesting, write it down. Don't wait until later. If you want to be a poet or a fiction writer or any other type of artist, read writers (or look at art works or read about artists) who move you, who say things in ways that make you pay attention, who you feel a kinship with. Try not to concern yourself with publication or with making a name for yourself or being recognized. The quality of your work is what matters, what enriches other people's lives. And if it is good, it will be recognized. It may help to go out into the world now and again and mingle with those of like-minds to share ideas and inspiration, of course. It's difficult to sustain the gift you possess if it is held back, if it is utterly personal. Yet, paradoxically, the deeper and more individually expressed or rendered--or maybe I mean, the closer and more intimate and specific--the more resonant and universal. Or that's often the case. And don't let anyone else ever tell you that you have no ability. Neither you nor anyone else can know in advance how far you can develop your skill and your individual artistic gift.

Lavina Blossom grew up on a farm in Michigan. She received her MFA in Poetry from the University of California, Irvine. Her poems have appeared in a number of publications, including Kansas Quarterly and The Paris Review. Her poetry is forthcoming in Driftwood Review. She recently finished her first novel.