Sunday, August 29, 2021

Six Questions interview #87 : Debra Martens

Debra Martens [photo credit: Scott Proudfoot] has been living the international version of Stompin’s Tom’s “I’ve been everywhere, man.” With her partner and child, she has lived in Nairobi, New Delhi, Vienna, London, and most recently, East Jerusalem (the part that’s in the news). In between packing, she writes fiction, book reviews, some freelance stuff, and runs the website Canadian Writers Abroad. Her stories have appeared in Grain, Room, and The New Quarterly, as well as anthologies and defunct journals.

Q: How long have you been in Ottawa, and what first brought you here?

I’ve lived in Ottawa off and on for over thirty years. I’m currently living in Ottawa after five years in the UK and three years in Palestine. My husband and I first moved here because he got a job with (at the time) the Department of External Affairs. 

Q: How did you first get involved in writing, and subsequently, the writing community here?

I’ve been writing since I was a teen, but publishing sporadically. After we returned from India, I was longing to work with other writers, so I contacted someone I knew from when I taught at the University of Ottawa, and she invited me to join a writing group that has since dissolved.  


Q: How did being in such a community of writers shift your thinking about writing, if at all?

Since returning to Ottawa in 2019, I joined another writers’ group, which has been fantastic for several reasons: having published authors say positive things about my work has been the morale boost I needed, discussing progress in the business of writing has been motivational, and they’ve brought me up to date on things I wasn’t aware of during my absences. Most importantly, I enjoy reading and discussing their work. 


Q: What do you see happening here that you don’t see anywhere else? What does Ottawa provide, or allow?  

I’ve had a bit of culture shock coming back to Ottawa. British humour is wickedly funny but can be offensive, and the political situation in some countries that we’ve lived in forces people to speak harsh truths, whereas here, I find that the anxiety about not offending any one group makes for a carefulness about what is said. It’s great that Canada is a mixed society and a super tolerant country, but ... well ... I wonder if we’re too judgmental.


Also, public spaces are cleaner here than in some of the countries we’ve lived in – no littering, for example. We have conveniently placed garbage cans because we are not expecting bombs to go off in them.


Q: Have any of your projects responded directly to your engagements here? How have the city and its community, if at all, changed the way you approached your work?  

Ottawa is a safe place to live, and I feel more relaxed here, more open to new work. As well, I recently tried out a new technique on a story with an actor/director friend, which went well.


Q: What are you working on now?

I’m finishing up a collection of linked short stories, and thinking about my next project. 

 

Sunday, August 22, 2021

Six Questions interview #86 : Justin Million

Justin Million is a print and digital media poet, performance artist, founder of the Show and Tell Poetry Series, and co-founder and poetry editor at bird, buried press. Million was named the inaugural City of Peterborough Downtown Artist-in-Residence in 2020, and has been an artist-in-residence at Evans Contemporary, and the Precarious Festival. Million has been published in countless literary journals such as Bywords, In/Words Magazine and Press, Poetry Is Dead, and word and colour, and has published 18 chapbooks with various Canadian small press imprints. His first trade book EJECTA: The Uncollected KEYBOARDS! Poems was published by Ottawa’s Apt. 9 Press earlier this year. Million lives and writes in his hometown of Peterborough, Ontario.

Q: How long were you in Ottawa, and what first brought you here? What took you away?
I was in Ottawa for about a decade, from 2002 to 2012. I came to Ottawa for school, at Carleton University. My undergrad took way too long because I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do with myself, back when I thought there was an answer for that question. I was taken away by a disastrous move to Vancouver, where my life fell apart, which brought me back to Ottawa where I couldn't find any work, which brought me back home, here, the place where I grew up, where I am typing this now, in Peterborough, Ontario.

Q: How did you first get involved in writing, and subsequently, the writing community here?
The first poem I ever wrote was a not-so-subtle reworking of the lyrics to Bette Midler's 'Wind Beneath My Wings'. I wrote it for the person I was pursuing in Grade 6. It didn't work. I had flowers and everything, even wrapped the poem in a little ribbon, you know, for flare. She was into my friend... you know what, I can't remember which friend she was into. It doesn't really matter. I'm glad she was into somebody else, or else I may have never written a second poem. 

I got involved in the writing community in Ottawa through my involvement with In/Words Magazine and Press, which was then just called In/Words, and was the only real literary product coming out of Carleton at that time. If you are reading this as someone who is familiar with the Ottawa poetry scene, you have likely heard of In/Words, and have more than likely since heard of some of the talented young folks that cut their writing teeth at In/Words as editors and contributors, during the 2000's: Cameron Anstee, Ben Ladouceur, Leah Mol, Jeff Blackman, etc. The group I ended up joining to form the In/Words editorial team in 2003, or 2004 (I think? Cameron remembers all this stuff better than I do...), took the magazine from (I think) 200 copies quarterly to 2000, got an office, a computer, a printer, (almost) proper funding, and 15-20 chapbooks per year by local authors. We were pushing each other and getting better by leaps and bounds as a group, in part because of the healthy competition we participated in, but also because we controlled production, so we could print whatever we wanted whenever we wanted. And we did. We were young and pissed off (or at least I was), so we kind of descended upon the rest of the Ottawa writing community more than we got "involved". It's amazing how much ground one can cover, in terms of making purposeful strides to become a working writer, when one has the keys to the printing room at a university. I was publishing maybe four or five or six poetry books a year, getting appropriately good or bad feedback constantly from friends and readers, and trying to learn from those 'mistakes', which really just meant I was never satisfied, few of us were, so the work got better, for all of us. I still like what most people I met from that time are writing, because it's good, not because of loyalty to a time. It was an almost ideal training, ideal but for the horrible debt I was incurring to learn whether or not I had strong feelings toward semicolons or not (I did, but don't so much anymore... unless I'm writing ghazals).   

Q: How did being in such a community of writers shift your thinking about writing, if at all? Have there been subsequent shifts due to where you have lived since?
I learned so much about poetry in Ottawa, as it was my main purpose for being during my time there. I put in a lot of work, and I think that was the lesson that shifted my thinking. If Toronto is the kind of city where you have to network to get your poetry trade book published, which I think it is, then Ottawa is the kind of city where you have to work your ass off to get a chapbook published. There aren't many publishers in the capital putting spines on their books, or at least there wasn't when I was there; Ottawa was a chapbook and reading series city. A tight-knit community too, as the publishing scene was connected through folks attending the same readings; it wasn't out of the ordinary to pick up a chapbook by someone I knew and to know almost all the poems inside, having heard them worked through in the regular open-mikes or as featured readers with longer sets. Again, it may be different now, but Ottawa worked really hard in poetry, establishing a working group of reading series that would form the beginnings of what is now VERSe Ottawa, who oversee Ottawa's annual international poetry festival (I was hosting the In/Words Reading Series at The Clocktower Pub on Bank Street at the time), and working with the city to establish a bilingual Poet Laureate program, and the city's poets did these things within the last 10 years. There are a lot of poets in particular in Ottawa who have been there and been active for their entire lives, or at least for the most part, and I think that helps when a city's artistic groups are lobbying for support or to push a good literary initiative through. In Peterborough we are on the cusp of announcing our Poet Laureate pilot program, and that has only been a possibility due to the contributions of spoken word, slam, and page poets alike, as well as the support of the arts scene at-large, and that scene is happy to support its local writers because we're a hardworking city, a little down and out, and being adversely affected by our proximity to Toronto, and the local scene knows that the more arts positions we erect with City money the more traction we will have with negotiations over funding with the City in the future. So, I guess Ottawa also opened me up to the realities of bureaucracy in the arts, which is help I didn't really need at the time, being young and ridiculous, but that I need now in municipal, Ontario Arts Council, and Canada Council grant funding applications, for instance, or operational funding requests for the reading series I run here. Yeah, maybe not the most inspiring or romantic "shift" in thinking to detail in an interview, but if you, reader, are still quite young, and insist on writing poems when the student loans run out, then I suggest you work on your work first but work on your ability to procure funding second. It is near impossible to be a "working poet", and those who are don't just write, they publish, edit, teach, consult, and perform just to make it work. I think it's important for young poets to know that. Of course, what I am getting at in my answer here all hinges on how much time and space one actually wants to dedicate to one's poetry. I find that many poets devote what secondary time they can to their work, which is fine, of course, I have a day job too, I'm not judging, it just makes me wonder what the poets could do, what further details we could accord the world, if we were paid properly for our hard work, and could live a modest living observing so the rest of the world doesn't have to, as it seems that is one of many human traits that is currently extincting.    

Q: What did you see happening here that you don’t see anywhere else? What did Ottawa provide, or allow?

What you only see happening in Ottawa is, as I touched on briefly elsewhere, its rabid and rather vast smallpress community, and the outside community it hosts at events such as the semi-annual small press book fair hosted by rob mclennan. The community is vast, a container with space for zines, chapbooks, ephemera, and everything in between, ranging wildly in quality of content and production quality, as any good scene should. It makes for a rich and immersive scene that can quickly become an insider experience, just because there's so much to offer that one doesn't need to look up to see what's in the bowl of poetry readers from Toronto or Montreal, for instance. Again, Ottawa benefits from having a less transient arts base than Toronto, the big city, where people from small cities tend to flock to test their young meddle, or to go to school and stick around just long enough to run out of money and have to move back to Whitby or wherever. There are plenty of folks who have been active in literary production for thirty or forty years (or more!) in Ottawa, who continue to be active, and who influence the regenerating crop of students from Ottawa University and Carleton as they attempt to form what will inevitably be short lived small press ventures, or who carry the torch for a year or more at the university's established literary institutions, should those projects not be canceled due to the commitment or lack thereof of the crop of facilitators who came before. When we were coming up, Ottawa provided me and my fellow writers a place to publish that at least seemed to be listening, and because the scene is smaller than Toronto's, it was easier to get published, but unlike Toronto, as I said earlier, the work one is publishing in Ottawa is destined for chapbooks and literary journals or live performances, whereas in Toronto, recognition from one's involvement in the writing community can lead to a trade book with a major Canadian publisher. I'm talking about how it works for younger, less established writers... there are of course some amazing poets who have regular trade books, one of my favorites being David O'Meara, who's one of the best in the country. It's not about one scene being better than the other, it's just the reality of each city's publishing presence. Folks in Ottawa, then, can publish their work faster, and get more work out, if it's all a matter of printing pages and stapling or stitching the work together. But this is all how it was when I was there. Maybe things have changed, and the last year or two has certainly changed everything... Maybe I get irresponsibly sour about Toronto too easily. I love a lot of writers in Toronto, actually love them. Pete Gibbon, Bardia Sinaee... It's just that if you've ever filled out an OAC Recommender Grant application, and checked that "Regional" box, knowing half or more of the funding attributed to the entire province will go to the Big Smoke, that understanding stokes some healthy cynicism of how higher-order systems in publishing work. Fuck all of that, though. Just write. Right? Yes. Write, but show other people your work, and don't worry so much about publishing, and you'll be better off, regardless of where you live.

I do better with interviews in person.         

Q: Have any of your projects responded directly to your engagements here? How had the city and its community, if at all, changed the way you approached your work?
When I started my reading series here in Peterborough, my Show and Tell Poetry Series, I was trying to establish a reading series that would allow a live audience more inroads into who the featured poet is by setting up what I called 'interactive stations' in the hosting venue. I had five stations, including:
-Writing desk: The featured reader would recreate (to the best of their ability) their writing desk (or environment) that they write in at home. Given that I was going for something hyper-local here, I thought it would be easy to basically move the featured poet's workspace into the venue, so that especially young writers could see what kind of environment an established poet writes inside of, I just underestimated how many poets I could pull into the series when I started, as it had been a half-decade since Peterborough had a regularly occurring reading series in 'Cooked and Eaten', Esther Vincent's longrunning and storied series. This station was the least successful, though it prompted a lot of creativity in terms of how the featured readers who could participate presented their work to the attending audience.

-Notes and rough drafts: I would challenge the featured reader to bring in notebooks or rough drafts of poems that the poet would read in their finished versions, so that the audience might see how a poem can grow and change or how a poem can die on the page, never to be revisited. The latter outcome for a poem, I think, is pedagogical, especially for young poets, in showing how some poems do not 'succeed', or are written in order to fertilize future ideas; I guess "kill your darlings" is the term for this which most writers would know. The poems you write to get to the poems you really like are just as important as those likeable poems, I think. I also think that my visiting writers enjoyed curating this 'station', as it required revisiting and showcasing old notebooks, thereby proving to their audience the amount of work it takes to write a good poem or two. That was my intention for this exercise, for the feature and the audience. Many traditional reading series present a poet who is polished, and who disseminates their poems as such, to the point where I remember being a young poet at readings and feeling like I could never accomplish such 'success' in poetry. I think that demystifying the professional development process for poets is important to fostering confident and able young poets, which is why I would also invite young poets, mostly from Trent University, to open for a more established poet at Show and Tell readings.

-Visual element: I would ask the featured reader to bring in one image that has or is currently inspiring their work. Usually, locals would bring in visual art done by another local artist. That's just how Peterborough works. We rabidly support each other, and are inspired by each other. We're a small arts community, so we aim to prop each other up so we can create more opportunities for more artists. That's how small communities have to do it, and we punch way above our weight class here because of that mutual support.

-Food and drink: I would ask the featured reader if they tend to eat or drink certain things when they're writing. This was really just an excuse to bring alcohol to the event.

-Short interview after reading: This is fairly standard practice, to allow the audience a chance to interrogate the reader(s) based on what the reader(s) had read, and what questions their poems prompted from audience members. However, because the audience had access to these other interactive stations, the questions were not limited to the material they had heard, as the audience could ask them about the evolution of a poem after seeing the nitty-gritty of it laid out in the reader's notebook, or about the visual stimuli the reader brought with them, or about their writing desk/environment.
I would change the series significantly over time to reflect the needs and interests of my 'regional' audience. It proved to be too much of an imposition on the artist and the venue to house my 'stations', so Show and Tell inevitably fell back into the traditional reading series model, hosting two or three poets a night who simply read their work and who might engage in informal conversation afterwards. I still believe that such an ambitious reading series model would work well in well-funded centres, especially in the universities. When I was coming up I could have used a lot of demystification, in terms of how poetry is wrought, funded, and disseminated. There was a lot of talk in university of 'muses' or 'lightning striking' in regards to how a poet would begin putting pen to paper, but any writer worth their salt knows that's bullshit. Also, I cringe when I hear writers talk about their agents, but would I if I had had more exposure to the business side of writing? There's no way of knowing now...
I think that moving to Peterborough, and having the space and freedom to explore what I thought a poetry reading series should be like, for instance, changed my approach to my work because it allowed me more freedom to do my own kind of research into how a poet might disseminate their work, how one might publish that work in a very small community, and how exactly to go about turning on that very small community to supporting and participating in more poetic activity. All of those examples made me a 'better' writer in the process, because I have since gained a more holistic understanding of my community, which, I think, can only lead to a more holistic understanding of one's place in that community, which just plainly prompts 'better' work. Feeling supported and understood is important for any artist. I qualified the word 'better' earlier because that is obviously a subjective term, but I feel I can say so confidently. Being here has made me a better writer just like Ottawa made me a better writer, just like whatever the next stage of my life brings will make me a better writer because I openly and excitedly chase that outcome, regardless of where I am. I feel exceptional to be part of the current arts renaissance in Peterborough, and I hope that I can, in my small way, contribute to its indefinite rise.
We currently have a fairly progressive city council, though I shudder to think of what may come with so many elections looming. God forbid the next time I answer these questions I have to outline my inevitable disapproval of local conservative hopeful (and monster) Michelle Ferreri.    

Q: What are you working on now?
By the time this interview goes out STPS will have posted five copies of three poems written by local poets in various locations in the downtown core as part of Show and Tell Poster Series. We did a round of five posters by five local poets in April as well, as part of our ongoing National Poetry Month programming. You can follow along with what STPS is doing here: https://showandtellpoetry.wordpress.com/

Because of the unique circumstances of this year, STPS is trying to use its small but much appreciated budget (thank you City of Peterborough, and New Stages Theatre Company) to offer unique programming throughout such an unpredictable and inaccessible year. We also wanted to bring poetry to our community in a more direct way. On top of posting poems around town, STPS has purchased and disseminated six typewriters to local poets as part of the "Show and Tell Typewriter Initiative", and has produced our first "Show and Tell Poetry Zine", which is available for purchase at Watson & Lou, in Peterborough, or here.

STPS is still figuring out what to do with our remaining funding for the year, as the landscape is so unpredictable these days, but we will continue to post poems around town as a reminder of the value of poetry and the arts in this time of disunity and crisis.

We will also continue our Show and Tell Typewriter Initiative efforts to pair local writers with neglected or otherwise available typewriters, as I firmly believe a writer writes differently (in myriad ways) on a typewriter than in a notebook or on a computer. My thoughts and my good friend and publisher Cameron Anstee's thoughts about typewriters and a live-writing typewriter poetry project I completed in Peterborough can be found in a book you can find here. You should also seek out Cameron's Apt. 9 Press' impressive, nay, inimitable back catalog.

I just guest edited a zine by my good friend and occasional writing partner Jeff Blackman, from your fair city. By the time you read this the issue I guest-edited should be available here.

Like I said about Cameron, feel free to peruse the issues Jeff has put together since the pandemic started. It's truly a unique publication, ranging in content from a Dungeons & Dragons themed issue, to this current one edited by yours truly that is an eclectic assortment of pieces done by Peterborough folks.

One of the pieces in the aforementioned zine will be about Precarious Festival, a relatively new but extremely important arts festival here in Peterborough that, as its primary goal, seeks to interrogate the precarity in which artists tend to find themselves while also contributing so much to the places in which they are struggling to survive and create. Find out more about that here.

I'm also in the middle of guest-editing a local publication put together by Deryck Robertson and his Paddler Press. The issue likely won't be available by the time this interview goes out, so please visit here for more info.

In terms of my own writing, I am working on a few different things, but all these things are keeping me happy and busy, so I'm not in too much of a rush to get a book out there, but I'll let you all know when that happens.

Finally, starting in late-September a group of local artists and I will be putting together a multidisciplinary show at Sadleir House here in Peterborough to celebrate the immense cultural value and significance of the work of local painter and renaissance man John Climenhage. The show has many facets, including a vast exhibition of John's work, a QR code walkabout through the city, a digital archive of John's work, a livestream event, music, essays, publications, etc. The contributing artists are myself, John Climenhage of course, Annie Jaeger, Bruce Whiteman, and Laura Thompson. Follow along with what we're doing on Instagram (for now) @theclimenhageproject

Or it will all get locked down again in September... get vaccinated, jerks!

Sunday, August 15, 2021

Six Questions interview #85 : Brandon Crilly

A high school teacher by day, Brandon Crilly has more than 30 published short stories to date, by markets like Daily Science Fiction, Abyss & Apex, PULP Literature, and Flame Tree Publishing. He also reviews fiction for BlackGate.com and serves as a Programming Lead for Can*Con in Ottawa. With Evan May, he’s the co-host of the podcast Broadcasts from the Wasteland, described as “eavesdropping on a bunch of writers at the hotel bar.” You can find Brandon at brandoncrilly.wordpress.com or on Twitter: @B_Crilly.

Q: How long have you been in Ottawa, and what first brought you here? 

Work! And on a total fluke, actually. Fresh out of teacher’s college there weren’t many Boards actively hiring occasional teachers. The OCDSB was my only interview that summer, and they must have been desperate ;) I knew Ottawa already so it wasn’t a huge jump, thankfully (I’d considered applying to the Northwest Territories). That was autumn 2012, which means it’s been … nine years? 

Q: How did you first get involved in writing, and subsequently, the writing community here? 

I’ve been writing since I was a kid, spinning stories where me and my friends trained Pokemon or flew X-wings. But in terms of “serious” writing I started with the Creative Writing program at Queen’s, working with the incredible Carolyn Smart and Stuart Ross. Both of them and other folks in Kingston at the time – Michael Casteels, Bruce Kauffman, Christine Miscione, Sarah Tsiang – really introduced me to this idea of community and writing not being a solitary thing. When I went looking for that in Ottawa, I met folks like yourself at the small press book fair, and through that got introduced to the SFF writing community here, via the now-defunct ChiSeries and then Can*Con, which I’m now one of the programming leads for!

Q: How did being in such a community of writers shift your thinking about writing, if at all?

One thing I grappled with early in my career was this idea that there’s an “ideal path,” particularly in SFF: get published by one of eight or so big magazines and never look back, or if you’re writing novels, leverage short fiction success to land an agent, etc. What the community showed me early is how many ways people are finding success and having fun with writing. We have a bunch of local publishers, like Renaissance Press and Fusion Fragment, as well as Bundoran up until recently. People creating gorgeous independent books. I’m lucky to know people writing for gaming companies, getting invited to cons in China, producing podcasts, starting their own community events – all of that cool stuff is happening right here. If I was on my own with only Writer’s Digest articles and “10 Ways to Break In” blog posts, I probably would’ve given up a long time ago.

Q: What do you see happening here that you don’t see anywhere else? What does Ottawa provide, or allow? 

One of the things I find fascinating in Ottawa is that you have these distinct writing spheres with a bunch of community overlap. If I go to the Ottawa International Writer’s Festival, or the small press fair, or Can*Con, or whatever, I bump into some of the same people, taking it all in. And for anyone who’s only been to one of those, inevitably there are people talking up the other events. Or I’ll end up chatting with two people I wouldn’t have expected to know each other, but of course they do, because it’s Ottawa. No community is perfect, but the vast majority of people I’ve met here are overwhelmingly supportive. I think part of that comes from the fact that there are more and more creators here making a serious mark on the industry; it was happening before I got here and just keeps getting bigger, which feeds that excitement as people cheer each other on.

Q: Have any of your projects responded directly to your engagements here? How have the city and its community, if at all, changed the way you approached your work? 

One of my best friends (another writer) told me once that a lot of my stories focused on looking for family, which made sense at the time given what was going on in my life (this would’ve been 2017 or something). I was looking at my more recent work, and I think it’s become less about finding family and more about holding onto it. That’s a direct result of being here, surrounded by people I love and admire. In terms of more tangible stuff, one of my novels out on sub right now was heavily influenced by Ottawa’s layout and the feeling of a city made up by all of these pocket communities. Someday I’ll be curious if readers from here pick up on that.

Q: What are you working on now? 

People keep joking that I’m doing “all the things,” which is … maybe true. I’ve got two fantasy novels out on submission, both of which have solarpunk/hopepunk flare, and I’m spending the summer on a new science fiction one. I’ve been writing and submitting a lot more short fiction; my story “Soulmark” is in Fusion Fragment #7 and I’ll be in Underland Arcana and The World’s Revolution later this year. And on the side, I’m developing a TTRPG-related thing for streaming, which will feature a bunch of Ottawa authors. That’ll get announced on my social media sometime soon :)

 

Sunday, August 08, 2021

Six Questions interview #84 : Adam Meisner

Adam Meisner writes poetry, plays, and fiction, and has been published in literary journals and anthologies throughout North America, including Ninth Letter, Copper Nickel, and Poetry is Dead. In 2018, Talk is Free Theatre premiered Adam’s play, For Both Resting and Breeding—about a genderless future society in the year 2150—and the company toured the play to Australia in early 2020. After studying theatre at the University of Toronto and the University of Manchester, in 2020 Adam received an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of British Columbia. 

Q: How long have you been in Ottawa, and what first brought you here? 

My family moved to Ottawa from New Brunswick when I was young, and I mostly grew up here. I moved away for university in my late teens—to Toronto first, and later Manchester, England—but I came back to Ottawa for work and to be closer to family.

Q: How did you first get involved in writing, and subsequently, the writing community here? 

I loved writing as a child, and my parents sent me to creative writing workshops for children that were hosted through the former Gloucester Public Library system and at an annual conference for budding writers and illustrators held at St. Paul University. As a teenager, I attended Canterbury High School’s Literary Arts Program, which introduced me to a wider literary community in Ottawa.

          As an adult, I’ve connected to a writing community through various networks—including the Optional Residency MFA at the University of British Columbia from which I recently graduated (there are many students and alumni of the program in Ottawa). I’ve also met people who write while attending various readings and literary events around the city.

          Several years ago, I launched a playwrights’ circle through the Ottawa Little Theatre to foster a community of budding playwrights here—though the group hasn't been active in the last year or so.

Q: How did being in such a community of writers shift your thinking about writing, if at all?  

I’ve found it encouraging to see—up close and around me—a breadth of approaches to a writing life. The lines are far blurrier between, say, a pastime, a passion, and a profession, than I used to think. When I was younger, I thought people were either professional writers or amateurs, an idea based on received ideas that leave little room for other, more inventive, possibilities. Instead, the community around me has modelled something far more nuanced, a more sustainable—and inspired—approach to writing that puts less pressure on financial return and places the focus to pursuing one’s own writing obsessions and curiosities.

Q: What do you see happening here that you don’t see anywhere else? What does Ottawa provide, or allow? 

To my mind, Ottawa has an exceptionally engaged poetry community—both readers and writers. I often meet people in my day-to-day who love poetry, and who know the local poets as well as poetry practice in the wider world. I’m not sure this degree of engagement exists in other cities of a similar size.

          In terms of writing, Ottawa offers me occasions for both solitude and connection. Someplace rural might offer more of the former and a bigger city more of the latter; Ottawa offers something at the crossroads of both. To write, I need both of these modes. I like going for long, quiet walks—along the canal, the Ottawa River, through the arboretum, or in nearby Gatineau Park—to think through my writing projects. I also need a bit of hustle and bustle around me—and while Ottawa doesn’t offer a lot of that, there’s just enough to energize and inspire me. 

          Ottawa’s also a relatively bilingual city, and I’ve benefited from the sometimes-overlapping French and English literary cultures (though I wish there was more of this—including more work to advance Ottawa’s rich potential as a centre for literary translation).

Q: Have any of your projects responded directly to your engagements here? How have the city and its community, if at all, changed the way you approached your work? 

I’ve been able to test out writing projects before sending them out into the wider world at reading events in Ottawa. Also, in the last few years, on reading the work of peers set in Ottawa, I’ve started to set more of my writing here. Previously, I had the odd, though not uncommon, tendency to set things in places that felt more widely known—Toronto or New York. This is silly because, of course, there have been many great books set in Ottawa; take Carol Shields’ The Stone Diaries, for example—how did I only discover this book last year?

Q: What are you working on now? 

I continue to refine my first novel—which I wrote as my MFA thesis, and which centres on the historical purge of LGBTQ employees in government during the Cold War. I’m also starting to outline a second novel and my next play; though I’m hesitant to mention more about these projects—talking too much about a piece before it’s written makes it feel as if it’s already out in the world. And I continue to write poems, increasingly with an eye to compiling them into a cohesive manuscript. 

 

Sunday, August 01, 2021

Six Questions interview #83 : Armand Garnet Ruffo

Armand Garnet Ruffo’s Ojibwe relations were signatories to the Robinson-Huron Treaty of 1850. His great-great-grandfather lobbied for inclusion of those left out of treaty in 1905 when the Government of Canada’s economic policies were causing starvation amongst his people. Ruffo’s publications include Introduction to Indigenous Literary Criticism in Canada (Broadview, 2015), The Thunderbird Poems (Harbour, 2015) and Norval Morrisseau: Man Changing Into Thunderbird (Douglas & McIntyre, 2014), a finalist for the Governor General’s Literary Award for Non-fiction. He is currently the Queen’s National Scholar in Indigenous Literature at Queen’s University in Kingston.

Q: How long were you in Ottawa, and what first brought you here? What took you away?

In all total, I lived in Ottawa for about 30 years, though not consecutively.  Does anyone actually plan where they are going to end up?  I initially moved to Ottawa in the late 1970s to work for an Indigenous magazine, which was supposed to last the summer.  When that stint was over I began working for an Indigenous political organization, which was quite exciting in those days.  I might add that while working there I was also attending the University of Ottawa.  From there I joined External Affairs (now called The Department of Foreign Affairs, Trade and Development) where I worked for seven years.  it was a poor boy’s way to see the world, a great job for someone in their 20s.  I eventually had enough though — I was finding it nearly impossible to write — and left Ottawa to further my studies and subsequently returned in the early 90s to teach in the English Department at Carleton. I finally moved to Kingston about seven years ago to teach at Queen’s.  It was time for a change.

Q: How did you first get involved in writing, and subsequently, the writing community here?

I actually wanted to study film making but coming from the north I didn’t have access to a film camera — there was no cheap video equipment in those days — and so I took photographs. That wasn’t enough to get into a film program, and I decided to study biology, which made sense, seeing I had spent my youth in the bush.  For various reason that didn’t work out, and I drifted into a creative writing course.  I was immediately hooked.  I might add that I was always a reader.

Q: How did being in such a community of writers shift your thinking about writing, if at all? Have there been subsequent shifts due to where you have lived since?

To put it in a nutshell, moving to Ottawa exposed me to a wide variety of writers, both local and those from afar.  When I started attending U of Ottawa in the early 1980s, there was quite an active literary scene in Ottawa. There was the Tree Series, of course, which began I believe in 1980, and there were others as well. I remember going to various pubs, restaurants, the universities, and even peoples’ homes to hear readings.  Both Christopher Levenson at Carleton and Seymour Mayne at Ottawa U, for example,  organized regular readings in those days.  Ottawa U also had a very active Writer-In-Residence program.  I heard all kinds of people there, Michael Ondaatje, Patrick Lane, Irving Layton, etc.  I think when one is young and starting out exposure is so important.  One of the most surprising things that happened was when the playwright George Ryga came to see me while I was working for one of the Indigenous political organizations.  He was a visiting writer at Ottawa U at the time, and I had sent him some of my poems.  There he was knocking on my door.   He was very encouraging.  So if anything, all those experiences made me realize that writing was something that I could pursue seriously.

Q: What did you see happening here that you don’t see anywhere else? What did Ottawa provide, or allow?

I guess I have to flip this question around, because it is what was lacking that made me take notice. What was missing were Indigenous writers.  None of the readings that I attended in the early days ever had an Indigenous reader.  We were really not part of the literary scene in those days. It wasn’t until the early 90s that things slowly began to open up.  (Tomson Highway’s success had a lot to do with it.) That’s when I met a few other Indigenous writers, and we formed a loosely knit group called W.I.N.O and published a small collection called Voices From Home.  A few years later, a coffee house called The Stone Angel, which was located downtown, began to host Indigenous writers. I read there with local songwriting legend Willy Dunn.  All in all, Ottawa was a good place to hear and meet other writers.

Q: Have any of your projects responded directly to your engagements here? How had the city and its community, if at all, changed the way you approached your work?

Because even after all these years my sensibilities are still very much grounded in the landscape of northern Ontario, I still tend to draw on that landscape for inspiration. Still, I published my first book Opening In the Sky while living in Ottawa and launched it at The Stone Angel. Undoubtedly, the city has had some kind of an influence on me. I think if you dig through my last collection Treaty#, you’ll find echoes of Ottawa. In fact, I’m sure of it. 

Q: What are you working on now?

I’ve got two discrete books of poetry, as well as a book of prose, in the works.  What I will say is that I’ve been thinking a lot more about form these days.  So while the writing still works at some level with narrative, I’m thinking more about the page itself. That probably has to do with the writers I’m reading.